In The Navy 1

I think it would be fair to clearly state that there are most likely grammatical errors to be found in this.

I did my best, but English is my second language and searching for an editor turned out to be harder than writing this story.

I don't ask for mercy, though. If you find mistakes: tell me. I'll work them in and hopefully will get better in the process.

I know that it is considered disrespectful to publish something not thoroughly corrected. But to be honest I really want to find out if I actually can write in an entertaining way in English, first.

*****

I have many memories from my time as a seaman of the German Navy. I was young and didn't know shit about the world in general and women in particular. Plus I had no confidence to speak of when I joined. When my term of enlistment ended, I still didn't know much and was certainly none the wiser, but I had gained confidence. And I got laid surprisingly often.

When I think about that time, there is one memory that stands out. Some kind of first time in a way. The first time I met a woman from and in another country

intimately

...

It was only one and a half years after joining the Navy. One year of instruction until I was ready to be sent to my ship and do my job as a radar operator and petty officer and half a year of shipboard experience mostly composed of training, training and - let me think about it - yeah, training. All of it in preparation for going down to the Mediterranean to enforce the embargo against civil warring Yugoslavia.

The last part of preparations was a trip to Norway - more precisely Stavanger - for radar operational-tests and measurement. Something each of our ships had to go through every couple of years.

For me, it was the first time I would see another country. But to be honest there was not much time to be excited.

The days at sea were filled with drill, drill and then some drill to round the meal. And once we reached Norwegian territorial waters we got surprised by an impromptu exercise with a Norwegian Frigate and some of their air force units. But at least it wasn't another firefighting, man over board, medical emergency, or leakage drill. So everybody was actually kinda grateful for the distraction.

My job was to spot and track incoming airplanes. Not the most important job on a ship that was built for hunting submarines and wasn't meant to operate alone, but anyway...

I think the point of this exercise was to train joint operations with other Navies. Something we would need experience with when operating in the Med in a multinational naval formation. But every military purpose lost its significance when I accidentally started to have a lot of fun.

Part of my job was to call every possible threat spotted in my area of responsibility via radio. And of course everybody else listened to that frequency and said everything important there, too. That's why there was something called 'radio discipline' to abide by.

My aerial surveillance responsibility was shared with that of our Norwegian partner in the exercise. And like with our ship, it wasn't their main business to engage airplanes. Therefore I happened to share my workload with only one other person. And she happened to be female and sounded amazingly cute.

Whenever she acknowledged something I said I felt some kind of shiver going down my spine. The first time I heard her voice is still clear and fresh in my memory even today - many, many years later.

"This is

Callsign

," I shouted shortly after the start of the exercise. And of course 'Callsign' stands for a seemingly random combination of numbers and letters; I'm not allowed to tell, since they were confidential. Top secret, even if I could remember the particular call signs of that day. "New Boogey! Bearing 247! Closing fast! Over."

It doesn't matter that I told everybody this way that a new contact was coming from the lower left with high speed. That was part of the exercise and no real surprise. What mattered to me was the answer:

"A'dis is

Callsign

," she chirped, "A'rogerr, ouverr."

It was the way she put a cute little 'a' in front of every sentence she said and the way she rolled her 'r', that did it for me. And she did that every time she talked over the radio.

After a while I used every single opportunity to provoke an answer from her. Normally she had to answer, when I said 'over'. Even if it was only an acknowledgment of me saying something. I clearly remember our officer in charge of the exercise slowly getting upset from my talkative mood. But that didn't bother me the least.

In the end we managed to virtually shoot one plane down and got virtually sunk about a dozen times. Yay!

When we were almost finished I couldn't resist. I just

had

to compliment her.

Therefore I said: "

Callsign

, this is

Callsign

. Thank you for lightening up my day with your stunning voice."

Bear with me. I actually had thought about what to say for half an hour. I know that it wasn't the most original thing, but I was pretty young and pretty nervous.

Anyway...

"A'dis is

Callsign

," she said and I swear I heard her grinning. "A'rogerr-out."

It was immediately followed by the voice of my commanding officer barking into the frequency and demanding said 'radio discipline'. And that was followed by him rushing over to my place and telling me for about ten minutes, what he would do with me, my career and my ass if I ever -

ever

- dared to do something like this again.

But fuck... It was worth it.

Afterward, life went on and we got into harbor. Or to be more precise to a pier in the midst of the small city. And the Norwegian Frigate accompanied us. Finally docking directly behind our ship.

There was no doubt that we would pay our visit and bring some booze and cigarettes with us. The stuff was amazingly expensive in Norway in those days and we had plenty.

Blessed with being petty officers and therefore leaving the actual work behind to be done by the regular crewmen, most of us who had decided to visit the Norwegians were ready when it was called it a day. And we - or more accurately the booze, the smokes and then us sailors in that order - were greeted by some of the Norwegian petty officers and led to their mess.

We were standing around and taking the first swigs of beer, when finally one of the Norwegians finally dared to ask.

"So... who was it?"

It was pretty clear what he meant. And apparently all of them wanted to know it. The idle chatter stopped almost instantly.

I knew very well that somebody would finally answer the question. Most of my comrades knew by now what I had done. They had taken the opportunity to laugh about it. Therefore I just raised my hand, lowered my head and prepared for the most likely reaction.

Naturally, there was a lot of laughter. But they also patted my back and gave me advice how to meet a girl for real, instead of trying to date via military radio frequencies. Most of the jokes were good natured, so I grinned a bit sheepishly and bore it.

But not everybody was laughing and joking. There was at least one guy who seemed to scorn me. At that point I thought he might be just a little bit more uptight than the others.

The party went on and the topic had almost been dropped in favor of more interesting things, when a girl entered the mess. Unlike our ship this one had no separate hallway to get by the large common room. You had to cross it to reach the aft section of the ship.

I noticed her almost immediately. As did my people.

It wasn't a question of gender as much as it was a question of dress. Or no dress in this case, for she did only wear a towel wrapped around her torso.

For me it was more than a little awkward to see a woman on board of a ship this way. But the Norwegians didn't care much. Until the one that scorned me a little earlier noticed her, that is.

I couldn't understand what he called out to her. But I saw her hesitating for a moment. Who wouldn't have paused when confronted with half a dozen staring guys? But then she straightened her back and came over to say hello and talk to the one who called her out.

Like my comrades I really tried to concentrate on something else. But of course we all noticed every tiny move her body made.

Like most Norwegian girls I met back then I found her very cute. There almost appeared to be a law against the unattractive ones showing up when foreigners where around.

However, unlike so many Norwegians she actually was brunette instead of blonde. And she really had those light green eyes to match that. Her face - for real the second thing after the general impression I noticed - was cute. Her features were delicate and of course freckled.

Her body on the other hand was lithe and curvy, but also remarkably muscular. Not like female bodybuilders, but more like runners or swimmers. Probably both. Her strong thighs were matched by protruding hips and a slender waist and her bosom was up to that image. All in all she looked fit and sturdy and not the least bit fragile.

But the most remarkable thing about her was, that she was rather short compared to the average Norwegian. Maybe 1.65 meters - or five feet five inches - at best.

While talking the guy gave her his glass of beer and she took a swig or two. I got the impression that he was her superior and that it wasn't much of a deal to talk to somebody only wearing a towel on Norwegian ships. Nobody seemed to think anything of it.

After a short while, he also gave her the bottle of whiskey we had brought with us and encouraged her to give it a try. It was when she nipped cautiously that he made his move.

Everybody - Norwegians and Germans alike - was surprised, when he stepped around her and shoved her into the group by her shoulders. He maneuvered her directly to confront me and switched to English to say:

"Now this is your '

cute guy

' from the radio. Have fun..."

I didn't even have the time to comprehend what he meant, before he ripped her towel away from behind and left her totally naked amidst the group.

It was one of those moments when time stands still.

The room was silent in an instant and every single guy stared to her breasts. She blushed and for a second I expected her to panic. But then she looked up at me.

To be perfectly honest, I got my look at her boobs. It was an almost automatic drop of the eyes and I didn't regret seeing those full, round apples, with their pert little nipples surrounded by small aureoles. But after this moment of weakness I looked into her face.

As far as I had managed to comprehend this was the owner of the cute voice from the afternoon. And I was really interested in more than just her chest, or her taut stomach, or her alluring...

What?! You'd have to be gay not to notice that, too.

She frowned and stared into my eyes. It wasn't fair that she had to find herself in this situation and I felt sympathy. I almost made my decision to step up and cover her. But she acted an instant before me.

She made a step forward and pressed herself against my body. Her hands were still occupied by the glass and the bottle. She didn't let go of them. Maybe because alcohol was

really

expensive in Norway. Or maybe just because she did not think about it.

I lifted my arms and brought my hands to my shoulders. It was pretty clear for me what to do next.

When joking about a situation like this, I would have chipped in that the best reaction would be to step back and take a second look. But this wasn't a joke. It was real. And my mother did a good job in teaching me to respect women.

I grabbed my shirt at the neck and pulled it up.

Of course nobody realized my intention. I got cheers almost immediately. They all thought I'd kinda strip or something.

The face of the girl directly in front of me grew concerned first. She frowned again and maybe she was about to regret her choice. But my face never lost its serious expression and apparently calmed her worries.

To be honest again I really noticed the touch of her skin on my stomach. It was warm and felt like silk.

I'll never forget the moment when my shirt lifted her breast ever so slightly and her slowly hardening nipples poked into my upper body. That was one great feeling!

But I didn't hesitate. I got rid of my shirt and slipped it over her head in one motion. Since it was several sizes larger than her frame, it came down by itself after I leaned back a bit to give room for that.

The shirt slipped down over her torso and hips and managed to cover enough of her body to be decent. So I could step to the side and halfway around her to put my fist directly into the face of the shithead, who had brought his female comrade into this embarrassing situation.

I didn't care for the reasons he had or for his rank. I had no doubt that something like this wouldn't be deemed appropriate even in the unreserved air of the Norwegian Navy. In fact I did it to... well... kinda defend her honor. To exact revenge on her behalf, or something.

I happened to be that kind of guy.

He didn't see it coming. And afterward he didn't see anything, because he dropped immediately.

Two of the other Norwegians made a step into my direction, but I ignored them completely. I just turned around, swept the girl from her feet and took her onto my arms.

"Your quarters?"

"Huh...", she gasped, surprised by the sudden motion, but she accommodated herself quickly and brought one arm around my neck. "Down there."

I walked into the direction she pointed out and tried not to think about consequences. Most likely I had beaten a superior of an allied naval force and would have to face disciplinary measures soon. But for now I had a job to do. As a man and as a sailor, too.

"You don't have to carry me all the way", she said smiling, suggesting I could let her down.

"I'm a sailor, Madam. And a member of the German Navy. We live to carry a damsel in distress in our arms, to the end of the world, if need be."

"A damsel in distress?" she laughed. "Well I'm a sailor, too. I hope you don't expect me to return the favor when the situation is reversed."

I tensed a bit while walking down the hallway. I realized only now that I was bare to the waist. I got self-conscious immediately.

Objectively viewed I was in good shape. I had been through three strenuous months of exercises with the ship and four weeks of training with the German Kampfschwimmer - some equivalent of the American SEALS - learning boarding procedures and combat tactics in preparation of our trip to the Mediterranean. But even now I had some love handles left I couldn't get rid of.

And before that I had been outright overweight almost all of my life. I had never been overly confident. Now I got reminded that the reaction of girls was one main reason for this lack of confidence.

She must have sensed my thoughts. I'm pretty sure they were written all over my face.

"I mean you're large and strong and I'm the smallest crewmember on board..."

"I'm not that strong. It's you. You're airy."

"Huh..."

She really blushed a little in spite of the fact that she hat to know that all too well.

"Thank you. But you are wrong. You not only easily carry me around. You knocked out Christian with one strike."

"Lucky hit..." I tried to understate it. But to be honest I reveled in her praise.

"This door," she pointed out. "You can really let..."

Instead of listening I just opened the door and brought her in. It was a four person accommodation for petty officers and nobody was present. Only then, after closing the door, did I finally let her down.

Standing in front of each other the situation was a little bit awkward. I did the only thing I could do and turned around to leave the room. My plan was to wait outside and give her the time to change. And I would have said so, but she was first.

"Wait..." she said almost bustling. "Don't leave. Your shirt..."

"I just wanted to be decent and wait outside," I explained.

"Oh..." I think I heard her blush. "Well..."

I reached out to take the door handle.

"Is it true?" she blurted out.

"Huh? What?"

My hand paused.

"Are you the one from the radio?"

"Well..." Now it was my turn to blush. "Yeah... I'm sorry. I was just..."

"No," she chimed in. "No. I felt... flattered. That was..."

"Cute?" I dared to ask. "Like in '

the cute guy

'?"

"Yeah." Now she snickered a bit. "Actually it was... It... is..."

"Well... I'm sorry that I couldn't live up to the expectation."

Oh shut up. I know myself that it was absolutely unnecessary to say something like that. But it slipped out anyway.

There was a moment of silence behind me. As far as I could tell she hadn't started to get dressed. And since I felt I had busted the talkative mood I once again reached for the handle.

"What's your name?" she gently asked.

"Mike..."

"Well... I'm Kristanna."

She took a deep breath.

"Would you please turn around, Mike?"

"I... uh..."

"Just pretty please..."

It was almost a whisper.

I did as she said. She told me to do it and so it wouldn't be wrong, right?

I was in no way prepared to find out that she had taken off my shirt already. My jaw dropped and this time I didn't look into her face.

"Hi Mike. Nice to meet you..." she cooed.

I finally managed to get myself together enough to meet her gaze. She smiled confidently. She was apparently used to the reactions her naked body evoked.

But there was nothing vain in her eyes. They were tender and warm and strangely welcoming.

"I don't know why you think lowly of yourself, but I don't," she explained softly. "You not only saved me when you could have had your fun along with the others. But you also did what I could have never done to my superior and... Ex..."

So that was the reason for his strange behavior: Jealousy.

"Now this damsel isn't in distress anymore. She's not even a damsel. But she'd really like to get those arms around her once again. Do you think there might be a way...?"

Kristanna had taken some slow steps into my direction and used her stunning body for maximum effect. What I lacked in confidence she had tenfold. The temperature inside the small room climbed up immediately and I felt a certain erotic tension. Not only below my waistline, but between the two of us as well.

When she reached me I was game. I would never have taken the first step with this awesome woman. And she must have sensed that and made up for it. When she slipped into my arms I couldn't do anything but embrace her tentatively.

This time I could concentrate on the feeling of her skin touching mine. I loved the feeling when her soft breasts pressed into my upper body and how those two little nubs poked into my chest again.

Her hands worked their way from my lower arms up to my shoulders and then to my neck, where they signaled me to lower my head.

Before our mouths met for the first time, I felt like I was on autopilot, but the electricity of our first kiss woke me up from my stupor. To kiss this amazing girl who could have had anyone from my ship, but chose me, was kinda world shaking. I didn't want her to regret it.

Her lips parted almost immediately and I felt the tip of her tongue searching for its counterpart. I did my best to chase it around while trying not to get lost in the sweet taste of her mouth. But she evaded capture and teased me until I got really serious. Only when I put my arms around her back and shoulders and took control of the situation she stopped dodging and gave herself into the kiss completely.

And then it felt like we were made for each other. Neither of us could let go. We were kissing deeper and deeper until the need for air became almost unbearable. Only then we parted slightly and gasped for breath.