Cassandra

"Dear God, if this is your will, then so be it, but I beg you, spare this boy's life so he can see his family again. Don't let him die among strangers, Heavenly Father, don't take him today, please. I ask this in the name of Jesus Christ, Amen."

But she could smell the death in his gasping breaths, the air rattling in and out of his bullet riddled lungs, and she knew that their's was a losing fight, his life was fast slipping out of her hands. The only thing keeping him alive was his fighting grit, he was a Ranger, after all, and a Ranger never just rolls over and dies. They fight to the last, they fight with their last ounce of strength, God in Heaven only knew how many times Rangers had proved their mettle on other battlegrounds. But this, this was the final field as he fought for his life, this battle was the final battle, the fight that none of us win. This was the battle that we all, sooner or later, fight knowing that we will ultimately lose.

She stood numbly by as the medics undid the soldier's stretcher and passed it down to the waiting "meat wagon." She looked at the pilot, waiting for his hand to give her the circling in the air "ready to go" signal, but instead, she heard the engine winding down and the co-pilot undoing his four-ways. She saw the bright red on his sleeve as he kicked the door open and fell out.

He was hit. He was losing blood. Instinctively she jumped down and ripped open his sleeve. Slapping a pressure bandage on it and checking his pulse. He grinned up at her.

"It's only a flesh wound, Ma," he whispered, his eyes rolling back in his head, the grin a faint ghost on his face. He'd lost some blood, his pulse was weak and thready, but he'd live. The Angel of Mercy was his medic.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

His father had seen him first from the top of his ladder on the south wall of the house. He then, very carefully and deliberately, capped the paint can, and carefully climbed down the ladder, he didn't want no accidents to happen. Not with Charlie home. When he got to the ground, he ran for all he was worth yelling at Charlie's momma that Charlie was home. The first one out was Jesse, his baby sister, a fast growing fifteen years old, and Cassandra's best friend, next came his Momma, then Jonathon, a strapping healthy sixteen year old and about twice as big as his big brother Charlie.

Daddy grabbed Charlie around the waist and jumped up and down, both of them laughing, giddy with his homecoming, Cassandra stood aside smiling hugely. Jonathon and Jesse joined in and it was only when Momma got there and made them stop that the carnival ride ended.

Charlie asked after Patrick, Jonathon's twin, and Daddy said that Pat had gotten a small job in town and couldn't get the time off because he'd only been there a short while. Momma said that she had a couple of deep dish apple pies in the oven, plus his favorite, a blueberry pecan pie, she smiled, just for you and Cassandra.

Cassandra smiled hugely, and said that she never turned down a piece of any of Momma's pies and touched her hand. Momma turned her hand over and grasped Cassandra's smiling into her eyes, but daddy, as usual, let his mouth do the thinking, and said -- "I bet not." Both Momma and Charlie turned on him. Benjamin! She snapped at him. Dad! Charlie gritted sharply.

He looked up and asked what? His face suddenly reddening as he realized his error, staring apologetically as the pink spread down Cassandra's face. Then with his face all red, he stammered an apology to her. Cassandra smiled and pooh-poohed it as if it was nothing, but Charlie understood the pain that the little goof caused. He took her other hand, the one that Momma didn't have and kissed it, mouthing the words "I love you," into her eyes. The pain of Daddy's mouth quickly cleared from her face as she smiled brightly back at him, took his one hand in both of hers and mouthed the same words back to him. Daddy, clumsily patted her shoulder without saying anything else.

It was a good week-end, marred only slightly by Patrick's bad mood over having to work while Charlie was home. However, Charlie, working a little magic, told him that nobody wants a slacker and, as Patrick tried to say that he was no slacker, Charlie interrupted saying that even giving the impression that you might be was just as bad. Patrick reluctantly agreed and said that at least he still had the afternoons and evenings. Charlie laughed and said "that-a-boy, show no mercy." They both laughed and the slow-witted Jon, asked if that was a Ranger saying. They laughed again and Charlie nodded yes and threw a half-nelson on him hugging his neck.

Charlie had gotten home on that Saturday and managed to sneak in a nap before cleaning up. Cassandra had stayed with his momma as he napped, and had only gone home to get a quick shower and a change of clothes. They'd had a supper, ate the blueberry pecan pie, Cassandra feeding it to him fondly, and afterwards went to a drive-in movie in daddy's '58 Buick. They climbed in the back seat to watch, but all Cassandra remembered of the movie was the gray of the Buick's head-liner, because that night, in the back seat, Cassandra sweetly, and a little painfully, gave him her virginity. They spent that Sunday morning, cleaning the little bit of blood off the vinyl car seat. Charlie cleaned off a spot and asked her to look at it to see if it was clean enough. She'd couldn't bring herself to answer, instead, she turned red and giggled. She looked so sweet and innocent in her red face that Charlie couldn't help but take her in his arms again. They almost got carried away, the urgency of their need, and knowing that he only had a week with her, brought them to hold each other solemnly, finding temporary comfort in each other's lips and arms.

However, that Sunday after church, they decided to walk home, taking the shortcut behind the church. On the way through the cool trees of the church's meditation park, however, they lingered just a little too long, soon finding and baptizing, with their love, an empty patch of soft grass. Afterward they cuddled each other, whispering their love for each other which led to a second round of lovemaking, slower and gentler and cuddling again each other. As they lay there semi-naked, they heard voices and realized that they'd already been there too long. Quickly adjusting their clothing they arose from their hidden bower. Charlie helped Cassandra straighten her skirt, but when they cast around looking for her panties, they were nowhere to be found. Several months after Charlie was in Viet Nam, Cassandra found them hanging on one of the higher branches of one of the trees and almost completely out of sight. At any rate, Charlie handed her his clean handkerchief and she quickly cleaned herself with it. They never saw the owners of the voices and Cassandra said they must've been angels. Charlie grinned and said envious angels. Cassandra punched him on the shoulder, scolding him with a "Charlie" but she smiled back goofily all the same.

Back at home, they sat with mom and dad, on the front porch, Patrick gave Cassandra his chair but Charlie had her on his lap and he wasn't about to let her up, just yet. Patrick went in the house for another chair anyway. Dad said that he was going to be pleased to make Cassandra a family chair. Knowing his sense of humor and leaning back against Charlie, she assayed a joke at her own expense: "be sure to make it extra solid," she smiled patting his arm, he laughed himself out of his chair, as she finished, "I'd hate to drop into it and have it give way."

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Toward the middle of 1967, word filtered down to the line grunts that our spy network was getting information that Charlie was planning a surge. Nobody knew when or where. The general feel on the ground was somewhere after the new year, possibly during the lunar new year during the Tet. About all they seemed to know was that the Viet Cong were planning for local militias to rise and throw off the yoke of their yankee oppressors. So probing patrols were being sent into VC infested areas. The soldier found himself in the middle of one such patrol carrying an M-60 light machine gun, a misnomer, he fussed to himself, but it was a weapon he had learned to use to great effect.

On that particular day the soldier's sergeant, a seasoned veteran of many fire-fights and all of nineteen years old, led and he followed as part of it, a six-man recon patrol, probing along the Nui Cau in advance of elements of the 25th Infantry. This particular patrol was only one of many, sent out by Special Operations Group (SOG) Intelligence and paralleling the regular infantry patrols, gathering information and reporting it directly back to SOG. It was the patrol that found it's quarry first.

The stumbled on a small patrol first and withdrew under engagement. As they fell back, the soldier heard the unmistakable sound of ChiCom heavy machine guns, and knew that they were in deep shit. As heavy machine gun rounds bounced around them, the patrol's radio-man didn't wait for his NCO to direct him, he immediately called for help. The soldier quickly set up his own, almost incompetently small, machine gun and began sending rounds down-range.

"X-Ray, this is Ranger five-four, request immediate suppression vicinity x-ray tango two seven niner six zero eight, over," the radio man suddenly dropped the hand set as three fifty-caliber rounds punched through his head and shoulders.

"MOTHER-FUCKER!!" screamed the medic as he rolled over to the radio man. The soldier already knew, from the heavy caliber gun, that they were facing a far larger force than had been anticipated.

"Roger, roger, Ranger five-four, ranging fire vicinity x-ray tango two seven niner six zero eight, firing for adjustment, over."

"Fuck adjustment!" their buck-sergeant screamed into the handset, "we got them crawling up our ass! Lay it in heavy!"

Several more fifty-cal rounds impacted around him and perforated the radio. The smaller caliber rounds, no less deadly, popped around their ears as they tried to become one with the earth. The soldier kept firing, hiding behind the impossibly small silhouette of his machine gun. His ammo loader was well-hidden behind a large Thitka, it was almost as good as iron-wood for cover. The sergeant rolled over to the soldier, a heavy caliber and several smaller caliber rounds finding him as he rolled. He died as he laid his hand on him, his reason for reaching him dying with him. The soldier pushed his sergeant's body over as he ripped out a jammed ammunition belt and re-loaded.

The first round to impact the soldier's body ripped a long gash across his back from his shoulder blade to his buttocks. The heavy four-deuce mortar rounds finally began coming in, whistling overhead as he was hit with another small arms round through the back muscle. He didn't feel it at first, it was only a quick jerk on his back. He threw the machine gun across his shoulders and grabbed his sergeant's body to drag him back.

"Pull back!" he screamed his bullhorn voice cutting through the confused and noisy cacophony of the firefight.

He suddenly heard the 3rd Platoon crashing up to them. He turned and glanced quickly toward them, watching the deadly hail cutting them down. Their lieutenant, the platoon's leader, was down on his belly, looking wildly around, his arm -- completely unnoticed in his shock and confusion -- a shredded and bloody mess. The soldier dropped onto his belly, cursing the stupidity and false heroics of butter-bar lieutenants as he set up his gun again. He continued cursing at the stupidity of officers and this particular lieutenant, all the while knowing that it was up to him to cover this man's asininity. His assistant gunner, no longer behind any cover, took a round through the throat that ripped out his carotid artery and Adam's apple, his blood spraying out around his hand, dying voicelessly. Several more rounds impacted his jerking body as he flopped around.

The soldier felt another round impact on his opposite shoulder as he opened up with his machine gun, laying fire where he believed the heavy caliber rounds were coming from. He didn't know how much good he was doing, but the heavy rounds ceased for a space. He rolled onto his right shoulder to set another belt of ammo into the M-60 and felt several soft impacts searing his chest, making it hard to breathe. The rest of 3rd platoon began to take cover around him, using his gun as their anchor. He heard one of the 3rd platoon's fifty caliber machine guns start up, it's heavy thump-thump-thumping sounding like music to his ears as he lowered his tired head into the ground.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

They had taken a walk that Sunday night just after they'd had dinner, a "snack" of momma's cold fried chicken, homemade cole slaw, re-heated baked potatoes, lemonade and of course, ice cold Cokes. Momma just couldn't live without at least three six ounce bottles a day. As the evening dwindled into the twilight, they moved over to the porch swing, cuddling and touching, trying to get their fill of each other before he had to leave. They were still sitting there at about eleven when Daddy came out and caught them necking. He circumspectly said that he and momma were going to bed and he'd close Jon and Pat's door, too, so they probably wouldn't know if anybody walked down the hallway to Charlie's room. He also added that they were getting married, after all, and they only had a little time together. However, Charlie was to make sure that nobody snuck up there -- at least not before everybody was all snug in their beds. Charlie smiled gratefully at his dad and Cassandra again reddened prettily. Sometime around 1am, Charlie leaned over and looked down into Cassandra's eyes. She looked up liquidly into his and nodded, smiling nervously, but agreeing. She was learning to assert her needs, but she would never get a chance to practice it with Charlie. They walked up to his room and Cassandra turned red as she stood and stared at Charlie's bed, a small twin.

"You're my wife," he pulled her into his arms, "the piece of paper tomorrow will only legitimize it," he snuggled his scratchy chin into her neck, nibbling the soft, sweet flesh of it.

She giggled and hunched her neck, reaching back to undo her zipper. Charlie's hands covered hers and took the zipper tab and pulled it down, sliding the dress off her soft, round shoulders. Cassandra slipped her arms out of the sleeves and reached up to his face pulling it down to her lips. They had this moment. They might never have another, but they had this moment and she wanted it to be as perfect as it could be. He undressed her slowly, kissing and adoring every inch of her that he could reach with his hands and his lips.

She undid his belt buckle and let his trousers drop off his hips. He pulled his shirt off and she pushed his GI boxers down, surprised that his cock was as large as it was. She'd only seen her daddy's once and that was accidental, after that he'd made sure he locked the bathroom door, and Charlie's looked about that size. She wasn't sure if she should touch it, much as she wanted to. Charlie stepped out of his shoes and she knelt to pull his socks off, his cock waving in her face.

"Can I touch it?" she asked hesitantly.

"It's yours baby, touch it, bite it, shake hands with it, whatever you want to do with it, it's yours," he grinned down as she blushed again, "I can only use it with your permission on you."

She reached up for it and felt it leaking it's lubricating fluid, the "pre-cum" that helps ease first sexual contact.

"Is it pee?" she asked innocently.

"No, baby, it's getting ready for you," he let her fondle it and caress it.

"It's so silky and so stiff," she murmured.

"Ready for bed?" he asked huskily.

Cassandra nodded wordlessly her eyes still on his out-thrust member. Charlie took her hands and helped her to her feet and pulled her white cotton panties down, she had kicked off her shoes downstairs and they were still on the porch, and reached behind her and undid her bra. Her large breasts dropped out, heavy and pendulous, all peaches and cream with pink areolas and strawberry-pink nipples.

Cassandra looked down at her bare breasts, surprised at her flesh's reaction to his eyes. Surprised that she was standing nude in front of someone other than her mother, a man at that, and didn't feel embarrassed. But then why should she be embarrassed, he wasn't just a man, he was HER man, HER HUSBAND man. Now, wait, that didn't sound quite right -- but what the heck, it described it right. She looked wonderingly up into his eyes as he waited patiently for her.

When she looked up at him, he slid his hand up and cupped her nipples and what he could of her soft pillowy breasts, in his hands. She brought her hands up and caressed the backs of his, staring down at them as they caressed her breasts so wonderfully, they felt so good - so strong, so - so - so - she gave up trying to think, she just let the good feelings take her over.

Charlie pulled her to him, walked her the two steps backward to his bed and sat her on the edge, slowly toppling with her onto it. She smiled as he ran his fingers down from her breasts and caressed her downy-soft pussy hair and into her wetly ready core. The feelings surprised her. It wasn't like the night before last or yesterday by the church, it was different, but it was the same. Their love-making the previous two days had been rushed, tinged with the hurry of possible discovery, but now, there was no rush. They had all night and it felt so impossibly more wonderful. Charlie rolled on top of her, there really wasn't that much room on that tiny twin bed, and slipped his cock into her slippery wetness.

She gasped and cried out in the sudden heat of it as she felt his warm cock enter her, filling her innermost being so wonderfully. Charlie, for his part, wasn't in any rush either, as he set a slow luxurious rhythm. Cassandra was lost in a delirious sea of pleasure and lust. She ran her hands down his flanks to his ass-cheeks and took one in each hand, pulling him hard into her without realizing that she did. Charlie took his time, not wanting to rush, wanting to savor the soft sweetness of her pussy as long as he could.

Cassandra was less hesitant and a few seconds later she came, bathing his cock in her creamy cum-honey. Her eyes fluttered and she gasped and held he breath tightly as she came. She gave a low tremulous moan as she took another breath, throwing her arms around Charlie's neck and pulling her head tightly into his neck. Charlie continued to rock into her, gently ad slowly, still savoring her gripping softness, the smooth texture of her hips in his hands, the slight flabbiness of her belly under his.

"Oh, my God, Charlie," she moaned again.

Charlie's lips continued to nibble on her soft shoulder, her gentle throat, her lovely ears.

"You're my baby," he whispered as he got to her ears, "my lover," he kissed her throat, "my darling wife."

"Oh, yes, Charlie," she murmured, happy for the moment, "forever and ever."

"Forever and ever," he agreed.

The next morning Cassandra and Charlie tried to sneak out of his room early, but Patrick came out at the same time, on his way to work, and smiled broadly on seeing them.

"I see nothing," he grinned.

Charlie chuckled and slapped him on the shoulder and Cassandra blushed even deeper than before.

"Is it me, or is her complexion changing to red," Patrick joked.

This time Cassandra punched his arm and took a wild swing at him that he easily ducked. Charlie grabbed Cassandra by the waist and hollered, "Run Pat, I'll hold her."

Charlie took advantage of his hold on her, turning her around for a snuggle and a kiss. Pat looked over his shoulder as he took a running step and stopped.