Navy Blues

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Sailors and neighbors.
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B_Bailey
B_Bailey
46 Followers

Back in 1972 while I was in college and working to support my habit of partying, studying and just living in general while at a Jr. College in Southeast Texas and running out of money I joined the Navy to help finish my education. I wanted to be an electrical engineer. I really didn't have those exceptionally high grades in high school so I had to work to support my education. My parents worked but with raising five kids asking them for financial support was just out of the question. They did help when they could mostly with things like food but other than that I was on my own.

Let me fill you in on a little of my past up to that point. I dated in high school. I was no jock but I guess I was fairly good looking and had my share of average to above average looking girl friends. My main squeeze in high school was a twirler so I was part of the semi-in crowd. I thought we would graduate and eventually get married. That just didn't happen. Somewhere about four months before we graduated, she broke it off with me and started dating her brother's friend. They eventually got married and lived happily ever after. I was disappointed but what the hell, we were young and resilient so no harm, no foul. I even see them from time to time and everything is cool.

During my junior and senior years in high school I attended the junior college two nights a week to learn the basics of my intended craft. I was doing pretty good with a GPA of 3.25 and felt pretty good about it all. Of course when my former girl friend and I broke up I was of course upset and that even affected my grades. So that is what brought my GPA down just a tad but was not a career killing thing.

During the summer of the year of my graduation I worked pretty hard and accepted whatever overtime I could get to save for the upcoming college year. A close friend of mine and I found an apartment off campus and moved in. The place had only one bedroom with at least two twin beds so it wasn't too bad for either of us. Of course entertaining members of the opposite sex would be, to say the least, just a little awkward, but we managed. As it turned out, while challenging it was not a real big deal.

During that summer I also found what the girl I would eventually marry. I met her at the Dairy Queen she worked at and I asked her out. To my surprise she accepted. She reminded me of a younger version of Raquel Welsh except not quite a pretty. Her body was a near match but her facial features to me were just a little more alluring. Shoot, this is real life not the movies. It was a whirl wind romance and two weeks before I shipped out to Navy boot camp we got married. I thought life was good at that time.

After boot camp I obtained my first leave and was headed home to my bride. Heehaw was all I could think of. Of course we visited her family and mine and one of her uncles had set up his camper for us to use while I was home. I bought a brand new Ford Pinto station wagon and we loaded it up heading to San Diego, California for my first duty station. With my enlistment I was guaranteed more school in the field of electricity and would spend about four months in that school before being transferred to Treasure Island, California for advanced training. My first day of Beep School (Basic Electricity and Electrical School) I tested out and only had to spend one month there before being transferred up north. As we say in Texas, Looking Good!

Everything I set out to do was going fine until we got to Treasure Island. We had found an apartment in Oakland, California by way of government housing for the military. There were ten units per building all full of one branch of the military or the other. Cost was low so it at least allowed us some money to go out every now and then. Then the shit hit the fan. One of my boot camp buddies and I ran across each other and we caught up on old times. It was fun but tense at the same time. It seemed to me he was actively flirting with my wife right in front of me. I didn't know whether to say anything about it or just ignore it. I guess now looking back I should have said something about it. I had let that first encounter slide and life went on.

My wife and I were having a few emotional issues about it at home and I was starting to get strained at school and eventually had to drop out. This meant I would be assigned aboard a ship at the Navy's earliest convenience. Well at least the ship was docked and would not sail for another six months so I had a chance to get acclimated to ship board activities. I would get there around 0600 hrs muster and be relieved to leave around 1500 hrs. So far things were working out between my wife and I so I was feeling better about things. Out of the blue I was informed that the ship would leave on ten day carrier qualifications in two weeks and to be aboard the day prior to leaving for evening muster and be prepared to live the "Navy Life" I had signed up for.

I had explained to her that she knew she signed up for this as had I but she was not a happy camper. I set sail early Monday morning for a ten day cruise to shake out any bugs from the new modifications and I adjusted to life aboard ship. I was looking forward to getting home with the wife so we could make up for lost time. Now remember the old adage, a sailor has a woman in each port. Well I had only one port and only one woman. I am a hands on type of person and could not wait to get my hands on her body and possess it like never before. I enjoy getting as well as getting oral stimulation and was looking forward to it. We had finished early by a day and a half and were pulling into port. We had secured the ship and were released early. That meant I would be at home by Tuesday afternoon instead of the planned Wednesday evening. How cool is this?

I lived within walking distance of the front gate of the Naval Base in Oakland, California so instead of calling, I merely walked the mile to the apartment complex. I looked forward to spending some intimate time with her and here I come! I let myself in the apartment and heard some moaning coming from the bedroom. I figured she was trying to get some personal release because I had been gone. How wrong could I be at that time? I sneaked in to surprise her but I was the one that got surprised.

She had been raised by strict parents that did not mix white and black races even with friendships. I would never have believed what I was looking at. Stunned is the very first thing that came to mind. That was followed by shock, humiliation and finally anger. I knew I had to get out before something deadly happened. I sat on the back stairs of the apartment when I was suddenly struck with the ultimate revenge.

I knocked on the Air Patrolman's door to the apartment next to mine. When he answered the door I explained what had happened and he expressed something about he knew what was going on. It had been going on for a few days now but wasn't sure how he could tell me when I got home. He and I had become friends during our time of living next door. I wanted to borrow his .45 caliber automatic pistol. He freaked out and told me I could not and he would not let me use his weapon to kill either or both of them. I went on to tell him that it was impossible to tell if an automatic pistol was loaded or not. I asked him to make sure the weapon was cleared and told him that my .32 caliber pistol was in the night stand next to the bed they were rutting in. He started to see the logic in my request. I also asked that he and his wife knock the doors of the other apartments and invite anyone and everyone that wanted to see the ordeal to parade through the apartment. I just did not want any children to see this. I would use his .45 to get my .32 and if any gunfire erupted it would be from my gun, not his.

As I left with his unloaded weapon he and his wife left the apartment and went knocking. In less than five minutes shit was about to hit the fan and I was the motor driving the blades. As this buck was on the outstroke I merely put the .45 up to his naked but cheeks and cocked the hammer. He froze. I told him not to move or the last thing he would ever feel would be the sting of a bullet entering his ass and leaving out his dick. I walked around to the side of the bed and removed my .32 and put it in my waistband. Just about that time the parade started. In all my 21 years of life I had just witnessed the funniest thing in my entire life. His manhood went from the form of the big end of a baseball bat to shriveling within seconds. Just as he pulled out of my loving wife I heard a popping noise. Her feminine charms had tried to pull a vacuum on his dick and it literally made a popping noise while extricating himself from her. The parade of people started and I would not let either one of them cover up. It seems this Marine thought of himself as some sort of super stud and he tried to get out of bed when I pointed the .45 to his head aiming right between his eyes and he immediately laid back down.

Some of the husbands and more than a few of the wives had to have a second look at the scene on my bed. After everyone had paraded through the bedroom I had my buddy throw the guys clothes out the back window of the apartment and her clothes out the front window. I then asked the guy I found in bed with my wife where he wanted to get it, head, chest or balls. Of course he said if he didn't have his balls what is the use of living. I pointed the .45 automatic at his limply dangling organ and dry fired the gun. This got his dander up and he started to charge me, but I was ready for that. I merely told him the revolver was loaded and that I would kill him if he didn't leave now. Of course he looked at me sort of dumbfounded and said something about not having his clothes. Like I really cared. I told him they were outside waiting for him. What I didn't know was that the neighbor has set up a "welcoming committee" out the back door, a belt line with about twenty or so other service men waiting for him.

I sent my wife outside the front door without her clothes also. There seemed to be a belt line of her own awaiting her arrival also. I found out the stud my wife had been carrying on with had been doing this for at least four days after I left for sea duty. Seems there is an unwritten code of ethics in the service. You just don't screw another service member's wife while he is on deployment, no matter how short or long the deployment is. I also found out the guy spent the next three weeks in the hospital with three cracked ribs, a broken collar bone, a fractured skull and so many bruises on him he looked like a punching bag. How they could see the bruises on him I wouldn't really know since he was coal black. My wife on the other had had spent two weeks in the hospital with bruises all over her body most of which were on her butt and female genitalia and upper legs. Of course I was investigated by the shore patrol (Navy version of MPs) but had nearly all the wives and husbands of the complex swear that I was at a party at the other end of the complex. It seemed I had a pretty good alibi for all of this. You gotta love the Navy Blues.

B_Bailey
B_Bailey
46 Followers
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chytownchytownabout 1 year ago

****Thanks for the read that was a funny ending.

AnonymousAnonymousover 6 years ago
First rule of firearms: there is no such thing as an unloaded gun.

Second rule: NEVER point the weapon at ANYTHING you are not prepared to immediately destroy.

As a retired Army JAG officer, ican't begin to tell you how lucky you are that you and the Airman who loaned you his (apparently Government Issued) .45 weren't both Court-Martialed!

Also, you called your .32 both a pistol and a revolver. It can't be both. From your (correct) statement that one can't tell from looking (presumably from the muzzle end) whether a pistol is loaded or not, the Marine could have noticed a loaded revolver by looking at the cylinder. That is assuming the Marine had good eyesight, the room was well lit, and he had the time and detached reflection to see the front ends of the what are pretty small diameter bullets inside the cylinder. So it would appear you had a revolver.

AnonymousAnonymousabout 7 years ago
Sad storyl

The fact of his skin color doesn't matter but the cheaters deserved all they got. Too bad you did't give us more of the full story- right up to dumping the bitch.

tazz317tazz317about 7 years ago
A NEW MEANING TO BELL BOTTOMS BEING FULL OF NAVY BLUES

the bad part is an isolated incident it is not; TK U MLJ LV NV

B_BaileyB_Baileyabout 7 years agoAuthor
Only the Truth

I know he was black. She was my wife. This is a true story. Reader's Digest form, but in any event, true. It ended badly for both of us. This is a true story. I am not now, nor have I ever been racist. My step-dad was of Mexican decent. He taught me to look past a person's skin color. Look into their eyes and try to see the color of that person's heart. If we bond, we bond, if not, we merely walk away as passing acquaintances. I will have to say that some of my best friends are black. We do not care about each other's skin tone. We care about each other as friends. But thank you for your feed back.

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