Tunnel Rat 'Robin'

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It was hot. It was always hot.
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Tunnel Rat 'Robin'

It was hot. It was always hot. It was humid as always, and the bugs were fierce. He had welts on welts, and yet this was his preferred attire when crawling in the tunnels looking for the gooks. He was always at risk of being shot at close range, because the tunnels were so pitch black and hiding places and booby traps and bungie pits were literally everywhere. There were sand traps and water hazards in nearly all of the tunnels.

After climbing down into the tunnels he would arrange his clothes in a neat pile at the foot of the rat hole (the tunnel entrance) so his fellow Army troopers would know where he started in case he didn't return. Most tunnel rats were super sharp eyed, but there was still an overall 33% fatality, wounded, or captured while in the tunnel. This statistic is much higher than the regular mortality percentage for the Vietnam War.

While in the tunnel, he wore knee pads from his days at 'Home' working construction as a flooring installer. He also wore two red lens headlamps just above each of his knees strapped to his thighs. He kept these as spares, and for when he wanted to appear like more GI's than just himself were in the tunnel.

He carried another one on his pistol wrist and a knife in the other hand. He had charcoal smeared all over himself, but all it did was cause black streaks and chocolate streaks where it washed away from his skin. He was relatively short and thin, but had been through Green Beret training and promoted three times as a tunnel rat who had brought hundreds of enemy soldiers in as prisoners.

His Commanding Officer didn't like him capturing so many Viet Cong, but he was of the mind that alive prisoners would not fuck with his head as much as just killing them all with their own weapons would have.

Years later when dealing with PTSD at the Raymond G. Murphy Veterans Hospital in Albuquerque he was singularly proud of his stance on taking prisoners. In fact he thought his reoccurring decision to not kill himself each and everyday was a result of not killing all those men he easily could have.

He said to one of the PTSD therapy groups, "If living as prisoners was their punishment, then PTSD must be mine for capturing them".

Sounds silly or maybe like crazy logic, but he was still alive and productive, so he would just live on as he was. He struggled with so many symptoms that he had resigned himself to all of them and adapted a life to fit the outrage and anger, disappointments, and memories. He eventually was wounded three times and forced to go home after three years 'in country'. Butt, he didn't stay away.

He had first rotated back "to the world" after 12 months 'in country' and was honorably discharged shortly after returning. He had only been in the tunnel a few dozen times then. He was proud to say his kill ratio was below one-half of a percent. His team mates collectively didn't agree, and often took no prisoners.

He enrolled at Stanford where he enrolled on the GI bill. When attending a modern history class he found that the professor would not discuss the Vietnam War without ranting about all of the issues of those opposed to the war, so he had asked for and went to a counseling session with this professor. They agreed that he would receive an 'A' in the course if he just did not show up to drag the professor into a debate everyday. (Don't you love higher educators?)

At first he agreed, and then felt like he had something to say that was not being heard, so he went back and fought this professor about everything they disagreed about. The professor flunked him and he appealed to no avail. He saw that there was no one listening, and never enrolled for the next term, instead he enlisted in the Marines.

With his experience he was assigned to special forces training after boot camp and then he was shipped directly to 3rd Marines, 3rd Battalion and assigned to a patrol team as a tunnel rat. He had been a civilian for all of 117 days.

His Commanding Officer said, "No prisoners."

He and the team trained on cleared tunnels on the base for a week and then went on patrol. His first time in the tunnel as a Marine he was clothed and he was constantly snagged and tangled up with the roots and trash and realized that it would be the last time he would tunnel rat while clothed.

Two days later he was again dropped in a hole and he once again stripped and got his gear together as he had in the Army. When they picked him up about 900 feet away, 7 hours later, he had thirteen prisoner soldiers, and a women he suspected of being prisoner of the Viet Cong.

His CO exploded and threatened to court martial him, but he just stood at attention naked and dirty and suffered the ass chewing he was getting. He was still naked, and he still had a very hard cock pointed at the CO's face about a foot from his belt buckle because the CO stood so close to make his Marine Corps point.

Tunnel Rat 'Robin' saluted the CO and then was dismissed by the XO. As he walked away, his team saluted the CO then gave 'Oorah' at the tunnel rat about ten times. The CO never again mentioned the prisoners, civilians or anything the tunnel rat brought with him when exiting a tunnel.

When in the tunnels, it wasn't all work and no play. Sometimes rather than capture the enemy immediately, he would act as a deserter to learn as much as he could before turning them in as prisoners. He had learned the first time he went in a tunnel naked that the enemy had never seen a black man naked. Even though 'Robin' was a negro, he was a milky dark chocolate color, but his pitch black cock was always iron-hard erect when he was so full of adrenalin.

He had captured the thirteen of them and was organizing them to get them safely out of the tunnel and not shot by his troopers when one of the women said to him in perfect English, "You fuck me, and I stay here in the tunnel? I am a prisoner of the these Viet Cong and they will kill me rather than let me live if we are taken prisoner. I know too much to be safe unless I flee into the jungle after you guys leave."

She helped secure them all and then she grabbed his hose and began to stroke it and began a whiny-sing-song-hum while giving him head. Here he was in a tunnel in Vietnam, with thirteen Viet Cong killer soldiers, with a naked woman sucking and humming on his cock. He had a momentary high and offered to keep her safe. In appreciation and also in admiration of his pitch black cock, she agreed, probably thinking she would never get another chance.

The one thing he was certain of was that the second he dropped into the tunnel, his life was almost worthless. The fear and adrenalin were so 'fun' together that he thrived and was always erect when he was in the tunnels.

The enemy were all sitting one behind the other with their hands zip-tied behind their backs as he blew a big load all over the woman face. While she was busy with his cock, the enemy were all jacking off each other while watching. He had the thought that it was like a daisy chain of homos.

The image was locked in his pleasure center as a night of red light shadows, and from then on he always wanted an audience when he had sex. He eventually left the tunnel with all of them and explained that the woman knew English and sent her through channels to the interrogation center where she eventually became one of the best interpreters and interrogators for the U S and South Vietnamese forces.

When he had time on the base, while he waited to be forced back home, they would meet for a cigarette and have hands and mouth sex. She could suck him off in about 42 seconds average, and fuck him to an orgasm in about a minute. They both preferred to do it in the open, hoping someone would notice. Most often they would hear catcalls from the other GI's.

He became even more of a loner in the tunnel after a fellow rat nearly got them both killed. His CO and all others up the chain of command disapproved of him, but put up with his nude tunneling because he was the best of all of the tunnel rats any Marine knew about. His team named him 'Robin' since the Army already had a tunnel rat named 'Batman'

His favorite strategy was to be dropped off near a hole and then await night when the men and women fled the tunnel to create havoc and kill the invaders. As soon as they cleared the tunnel he would enter it and ransack it for information. When he had all he could either carry or hide, he staked out the entrance again and corralled the returned tired troops in the tunnel and brought them back out of the tunnel as prisoners. Most times the women were wanting sex in exchange for freedom, which he could readily promise and had no way to fulfill. He had always promised sex after he could get them to safety. Once out of the tunnel he never followed through with the sex, only the safety.

He mostly received their grateful blow jobs. He most loved fucking and watching the eyes of the enemy as he treated and enjoyed sex with their women with his very long cock. The Viet Cong seemed to consider his long black cock as a serious weapon, and often he disarmed them while they were in shock from seeing him naked and hung so well, he was obviously not white skinned even under the charcoal, which seemed incongruous to the Viet Cong.

He eventually was knifed by a man, and when released from the field hospital, found out he was without a job, because of the wound, his third, he was being sent 'Home'. He didn't want to go home, so again he located the Interpreter he had salvaged, and she found him an 'advisor' job at intelligence where he and she ended the war when he returned as a civilian as soon as he was discharged from the Marines.

He was eventually sent home as a civilian after a total of 9 years in Viet Nam and came back to 'the real world' in April of 1975 when everyone had to leave Viet Nam. The interpreter wouldn't leave her homeland. He pined for her for over 20 years. He finally got the nerve to revisit Viet Nam even though there had been a reward for his head for a number of years during and following the war. He had been assured by special forces command that he could go safely. So, away to Viet Nam he went in 2016. He looked for the Interpreter for days and had to give it up, as all his leads had petered out and he could look no farther.

He decided on a lark to attempt to find the tunnel where he had met her. He found a salvage helicopter being used for freight to the jungle villages and snagged a ride to the spot he thought was the place. The chopper dropped him, almost like in the war with a hovered landing and then it disappeared. The jungle silence was magical. He immediately returned in his mind to that day and sort of trancelike walked around and almost fell into the well disguised rat hole. It now had a short wooden step down. As he sat there getting used to the pitch black tunnel he noticed that he was as hard as he used to get climbing in the tunnels so long ago.


As soon as he kneeled to begin to move forward, he heard the unmistakable 'click' of a weapon safety being released behind him from behind the step. Damn he thought, I didn't expect company.

In the local dialect he said her name. He thought he was about to be shot. Instead, he had a scratchy blindfold placed over his eyes, he could feel his clothes moving as it was all cut from his body, (a pair of shorts and a t shirt) and then some hands that were hard and calloused touching his black skin. The safety clicked again, and he again began to breathe. The hands touching him though tough, were gentle and were compelling him turn around.

He was still blindfolded when he felt a wet, warm something circle his cock. He felt his cock immediately respond into an even more rigid hard-on which surprised him. He was a lot older now and hadn't had a hard-on like this one in a long time. Tens of years he was sure.

He knew that he was a prisoner, but couldn't find a thought that would give him a safe advantage. He was about to take a chance and do something drastic like flee when he felt the circle slide downward over the shaft. He was scared and super hard and wildly aroused. Just as he was about to hit his fear overload limit, he blasted strings of come through the circle and that is when he felt a tongue circle the head of his cock and begin to smoothly caress his total length.

It was a familiar move. He immediately had a second orgasm when he recognized that it was her mouth cradling his cock. She continued to suck and swirl her tongue and suck and slobber and stroke with both hands until he shot a third load into her mouth. It had only been four minutes since he first came, when he came for a third time.

She then removed his blindfold, and handed it to him. It was the ribbon for the medal her country had given to each of them both for their intelligence and translating work during the war. He hugged her and then noticed that she was also naked. When they had visited and had warm and familiar sex for a while, he asked her why she was naked in a tunnel in the jungle?

She replied that she missed the rural living, and didn't have any family after the eventual over run of her country by the Communists who had been able to find all of her relatives and execute them.

He was the only person she thought that she could trust, and he had fled when the Americans fled that last day. She knew this was the safest place she could find for herself alone in a very hostile and dangerous country with a 'wanted' bounty over her head. She could trust no one and was able to survive as the Viet Cong had. She made raids for food and supplies and left things for the people she ripped off for the things she needed to survive safely.

She asked him to stay and he agreed. She lead him further down from the entrance area into the new part of the tunnel to a home she had dug for herself. It was about 35 feet deep at the floor. He laughed internally when he realized how it just seemed to automatically come to him to continually calculate and mentally map the tunnel.

It was crude, but roomy and cosy. She was shorter than him, but only a little so the tunnel height was just right to only occasionally bang his head. The next morning he decided that he would not return to civilization as the world knew it since he didn't fit in and he hated the lack of common sense most of the politicians seemed to suffer.

He never wore clothes again if possible to be nude, and she didn't either. They redeveloped the tunnel system and made it a tourist trap in Cu Chi. It became the most exotic nude destination on earth and eventually they were able to clear her wanted poster through paying a very stiff fine.

They created an experience venue and focused the marketing to those same people who protested the war. Secretly it was an official Vietnamese government propaganda venue, but the Vietnamese had no money to develop it. Tunnel Rat 'Robin' and the Interpreter proposed to the Vietnamese government which from the very beginning relished the idea of scamming the money from the Clontin Foundation. Everyone was aware they were skimming multi-million dollar salaries and doing not much for anybody who needed what they allegedly were offering.

He felt satisfied that such fucked-up Americans should come spend one night naked in a Communist tunnel for the ultimate way for them to develop an empathy for the men and women who answered the country's call in time of war. Of course, they both enjoyed knowing that the joke was on those visitors to their venue. Most were wealthy and were all shapes and sizes. Ages from 30, grandchildren of the former war protesters, through about 65 which was the protesters themselves.

The government as well as the Interpreter and the Tunnel Rat 'Robin' insisted on nudity and were able to recover their sanity and mine a shit-pot, a huge pile of money. When they had enough, they moved to the Navajo Nation and opened a sweat lodge company and eventually franchised it all across America's blue states, as that is where the big money resided. They eventually sold the Cu Chi venue to Chelcea for $213,997,000.00 US cash.

She took ownership and operated Cu Chi for about a year when the Vietnamese government confiscated it, citing morals and then closed it. She is still awaiting trial.

Epilogue:

FYI:

TRUE:

The latest statistic this author found for the Viet Nam War is as follows.

58,318 K. Americans killed in action or non-combat deaths.

1,598 MIA. Missing In Action.

153,303 Wounded in action.

778 POW Prisoners Of War

======

213,997 total Americans. Therein lies the sales price for the venue.

FICTION:

It is estimated that Chelcea lost $10,000.00 for each American casualty as recorded through April 5, 2018, as the total number of American victims of the Vietnam War. When she lost the venue, the Clontin Foundation had almost 4 trillion in assets that she used to buy the venue and then she paid her debts with the money that had been raised for charitable reasons. Since she didn't pay the Foundation back, it was then broke and it was the first time the Clontin's had paid there way.

Tunnel Rat 'Robin' found as many American families of those 213,997 American war victims as he and his battle buddies could find and gave them ALL some cash from the sale. No one knows where Tunnel Rat or the Interpreter are today, as they both now have the swamp dwellers after them, which is way, way deadlier than the war was for the two of them.

They asked Hanoi Jane to support this International site, but she just sent a check for $25.00.

McNamara died in 2009, but his foundation wanted to visit for free. They were refused entry to the country by the Vietnamese.

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4 Comments
Kitist02Kitist02about 5 years ago
Dreams...

And now I'll go dig out the Ambien and try to get some sleep, hopefully without nightmares.

I should know better than to keep reading things like this once I realize what they are about, but I'm always curious about how another author handles such a loaded topic.

Kitist02Kitist02about 5 years ago
You got it!

I served in Germany with two former tunnel rats, and they were definitely people that I'd want with me when the shit hit the fan.

We had maybe 20% 'Nam vets, mostly REMFs, in my unit, and maybe 20% of those were combat arms of one sort or another. Our two tunnel rats were treated as honored guests by the CA guys. Our battalion CO really hadn't a clue as to how to deal with these guys. I think just the CAs alone scared him half to death.

MackBobMackBobover 5 years ago
Laughing

All the way to the bank!

AnonymousAnonymousover 5 years ago
F'd Up

That was an f'd up story about an f'd up war. 5*

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