| Subject: Army Basic Training |
Author:
Stan
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Date Posted: 14:28:05 02/12/16 Fri
I was drafted into the US Army in 1968 during the VietNam War. I had my Army physical in the L.A. area where I lived. I had to fill out a questionnaire. One of the questions asked if I was a homosexual. I knew I was attracted to men by then, although I had never had sex with anyone. I knew I could get out of the draft if I answered "Yes", but I lied and answered "No" because I was afraid of becoming a social outcast.
I was sent to Fort Ord, just north of Monterey, CA for basic training, which was pure hell for me. I had never been "athletically oriented", and I especially hated the early morning jogging runs before breakfast. My drill sergeant was not your stereotypical bad ass drill sergeant, though. He was slim, slightly on the short side, and, surprisingly, he had a quiet way about him. He was not in the least abusive, verbally or otherwise. I even thought he was kind of attractive. I could envision him "dominating" me. On the other hand, the First Sergeant in our company was a black man who seemed like the "Devil Incarnate". He scared the hell out of everyone.
The first 2 paragraphs are completely factual, but what follows is mostly fantasy.
One time, as part of some sort of war games, I was assigned to guard duty. I was led on foot through the woods to a very isolated lookout tower. I was given a walkie-talkie and told to use it to report any enemy soldiers I observed in the area. I was told they would be dressed in black uniforms. Everybody else would be dressed in the standard Army green. I was also given the secret code word for the day verbally. I was told to use it to identify myself if I called in on the walkie-talkie, but, UNDER NO CONDITIONS, should I divulge the code word to the enemy if I were captured.
Then I was left totally alone. There was no one else in sight. I didn't mind being alone. At least, there was no one around ordering me to do something I didn't want to do. I spent my time observing the various kinds of vegetation growing in the area. And I watched the clouds roll by. I must have accidentally dozed off at some point because when I opened my eyes, 2 guys in black uniforms were each holding one of my arms in a restraining position. They handcuffed my hands behind my back and then put a blindfold over my eyes. They led me along a path in the woods. I had no idea where we were. After walking for about 10 minutes, we entered a building.
They removed the blindfold and it looked to me like the building was an isolated one-room cabin. They removed the handcuffs and ordered me to strip naked. Then they took me over to the other side of the room where there was something on the floor resembling a sawhorse except that it was lower in the middle than the usual sawhorse and there was a leather-covered pad on top of it in the middle. They placed me on top of the sawhorse face down. Then they put leather restraints on my wrists and ankles which they attached with heavy cords to metal hooks on the legs of the sawhorse. Then they left the cabin.
I must have been left totally alone in that cabin for at least half an hour. I was getting scared. I didn't know what they were going to do to me. Then 3 persons entered the cabin. One of these was my drill sergeant. The second one was a corporal attached to our company. He had been very friendly to me (and was nice-looking too). The third person was our company C.O. (commanding officer). He always had a scowl on his face and didn't appear friendly at all. All three of them were wearing black uniforms. So I presumed they were playing the part of the enemy in these war games.
The C.O. told the drill sergeant to begin the interrogation. The sergeant asked me to tell them the code word for the day. I told them I refused to do so because I had been ordered not to reveal it to anyone. The sergeant then ordered the corporal to get the wooden paddle that was hanging on the wall and give me one whack with it. The corporal was a good-natured guy, and it was obvious he didn't want to inflict any pain on me. When the paddle struck my butt, it felt like a dull thud. The C.O. then told the corporal that he better put more effort into the punishment or he'd be taking my place on the sawhorse. The sergeant then ordered the corporal to give me swats with the paddle until he was ordered to stop. The second swat hurt like hell! I felt a sharp sting that lasted long after the initial impact of the paddle. It was obvious the corporal did not want to take my place on the sawhorse! Then a third swat landed on my butt. It hurt as much as the second one. Then there was another swat and another one. I started crying. The sergeant told me that if I wanted the pain to stop, all I had to do was tell them the code word. I was doing my best to withstand the pain. After a dozen swats, the sergeant ordered the corporal to stop.
Before I was drafted, I had read in the newspapers about some soldiers being seriously injured as a result of some interrogation/torture resistance training being conducted by the US Army to prepare soldiers for VietNam. There had been quite a scandal, and I thought the Army had agreed to abolish such training as a result. But considering my current situation, I was not so sure now.
The sergeant then said to me "Private. We've been going easy on you so far." I thought to myself "What the hell does he mean easy? That paddle is no picnic!" The sergeant continued "If you don't tell us the code word right now, we're going to have to inflict some serious pain on you." I got really scared when he said that, but I still refused to divulge the code word. The sergeant then told the corporal to get the razor strap that was hanging on the wall. He ordered the corporal "Give him 2 lashes with the razor strap, one on each cheek, and they better be good ones!" I let out a loud yell with each stroke. "Oh my God", I thought, "This hurts worse than the paddle!" The sergeant then asked me if I was ready to give them what they wanted, but I still refused. Then the sergeant ordered the corporal to administer strokes with the razor strap until he was ordered to stop. The corporal dutifully obeyed the sergeant's order. One lash after another began landing on my butt. Each stroke burned like hell. With every lash I yelled. It felt like someone was using a blow torch on my rear end. By the time he had delivered a dozen lashes, I was making a desperate but futile effort to escape from that horrible strap. I frantically tried to pull my hands out of the leather restraints, but they had been secured in them really tight. In an even more futile effort, I desperately tried to twist my body, first to one side and then to the other, as much as I could, so that the strap would land somewhere else, ANYWHERE ELSE, but my buttocks which were in total agony. By the time I had received 30 lashes with the razor strap, I was screaming uncontrollably. I finally yelled out "STOP! I can't take anymore. I'll give you the code word." After I revealed it to them, the C.O. very sternly told me that I had violated my orders by divulging the code word. He ordered the sergeant to give me 10 more lashes as punishment for that violation. The sergeant then ordered the corporal to deliver 10 more lashes with the razor strap, and he added "They better be the hardest ones you've ever given." And I think they were. I screamed at the top of my lungs with every stroke. After the final lash, I cried on and off for several minutes. Then the C.O. left the cabin.
The sergeant ordered the corporal to release me from the restraints. When they took me off the sawhorse, my legs felt so weak I could hardly stand up on my own. My body was shaking all over as a result of the trauma it had just endured. The sergeant told me to put my uniform back on. Then he ordered the corporal to take me back to the lookout tower. I was to spend the night there. When we got back to the lookout tower, it was early evening. The corporal told me to take off my uniform and get into the bed which was in the room. He told me I could stay there through the following day until I had sufficiently recovered from the whipping before returning to our company barracks. As it was rapidly getting dark and there was no light in the tower, I did as he suggested and got under the covers. Out of habit, I had laid down of my back, but my butt was so sore that I immediately turned onto my side. The corporal advised me not to tell anyone about the whipping I had gotten. He said I should consider myself lucky. As painful as that punishment had been, it could have been far worse as soldiers have been shot for sleeping on guard duty!
The corporal apologized for having inflicted so much pain on me, but he had to do it. I told him I completely understood his predicament and didn't hold any grudge against him. He had to follow orders. I thought the corporal was going to leave me alone in the tower, but he said he was concerned about my condition and decided he better stay the night and keep an eye on me. Since there was no other furniture in the room beside the bed, not even a chair, the corporal asked me if I minded if he got in the bed with me. I said it was okay with me. He took off his uniform and got under the covers with me. He turned on his side facing my back side. He snuggled up close to me but was very careful not to cause me any additional trauma by accidentally leaning against my poor sensitive butt. After a while, I felt the soft fleshy part of his fingers touching my butt ever so gently. I flinched the first time I felt his fingers, but the next time, I welcomed them. Then I felt his fingers gently glide across those buttocks he had assaulted with the paddle and razor strap only a few hours earlier. He was trying to comfort me. Although my butt was still quite warm from the whipping and still very tender, the touch of his fingers felt very good to me. It was the first time I had not felt totally alone since I had been in the Army. Later that evening, the corporal would launch a much gentler "assault" on my buttocks. This time, I put up no resistance but surrendered to him without a struggle.
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