Thread: New studio
View Single Post
  #82  
Old 10-02-2013, 10:50 AM
joseph engraver's Avatar
joseph engraver joseph engraver is offline
Platinum
 
Join Date: Sep 2007
Location: Sarzana,Italy
Posts: 620
Default Short stories from my past that I hope you will find interesting.

Steve once again I thank you for your kind generosity in letting me post here on the Watercooler.
Rodger I know that you must have been the exemplary military man that I was not.
My new studio is small and no longer produces engraving. Still I must create something.

Germany 1958
Spangdalum Air Force base was a recon outfit for the U.S Air Force in central Germany. The majority of the aircraft based there were F101 fighters resembling huge, aluminum skinned pterodactyls. Gleaming in the moonlight and casting dark shadows upon the tarmac as I made my nightly rounds in supposed vigilance. An M1 rifle, weighing nine pounds, six ounces over my shoulder, loaded 45 Colt automatic pistol strapped around my waist, both to become burdensome. For me Germany was the same as France with the off-duty hours spent in the bars. Like I did in France, I continued on my merry way towards hell. Between black marketing, the drinking, gambling and girls I was pooped out when it came time for me to guard a 3.6 million dollar fighter jet.
I eliminated the burden of the rifle by turning it into my alarm clock. Dressed warmly in parker and flight pants, I would lie on the tarmac underneath the aircraft, rifle balanced on its butt plate , close my eyes and try to learn Deutsch When I dozed off, the rifle would fall with a clatter, waking me from my nap. I’m sure my personnel file read like my school report card: Airman second Class Joseph Robert Lavernois, time in grade: three years, could do much better if he would only apply himself.
By the time I learned to say “Ein klein bier bitte,” I found myself involved with Anna Lisa a blue-eyed housemaid for a captain and his wife who lived in the married officer’s quarters... Her bedroom was located in what would have been the attic had it not been partitioned off for the foreign nationals. The captain and his wife lived on the lower level of one of four buildings. Each officer’s family had its own housemaid; meaning nine buxom Frauleins spent their restless lonely nights there. Because of its obvious attraction, it was strictly off limits to enlisted personnel. Rumors were that any Airman caught in those attic apartments was subject to losing his stripes and being sent to Saudi Arabia, Viet Nam or some other God forsaken place. This I understood clearly and had no doubts that these rumors were true.
One summer’s night Ana Lisa and I were in the midst of making love on the lawn. We were naked, our discarded clothing we had placed as a mattress over the dew covered grass. Suddenly I found myself in the spotlight’s glare of two laughing base patrol air police. After an embarrassing length of time, the spotlight finally extinguished and with a spray of gravel the Jeep sped away, leaving floating in the early morning air the profane laughter of my squad mates.
All passion destroyed, we began to dress. Ana Lisa said suddenly, “From now on, we make love in my room.” There you have it folks, the entire scenario.
“We can’t do that, I’ll go to prison. I’ll be court-martialed. I’ll lose my stripes. They’ll send me to Hell.”
“No, no, no,” assured Ana Lisa. “All you have to do is come up to my room while everyone’s asleep and leave before they awaken.”
Simple plans for simple minds. What defense could I present to this idea?
The following night we sat at the local bar drinking beer until 11 or so then went to the apartment complex, Ana Lisa scouted the way while I waited in the garden shrubs. Not seeing anything unusual she waved me forward. Across the lawn I flew, into the doorway and out of sight. Taking me by the hand, she led me up the stairwell to her room. It was furnished with a cot, wall locker, washbasin, and a small window that overlooked the airbase. This small space with angled ceiling and drab walls became my palace of pleasure every time I was free. Each night off found me on that cot, tasting life’s pleasures. If I had a three-day pass I spent it there in the attic room. Ana Lisa would bring me food to eat and we would make love.
The room next door was occupied by another buxom, blue-eyed blond by the name of Karina. Karina also had her lover encamped in her room. One morning about three o’clock all hell broke loose as Karina’s lover had found a letter written to her from a previous love. This brought on a tirade of jealousy that was enough to wake up half the air base. Being a dumb lad but nevertheless possessing the capacity to reason I realized my situation was not good. I got out of bed, One Eyed Willy quickly becoming wilting will. Nervous and naked, still my mind was not ready to forget about sex.
Quickly I dressed and went out into the corridor. The noise in buxom blue-eyed blonds’ room had ended. As I stepped in the hallway I recognized the profile of Sergeant McDowell headed out the door. The tall, dumb, blond, blue-eyed, broad shouldered idiot slammed blue eye’s door then he took the steps down and out of the building three at a time. I was sure I had been trapped.
The Battle of my Body Parts
Common sense said, “Get the hell out of here right now.”
One-Eyed-Willy had finally recovered his voice and was arguing for waiting it out.
“Maybe no one heard,” he whispered.
“Do you really think so?” Brain responded.
“Well, what have we got to lose?” Willy argued. “Why not just wait here in this corridor?”
It was so quiet now that I could hear my poor confused heart banging away inside my rib cage. “What we’ll do is just stay cool. If someone comes up the end stairwell, we’ll go down this one right here,” said Willy.
We all turned to look at the stairwell. Feet had now decided to enter the conversation as they were totally committed to the cause, no matter who won the argument that was now raging in my body parts? Feet said after a minute or two of silence, “I can get us out of here in three, maybe four seconds.”
Brain declared, “I’m in, we’ll wait it out.”
“How long should we wait?” asked Reason?
“Four minutes more,” suggested One-Eyed-Willy.
“I’d say eight,” suggested Feet.
Reason suggested fifteen, but was outvoted by Willy and Feet. A compromise was made by Brain for ten minutes of complete silence. Once more united, my twenty-year-old body parts turned to more carnal thoughts.
“I really liked it when she kissed each and every one of me,” sighed Feet.
“Me, I like it best, the wet warmth of her inside,” said Willy perking up a bit.
“Me I just like being held next to one of those sweet nipples,” confessed Reason.
“How long have we been out here now?” Asked Willy
“I guess it’s been about five minutes,” Answered Brain.
“I think that’s long enough,” Reason decided.
“Shall we go back in?” Suddenly Willy was standing up, staring straight at the door.
“I’m hot to trot,” injected Feet.
“United we stand,” Willy declared.
My hand twisted down the knob to Ana Lisa’s quarters.
Ana Lisa and I had finally calmed down enough to start hugging and kissing again. I was soon naked again, my civvies strewn all over the room, naked down to my wiggling toes. Back in bed we went, all suddenly well with Willy, Brain, Feet, and Me for we had found our peace.
Willy had hardly started what he very much wanted to do when the silence shattering knocking began on the locked door to Ana Lisa’s room. (You see, I did learn something from past experiences.)
“Ana Lisa, open the door. This is your mistress.” More knocking.
“Open your door this minute. This is your captain speaking.” At the sound of the Captain’s voice, One-Eyed-Willy completely withdrew, leaving Feet and Reason to deal with the consequences. As quickly and quietly as possible I gathered up my clothing, put pants and shirt on and stuffed shorts, socks and tee shirt into the pants pockets. With jacket in my hand I started searching desperately for my shoes. Reason was screaming, “Get your shoes and get the hell out of this place.” The knocking was louder and coming at more frequent intervals. I could not delay my departure from sweet Ana Lisa’s charms any longer. Shoes or no shoes I crawled out the window and up onto the dormer. I was now perched like a plucked eagle on the dark, wet, slippery tile roof of the three story building.
The view from my perch was breathtaking. I could see everything by the light of the three quarter moon shining opaquely upon the German landscape. Directly across from me were the darkened windows of married officer’s quarter’s number two and three. To the right I had a great view of the entire airfield. It was all very exciting.
Ana Lisa’s blond head suddenly poked through the window below my perch.
“I can’t find your shoes,” she said practically in tears.
“Look once more and if you don’t find them, open the door and let them in,” I groaned. The lock was unbolted and the door to her room opened. Light flashed on, and then I heard “There’s a man in here. There are his shoes under the bed.”
At this point I positively knew I have a very serious situation to contend with.
Once again the condemning woman repeated herself. “There’s a man in here. See those shoes are under that bed.”
“You go down and call the Air Police, I’ll watch the room,” the captain’s voice came loud and clear through the window. Again silence settled down over the building. Very few minutes later I saw two sets of flashing blue lights leave the Air Police Central Command .They went up the perimeter road headed in my direction. I watched in fascination those whirling blue lights until they finally disappearing from my sight as they pulled up in front.
Well, There I was perched on top of this dormer somewhere in Germany, a twenty-year-old idiot, completely trapped with no place to go but the stockade. I finally calmed down once again and Hope spoke up.
“Maybe there is another way. Perhaps you could find another attic window open or just smash a glass pane, enter into another room and escape.” Reason scoffed. “We will never make it to the stairwell.” Brain then commented. “Joseph the Fool, two air police patrols equal at least four men, most likely six. Two will be checking out the rooms, the other four watching hallways and the stairwells. You are definitely screwed.”
Suddenly, the crown of a white top helmet appeared directly below me and looked right; studying the roofline for the dark shaded form of this dummy. After a careful search of that side of the roof, the helmeted head snapped left and continued with its inspection of the dew-covered tiles. All of this activity taking place in slow motion. My mind was racing; the ideas were flowing, matching the pace of the adrenaline entering my body.
“Well I don’t see anyone out there,” floated the helmeted voice outside the window and into my ear. Had Helmet Head taken the time to look upward during his search, he would have found himself in direct eye contact with Airman Second Class and soon to prisoner J.R. Lavernois, currently on temporary duty from Vouziers, France.
When young, one has accurate hearing, eagle’s eyesight and the agility of a cat.
Brain comes up with this misguided idea... The front of this building has a small terrace for each apartment. They were only ten feet above one another. I could go up to the peak of the roof, down the other side, hang by the gutter, drop the remaining meter or so to a terrace, climb over that railing, hang down, drop to the second terrace, jump over the railing into the soft soil and beat feet out of the area.
As all of this was whirling around in my head, I heard Ana Lisa’s frightened voice asking to go to the toilet. The captain gives her permission to go. Ana Lisa capitalizing on the moment, dashes down the stairs, out the backdoor, across the backyard and disappears into the adjacent building. What to my wondering eyes should appear but Ana Lisa leaning out of her girlfriend’s apartment crying and yelling, “Don’t fall!" Don’t fall!” Me across the courtyard waving my arms back and forth whispering, “Shut up! Please, shut up!” She realizes what she’s been doing and suddenly goes silent, but she and her friends continue to watch as me and my disaster continues.
By now I have been perched on the pointy and uncomfortable piece of the roof for forty minutes. Suddenly a very bright flashlight begins its probing search along the entire roof’s incline. It stops to examine the windows of the other maid’s quarters. Finding nothing, it sweeps ward and continues its scrutiny of the cold wet tiles. Now the dull red glow of sunrise has come to the horizon. Daylight is not far away. I must hurry. I must escape. Now the beam of light is but one window away. I pull my black jacket over my head, make myself into the tiniest ball possible and try to hide myself. I close my eyes and wish to disappear. The light finds me, recognizes me, stares at me for a second, then moves on.
From below whispers reach my ears, indistinct and low. Suddenly a voice, loud and clear, crows, “We may as well go. There’s no one up there.” More whispers in the dark. The sun is rising. I must flee from you charms. I have no hope but to go over the roof to the front side.
I make my dash for the ridge top. I’m halfway there when my feet slip out from under me. I start sliding backwards, down toward the eave. I dig in with my fingernails, I break my toenails trying to stop the slide, yet I just keep gathering speed. Suddenly my feet dropped down into the rain gutter. I am face down, spread eagled on that roof, my racing heart trying to break through my ribcage. I could not breathe but in short hoarse gasps. My entire body is unable to move. Soon a handcuff was wrapped around one of my wrists and I am hauled up through the window where other hands grabbed my arms, wrapped them behind my back and slip the shackles around my wrist. This incident definitely put my chances at promotion in jeopardy.
Barefoot, I was hustled from the room, down the staircase I should have taken earlier,
I am dragged across the lawn and shoved into the back of a squad car. As we drive away,my fellow squad mates started roaring with laughter. “Boy you are a dumb son of a B,.
I was taken to the guardhouse, released from the handcuffs and placed in a cell.
After the bolts are thrown and I am alone and shoeless, I sit on the cot and let my head drop to
my chest, close my eyes and think. “You surely are a dumb s of a B.”
The End
__________________
"What a large volume of adventures may be grasped within this little span of life by him who interests his heart in everything"-Lawrence Sterne
Reply With Quote