B.J.Jones the Story of My Life - Cover

B.J.Jones the Story of My Life

Copyright© 2012 by jballs

Chapter 394

Ex-Military Sex Story: Chapter 394 - This is the story of the life of Roberta Josephine Jones. Shortened to BJ by her friends. From the battle fields Afghanistan with the Marines, loss of her life time friend, with flash backs to her wild youth. After the Marines she must find her way in the world. The early chapters of this story includes incest, les,rape and other adult themes. I plan for this to be a multi-part serial. This is my first attempt at writing. Much of the sex is in the early chapters changing to action and drama.

Caution: This Ex-Military Sex Story contains strong sexual content, including Ma/Fa   mt/ft   Fa/Fa   ft/ft   Mult   Consensual   Romantic   Heterosexual   Fiction   Nudism   Slow  

The Doctor decided he wanted the container next to other two. The driver struggled but finally got it in place. With the doors opened it was a nice unit, clean and ready to use. The driver immediately left to go back to Gulu.

The first thing to unload was the trailer behind the truck. Everything had been unstrapped while the container was being positioned. There were 10 of the miniature tables for the kids to kneel at. They were put in a pile for the time being. At a total of 80 feet, a lot of kids could be fed at one time by using both sides.

Then there were two wash tubs to wash things in and two large propane self-standing burners with at least 5 gallon cooking pots. There were 4 large racks that had to be assembled. Then there were 10 new 5 gallon buckets, a box that contained two different sized ladles and at least a dozen of the old crank style can-openers.

Andy moved the trailer out of the way and unhooked it; there were at least 6 pallets of something still on it.

With the truck backed as close to the container as possible, we began the tedious task of unloading all those cans. With six cans to the case, 50 pounds a case, a person could get tired out quickly.

We rotated people out of the line for rest and to continue to have someone doing guard duty.

As soon as a pallet was emptied and set aside it was dragged off to become part of another lean-to or fire wood; soon there was a line of haggard women waiting for the pallets.

I mentally kicked myself in the ass for not realizing that everything had a use in a place like this. The old saying was “Ones man’s trash is another man’s treasure.” I was even more upset because we had a stack of 50 or so at the embassy that were going to end up in the trash. We could have easily loaded them on the trailer.

With the truck unloaded, the container was nearly half full; we did not stack them to the ceiling for fear of someone getting hurt trying to get a case down from over their head. Then all the cases of crackers were stacked inside.

Andy asked if they should have picked up some rat and mice poison.

“No, I am sure that if any of those are here, they get eaten and I would be afraid a child would get into the poison,” I replied.

With the truck moved the men assembled the racks and put them against one side. Then they began to open the crates of disposable bowls and spoons I had asked for and stacked them on the racks.

I was surprised when I saw them; they were top of the line disposable plastic with the kind of quality that could be washed and reused multiple times before it would have to be trashed. The girls had pulled another slight of hand improvement on what I had asked for.

With the truck out of the way, Andy and the guys began setting up an eating area for the kids. Andy and the guys had bought several those backyard fast-assemble party canopies; enough to cover the 40 feet of tables in two rows and a couple extra were set up. The two extra 8 foot plastic tables were set up with plastic chairs.

One of the men hooked the trailer back up and it was backed up the container again; they started opening the other crates. The crates were filled with gallon jugs of distilled water to add to the soup that went into the container. I could just imagine the uses for the empty jugs in this place.

All these things appearing explained why they had made so many trips around the city yesterday.

The big pots were washed and filled with soup and a gallon of water and then mixed with one of the ladles.

The last two crates were 50 pound propane tanks to fuel the burners; six tanks to the crate. I needed to talk to Andy about that one; just how were the people here going to get the tanks refilled?

The word was sent out that in half an hour there would be a meal served at the medical tent for all children. It wasn’t hard to get the word out; we had an audience the entire time we had been here.

No matter how poor and weak kids were, they were curious by nature and with trucks, men and all things going on, we had to be careful we did not step on them, they were so close.

I wondered where all the adults were today. The last time we were here there were plenty wandering around, looking; today there were not near as many. I hoped that they had not been lured into trying to get back to their villages.

Dr. Palermo had finished his doctor duties for a while and joined us.

“The word is out that they are catching a few fish in the nearby lake the last two days, but no one has returned with any fish. The lake is fished out and needs time to recover but the people are desperate; worst thing is the lake is polluted. The lake is fed from the Sudan and the river is used a dump.”

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