Fort Leonard Wood, Missouri
October 1978
When I left for basic training, I was naive country boy from a small town in South Carolina. I was a bit of a mamma's boy and leaving home for the first time was a traumatic experience for me, and even 36 years later, I remember that day well. My journey started on a Grey Hound bus that took me to Columbia, and after a day of processing at Fort Jackson, several other "trainees" and I were put on a Delta Airlines flight to St. Louis. Then after another long bus ride, I finally arrived at Fort Leonard Wood where I would begin basic training.
Two weeks later I was seriously questioning my decision to join the Army, and wondering if I was even going to be able to make it through basic training. My body ached from all the exercising, and I desperately missed home. I was also finding it hard getting use to being surrounded by guys all the time, and I found myself having doubts about my own masculinity.
I slept in a room with a dozen guys from every corner of the country and we were greeted every morning by screaming drill sergeants, who were all intimidating figures, especially when they were right in your face. I was one of the smallest guys in my platoon, and all the physical aspects of our training seemed so easy for the others while I sometimes struggled to keep pace.
There was also no privacy at all. The other guys in my room were always walking around in their underwear or completely naked. I had especially begun to feel increasingly uncomfortable taking a shower when surrounded by so many of my fellow trainees. Everywhere I looked was a hard, naked muscular bodies and so many dicks...and not just dicks, many were really, really big dicks...especially the black guys, and probably at least half the guys in my platoon were black.
I had a difficult time forcing myself not stare at the really well hung black guys, especially when they were standing right next to me in the shower. I had seen fairly big dicks on a few of the black guys I played football with in high school, but gosh, some of the soldiers in my platoon were hung like horses! I swear I was in awe.
Amplifying my growing discomfort was the fact that there was no way for me to get any sexual relief, and I started having wet dreams, some of which were really vivid. Almost all of these dreams involved me doing things with guys in my platoon, which was both embarrassing and confusing. I wasn't a fag or anything, so it was just so weird that I was having wet dreams about other guys. Why wouldn't I be dreaming about Vicky or Donna or one of the other girls I dated in high school?
I couldn't help but remember that my friend Andy had once told me that someday I would realize I was a homo just like him. At the time, I thought it was a ridiculous assertion. Sure I had played around with him and few other guys and I had even sucked a few dicks, but I assured him that I was never going to be a homo faggot or a fairy queer and I definitely preferred girls. Yet now, I just wasn't so sure and not nearly as confident about my masculinity. As crazy as it seemed it wasn't female companionship I was craving or dreaming about. I felt almost like I was a woman living among men and that there was a feminine side emerging from inside of me and taking over.
With each day that passed, it became more and more difficult for me to avoid looking at black guys in the shower, and even a casual glance put crazy thoughts in my head. It was practically impossible for me not to get aroused, and yet I knew the last thing I needed to do was to get an erection in the shower. A couple of times, I actually had to dash out when I felt my dick starting to swell to life.
Then, one night, this black guy named Nelson claimed he caught me checking out his dick as he showered next to me. He smiled and asked me, "You like what you see, Malone?"
I tried to play it off, but from the look in his eyes, I knew that he knew, and I was incredibly embarrassed. After that night, he and several of his friends started quietly ribbing me about being a fag and offering to let me suck their dicks. Some of them taunted me by calling me "Sweet Pete" and "Sweet Pea."
They amused themselves at my expense by openly speculating as to whether I took it in the ass. A couple of them would even grab or pat my ass when no one was looking.
Then one night in the crowded shower room this Hispanic guy Martinez was horsing around and came up behind me and grabbed my hips and briefly pressed his over-sized dick against my butt. All the guys got a good laugh out of it, and I felt so humiliated, especially when my dick started getting hard. The only thing I could think to do was storm out.
Their harassment got even worse after that and I was convinced it was never going to stop. It reminded me of what happen to these two friends of mine in high school. Somehow, a rumor started that they were both queers, and they started getting constantly harassed and were the brunt of jokes. I felt bad for them, but I was also thankful no one had ever connected me to them or questioned my sexuality like that, at least until now.
I was quickly becoming more and more intimidated and embarrassed, and I really wanted it to stop. I finally decided that I had enough and went to Drill Sergeant Jefferson's office to complain. He was this big black drill sergeant with a barreled chest and thick forearms. He had a booming voice and seemed to always be in a foul mood.
Unfortunately, his reaction was not what I hoped for. He got a good laugh out of my story. It was the first time I had seen him smile. He wrote down the names of the guys who had been harassing me and said he'd talk to them about it, but he could hardly keep a straight face, especially when I told him what they were calling me.
To avoid further harassment in the shower, I started waiting until as late as possible before lights out to take my showers. At exactly 2100, the CQ would kill all the lights no matter if anyone was still showering or not. I began cutting it closer and closer, barely making it out of the shower when the lights went out.
Then one night, some of the guys that had extra duty didn't get into the showers until late, and I reluctantly waited as long as possible. It was almost 2100 when I rushed into the shower, but at least it had cleared out. I was just beginning to soap up when the lights went out. There were a couple guys using the sinks and on the shitters, and I heard several of them growl and curse when the bathroom suddenly went black except for a fire light above the door.
It was almost pitch black inside the shower, but I decided to go ahead and finish up in the dark. I was thankful that I was the only one left showering. It was a little spooky in the darkness, and I wanted to get done as quickly as possible, but as I washed my dick and balls, I found myself becoming aroused. It had been weeks since I had jerked off and my dick was screaming for relief.
