english heat story - If Only In My Dreams
Posted: Thu Sep 26, 2024 1:34 am
Second Lieutenant Dan Miller paused for a moment as the distant rumble of gunfire caught his ear. After nearly a year spent patrolling the streets of Baghdad, he recognized it as a mixture of M16 and AK fire. Some other patrol was engaged this Christmas Eve.
Not his concern, he reminded himself. Not that he didn't hope the distant firefight wouldn't turn out to be a win for the good guys, but his attention needed to be focused right here on the two dismounted infantry squads he was leading tonight. The Army had drummed in his mind, from his first ROTC course all the way through Ranger School, that you always kept your mind on your mission, on your troops. To let your attention wander was to fail, or worse, get someone hurt when it could have been prevented.
They continued on their assigned route, moving carefully but without hesitation. They had covered this route in daylight and in the dark before and were familiar with the twists and turns of the ancient streets they followed. They moved openly, another small demonstration that they were the ones in control.
Dan recalled talking to his father, Sergeant Major (Retired) William Miller about his experiences in Vietnam. His dad had been a "Lurp", a member of the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrols that had become the 75th Rangers. One of their missions had been to "Take back the night from Charlie". Here they held the night, and planned on keeping it.
The point man lifted his hand and issued a sharp challenge. Dan hastened forward to meet with the leader of the Iraqi Police unit who's path they had crossed. The past year had seen him learn enough of the local dialect to exchange information with the senior police officer, whose English was on a par with Dan's Arabic. Neither force had seen anything suspicious.
He shook hands with the Iraqi officer and they wished each other good fortune as they parted. Dan admired the Iraqi forces, especially the police, who took hard licks and heavy casualties sometimes but kept right in the thick of the fight.
A quick check of the time and the recognition of the landmarks about them confirmed that it was time to swing back towards the battalion area. Automatically the pace quickened, his own as much as those of his men. He had a letter from Lisa that had been marked "Do not open until Christmas" and by the time they got back it would be well after midnight.
For one moment he allowed his mind to dwell on his wife. Two years of dating had led to their marriage right after their college graduation. It seemed as though they had spent most of the time apart since then. His attendance at the Infantry Officer Basic Course had been without dependants, as certainly Ranger School had been. Then they had finally settled down at their first permanent post when the unit was alerted for deployment overseas.
Many of the personnel were on their second tour, including his platoon sergeant and two of his squad leaders. Dan had followed his father's advice and kept his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open, allowing his experienced NCOs to teach him the real life skills he needed.
And damn it, he was wool gathering again. He firmly thrust any extraneous thoughts out of his mind, and kept his mind on the mission until the patrol was safely back in the cantonment area. After the debriefing he was making sure that weapons were cleaned, turned in and the patrol members all taken care of when he felt a touch on his arm. Dan turned to look at the smiling face of Platoon Sergeant Russell Mentor.
"I got it El-Tee. I've been goofing off all night here anyway. You go take a shower and rest. Sir." The NCO's smile grew broader and he winked. "You done good as always Lieutenant. Your dad will be proud of you. Now let a broken down old non-com handle a little sergeant's business."
They exchanged salutes and Dan headed off for his room. He carefully hung up his gear, then sat down heavily on the rickety chair. He pulled his boots off and wiggled his toes. His eyes strayed to the fat envelope sitting on the desk next to him, surrounded by pictures. He checked his watch. It was nearly 1 AM local time, therefore it WAS Christmas. He decided to postpone his present until he had taken a shower.
Still, he stretched out his hand and ran his fingers over the thick oversize envelope while he studied his pictures. There were three of them. On the left was one of Lisa and he on their honeymoon, standing on the beach. On the right was one just of Lisa. He had taken it camping while they were still dating. She leaned against a wood railing, a breeze whipping her long black hair, and, he always noted, blowing her thin, short dress tight against her body.
Then there was the one in the middle. A lump grew in his throat. It was Lisa smiling into the camera. She was holding up a tiny little hand as though it was waving to him. Other than that, not much could be seen of his son Dan Junior. He was the son born five months after Dan's deployment, the son he had never seen.
Dan headed for the shower. On the way he paused by the paper hung on the back of the door. Picking up the pencil on a string attached to it, he marked off another day on his short-timer's calendar. Less than a month to go before rotating back to "The World" as the older guys termed it.
After showering he stretched out on his bed, propped his head up on the pillow and carefully opened the letter. It held a smaller envelope and two pieces of cardboard. No, he corrected himself, each piece of cardboard was actually a sandwich, holding something inside it. He was sure it was pictures.
Dan laughed. Trust Lisa to know him. She could have sent everything by email, or sent it to him during their on-line chats. She knew that he would probably not be able to resist opening downloaded files early, but he would grit his teeth and refrain from opening her letter until it was time. It didn't make much sense but that's how he was and he loved Lisa for knowing him.
The smaller envelope had a message on the side. "Open me second". He picked up one of the unopened packets. Nope, this one said "Open me last". He slid his fingernail along the seam of the other one, cutting open the tape.
Dan blinked back tears. Dan Junior looked back at him, propped up on some sort of pillow or something. His little boy was grinning at the camera. Lisa had dressed him in a tiny baseball uniform, that of Dan's beloved Chicago Cubs. He carefully propped the picture up next to the lamp beside his bed.
Now the letter. He held the envelope up to his nose for a moment. Now THAT you couldn't get through an email. The definite fragrance of "Shalimar", Lisa's favorite perfume. His closed his eyes for a moment as memories drifted through his mind.
He grinned. That minx. Just like her to do something like this. Just a little scent and a few vagrant thoughts and something was already stirring. He figured he better read the letter before all the blood left his brain on its journey somewhere else.
"Dearest Friend,
"Isn't it funny, sweetheart? I've been reading some early American history lately, and that's how John and Abigail Adams addressed each other in their letters. I thought I’d give it a try and see if it would make you smile. But don’t worry, I have plenty of other ways to charm one out of you."
"Everything is going well here, just as it has been, except that I miss my 'Dearest Friend' so much. But you already know that. I knew what your career plans were even before we got married, and I knew this was bound to happen—and probably will again. I’m an Army wife, and I’ll be here waiting when you step off that plane."
"In the meantime, since you’ve been good and didn’t open this until Christmas, you’ve earned your Christmas gift. Thank goodness I managed to figure out the camera timer! Now, go ahead and open the envelope marked 'Open me last' right NOW."
Dan chuckled to himself. He had been a good boy. He reached for the final envelope and opened it. Inside were several photos, and he immediately understood why Lisa hadn’t sent these online.
The first photo showed Lisa lying on their bed. Candles softly illuminated the room, their effect slightly dimmed by the camera's flash. But the flash did a remarkable job of highlighting Lisa’s tanned skin, contrasting with the delicate white lace negligee she was wearing. She wore a mischievous smile, clearly meant just for him.
The second picture was equally captivating. Lisa was resting on her side, head supported by one hand, and her leg bent with her foot resting on her knee. The lace had fallen away just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of the darkness between her legs. Her other hand was raised, one finger crooked, beckoning him toward the bed.
Dan whistled softly. He could already feel the heat rising within him as he shifted uncomfortably. But it was the third photo that really made his heart race. Lisa was kneeling on the bed, arms outstretched. The negligee had fallen open from her neck all the way down, leaving nothing but her smooth skin visible, though he was convinced he could just make out the outline of her nipples through the lace.
This time, though, the look in her eyes was different. Instead of being purely playful, her expression tugged at his heart. The mix of longing and desire in her body language stirred him deeply, leaving him feeling both aroused and homesick at once. It reminded him how much he was loved and made him yearn for home.
He set the photos aside, his heart pounding, and picked up her letter once more, reading it with a tender smile.
"I hope those had the effect on you that I wanted darling! I giggle when I remember your older brother Seth and his wife telling how she had to smuggle pictures like this to him when he was in the Gulf in the first Iraqi War. So as not to upset the Saudi's sensitivities she wrapped them around a 6 volt battery and put them inside an plastic flashlight. He had to keep them hidden. Well, remember, before you show these off that I'm YOURS and yours only.
My beloved husband, its Christmas. Its a day of rejoicing, saddened for all three of us because we're apart. But when you dream tonight, dream of our tree with the lights blinking on and off and the star on top. Dream of us snuggled in front of the fireplace, wrapped up with our little one cuddled between us, the floor strewn with wrapping paper and ribbons. There will be carols playing on the CD and we'll sing along softly so as not to wake Dan-Dan, asleep after so much excitement.
Dream of you putting him to bed and then finding me on our bed, waiting for you as I am in these pictures, as I will be waiting when you get home. Dream of a long night, as full of passion and love as I can make it.
Lisa gently placed the letter on the table and smiled softly. "I'll take Dan-Dan to Mass today and light a candle for you, like I do every day. Picture that candle in your mind. It will be in the front window, guiding you home.
Merry Christmas, my love. Come back to us safely.
Forever yours,
Lisa."
Dan placed the letter back on the table with care. He slipped on a t-shirt, followed by his uniform pants, and then stepped into his running shoes. Heading to the mess hall, he grabbed a cup of coffee and scanned the room.
Sergeant Mentor was sitting alone, engrossed in his own letter. As Dan approached, the sergeant glanced up.
"Hey, Lieutenant. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Sarge," Dan replied with a smile.
Not his concern, he reminded himself. Not that he didn't hope the distant firefight wouldn't turn out to be a win for the good guys, but his attention needed to be focused right here on the two dismounted infantry squads he was leading tonight. The Army had drummed in his mind, from his first ROTC course all the way through Ranger School, that you always kept your mind on your mission, on your troops. To let your attention wander was to fail, or worse, get someone hurt when it could have been prevented.
They continued on their assigned route, moving carefully but without hesitation. They had covered this route in daylight and in the dark before and were familiar with the twists and turns of the ancient streets they followed. They moved openly, another small demonstration that they were the ones in control.
Dan recalled talking to his father, Sergeant Major (Retired) William Miller about his experiences in Vietnam. His dad had been a "Lurp", a member of the Long Range Reconnaissance Patrols that had become the 75th Rangers. One of their missions had been to "Take back the night from Charlie". Here they held the night, and planned on keeping it.
The point man lifted his hand and issued a sharp challenge. Dan hastened forward to meet with the leader of the Iraqi Police unit who's path they had crossed. The past year had seen him learn enough of the local dialect to exchange information with the senior police officer, whose English was on a par with Dan's Arabic. Neither force had seen anything suspicious.
He shook hands with the Iraqi officer and they wished each other good fortune as they parted. Dan admired the Iraqi forces, especially the police, who took hard licks and heavy casualties sometimes but kept right in the thick of the fight.
A quick check of the time and the recognition of the landmarks about them confirmed that it was time to swing back towards the battalion area. Automatically the pace quickened, his own as much as those of his men. He had a letter from Lisa that had been marked "Do not open until Christmas" and by the time they got back it would be well after midnight.
For one moment he allowed his mind to dwell on his wife. Two years of dating had led to their marriage right after their college graduation. It seemed as though they had spent most of the time apart since then. His attendance at the Infantry Officer Basic Course had been without dependants, as certainly Ranger School had been. Then they had finally settled down at their first permanent post when the unit was alerted for deployment overseas.
Many of the personnel were on their second tour, including his platoon sergeant and two of his squad leaders. Dan had followed his father's advice and kept his mouth shut and his eyes and ears open, allowing his experienced NCOs to teach him the real life skills he needed.
And damn it, he was wool gathering again. He firmly thrust any extraneous thoughts out of his mind, and kept his mind on the mission until the patrol was safely back in the cantonment area. After the debriefing he was making sure that weapons were cleaned, turned in and the patrol members all taken care of when he felt a touch on his arm. Dan turned to look at the smiling face of Platoon Sergeant Russell Mentor.
"I got it El-Tee. I've been goofing off all night here anyway. You go take a shower and rest. Sir." The NCO's smile grew broader and he winked. "You done good as always Lieutenant. Your dad will be proud of you. Now let a broken down old non-com handle a little sergeant's business."
They exchanged salutes and Dan headed off for his room. He carefully hung up his gear, then sat down heavily on the rickety chair. He pulled his boots off and wiggled his toes. His eyes strayed to the fat envelope sitting on the desk next to him, surrounded by pictures. He checked his watch. It was nearly 1 AM local time, therefore it WAS Christmas. He decided to postpone his present until he had taken a shower.
Still, he stretched out his hand and ran his fingers over the thick oversize envelope while he studied his pictures. There were three of them. On the left was one of Lisa and he on their honeymoon, standing on the beach. On the right was one just of Lisa. He had taken it camping while they were still dating. She leaned against a wood railing, a breeze whipping her long black hair, and, he always noted, blowing her thin, short dress tight against her body.
Then there was the one in the middle. A lump grew in his throat. It was Lisa smiling into the camera. She was holding up a tiny little hand as though it was waving to him. Other than that, not much could be seen of his son Dan Junior. He was the son born five months after Dan's deployment, the son he had never seen.
Dan headed for the shower. On the way he paused by the paper hung on the back of the door. Picking up the pencil on a string attached to it, he marked off another day on his short-timer's calendar. Less than a month to go before rotating back to "The World" as the older guys termed it.
After showering he stretched out on his bed, propped his head up on the pillow and carefully opened the letter. It held a smaller envelope and two pieces of cardboard. No, he corrected himself, each piece of cardboard was actually a sandwich, holding something inside it. He was sure it was pictures.
Dan laughed. Trust Lisa to know him. She could have sent everything by email, or sent it to him during their on-line chats. She knew that he would probably not be able to resist opening downloaded files early, but he would grit his teeth and refrain from opening her letter until it was time. It didn't make much sense but that's how he was and he loved Lisa for knowing him.
The smaller envelope had a message on the side. "Open me second". He picked up one of the unopened packets. Nope, this one said "Open me last". He slid his fingernail along the seam of the other one, cutting open the tape.
Dan blinked back tears. Dan Junior looked back at him, propped up on some sort of pillow or something. His little boy was grinning at the camera. Lisa had dressed him in a tiny baseball uniform, that of Dan's beloved Chicago Cubs. He carefully propped the picture up next to the lamp beside his bed.
Now the letter. He held the envelope up to his nose for a moment. Now THAT you couldn't get through an email. The definite fragrance of "Shalimar", Lisa's favorite perfume. His closed his eyes for a moment as memories drifted through his mind.
He grinned. That minx. Just like her to do something like this. Just a little scent and a few vagrant thoughts and something was already stirring. He figured he better read the letter before all the blood left his brain on its journey somewhere else.
"Dearest Friend,
"Isn't it funny, sweetheart? I've been reading some early American history lately, and that's how John and Abigail Adams addressed each other in their letters. I thought I’d give it a try and see if it would make you smile. But don’t worry, I have plenty of other ways to charm one out of you."
"Everything is going well here, just as it has been, except that I miss my 'Dearest Friend' so much. But you already know that. I knew what your career plans were even before we got married, and I knew this was bound to happen—and probably will again. I’m an Army wife, and I’ll be here waiting when you step off that plane."
"In the meantime, since you’ve been good and didn’t open this until Christmas, you’ve earned your Christmas gift. Thank goodness I managed to figure out the camera timer! Now, go ahead and open the envelope marked 'Open me last' right NOW."
Dan chuckled to himself. He had been a good boy. He reached for the final envelope and opened it. Inside were several photos, and he immediately understood why Lisa hadn’t sent these online.
The first photo showed Lisa lying on their bed. Candles softly illuminated the room, their effect slightly dimmed by the camera's flash. But the flash did a remarkable job of highlighting Lisa’s tanned skin, contrasting with the delicate white lace negligee she was wearing. She wore a mischievous smile, clearly meant just for him.
The second picture was equally captivating. Lisa was resting on her side, head supported by one hand, and her leg bent with her foot resting on her knee. The lace had fallen away just enough to reveal a teasing glimpse of the darkness between her legs. Her other hand was raised, one finger crooked, beckoning him toward the bed.
Dan whistled softly. He could already feel the heat rising within him as he shifted uncomfortably. But it was the third photo that really made his heart race. Lisa was kneeling on the bed, arms outstretched. The negligee had fallen open from her neck all the way down, leaving nothing but her smooth skin visible, though he was convinced he could just make out the outline of her nipples through the lace.
This time, though, the look in her eyes was different. Instead of being purely playful, her expression tugged at his heart. The mix of longing and desire in her body language stirred him deeply, leaving him feeling both aroused and homesick at once. It reminded him how much he was loved and made him yearn for home.
He set the photos aside, his heart pounding, and picked up her letter once more, reading it with a tender smile.
"I hope those had the effect on you that I wanted darling! I giggle when I remember your older brother Seth and his wife telling how she had to smuggle pictures like this to him when he was in the Gulf in the first Iraqi War. So as not to upset the Saudi's sensitivities she wrapped them around a 6 volt battery and put them inside an plastic flashlight. He had to keep them hidden. Well, remember, before you show these off that I'm YOURS and yours only.
My beloved husband, its Christmas. Its a day of rejoicing, saddened for all three of us because we're apart. But when you dream tonight, dream of our tree with the lights blinking on and off and the star on top. Dream of us snuggled in front of the fireplace, wrapped up with our little one cuddled between us, the floor strewn with wrapping paper and ribbons. There will be carols playing on the CD and we'll sing along softly so as not to wake Dan-Dan, asleep after so much excitement.
Dream of you putting him to bed and then finding me on our bed, waiting for you as I am in these pictures, as I will be waiting when you get home. Dream of a long night, as full of passion and love as I can make it.
Lisa gently placed the letter on the table and smiled softly. "I'll take Dan-Dan to Mass today and light a candle for you, like I do every day. Picture that candle in your mind. It will be in the front window, guiding you home.
Merry Christmas, my love. Come back to us safely.
Forever yours,
Lisa."
Dan placed the letter back on the table with care. He slipped on a t-shirt, followed by his uniform pants, and then stepped into his running shoes. Heading to the mess hall, he grabbed a cup of coffee and scanned the room.
Sergeant Mentor was sitting alone, engrossed in his own letter. As Dan approached, the sergeant glanced up.
"Hey, Lieutenant. Merry Christmas."
"Merry Christmas, Sarge," Dan replied with a smile.