Chapter 31

Don and Lanh remained at Grand Forks for several years, Don had listed himself as a non-volunteer for overseas assignments so they could stay close to friends and family as Tam, Huy, and Bao’s children were born and learned to climb all over “Unka Don” and make lefsa with “Anty Lanh.” It was not unusual to see Don and Lanh milking the cows on a Saturday evening, assisted by their oldest nephew Tam and Jake’s son Chip, and their oldest niece Bao and Rosa’s daughter Chau. Sleepovers were the order of the day when Uncle Don and Aunt Lanh were at the farm. They didn’t want to displace Kim-ly, who permanently rented the Bunk House apartment now, but Kim-ly insisted they stay there because Don built it for Lanh.

Don no longer worked directly on the aircraft as soon as he got a line number for Technical Sergeant. He was trained as a maintenance expediter, ensuring that the right technician was on the right airplane doing the right job. It could be exciting but compared to fighters, bombers move in slow motion, and a job that would take fifteen minutes on a “Lawn Dart” (an F-16) could take hours on “The Bone” (a B-1), due to the complexity of the systems. Don pushed his men and women hard, and in return, the squadron got the best maintained aircraft they had ever enjoyed.

Don and Lanh had a couple of years left before they could return home, they had re-enlisted based on a large re-enlistment incentive bonus giving them a nice chunk of change, which they turned over to Bao and Kim-ly who invested it for them. But now it was time to put some stamps on Lanh’s passport. Don went to the personnel office and changed his status to volunteer and listed Asia as his preference. Korea, Japan, Okinawa, Hawaii, they’re all good. Even Guam would be interesting. They could get tours of the Philippines from there, learn to scuba dive, relax on the beach.

Weeks later, Don returned home with a large envelope and dropped it on the dining room table. Lanh looked up from her classwork, her glasses at the tip of her tiny nose. “What’s wrong honey?”

“FIGMO,” he said sadly.

“FIGMO?” with shaking hands, she slid the stack of orders out of the envelope and read their new home. “Eighth fighter wing, eightieth fighter squadron, Kunsan Airbase, R.O.K.” She looked and reread it again. The words didn’t change. “Shit.”

“Roger dat,” said Don as he crouched behind Lanh and hugged his disbelieving wife from behind. Kunsan was the ONLY base they didn’t want. It’s an isolated remote assignment which meant that Don was going to go alone and live in the dorm. There were no facilities for what the military calls “dependents.” No school for the children, no housing for the spouse, medical facilities are designed for the needs of the programed number of military personnel on base, and not a soul more. It’s a rough and tumble base, ready for war, and limited in amenities.

Sure enough, Annie called a few hours later and helped talk Lanh off the ledge and put the seed of an idea into her head. It’s unclear how Annie gets her information sitting on her pool deck sipping her iced drinks, but she does, and she invited Don and Lanh down to Florida for a brief vacation before Don ships out to “The Kun.”

Like many airports, the Jacksonville Florida airport has a poorly designed departure area. It’s crowded and congested and a nightmare to navigate. To make matters worse, folks looking for a taxi or a bus to the rental cars all get dumped in the same place that folks waiting for a ride, folks looking for a cab, and folks trying to get to the parking lot end up making the crowd trying to get away from the airport a seething mass of confusion.

Lanh thought that having grown up in a city, she would be better at fighting her way to the rental lot bus, but her diminutive size prevented her from punching a hole through the crowd. Don, however, could get through the crowd, but navigating in an airport was not his forte. When you fly on USAF cargo planes solely, you don’t have to fight your way through an airport; they pick you up in a secluded area and drop you off right where you need to be. But acting as a team, they were unbeatable and were soon at the Avis desk and ten minutes later they were in a convertible, winging their way south toward Beverly Beach, Florida.

“This sun is glorious!” cried Lanh. She’s never been in a tropical area before. April in Florida is akin to a high summer in Minnesota. She looked around and, seeing that they had the entire road to themselves, she took off her blouse, exposing her breasts to both the warm Florida sun and the arctic blast from the car’s air conditioning vents. The effect was quite spectacular.

“How am I supposed to drive like this?” complained Don.

Lanh just rolled her eyes and grabbed his hand and placed it on her tit. “Gawd! You’re worse than you were in high school!” she insisted as he began squeezing her boob.

“I was a virgin in high school and there hadn’t been a breast in my life of any caliber since third grade.” Don rolled her rock-hard nipple between his fingers. Third grade is when his mother died, leaving Don and his father alone with no women of any age in their lives until Don’s freshman year in high school when he started stalking Lanh and his dad and Sandy Robertson realized they had feelings toward each other.

Lanh fumbled around in her carryon bag and found what she was looking for: a bikini. This one was a bit more modest than her tiny bikini she wears when fishing on Lost Long Lake. She eased off her knee length skirt to reveal the secret that Don discovered not long after taking off from Minneapolis; she wore no panties under her skirt. They cuddled and necked like teenagers all the way to Jacksonville, asking only for a blanket to cuddle under, and Don masturbated her to several hushed orgasms. In return, she swallowed one load of his cum.