field instruction manuals.
He had enlisted under contract to become an aviation electronics maintenance specialist,
a military occupational specialty that would enable him to utilize his already considerable
electronics skills, as well as work on the aircraft he had adored all his life. For
the first time since childhood, Ray was close to being happy.
But things were not to remain happy for Private First Class Raymond Cowell. Shortly
after his eighteenth birthday, and a week prior to graduation at the top of his avionics
radar systems class, his military career and all that it promised came to a screeching
halt.
By then, Ray had been in the army for almost a full year. He was stationed at Fort
Rucker, Alabama, while attending advanced aviation electronics training. He’d made
rank quickly and had attracted the attention of several of his senior instructors
for his unassuming personality, laser-like focus, and burgeoning electronics skills.
As a result, he’d been recommended for assignment to a rotary-wing maintenance unit,
highly coveted duty typically not offered to a soldier of his limited tenure. If Ray
worked hard, he could be assigned to a helicopter maintenance aircrew. After that,
maybe even advancement to warrant officer status and a shot at becoming a crew chief
on a helicopter of his own. His boyhood dreams of flight would be realized.
With newfound confidence chipping away at his normally restrained temperament, Ray
allowed his fellow graduating classmates to talk him into a night of celebration.
The party was to be at one of Enterprise, Alabama’s local nightclubs. It would be
a night Ray would never forget.
Ray and his classmates went to a club whose patrons consisted mostly of soldiers from
nearby Fort Rucker. The place was loud, raucous, and packed with GIs in various stages
of intoxication. The club was also brimming with girls.
Ray had never before consumed an alcoholic beverage. His introduction to the world
of liquor was shots of tequila washed down with mugs of beer. And Ray had seldom ever
spoken to a member of the opposite sex, much less been on a date. It was therefore
both strange and exhilarating to find himself for the first time chugging drink after
drink and dancing with girl after girl.
As the evening of revelry progressed, his fellow soldiers took turns staggering outside
to the parking lot with a girl, to the leers and cheers of his drunken pals. One of
the soldiers had driven the group to the club, and his parked car was serving double
duty as a makeshift hotel room. After a few minutes, each soldier and his companion,
usually wearing sly grins and adjusting their disheveled clothing, would stagger back
into the club, this time to the thunderous applause and lewd comments of the crowd.
Suddenly it was Ray’s turn.
By now, Ray had lost track of the number of drinks he’d consumed and was having difficulty
focusing his vision. He realized he was about to have sex; something he’d hitherto
only read about in magazines.
Leaning against him was a slovenly, dark-haired girl who said her name was Candy.
She insisted she was eighteen years old; a claim few believed but nobody disputed.
Ray learned that Candy was a regular at the club, and he’d lost track of the number
of times she’d dragged him onto the dance floor. As his buddies raised their glasses
and cheered, Candy led him out to the parking lot.
A moment later, Ray found himself sitting in the back seat of his classmate’s car,
his head swimming and his stomach lurching. His hands felt many times their normal
size, and he kept waving them in front of his face in a dazed stupor. Candy, who seemed
to hold her liquor far better than Ray, was busy undressing.
Candy removed her bra and lifted her skirt above her waist. She began to undress Ray
and struggled with the brass buckle of his class A uniform belt.
Ray was disgusted. He knew this was supposed
He had enlisted under contract to become an aviation electronics maintenance specialist,
a military occupational specialty that would enable him to utilize his already considerable
electronics skills, as well as work on the aircraft he had adored all his life. For
the first time since childhood, Ray was close to being happy.
But things were not to remain happy for Private First Class Raymond Cowell. Shortly
after his eighteenth birthday, and a week prior to graduation at the top of his avionics
radar systems class, his military career and all that it promised came to a screeching
halt.
By then, Ray had been in the army for almost a full year. He was stationed at Fort
Rucker, Alabama, while attending advanced aviation electronics training. He’d made
rank quickly and had attracted the attention of several of his senior instructors
for his unassuming personality, laser-like focus, and burgeoning electronics skills.
As a result, he’d been recommended for assignment to a rotary-wing maintenance unit,
highly coveted duty typically not offered to a soldier of his limited tenure. If Ray
worked hard, he could be assigned to a helicopter maintenance aircrew. After that,
maybe even advancement to warrant officer status and a shot at becoming a crew chief
on a helicopter of his own. His boyhood dreams of flight would be realized.
With newfound confidence chipping away at his normally restrained temperament, Ray
allowed his fellow graduating classmates to talk him into a night of celebration.
The party was to be at one of Enterprise, Alabama’s local nightclubs. It would be
a night Ray would never forget.
Ray and his classmates went to a club whose patrons consisted mostly of soldiers from
nearby Fort Rucker. The place was loud, raucous, and packed with GIs in various stages
of intoxication. The club was also brimming with girls.
Ray had never before consumed an alcoholic beverage. His introduction to the world
of liquor was shots of tequila washed down with mugs of beer. And Ray had seldom ever
spoken to a member of the opposite sex, much less been on a date. It was therefore
both strange and exhilarating to find himself for the first time chugging drink after
drink and dancing with girl after girl.
As the evening of revelry progressed, his fellow soldiers took turns staggering outside
to the parking lot with a girl, to the leers and cheers of his drunken pals. One of
the soldiers had driven the group to the club, and his parked car was serving double
duty as a makeshift hotel room. After a few minutes, each soldier and his companion,
usually wearing sly grins and adjusting their disheveled clothing, would stagger back
into the club, this time to the thunderous applause and lewd comments of the crowd.
Suddenly it was Ray’s turn.
By now, Ray had lost track of the number of drinks he’d consumed and was having difficulty
focusing his vision. He realized he was about to have sex; something he’d hitherto
only read about in magazines.
Leaning against him was a slovenly, dark-haired girl who said her name was Candy.
She insisted she was eighteen years old; a claim few believed but nobody disputed.
Ray learned that Candy was a regular at the club, and he’d lost track of the number
of times she’d dragged him onto the dance floor. As his buddies raised their glasses
and cheered, Candy led him out to the parking lot.
A moment later, Ray found himself sitting in the back seat of his classmate’s car,
his head swimming and his stomach lurching. His hands felt many times their normal
size, and he kept waving them in front of his face in a dazed stupor. Candy, who seemed
to hold her liquor far better than Ray, was busy undressing.
Candy removed her bra and lifted her skirt above her waist. She began to undress Ray
and struggled with the brass buckle of his class A uniform belt.
Ray was disgusted. He knew this was supposed
Similar Books
