Family Paine: A POW Story – Intro

Three generations of men from a military family stoically suffer through the tortures and humiliations of becoming Prisoners of War.

Family Paine: A POW Story - Intro
by GayBondageFiction
Series: Family Paine
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family-paine-smallIntro

The feel of the small rocks against the skin of Hunt’s thighs and his ass were particularly disconcerting but it wasn’t enough of a distraction to keep him from feeling the way jutting rock protrusions from the wall he leaned against caused even more discomfort.

“I just don’t get why we’re naked. I mean, isn’t that offensive to them?”

The man next to him laughed, and Hunt wished desperately he could see the man’s expression. Just the sound of laughter filled him with desperate longing for home, and it felt like a simple glance would take the fear of the situation away for at least a moment.

“We’re naked because they want us naked. It’s that simple.”

That was no kind of answer and Hunt sighed. “Are you naked, too?”

“Why? You want to cop a feel?”

“No! I just—” Hunt stopped protest as the other Marine laughed.

“I’m just screwing with you. Relax.” The other marine’s voice certainly held laughter but there was something else, too. Something bitter, maybe? No. That wasn’t it. It was some kind of calm resignation. “What’s your name?”

“Private First Class Hunt, Sir.”

“Your parents named you Private First Class?”

“No, Matthew.”

“Why did you call me, Sir?”

“Aren’t you an officer?”

The other man laughed. “Why would you say that?”

“You’re so damned calm here. I mean, I’m freaking out and you’re laughing and…” Hunt didn’t know how to explain it. He finally gave up and asked, “Are you blindfolded like me?”

“Yes. Hands behind my back, too.”

“What the hell are they going to do to us?”

There was silence for a while, and that silence seemed worse to Hunt than any torments the other marine might have been able to concoct. Hunt wasn’t sure if it was appropriate to ask again. Finally, though, he heard the other Marine draw in breath. “We could be bargaining chips but these assholes don’t seem to care much about winning. They care more about the fight. Plus, there’s no way in hell we’re gonna return any prisoners even in a trade.”

“Then what?”

“A symbol maybe? For a symbolic act. You know, on our knees while they’re chanting to their Allah and chopping off our heads.”

Fear flowed over him, and Hunt had to catch himself as he realized he was about to let out of choking sob. Finally, he calmed himself enough to say, “I just don’t understand how you can be so damned calm about all this.”

There was silence for a moment and the other Marine said, “You can’t control this right now. All you can do is wait and try to be strong. We have no options here.” That wasn’t at all what Hunt wanted to hear but he kept himself from responding. “Listen, being a POW isn’t the end. You can get through this with honor, you can go home a hero. Just stay strong.”

“Who are you?”

“My grandfather was a POW in World War Two. My dad was a POW in Vietnam. Both of them came home, and neither of them came home in a box.”

“So it won’t be that bad?”

The other marine laughed again, and this time there was no mirth in his voice at all. “No. It will be bad. It will be very bad.” Hunt felt his heart sinking. “It will be very bad but that doesn’t mean you can’t get through it and it doesn’t mean you can’t be brave.” Again the other marine was silent. Just when Hunt was about to speak again, the other said, “And it doesn’t mean that if things work out that way, you can’t die well.”

Hunt didn’t say anything for a moment and then finally said, “If you were going for encouragement, you’re piss poor at it.” He ended the comment with laughter, and it was genuine which surprised him but also delighted him. The other man joined in and it took a minute or two before they could stop. Finally, Hunt said, “I just wish I knew what would happen, you know. I mean if I’m going home missing an arm or a leg or if I’m gonna take some fucking Taliban bullet in the head I just want to know.”

The other marine seemed to edge a bit closer but in the blindfold, Hunt sensed it rather than saw it. He adjusted himself a bit, thinking maybe the marine wanted to lean back to back against him so they could each work on the others rope but instead the marine spoke.

“My name is Emmerson Paine The third. Gunnery Sergeant Emmerson Paine III.”

“Gunny?”

“That’s fine.”

“What the hell are we going to do?”

“We’re going to wait. I’ll tell you about my grandfather if you like, or I’ll tell you about my father. Maybe both. If they could get through what they got through, we can get through this, soldier.”

“What did they go through?”

Sergeant Paine paused for a long while and then said one word. “Hell.”

CONTINUE THE STORY:
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1 Comment

  1. 31118azti - July 10, 2019, 11:28 am

    Great start!

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