DOG TAGS

The black edges are rubber so that they don't jingle together during tactical operations.

Also, dog tags are very handy if you're having sexytime with another Marine and he needs choking.

 

THE STORY OF KENNY

Soooooo, earlier on Facebook I mentioned the Marine below -- pictured in a bar in the town of Kin on Okinawa.  His name was Kenny and he was, at the time I snapped the pic, 18 I believe.

He was an anti-tank gunner assigned to my platoon and had just arrived in the Fleet Marine Force from the School of Infantry and been assigned to us just as we got our orders to deploy overseas.  

Camp Schwab on Okinawa was our base of operations but we got sent to Korea twice early on and to Camp Fuji on the mainland once.

It was at Fuji that my unit did its first major tactical training operations and on the very first one -- a night forced march with full pack and weapons all the way around Mount Fuji (about 70 miles in total).

Back then, in the Old Corps, we were issued with these things called shelter halves.  Basically one half of a shitty canvas two man pup tent that you snapped together so that two Marines could sleep out of the weather.  One of the rites of being in the infantry back then was pairing up and choosing your "hooch-mate" for the night.  The guy you were going to sleep with.

Because he was new to the platoon nobody wanted to hooch with Kenny.  And because I was the senior NCO in the unit, nobody really wanted to hooch with me.  So Kenny and I became hooch-mates for the hump.  

The poor kid.

As soon as the platoon (about 30 Marines) got wind of my sleeping arrangement they turned on Kenny like a bunch of barracuda.  Skie, the first squad first fireteam leader, was the very first to chime in:

"Hey, Kenny....did anyone ever tell you the platoon rule? Everyone who hooches with Smitty for the first time has to put out."  Which, of course, the rest of the platoon immediately confirmed by going into great detail about how all of them at one time or another had been forced to put out after hooching with me for the first time.

This was absolutely hysterical since Kenny, being 17 and a boot and as stupid as every boot is, believed every word.  I mean, why else would a bunch of Marines admit to being ritually sodomized and giving forced blowjobs simply because they were sharing a tent with me for the first time unless they were fucking with you?

So, for the next 13 or 14 hours as we marched the 65 or 70 miles around Mount Fuji in the pitch black dark of a moonless night, the Marines in the platoon were merciless with Kenny -- going on about greasing up his ass, and getting his pretty lips limbered up for some serious dick sucking etc., etc.

Fast forward.....we got to the end of our forced march as dawn was breaking and even though totally exhausted, my Marines still had not let up and were teasing Kenny relentlessly as he and I put up our tent.  As we crawled into the tent to try to get 2 or 3 hours of sleep before reveille I said to Kenny, because I couldn't resist, "Well, how about it?"

"What?" he asked with panic creeping into his voice.

"You know the platoon rule.  First time you hooch with me you have to put out."

"Bbbbbb...but I thought you guys were kidding."

"No fucking way.  Look, you can either put out or get out and sleep outside in the rain."  Since we had a nice mountain rainstorm brewing right at that moment.

I went on in a threatening tone, "Look, asshole...I'm gonna count to ten, and if by ten you haven't pulled my dick out and started sucking or shown me your ass, you can get the fuck out."

"ONE, TWO, three, four....fi......."

Aaaaaaaand I fell asleep!

To this day, 42 years later, I have no idea how much time went by after I fell asleep, but the next thing I knew I was being rudely shaken awake.

"What the fuck?!?!?" I barked.

"OK" said Kenny.  "I'll put out."

Now let me just say this about that -- I've been shot at before.  There are few things that get your attention and wake you up faster and more effectively than someone shooting a gun at you.  One of those few things was when Kenny said "OK, I'll put out."  After shaking my ass out of a deep sleep.

Anyways....from that night/morning on Kenny became the duty fuck, and pretty much my property.  If I told him he "had the duty" that night it meant that he needed to stand by for some sexy time.

One time, on a four day liberty in Tokyo, he ran out of money and was unable to buy a train ticket back to Gotemba, near base. He was in danger of going UA (Unauthorized Absence) and like the little hoor that he was he came sideling up to me in the bar we were all drinking at and, nuzzling my neck and putting his tongue in my ear (in front of about twenty Marines!) he said, "If you buy me drinks tonight and pay for my train ticket back to base I'll put out for you as much as you want."

I jumped up and yelled at him, "Motherfucker!  I've been fucking you for months now.  You think buying you a beer and a ticket to base is gonna somehow magic me more ass of yours to fuck than I already have?"

For months we had sex in hotels in Korea and Japan, aboard ship, out in the field, even once when he was on guard duty and I was the Sergeant of the Guard (THAT could have definitely gotten us both thrown in the brig.)  He was really good at being a sex toy and took orders great and I could get him to do pretty much anything!

To his great credit, some months later he hooked up with this smoking hot Navy hospital corpsman from another unit and told him all about me and made the introduction.  In retrospect, I'm pretty sure it was him being sneaky and diverting my attention to a new shiney object so that he could stop being the duty fuck.

Maybe he wasn't so dumb after all. 

Full disclosure:  Although the top pic is Kenny, the rest are not.  They are of a boy named Geoff I knew from Seattle back around 2007 and who looked just like Kenny and who was just as attentive a little hoor as Kenny had been 25 years before and who, as you can see, liked to write my name on himself with lube....among other things.

Here's a few more of Geoff for your enjoyment:

HOT "POWDER"?!?!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?

My unit in the marines Beta tested the very first MREs in the field -- and we fucking HATED them!  But one of the things we told the test observers (other than that they tasted like dogshit) was that they desperately needed to have Tabasco sauce included in them.  And it was.

Prior to that we all carried bottles of the stuff in our packs for our C Ration meals and, eventually, when MRE 2.0 were introduced they included tiny, single-use plastic bottles of tabasco in each MRE pack.

Normally I would find it hard to believe that they decided to substitute "hot powder" for real tabasco sauce but....it is the gummint sooooo.......

Anyways, a story related to military meals involved your author and one Corporal Joe Gordon.  Joe was in my unit in Spain and was stuck on what was known as "legal hold" for pulling some unlawful, likely highly depraved shit off base that got him criminally charged by Spanish authorities and under the SoFA (Status of Forces Agreement) prevented him from being able to rotate back to the World until his case was resolved.

Legal holds could last years....or even a decade or more, and Joe had been stuck in Spain on an initial two-year tour for almost five years.  We actually had a sergeant there, Sergeant Noriega, who had been on Spanish Legal Hold since the Tet Offensive -- and this was 1980!

Long story short; our unit had gotten a huge fucking resupply of C Rations from a Marine Amphibious Unit that had passed through on its way to the Eastern Med and they had dropped off a couple hundred cases for us consisting of 12 individual meals per case and Joe and I, being big fans of C Rations, decided we needed to scrounge some for our own uses.

They were under lock and key in the supply shed on the far side of our parking lot and were under guard. But Joe and I knew how things worked and how to get the guard away from the shed and so, late one dark night we lured the guard away, picked the lock to the shed, and over the course of ten minutes we fleeced off with fifty cases of C Rats.  Which we divvied up 25 cases apiece and took to our respective off-base apartments.

My dog Alpha, whom I had just recently rescued as a 10 week old pup, was pretty much raised for the next two years on stolen C Rat meals when we were off base at our apartment -- and when we were on duty on base she ate ham and cheese omelets and freshly baked crullers from the chow hall.

FYI, I took Alpha back to the World with me when I rotated home and she lived with my family in Princeton, New Jersey.  Where she lived to be almost 17 years old.

Alpha at about age 15 at home in Princeton