July  1950

Camp McCoy, Wisconsin

Tedium & Realization  

Mitchell marched a four-hour late night watch, and had KP once again, fortunately not with Skorupski, but unfortunately it was on the day he was to fire his sidearm, so he never had the opportunity to shoot his beloved .45, or for that matter anything else, because the troops were not given liberty, so neither boy had any idea of how potent they may have been to the girls of Sparta, Wisconsin, who somehow lived through the ordeal of never meeting either of them.

By the time the two-week period at Camp McCoy was finished, Norman and Mitchell had had more than their share of playing soldier, and the thought of Korea and what it really meant had frighteningly begun to sink in.

July 22, 1950

“Fall in! Tench hup! Dress right dress! Tench hup! Right-shoulder arms! Left face! Forward harch!”

The entire command was to pass in review, then board the trucks that would take them to the trains that would return them to their respective armories.

“Hup-two-three-four! Hup-two-three-four!”

The command, accompanied by the stirring music of the Camp McCoy band, marched the perimeter of the parade ground.

Passing the commanding officer, camp officers and their guests in the review stand… “Eyes, right!” heads and eyes snapped to the right.

After the second progression around the parade ground, the command broke into individual companies that formed row upon row of helmeted, armed soldiers.

Speaking through an echoing microphone, “Men,” the commanding officer said, “the Thirty-Third Division is being activated!”

There was a rustle and stirring within the ranks.

“Quiet down!” the platoon sergeants whispered from the corners of their mouths. “Take it easy! You’re at parade rest! Shut up!”

Within seconds all eyes and ears strained forward.

“You will return to your homes to put your affairs in order,” the commanding officer continued, “and will be issued further orders within the next thirty days.” Hesitating a moment, “…It has been brought to my attention that a goodly number of men in the Thirty-third are underage.”

Leaning forward, Norman and Mitchell glanced at each other.

“By directive of the Commander, U.S. Army, Washington, D.C., any enlisted man under the age of seventeen years must step forward and be honorably separated, unless otherwise directed by his commanding officer, from this now-activated military force.” Pausing once again, he looked from one end of this standing army to the other. “Your company officers will take your names upon arrival at your regimental armory and the processing of your discharges will commence immediately.” Pausing once again, his eyes again swept the entire complement. “To the rest of you men, may God bless you and return you safely to your families.” Snapping to attention, he saluted.

“Tench-hup! Present arms!” The salute was returned.

Dropping his arm to his side, doing a smart about face, the commanding officer returned to his seat.

After ten, three-hour weekly drill sessions and one, two-week summer training camp, Mitchell Lipensky and Norman Parminter were honorably discharged from the U.S. Army, and in the future, for the record, Norman and Mitchell were considered to be veterans of the Korean War.

Norman was one month past his sixteenth birthday and Mitchell approximately one month from his sixteenth birthday.

August 18, 1950

Union Pier, Michigan

Ina

“Yeah she does! She’s got great tits! But Ina? Ina Dorfmann!”

Pulling the raft ashore, they were sitting near water’s edge with their backs resting against the warm, rubberized canvas.

“Come on, Norm,” Mitchell argued, “she ain’t all that bad.”

“Jesus, you really are hard-up. You know what this is, don’t you? It’s a, uh, what’ch’a’ma’call…” thinking, “a compulsion.”

“Okay, sure, call it whatever you want, but don’t it bother you?”

“That I ain’t been laid? Sure it does, you know it does. But when I do, it sure as hell ain’t gonna be with a broad like Ina Dorfmann.”

Two girls walking the shoreline approached from the north.

As the girls came closer, as though on cue, the boys stopped talking and, as boys do, appraised them.

One girl, the blonde, was short and dumpy and beyond all consideration. The other, a familiar, deeply-tanned, pretty brunette, was tall and skinny, and if not for her knobby knees, would have no shape at all.

Evaluating both girls negatively, Norman and Mitchell waited for the girls to pass before continuing their conversation regarding the fucking of one Ina Dorfmann.

As they passed, the dark girl looked at the boys over her shoulder, took a few more steps, then, stopping turning back, “Mitchie, Normie, hi!” she said to both boys, but standing directly before him, was obviously speaking to Mitchell only.

Taking a moment to remember the girl’s name, Mitchell recognized her as that kid from last summer, and even if she was pretty, skinny as she was, she most certainly was not his type.

Besides, if she was too young for him last summer she was too young for him this summer, especially now that he was a “Korean War vet.” Besides, at the moment he had more important things on his mind. So, “Yeah, hi,” he said, rudely bringing his attention back to Norman, who, remembering the girl, but not her name, “Hi,” nodded his head at her.

Looking as though she wanted to say something, but very well recognizing the signs of dismissal, frowning, “Drop dead, you big jerk!” she said, and with an angry toss of her stubby ponytail, turning away, the girl continued the walk with her friend.

“She’s that girl from last summer, Isn’t she?”

Watching their wide and narrow backsides, “Yeah,” Mitchell said.

“So, you gonna do it?”

Still watching the thinner of the backsides, sensing a sudden, soft pang of loneliness in the pit of his stomach, taking a moment for him to fathom Norman’s question, “Yeah,” he said, instantly forgetting the girl. “I’m babysitting at Doc Liebman’s tonight, and if I can find Ina, I’m going to ask if she’d like to keep me company.”

“The Liebmans won’t mind you having a girl there?”

Rationalizing, “You’ve been there with me.”

“Yeah, Mitch, but I’m a guy. Do you really think they won’t mind if you have a girl there when you babysit?”

“Nah,” stretching the truth a bit. “I’ve asked if they mind if I have a friend to keep me company, and they said so long as I listen for and pay attention to Jerry they don’t care.”

He never asked, though, if the friend could be a girl.

                                                                                     **** 

Their parents able to rent the same cottages they had the year before, having their accumulated weekly and training camp pay, the boys thought they’d have enough money to last through the summer, then, in the fall, when school started, when they entered their junior year, they would look for part-time jobs.

                                                                                    **** 

Standing above her, “Ina, hi!” his back was to the sun.

Turning from her stomach onto her back, shading her eyes from the sun, “Oh!” Having spoken to him only in passing, feeling flattered that a boy as handsome and standoffish as Mitchell Lipensky, the Mitchell Lipensky, would even stop by to say hello, “Hi, Mitchie!” Sitting up quickly, moving to the side of her blanket, making room for him, “Sit down, why don’t’j’ya.”

“Yeah, thanks.” Sitting, the first time this close, he looked at her.

Already sixteen, Ina was almost six months older than Mitchell. She had peroxide-bleached, streaky blonde hair. Her face was round with small, dark-brown eyes, a turned-up nose with red-tinged, scaly nostrils due to blowing and rubbing because of allergies. Her forehead, chin and chest were dotted with pin-head-size sun blisters and, though not fat, Ina was fleshy with thick thighs, a somewhat flabby stomach and…