Here's to a happy new year for all you Literotica fans. May God richly bless you, each and every one...
MoogPlayer
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Chapter One
My name is Mark Howard and I'm forty-nine years old. I stand six feet, three inches tall; and I weigh two hundred and fifty-five pounds, with no fat whatsoever. I have dark brown hair and eyes; and it was right around my twenty-sixth birthday when what you're about to read happened.
I was a Navy Corpsman for eight years, and once I was honorably discharged, I challenged the Board of Health in my home state and got my license to work as a Surgical Registered Nurse. I got a job in the biggest hospital in my home city and worked four days on and four days off. My coworkers were all very nice people who treated me great, but the best part of the job was the money I made. Hell, my starting salary was just a little over seventy thousand dollars a year.
You see, I'd joined the Navy right out of high school, at seventeen, and was twenty-five when I got out so; I was still fairly young when the hospital hired me. I went to work for Dr. Alvin Schwartz, one of the leading pediatricians in the country at the time. He was so impressed with my work that he made sure I was always there when he was, except for my days off. Like I said before, I'd always gotten along with the O.R. staff and they'd always gotten along with me. And it wasn't too long before I came to be respected as someone who could always be counted on to do their job, and do it correctly the first time, as there's little to no room for mistakes in the Operating Room.
After serving for four years as a Corpsman in Balboa Naval Hospital in San Diego, California, I was assigned to the Marine Corps detachment that was guarding the U.S. Embassy in Beirut, Lebanon from nineteen eighty-one to nineteen eighty-five; and yes, I saw some action, too much if the truth was really known. So, because of not only what I'd been through in the Navy, but because of what I'd learned from those experiences; I realized, at a tender young age, how fragile life truly is, hence the reason I wanted to be somewhere that I could do some good. It was then I decided that I wanted to work in a civilian hospital O.R. once I was discharged from the military.
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I'd been working at the hospital for almost four months when I got a call from the Chief of Surgery, Dr. Michael Gaines.
"Hello," I said, into the phone.
"This is Doctor Mike Gaines, Chief of Surgery," he authoritatively replied, "Am I speaking with Mark Howard?"
"Yes, sir," I said, "That's me."
"Great," he smiled, "I've heard some rally good things about you lately, and I was wondering if you had time to meet with me?"
"Sure," I replied, "When?"
"Right now," he said, "If you're not too busy, that is."
"Let me see," I told him, as I reached for the case schedule on the office wall, "We don't have anything coming our way for the rest of the day, it looks like so; I can be in your office as soon as I'm changed out of these scrubs."
"Don't worry about that," he chuckled, "Just come as you are."
"Yes, sir," I replied, "I'll be there right away."
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As I walked into Dr. Gaines' office, I was greeted by a very pretty girl with long dark brown hair the same color as mine and the biggest, most beautiful blue eyes that I'd ever seen. Her face was that of a classic all American girl-next-door.
"May I help you?" she asked.
"Uh, yes," I almost stuttered, "My name is Mark Howard and I think Doctor Gaines is expecting me."
"He sure is," she warmly smiled, "Please follow me."
She was wearing a billowing white silk shirt with black dress slacks, and I couldn't help but admire the way that they clung to her gorgeous ass when she walked.
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"Come on in and sit down, Mark," Dr. Gaines smiled, "It's nice to finally meet you."
"Excuse me, Doctor Gaines," I replied, somewhat confused, "But I don't think I understand what you mean."
"I'll get right to the point, Mark," he chuckled, "Doctor Schwartz has been going on and on about how good you are, ever since you came to work here. He also thinks that you've got what it takes to eventually become a very fine and gifted surgeon."
"I don't know about all that," I politely replied, "After all, I'm only a Surgical R.N."
"Yeah, but you've also been on the other side, too," he knowingly smiled, "I hope you won't be mad when I tell you this, but I talked to both of your Commanding Officers, and they each told me that you were always the first to respond in an emergency. I believe you got recommended for the Silver Star by your First Sergeant, am I correct?"
"What's that got to do with my work here?" I politely, but defensively asked, "Is there some kind of problem?"
"Relax, Mark," he smiled, "You're among friends, brother."
"Now I'm really confused," I said, "What's going on here?"
He simply smiled, and then pointing behind me, said, "Turn around and look at the wall behind you."
I turned around to see a shadow box hanging on the wall less than five feet from me. And upon closer examination, I saw three things that stood out, head and shoulders above the rest. One of them was a U.S. Navy SEAL Trident insignia; another was a Caduceus, or medical insignia, and the last one was the Master Chief Corpsman Anchor with two stars, one on the end of each fluke.
The ribbons that accompanied the insignia represented the following medals: The Navy Cross, and there were two of them, The Silver Star, The Distinguished Service Cross with Oak Leaf Clusters, The Purple Heart with Clusters, meaning he'd been wounded more than once, the National Defense Medal, The Republic of Vietnam Campaign Medal, The Vietnam Service Medal with two stars, meaning he did three tours over there, and then two more rows of what I knew were commendation ribbons.
"Wow," I said, turning back around to face him, "So, you were a corpsman, too."
"That's right," he smiled, "And us "Docs" have to stick together so; I want to make you a proposition."
"And what would that proposition be?"
It's like this," he began, "The G.I. Bill will pay your tuition, and with of your experience in the Navy, as well as a recommendation from me; you could go to medical school and only have to do two years at the very most, maybe even less."
"Really?" I asked, "I didn't know you could do that."
"Sure you can," he chuckled, "How the hell do you think I became a surgeon?"
"Wow, that sounds great," I excitedly grinned, "Thanks, Doctor Gaines."
"One more thing," he laughed, "My name is Mike so; feel free to call me that, okay Mark?"
"Okay, Mike," I said, "I only have one question. Why are you doing this? You don't know me."
"Yes, I do," he pointedly replied, "Anyone who has served under combat conditions can recognize their own kind. Search your heart, kid."
After a moment's consideration, I realized he was right; and in doing so, I nodded my head and simply said, "Thanks...brother."
"You're welcome, kid," he widely grinned, "Now get the hell outta here. I've got a ton of work to do."
