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All persons described in this tale are over 18 years of age before having sex. Characters in this story do not represent any person in real life, either alive or dead. All figures are indeed fictional. If you are merely looking for a story to arouse your libido, this may or may not be the story for you. I am by no means a military expert, so if I have made any mistakes in this area, please see fit to forgive me. I have the highest respect and gratitude to those who have served our country in any branch of the military.
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Copyright 2020
The Waffle House Girl
*** 1 ***
I turned forty-three on my last birthday. That in itself wouldn’t have bothered me, but I celebrated it alone. The first three years of my forties hadn’t been kind to me.
After my fortieth birthday, my wife of twelve years was killed by an over the road trucker trying to make it home for Christmas. I didn’t hate him for his wish to reach home by Christmas, but the fact that he was high on uppers and stay-awake pills made that huge truck a killing machine when he ran through a red light striking Marie’s small car. Thankfully, my Marie was killed instantly and didn’t suffer. At the time of her death, our only child, my daughter Molly, was away at college. I am Lt. Colonel Chase Camp, USMCR. The ‘R’ is for retired, something I should have done ten years earlier than I did, but unfortunately, that change didn’t come easily or quickly for me, and I wanted to finish my twenty years, which I did.
As had happened on too many occasions over the years, when something essential or tragic occurred, I was half a world away fighting our government’s enemy. I entered the U.S. Marine Corps via the ROTC program at the university I attended. After additional required officer training, I was a fresh-faced second lieutenant or nugget as the sergeants often referred to us under their breath.
In less than six months and after a short leave, I said goodbye to my parents and shipped off to the first gulf war in Kuwait. Though I started my career with the Marines as a junior infantry officer, I would later become involved in computer operations using my Computer Science degree. During my first six years in the Marines, I studied online to gain my master’s degree in computer science specializing in security.
I had never been out of the country before, but at the age of twenty-three, unmarried, and unattached in any other way, I saw it as an adventure. Boy, was I in for colossal surprise awakening. Whoever coined the phrase, “War is Hell,” must have been a Marine. I thought the desert was hot, but I can attest to the fact that in late January and early February 1991, it was often scorching during the day and damned cold at night. Sand, Sand, was everywhere. It was in your boots, in your eyes, even in the food we ate. I declared that I would never go to the beach again during that short war.
In those first days, I’m not ashamed to say I was scared shitless. It was dark at night, and once the jets started flying overhead and the bombs and rockets began landing, it got loud very quickly. They assigned me to a squad commanded by First Lieutenant Abrams. Known to his fellow officers as Abe, he was a lifer and had been in the Marines for fourteen years, which he considered a downpayment on a twenty-year career. He was an infantry commander, and he knew that was precisely the position where he belonged. We had a Marine sniper assigned to our unit, and we nicknamed him ‘GOD.'” If and when the combat moved to house-to-house fighting, it would be his responsibility to find a “hide” or high point to oversee and guard our platoon against an unseen enemy. Gunnery Sargent Jeff Goings was an incredible shot, and at a thousand yards or less, we all knew he was going to hit anything or anyone we asked him to shoot or whom he perceived to be a threat.
Military units like ours take on a personality of their own, and ours was no different. Each man possessed a unique character, and each had a job to do and knew precisely how to do that job.
Most people knew very little about that war except that Iraqi leader Saddam Hussein decided to flex his military muscle when he tried to capture and maintain Kuwait’s control, which he considered Iraqi lands anyway. Controlling Kuwait would also give Iraq access to the shipping lanes of the Persian Gulf. President Bush, the first President Bush, stated, “This won’t stand,” and in less than tecavüz porno two months, the coalition forces destroyed Saddam’s army and those that remained, tucked their tails and tried to run home with as many valuables as they could carry.
I got to see what remains when ‘The Eagle Flys’ and showers down its wrath on an enemy. Many Iraqis soldiers decided to head home in tanks, cars, trucks, half-tracks, and anything else that they could use to drive out of Kuwait. Most of the vehicles, filled with money and treasure stolen from the Kuwaiti people. They soon became target practice for our tanks, tank-killer planes called ‘A-10 Warthogs’, and Apache attack helicopters. The road to Iraq leaving Kuwait soon became covered for miles with burnt bodies and vehicles.
Once ‘Desert Storm’ was over, ‘the power’s to be’ sent us back stateside until the next crisis arose that required our services.
*** 2 ***
In 2003 a protracted war started with Iraq’s invasion by the United States and other coalition of nations attempting to put an end to Saddam Hussein and his tyranny. Reportedly, he had weapons of mass destruction that were never discovered. Who knew that his cruel monarchy was responsible for controlling the warring tribes of Iraq. I got to spend three tours of duty in this lovely place. When this war moved into Afghanistan, located just the other side of Iran, in a fight with the Taliban (al-Qaeda lead by Ossama Ben Laden), I also visited there. That war was earmarked ‘Operation Enduring Freedom’ by someone to keep track of all of the wars we suddenly found ourselves fighting.
When I started my first and only deployment to Afghanistan, I had a gut feeling that this would be Major Chase Camp’s last deployment. Let me make something clear. All marines in a war zone are combat marines and always carry a gun. On this deployment, I was in country to update computer systems throughout our bases and facilities. Then I was headed back to the safety of the good old USA. Well, that plan didn’t work out so well. I was only in the country six weeks when we hit a roadside IED that killed four of the six men in my vehicle, a lightweight armored Stryker ICV troop carrier.
I don’t know how I survived the attack along with my sergeant, who thank God, found the strength to pull my keister out of the burning Stryker. He, too, was wounded but still got us out of the vehicle and pull to relative safety. Later, I found out that other troops and a medic from another armored vehicle in our convoy immediately deployed to provide cover, protection, and medical aid. My right leg got shredded in the explosion, and the medic labored to keep me alive, but they couldn’t save my leg.
Somehow the medical people managed to save my life but not mangled leg. By the time I woke up, I was in a Landstuhl Regional Medical Center next to the U.S. Air Base at Rammstein, Germany. After a month or so in Germany, they transferred me to Walter Reed National Military Medical Center in Bethesda, Maryland, to receive additional surgeries and physical therapy to recover from my wounds fully. It was there that I received my artificial limb and learned to walk with it.
It had been a long journey to this point in my life, but you see it may have been destiny that took me to Walter Reed, where I met a particular Navy nurse named Marie. I had numerous surgeries on my leg to repair the IED explosion’s damage, and this was just one more. After this latest surgery, something strange happened while I was in recovery. I thought my nurse was a spirit of some sort at first sight. This woman looked like an angel when I first laid eyes on her. I was just waking up from the surgery, and the first thing my eyes focused on was the prettiest pair of blue eyes that I had ever seen. They were set in a beautiful face and surrounded by golden strands of corn silk hair. I just knew that I had died and that her wings would open at any second.
She spoke first, “Welcome back, Marine.”
Slowly I replied, “Where are your wings?”
“I’m sorry, Major, did you ask me where my wings were?”
Somehow I slurred out, “Yes, you’re so beautiful, so I figured I must be dead and that you had to be an angel, but I haven’t seen your wings yet.”
She started laughing out loud. Then she blushed and said, “Major, I have been a Navy nurse for three years, and that has to be the most original line I’ve ever heard.” She was smiling now, and she raised the head of my bed to a comfortable angle. I was trying to wake up after surgery, but I soon fell back asleep.
Once I was more or less awake, I finally noticed her uniform and rank. I replied with a red face, “I am so sorry, lieutenant, for saying something that some would certainly interpret, ‘as a comments unbecoming an officer and gentleman.’ I hope I didn’t offend you, but as I was just waking up, I thought for sure I had died and gone to heaven, although I couldn’t figure out how they let a reprobate like 18 porno me into heaven.”
That comment had the Lieutenant laughing so hard she was drawing notice from the other nurses and patients in the recovery unit. Once she calmed down and started speaking in a lower voice. “Major, how are you feeling? How is your pain level?”
“I feel alright, and my pain level is tolerable. Nurse, may I ask your name?”
“Major, I am Nurse Lieutenant JG Marie Jackson, and I consider it a pleasure to meet a gentleman like yourself. I will be taking you back to the ward in about thirty minutes once you have completely recovered from the surgical anesthesia, and your vitals remain stable for a little while longer.”
I replied, “That means I have thirty minutes to find out all of your pertinent details and see if you would like to get to know me better.”
She smiled and replied, “Well, Major, sir, let me make it easy for you since you are my patient. You already know my name, I am a recovery room and intensive care nurse, I live not too far from the hospital with two other nurses, and I am completely unattached. By that, I mean that I am not married and I don’t have a boyfriend, in other words, I am available to date a handsome, available Major. Oh, and yes, Major, I would love to get to know you a lot better. May I come to see you when my shift ends this afternoon?”
“Marie, you can come to see me at any time of the day or night you wish. I would love to get to know you better. I hope that I didn’t just overstep the bounds as an officer and a gentleman, again.”
Without rehashing our entire romance that led to our marriage three months later, I will say that it was love at first sight for both of us.
Marie was a bit older than me at the time and already had an eight-year-old daughter named Molly. Her father never had contact with her, and within the first year of our marriage, I became Molly’s adoptive father.
*** 3 ***
My love for my two girls was incredible. Marie left the Navy as a Lt. Commander nine years after we met and began to work as an R.N. in a local hospital only two years before her death in a terrible auto accident. She was, to everyone who knew her, an excellent nurse, and an outstanding loving person.
Our now 20-year-old daughter, Molly was my rock during the weeks following Marie’s death. The funeral and the family gathering were all a blur to me, and only weeks later did the reality of her death hit me.
I lost Marines in battle, and I had suffered some PTSD effects during my career, but none of that held a candle to the state of my psyche after Marie’s death. I asked for and received a month’s leave for bereavement and started drinking. Not just drinking, I was drinking like a fish in the water. By the end of my month-long military leave, I went to the base to see my commanding officer. I was now a walking shadow of the man that I was when Marie died.
My commanding officer recognized what was happening to me and sent me straight to see a psychiatrist at the base hospital. She hospitalized me to detox, and I received psychiatric help for another round of PTSD. She used a new form of stimulation therapy to treat me, and it turned out to be a miracle treatment in my case. I got off the whiskey and went back to work again. I only needed another three years to retire with twenty years and one more upgrade in rank. Three years later, I retired from the Marine Corps as a Lt. Colonel, USMCR.
That was a year and a half ago. At age 42, I’ve come to see that my life has been a real roller coaster; however, they say that with age comes wisdom. Well, I don’t know so much about how that applies to me. Maries’ death at such a young age, really threw me for a loop. It took a long time to recover and become my old self. In the last eight months, things appear to have turned around for the better, so I guess I am on the upside of life again. For the first six months after I retired, numerous internet security companies had tried to recruit me. However, I just couldn’t see myself in a suit reporting to an office every day and working for other people to make them wealthy.
Besides, I had enough money to be happy. I received a nice pension and a percentage of disability and my wife’s pension from our military retirements. That alone would pay the mortgage and the other regular bills. My daughter was now out of college and had a great job as an accountant for a large auditing firm. She would soon earn her CPA and perhaps start a firm of her own. Who knows, she might even come to work for my company if I ever go to work that is.
After the accident, I was contacted by an attorney that offered to represent me in a suit against the trucking company that owned the truck and employed the driver that killed Marie. They were negligent in the accident due to poor maintenance practices, and I was furious about my beloved wife’s loss. I discovered that the attorney that contacted konulu porno me was a former JAG lawyer and was very reputable. We won the case, and the jury awarded over three million dollars. My wife and I carried a lot of life insurance since we still owed money on the house and Molly’s college loan costs. So when all the dust settled, I put one million dollars in a trust fund for Molly, paid off everything I owed, and still had over three million dollars invested in managed investments. I could afford to take my time and wait for the right opportunity to come along. So for the next three months, I sat in my Virginia home and waited.
Then my big break came. One of the companies doggedly pursuing my professional services approached me with an offer I couldn’t afford to refuse. The company’s owner called me one day and asked me to come to Nashville, Tennessee, to visit him at his headquarters to discuss a possible joint venture. The joint venture would be a new division to his company, started to utilize my skill set. It seemed like it could be financially rewarding, so I accepted his invitation and headed for Nashville two days later.
A week later, I was a one-third owner in a large internet security company and head of the military security division with the title vice president of corporate military security affairs. The salary was excellent, but the percentage of profit had the potential to take my wealth to a whole new level. Travel was limited to a handful of trips per year, and the best part was that I could work from any secure encrypted computer. I have been in Nashville for nine months when I sold my home in Virginia, where I retired and moved to a neighboring county to Nashville onto a beautiful piece of property on a lake. I built the home of my dreams and added a covered and screened built-in pool and hot tub.
I made a habit of working in the office Monday through Wednesday, and then I worked from home on Thursdays and Fridays to catch up on computer work made much more productive with limited interruptions. That evolved into three days in the office with Monday and Friday working at home.
I have always been an awful cook since I had been in the military for so many years. I just didn’t have a lot of practice. Marie and Molly were both excellent cooks, so I only had outside grill duties. Therefore, I made a habit of going to the Waffle House Restaurant near my new home for breakfast every morning. At forty-three, I felt that I was on top of the world but for one thing. I missed my daughter, and I often felt lonely for the company of a woman. Not just any woman, I wanted a woman to love and to whom I could interact in intelligent conversations. That was a difficult combination to find with my work schedule.
Living in a somewhat remote area, we didn’t exactly have an abundance of choices for restaurants. Hence, as I eluded earlier, I found myself habitually going to the local Waffle House every morning. The place was clean, fast, with great service and excellent food. After about a month, I noticed a beautiful younger lady working as a server. An official tag on her yellow dress listed her name as Julie. I guessed her age to be about thirty to thirty-five years old. Guessing ages was not one of my strong suits, so she might have been five years older or younger. She was always very quiet, despite my efforts to be friendly. I always gave her a big tip because my gut told me that she didn’t belong here and that she might need help.
Julie was, to put it simply, a sweet young lady. She was easy on the eyes, with shoulder-length light brown hair that always had a sexy waviness. Julie was very fair complected and possessed lovely skin. She was rather tall for a woman and quite lean. The uniform she was required to wear was a knee-length dress in a rather unpleasing color, but she made that dress look great. Oh, and her eyes were the first thing about her that I noticed. Her eye color was Caribbean Sea blue, deep as wells that would just suck you in until you couldn’t hold on any longer. She wore little or no makeup to work, but she didn’t need any makeup at all to look incredible in my viewpoint.
At first, we spoke in generalities, and I discovered she was single with no children and an ex-husband. She stated that she wasn’t even looking very hard any longer. I could see a lonely girl in those beautiful eyes.
I found out that her day started at the Waffle House at five in the morning and that she got off at two in the afternoon. As I said earlier, my gut told me there was more. I just had a feeling that there was a much larger story here than was evident on the surface.
After a casual relationship for the better part of six months, I decided that it was time to get to know Julie better if she’d let me. She only worked Monday through Friday as a rule, unless someone needed off, and Julie would work for them on the weekend. On Friday of that week, I turned up at six in the morning and found that I was the only customer. I went straight to Julie’s service area, and she brought me coffee, with creamer and sweetener out of habit, since I ordered that every morning.
She set my coffee down and said, “Good morning, Chase. What are you doing up so early? Did you have trouble sleeping?”
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