The Return

My name is Rosalind, "Roz." Tears are slowly rolling down my cheek as I stand on the tarmac at the airfield. A big military transport has just landed and it is bringing my husband, Jeff, and his unit home from a year long deployment in an overseas combat zone.

This should be a moment of happiness and the tears should be those of joy. But that's not the case. I am sick with worry and the tears are those of grief and fear. I am dreading the next few minutes more than I have ever dreaded anything in my life.

The transport has stopped now and the monstrous rear door/ramp begins to drop. In a few moments the troops begin to come down the ramp. As each catches sight of a loved one, they come running, dropping their duffel bag, and gathering the loved one into his or her arms.

Then, above the heads of others waiting, I spot him. I wave and he spots me and comes running. When he can clearly see me through the crowd, he comes to an abrupt stop and stands looking at me. The smile he had a moment ago is gone. It has been replaced with a look of total shock.

After a moment he proceeds toward me; this time walking, not running. When he gets to within fifteen feet of me, he stops again. He doesn't drop his bag, nor does he open his arms for me. He simply exclaims, "Roz! What the hell?"

I walk the few steps to him, crying every step, and saying, "Honey, I'm sorry. Please give me a chance to explain. I know this sounds weird at a time like this, but I do love you. I really do."

I try to hug him but he pushes me away and the moment I had really been dreading has arrived.

He looks at me and then, in a slightly subdued voice to keep others from hearing, he says, "Roz, you have a pretty unconvincing way of expressing your love. I'm checking in to the barracks. I need time to think." Then pointing to my belly he asks. "How long?"

I break into a wave of hysterical tears and tell him I am seven months along. Then I say, "Please Jeff. Can we talk? I need your love and I need your understanding. Please don't walk off without talking to me. Please honey. I need to explain."

He turns and as he walks off he says, "I really think things are self-explanatory. I'll call some time after I have a chance to find myself again. Right now I don't have the slightest idea who in the hell you are."

I scream after him, "Jeff, please don't go. Talk to me." He disappears in the crowd and as I look around, I know most of those around us have sized up the situation and I am now receiving some very nasty looks.

A Master Sergeant, whom I recognized, though I didn't know him, walks by me. I know that he knows who I am and as he passes he says, "Why don't you get out of here? Go join your sister whores outside the main gate."

I fall sobbing hysterically to my knees and the people near me back off. An older lady (over 40 is old to me) steps through the crowd and helps me to my feet, asking if she could help. She is very sympathetic and I thank her for her concern. The crowd around me begins to turn and move away from me.

I know that this lady has probably put the pieces together, yet she asks if she could take me to the coffee shop and she would be happy talk about my troubles. Then she identifies herself as the wife of the chaplain assigned to Jeff's unit.

At first I refuse her offer but then I realize that I need to get it off my chest and that I need some companionship and some help. I had hoped that Jeff would be willing to talk and let me explain, but I also knew that was wishing for a lot. How would I feel, if I were a man returning from a year in a combat zone, to find the love of my life seven months pregnant?

* * * * * *

I accepted her invitation and she excused herself to go let her husband know where she would be. She returned in a moment with her husband and we exchanged introductions. They were Captain (Rabbi) Abraham (Abe) Sternberg and Wynona (Wynn). He immediately excused himself saying he wanted to check-in on some of the men in the base hospital and he would get a ride home by supper time.

This made me feel bad. Wynn had not seen her husband for a year either, and here I was taking her away just as he got home. I said, "Mrs. Sternberg, go with your husband. We can get together some other time. You need to be with your husband now."

She looked at me with a big smile and replied, "Roz, first of all, I am Wynn, not Mrs. Sternberg. Second, Abe would be off to see his soldiers in a few minutes anyway. We'll have our time tonight and it seems that you need help now."

Breaking into tears again I nodded and walked with her to the coffee shop where we found a secluded booth. I didn't know how to start and she took my hand and in a very quiet and sympathetic voice she opened the conversation, "Roz, to get things started, I can pretty well see what the problem is. I assume there is a story behind it and you would probably like to get it out, Right?"

I said, "Yes." I was able to pull up a little smile and I thanked her for her kindness.

She then told me she was here to help in any way she could and that I could tell her whatever I felt I needed to tell her.

Not knowing where to begin, I just blurted out, and the tears started to flow again, "I wanted to tell Jeff that I was raped, but he didn't give me a chance."

She put her hand on mine again and said, "Oh Roz, you poor dear, that's terrible. Please tell me the whole story. I'm assuming that Jeff is your husband."

I apologized for not telling her my husband's name first.

She smiled again and said, "After we talk, I'm sure Abe can at least get your husband, Jeff, to meet and talk to you. Were the offenders caught?"

I told her that they hadn't been caught and that they were suspected of having committed other rapes, both before and after me.

She then asked if I would like to talk about the incident. She said sometimes it helps to pour it out. "Have you talked to anyone about this besides the base police?"

I told her that I had only talked with Karen, my best friend and a couple other wives who had been raped. The other so-called friends had distanced themselves from me once they heard about the rape and the subsequent discovery that I was pregnant.

Wynn almost had tears in her eyes when she said, "You poor thing. You have had to live with this horrible affair almost by yourself since it happened. I've got to talk to Abe about the need for spouses to support each other while their loved ones are away, especially when disasters of any sort occur. I'm sorry, go ahead with your story."

FOLLOWING IS THE ESSENCE OF THE STORY AS BEST I CAN REMEMBER TELLING IT TO HER.

(I should tell the reader here, that throughout my conversation with Wynn, tears were evident to a greater or lesser degree the whole time. So, I'll try not to mention the tears again.)

My friend Karen called on a Saturday night and asked if I would like to go to the movie. It was a good one and I was happy to accept. Her husband was out of town and we decided to splurge and have dinner out as well. She picked me up and we had a wonderful evening together.

We went to the late movie and it was a little before midnight when Karen dropped me off. She waited as I got to the door, unlocked it, and pushed it open; giving Karen a wave as I stepped in. She waved back and drove off.

I had turned and was shutting the door when I was slammed to the wall and knocked to the floor as four men wearing ski masks shoved the door open, picked me up, and then closed and locked the door. I started to scream when one of them put his hand over my mouth. I bit him hard enough to draw blood and for that I received a violent slap on the face and was told if I tried that again, I wouldn't have enough teeth left for another bite.

I knew that I wasn't going to stop them, but I also knew that I wasn't going to be a submissive little puff. They started moving me toward the bedroom and I had the chance to lift my knee with all the force I could muster into the groin of one of them. He went to the floor howling. One of them doubled his fist and hit me on the jaw.

I didn't remember anything for the next several minutes. When I regained my consciousness I found that I had been tied, naked and spread-eagle, to our bed. The guy that I had kneed was still holding his groin and talking about what he was going to do to me when his buddies got through. I can tell you now that he didn't fuck me, he was too sore.

With that the other three went to work. One mounted me and another put his cock in my face. I opened my mouth and bit down as hard as I could. I was hit with a fist again with a warning that if I bit anyone again, I would never see another sunrise. The blow to my face hurt terribly and later, at the hospital, I was told that my jaw had been fractured. These two little scars on either side of my jaw were left by the device they attached to brace my jaw.

After the last blow, I submitted, by that I mean that I just went limp. Unfortunately, the one who I bit was not out of commission for long and I was really getting frightened as I kept overhearing what he and the one whom I kneed were planning once the sex ended.

Shortly after the ordeal started, I heard the phone ring. It rang several times and then stopped. Then it started again and kept ringing until the one whom I had kneed, jerked it out of the wall

Three of them had me twice each. Next they untied my feet so that they could do a double penetration. It was during the double penetration when the blue and red lights started flashing on the bedroom wall and the ordeal was ended.

Karen had not seen anything but after she got home she told me later that she had an uneasy feeling and tried to call about fifteen minutes after she got home. She said when she didn't get an answer after a few rings she hung up and dialed again, thinking she may have misdialed the first time. It rang several times the second time and then it went dead. It took about five or ten minutes for the phone company to affirm that the phone was out of order. She called the MPs and asked them to check on me.

Of course when the lights started flashing, the four of them made a dash out the back door. By the time the MPs waited for someone to answer the front door and then had found the back door standing open, the four culprits were long gone.

I heard a voice call out to see if there was anyone here. I could barely summon enough strength to reply, "In here." I was still lying naked on my back with both wrist tied when the first MP entered. I was relieved to see that it was a female and as soon as she saw the situation she called her partner, a male, and told him to call for backup and to stay out of the bedroom for a minute.

When I was freed, I had the MP call Karen and she came right over. She came to me an immediately determined that I was hurt. She really got pissed when she discovered that I was hurt and nothing had been done to take care of me. The MPs were too engrossed in conducting an investigation and asking me questions. The MP was going to call an ambulance but Karen blew her lid. She said, "Get out of my way. You should have had an ambulance here twenty minutes ago. I'm taking her to the hospital right now." The female MP accompanied us.

That's the essence of the event and what I told Wynn.

* * * * * *

Wynn sat quietly for a moment and then asked, "Besides Karen, you have had to carry this alone?"

I shook my head. There are three others who have helped, they too were raped, and probably by the same men. However, there are only two left. Thelma and her husband were transferred to Hawaii several months ago. Fortunately, none of them got pregnant.

Then she followed softly, "Roz, You know that under the law you could have had an abortion don't you? Why didn't you?"

I told her that I was strongly opposed to abortions. I also knew there were many women, and men for that matter, that wanted children and couldn't have them. I could see no reason for not carrying this child to term and then giving it up for adoption.

I said, "I have been tested for any STDs and am free. I'm sure the men were military and therefore I doubted that there would be any undesirable defects and thus the child should be normal. I don't know the sex of the child, and I don't want to know. I have already made arrangements for giving the child up. I will never see it nor perform any motherly functions."

"In short, I have come to terms with the thought that for now I am strictly a baby making machine for this child. When it is born, it will be removed from the machine and delivered to the appropriate destination."

She sat silently before she finally spoke. "My dear, you are truly a child of God. You cannot suffer for this and Jeff IS going to be with you and help you."

I was feeling much better and was ready to depart when I doubled up in another major crying jag.

Wynn came around to me and asked what was wrong?

Through the tears I said, "Wynn, please sit down again. There is something else that has gnawed at me ever since that night. I am so ashamed and I don't know what to do. I'm even so ashamed that I don't know if I can tell it."

She sat down and first asked if I would like something more to drink? I accepted the offer and used the time until the drinks arrived to get my composure back.

She said, "I'm listening whenever you are ready dear."

I started by telling her that I was sorry for some of the words I had been using and that I was going to use now, but I just didn't know how to tell this any other way. She told me she understood, that she had heard them all before and that I needed to get it out.

So I started. "Well, as I told you, I bit one of them on his cock. And, by-the-way, if I saw him again, I would recognize him. He had a terrible looking scar where one would be if his appendix had been removed. When he moved away, the next man came and he had a very large cock. It hurt terribly when he forced me to take it in my mouth. Of course at that time I didn't know my jaw was broken.

"But, after a few minutes the pain seemed to go away and my mouth felt a little numb. And, by this time the man fucking me was really hammering away.

"And, Oh Wynn," I sobbed as I told her the next part, the part that has been haunting me ever since.

"After a few minutes, both men dumped their semen. They rested a minute and then switched positions. The one with the big cock entered my pussy. It was then that my hormones kicked in and my feelings changed. "Oh Wynn, his big cock in me felt so good and I began to respond. I was getting hot and before long, I was encouraging them. I wanted them to fuck me.

"I know it was wrong, but I just couldn't help it. I wanted them to use me, I was even beginning to feel sorry that I had hurt the other guy and I couldn't enjoy him. I don't know what came over me and I have felt so guilty and dirty and bad ever since for feeling that way.

"Also, this was the first time I had a cock in my ass. It hurt some at first, but then it started to feel good. At the end, I had the big cock in my pussy, one in my ass, and one in my mouth. I had two heavy orgasms before the MPs arrived."

"And Wynn, Oh God this is terrible, when the MP came in, she thought I was crying because I had been raped. I wasn't crying because I was being raped. I was crying because they hadn't finished the job. I wanted to feel their hot semen being pumping into me, but they didn't get a chance, they just ran.

"Oh Wynn, what's wrong with me? Why did I enjoy it instead of being disgusted and repulsed?"

With that, I was completely out of control of my emotions and it took Wynn almost thirty minutes to get me back to something like normal. Thank goodness the coffee shop was not crowded and I don't think anyone there knew. I found out that Wynn had told the waitress to leave us and that she would wave if we needed anything.

When we left, I left my car and Wynn took me home. On the way home she tried to comfort me by telling me that the human body has its limitations and when the limits are exceeded, strange things tend to happen. I understood what she said, but it wasn't much comfort.

I entered the house hoping that just maybe Jeff had decided to come home. He hadn't. I was grateful for Wynn, but I was so distraught at the idea of spending the night alone that I called Karen and asked her to stay with me.

The next day I stayed by the phone all morning, waiting for Jeff to call. Shortly after noon, the phone rang and I dashed to pick it up. I was disappointed when a male voice responded, "Roz, this is Captain Sternberg."

My mental reaction was, "Who in the hell is Captain Sternberg and what in the hell does he want?"

Then I realized it was Wynn's husband, Abe, the Rabbi. My heart jumped as I greeted him after a moment and apologized for not recognizing him.

He told me that he had left Jeff just a few minutes ago and that I should get a call very soon. I wanted to cry and I thanked him profusely. He told me that Jeff had received quite a shock seeing me pregnant and that it was going to take understanding on both of our parts to straighten things out. In our short conversation, it was evident that Wynn had not told him about my guilty feelings and reason for shame. I was relieved.

* * * * * *

I won't bore you with the details. Jeff came home that afternoon. We talked a lot for several days and he finally understood my reason for going to term and my reason for not wanting to tell him about it before he got home. He didn't totally agree with my decisions but he understood.

Eight months went by. I had delivered the baby and it was taken for adoption. My baby machine days were over. Jeff and I pretty much put our lives together again and we are talking about starting a family.

However, I can't drop my memories, good or bad, of the rape. There have been three rapes since mine and there have been several in town. Jeff came home yesterday looking grim as he came in and I asked if there was something bothering him. At first he tried to pass it off as just a tough day. But, after dinner he took me in his arms and said, "Roz honey, I hate to do this, but I need you to look at a photograph and tell me if you recognize it."

I was stunned. What kind of photograph would he have that he would need to apologize for asking me to look at and tell him if I recognized it? He handed me the photo. It was obviously a blow-up depicting the lower torso of a man. It was kind of fuzzy and not really clear. Then I gasped. I was looking at a very ugly scar. No doubt about it, fuzzy or not, it was the scar that I had seen the night of the rape.

I told Jeff that I would never forget that scar and I broke down into tears as recollections of that experience flooded my brain again. I immediately asked where the photo had come from and if he knew who the scar belonged to.

He told me that the photo had come from the husband of the wife who had been raped four weeks ago. They had a security camera but this was the only thing of significance that could be seen. He told me that he did not know who it belonged to but that he was sure he would know very soon.

It was now that I found out that Jeff had been meeting with the husbands of the other rape victims in an attempt to do what the MPs had not been able to do. I became frightened and asked him what they were going to do. He told me not to worry. When the time came, things would be handled. This did not comfort me. I didn't want my husband winding up in prison for taking revenge.

I asked, "Are you going to give the photo to the MPs?" He told me they weren't, that they had little confidence in them. "All these rapes, and not one suspect, not one person taken in for questioning doesn't give one much reason to have any confidence in them."