Chuck didn’t last long at Yokota. He got off on the wrong foot with Captain Lesley Madison, commander of the Armed Forces Radio & Television Service, and compounded his troubles when he got involved with Wendy Sawaski, the base commander’s underage daughter. It was common knowledge to everyone but Chuck that Wendy Sawaski was a first-rate cock tease. Three weeks after our adventure on Bar Row, Chuck was gone, transferred to Andersen AFB, Guam. I received the following letter – one of only a handful Chuck has ever written me – about ten days later.
(Scrawled in pencil on Hilton Hotel stationery) Greetings from Andersen AFB, Guam. I’m wiped tonight man, stuck on this slab of rock out here in the middle of the ocean. The Fascists fixed me good, and all because of that little tramp, Wendy Sawaski. I don’t know what you heard, but I didn’t fuck her; I got as far as unsnapping her bra before the curtain came down. Had I fucked her, this shithole situation might be tolerable, but as it is, I can only imagine what she might have been like in the horizontal position. No fifteen-year-old should have a body like that.
Women will kill me, no doubt about it.
Pussy is a scarce commodity down here. Most of the local ladies are lard-ass fat and surly; the ranks of the dependent population are thin. In my previous incarnation I must have been a real asshole because I sure am paying for it now. What’s ironic is that the local tourist spot, Tumon Bay, is crawling with Japanese chicks. I met a pair of birds yesterday afternoon on the beach by the Pacific Star Hotel, Tomoko and Hiroko from Osaka – or at least I think that’s where they said they were from. Tomoko was the better looking of the two, but a lousy, uninspiring fuck. We ditched Hiroko in the gift shop and went up to their room. It took a lot of work before I finally got it in, and then the chick hardly twitched. I dumped her in the lobby and tried my luck with Hiroko; I’m pleased to report that I fucked her properly without a lot of preliminary antics. She blew me, and even fingered my bunghole, which I thought was adventurous of her. I may see her again before she boogies back to the Land O the Rising Sun. I have half a mind to see if I can get Tomoko and Hiroko involved in a three-way. The idea has some interesting possibilities.
One of these days I’ll grow up and treat women like human beings instead of pleasure objects, but for now I’m still a satyr, constantly on the lookout for the next harbor in which to park my dick.
Well, man, that’s about it from this atoll. What the fuck am I doing here, 5,000 plus miles from home? How was I supposed to know that Wendy was only fifteen? Whyohwhyohwhy! I hear a B-52 accelerating at the end of the runway. When one of these lumbering beasts flies over the barracks the windows rattle and the water in the toilet sloshes around. It’s not the end of the world, it just sounds like it. I’m beat up and bruised and my pride is wounded, but I’m hanging in against Uncle Sam’s Air Force, still coming off my corner stool to throw combinations. What was it Hemingway said, “Man can be defeated but never destroyed.”?
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