I was having the time of my life. Our unit was finally allowed their well-earned block leave. My lover, Sergeant Samantha, came to me with a brilliant idea; we should take our leave together, go to the shore of San Diego, and live it up like there's no tomorrow.
A year in the desert and coming back to Fort Riley, Kansas, things would never be the same for any of us. People are just glad to be home. Get back to their families. Except that's also where a lot of relationships ended. Separated by a year, overseas in a war-zone, with sparse contact. Let's just say a lot of dependents back home did not remain faithful. At least faithful in holding out long enough to reap the military benefits. There is something to be said watching your battle-buddy rip up his place, after he was served with divorce papers.
I didn't feel like that with Sergeant Samantha. If anything, I was head over heels in love. So much so, when we both agreed to San Diego, I went to the PX and purchased a digital camera, that could also record video, knowing I was going to fill up the memory card with all these cherish memories. With the chaos of trying to get leave, the unit command ordering inspections on everything, even last-minute layouts of conex trailers. Seriously, fuck that shit! It would be two weeks before I had a chance to be with Samantha.
Normally the weekends are where we stay together at her place. When Friday came, she had CQ duty. Saturday her friends decided on a Lady's Night. She came home drunk and passed out till Monday. That was sad for me. Other than her, there was nothing else for me at Fort Riley. I didn't have family, and only a few people even in my own unit that I talk to. Most of the time it was 'Cole, do this. Cole, do that' and I reply 'Hooah, sergeant' and start working. Plus, I was a small guy compared to the others. The days dwindled slowly. It was like edging, building up, the tense waiting for the release that was that Saturday morning.
It was a tense two weeks planning, waiting, packing and waiting some more. Soon we would under the warm rays of the sun, cold waves of the ocean, and the hot beds of our rented beach front condo. That was my sole goal. It was all I could think about. My battle buddies planned on going to Mexico where the liquor and women were cheap. Some wanted to go to Europe. When they asked me, I just said, back to see my family.
Just two days left before we were set to leave, our unit seemed to not be content in letting us go. There were vehicle inspections, more PT, and more lectures from our officers, telling us the consequences of drinking while underage, drinking and driving, and drug use, and STDs. We were Government property. They tried to hammer in the point, we were supposed to be careful about what we do. Many of us; 18-19 years old, finally going to be free from the Army's confines, were going to do whatever we wanted for three weeks. The last week spent recouping our losses.
It was the final Thursday. Tomorrow was our last day before Leave started. I was so nervous that I went through all my stuff twice. During lunch, instead of DEFAC food I went to the PX. That's when I happened upon the shapely haunch of Sergeant Samantha, facing towards me looking for her brand of Lays, salt and vinegar.
Approaching quietly with flat feet, heading twisting to ensure we were alone, I came up behind her and lowered my voice to a whisper, "Hello, Sergeant." She jumped and turned towards me with wide, gray eyes. When we connected, she burst out into a smile and hugged me.
"Hi," she said with her sexy, smoky voice, "How's it going?" not wanting to let go. Reluctantly did so because we were in a public place. She was technically my superior, at least here in the Army. At her place, that well-manicured 5'6" 125lb frame of a woman was my passionate lover.
"I'm packed and ready to go," I replied as my eyes graced her figure. She was clothed in a fresh set of BDUs, her strawberry-blonde hair done up neatly in a tight bun behind her head and her skin was losing its sun kissed tone by being inside more.
"Good, good," Samantha nodded, picking up her basket that she dropped when she jumped, said, "Did you get a cell phone yet?"
"No" shaking my head lightly.
"You need to get one. Just in case," she said then took out a pen from her right breast pocket, then a small pad of paper from another pocket. Quickly the sergeant scribbled down something, tore the page off, folded and tucked it into my own breast pocket. "Sorry to be in a rush, but I got some girlfriends waiting for me. When you get a phone, either call me or send a text message after final formation, okay?"
"Sure thing" I replied with a thin smile.
She hugged me tightly once more. "See you soon," whispering into my ear. "Remember, I'll pick you up and we'll go to the airport together."
"Yes, sergeant!" I snapped. As she pulled back, she gave a gentle nudge with her left elbow into my gut. The woman scoffed before picking up her chips and walking down the aisle. As a final farewell she swung her backside left and right like a pendulum. A show just for me. It made my mouth water knowing soon. That backside would be mine, and no one can bother us.
That's when I purchased a phone. It was a good model that could take photos and video. That kind of made the camera I already have seem irrelevant. I was still going to take that along as well.
Final formation, the garrison salutes the Colors with Taps playing across the base, then the Colonel came out and gave us a quick lesson on 'Wrap it before tapping it.' That was his usual thing. We get released and people flocked out of the Battalion area. Thankfully my journey was to the barracks not even twenty yards away.
Climbed up the stairs to my floor, slid in the key, and entered my personal room. Thankfully our new barracks were individual rooms for one soldier. We did not have to share eight to ten men per room like before, and sleep on bunks.
Samantha asked to message her after final formation. A look at my phone, it was only ten after. Getting off base was like rush hour. Everyone is leaving out one gate at the same time, and she lived off post. Give her, maybe, an hour to get home, relax, and then we can talk. On second thought, an hour. Yeah. An hour.
The days seemed to be dragging. There was always one more lecture, one more piece of paper, one more thing that some officer needed. I did everything, signed it, reported in, gave my contact information and more importantly, I got my phone. Sitting in my room, holding this little black device in my hands. Still trying to figure out how to use it. Slowly the clock rolled on. Figured out how to take pictures and video. The internet signal was half-strength. Probably due to the barracks structure.
Not enough time had passed. Setting down the phone, I got to the closet, remove my stuffed duffel bag, and remove the contents for a third time. A duffel can hold a surprisingly large amount of stuff. One trick that I did learn, you can pack even more using Ziploc bags. Stuff the items inside the plastic bags and compress, forcing all the air out, clothes would lose half their mass. Each bag is removed and arrayed onto the bed.
A look at the phone, it was 5:56PM, and I thought, "Hell! Close enough!" Took up the phone, and tapped out a text message, "This is Pvt. Cole. I have a phone now!" After sending it out I placed the phone on my night stand and went back to work. Within a couple of minutes, the phone began vibrating. I dropped my clothes and picked it up to read the screen.
"Great! How are you doing?" she asked.
"I'm doing good. You?" I wrote back. It was so strange sending her messages this way, when we would spend the weekends together, face to face.The phone vibrated again.
"I'm lonely and horny," she replied.
My eyebrows buckled. Samantha went straight to the point. "You're only lonely till Friday" I reminded her.
Sending the message and resuming packing, her reply was swift, "Yeah. Did you pack your trunks?"
"Yes. Did you?" teasing her.
"Yes, baby. I got a good one for you. I'm not telling you what it is. You'll love it. I'm still horny."
Two weeks apart, I was horny, and lonely, as well. I desired Samantha. To give her what she wanted required me to save up, at least till Friday night. Samantha saw it differently. After sending each response I tried to finish packing. Her fingers were faster, giving only a few seconds before another message arrived.
"The plane tickets will be at the kiosk where we check bags," Samantha wrote. "It's going to be Business Class for us. Not flying with the peasants." Good. Our departure was from Topeka Airport, a good ninety-minute drive from Fort Riley. From there we take a puddle jumper to Wichita. A half-hour layover there. Then it's a five plus hour flight to San Diego.
"That's good. How was your day?" I wrote.
"Rough," was her single word response.
