Chapter 7: Meetings and Actions

“I’d say good afternoon, but it’s really not that good. First Sergeant, who supervised the cleaning of the Barracks Two through Five?”

“Privates Gregory and Rose, Sir. They both reported physical corrections were needed multiple times upon different inmates. Sorry, Sir, ‘guests.’ The residents of Barracks Four apparently decided they could do a half-ass job of it, and simply refused to do anything better. The privates both reported to their platoon sergeants the issues they had, and they reported to me.”

“Well, that didn’t take long, did it? On the other hand, what I’ve noticed of the grounds is that they’re in quite good shape. Beginning tomorrow, each Barracks is responsible for their own cleaning. Failure to properly clean a barracks will result in loss of privileges. Make sure they know their beds, mattresses, and blankets... are privileges. As are the pee, poop, scrubbing buckets, and uniforms.”

“Yes, Sir.”

“Sergeant Brooks, it appears that something I discussed with Corporal Davis will be needed a bit sooner than I expected. Have he and his team get with Supply, to make sure they have something working in, what? Three days give them enough time?”

Brooks nodded. “Sir, Davis left me some notes on things they’ll need. I talked with Brian, it’ll probably require a trip to Elk City, maybe Weatherford. I’ve already talked with Logan, Carlos knows what is needed, and he can go with Brian.”

“Approved. Sergeant Hawk, make the list Corporal Oviedo will have priority, so he’ll get his stuff first. I’m not happy that things are progressing at a faster pace than we anticipated. I don’t mind spending a little ammunition to teach a point like I did this morning, but it appears that we’re dealing with mules as far as some of our ‘guests’ are concerned. I prefer not hitting them too many times upside the head with two by fours. After a while, they start liking it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Hawk replied. “I actually had a mule, so I know what you’re talking about.”

“What’s the feedback so far on Barracks One?” Anderson asked.

Sergeant Hall said, “No complaints from any of the men. All food served to us met our standards quite well. Some of them seem to enjoy cooking, so I’m keeping track of those who have a knack for it. Just because you enjoy it doesn’t mean you actually know what the hell you’re doing, as we all know from experience.”

“That’s for damned sure,” Gleason said. “We had a cook in the sandbox that could fuck up an MRE. Sir, I told Rose to not use Lima Foxtrot, so that’s on me.”

Anderson shook his head. “No, unless there’s an actual physical altercation going on, I don’t want anyone to use lethal force. Private White tasering McNeil this morning was fine. These batons are quite capable of breaking bones, so I don’t mind if the men have to do that. I think once we get our counseling devices, things will settle down a bit. This is, to a certain extent, some of the same behavior I saw in Iraq, with our prisoners there. Some of them were so grateful to be alive, they would do anything we wanted. Others were resentful that we’d kicked their asses up one side and down the other, and some of them resisted. Once, anyway. Damned shame we had such lousy maintenance, our weapons would misfire all the time at night when there were troubles with prisoners.”

“Jesus, Sir! I thought I was a hard assed bastard,” Jackson said.

“General McCaffrey officially didn’t know about it. Anyway, that’s ancient history to us now. Sergeant Hawk, you mentioned you and Corporal Connors were smarter than your Commanding Officer earlier. Get the equipment for me if it’s available.”

“Yes, Sir. It’s in the monitoring center. One moment.” He got up, left the room, and came back in with two blister packs, each holding dog trimmers. He took them up front and handed them to Anderson. There was almost a group moan from the rest of the sergeants.

“Christ, I’m an idiot,” Jackson said. “I didn’t even think about that.”

“Shit, none of us did,” Brooks replied. “And I’ve got no excuse. I actually went to DI school, for God’s sake.”

While they were bitching, Anderson pulled a knife from his pocket and sliced the plastic open on both of the kits. He handed one back to Hawk, who took it to back to his seat. Anderson spread the trimmer, guards, scissors, brush, and bag out on his desk.

“Don’t feel bad. We all used to buzz cut in combat because it was easy to care for, the same reason they did it when you all enlisted. As an exalted ROTC cadet, I never got to experience that level of humiliation, even if it truly had the real purpose of keeping lice and other critters down.” He reached down and plugged them in, then hit the button. “Oh, there’s a little bottle of oil. With the number of heads you’re going to shave later this afternoon, you’ll want to keep them lubricated.”

He put a couple of drops of oil onto the clippers, then motioned for el-Azizi to come over. Reluctantly, she scooted closer to where he was sitting. Anderson grabbed a trash can, placing it behind her. “Put your hands behind you to support yourself, and lean back.” She did so, not even realizing how that was jutting her breasts out for the Sergeants to see. She was trembling while she waited for Anderson to turn the clippers on again. He gathered her hair, which reached down past her shoulder blades, with his left hand. Taking the scissors with his right, he then cut about eight inches off the bottom, letting it fall into the trash can. Letting her hair loose again, he looked at it, then trimmed things a little so it was closer to even.

“Okay. Stand up, facing the men.”

She did so, puzzled that he hadn’t shaved her head completely. Sergeant Brooks had a faint smile of approval that she didn’t try to cover her breasts or groin, like she’d tried to do last night. She’d learned from the physical correction.

“Sergeants, as you can see, this guest has a large amount of pubic hair. Unfortunately, that’s also an area that can gather lice, and nobody wants crabs. I wasn’t inspecting for them yesterday when I did my examinations. However, I did note that only about a fourth of our guests are actually sculpted, trimmed or shaved in this area.” Anderson put the shortest guard available on the clippers, then turned them on. “Turn your feet outward, and squat down a little. That’ll make this easier.”

When el-Azizi did that, Anderson quickly used the clippers, removing most of her pubic hair, leaving only a stubble. She couldn’t help but jump a little when he brushed her clitoral hood with the vibrating clippers a couple of times before turning them off. “Sergeant Hawk?”

“We have enough safety razors and soap on hand.”

“Good. The guests do not get to shave themselves. Run this a bit like an assembly line. Heads at a quarter, so they have some stubble. Otherwise they’ll get sunburns. Then pubes with the close guard. That’ll take a Corporal maybe two minutes, tops. Two more stations, so they can then get pubes and if needed, underarms, shaved by one of you. Sergeants only on the shaving. Start with Five, finish with One, so One can have enough time to get chow ready.”

“Yes, Sir,” Jackson said. “Anything else today, Sir?”

“No, I think we’ve fucked things up enough so far. I wonder if the men’s camps had this much confusion when they set things up.”

“Probably. I don’t think many of us were MPs. Ten - Chut!”

The Sergeants all stood, while Anderson walked out of the room, a very shaken and now more disturbed than ever el-Azizi following him.

Once they were out of the room, Jackson looked at the other men. “Brian, I owe you an apology. I hereby officially apologize. I thought you were full of shit yesterday.”

“Remember what the old man said,” Hawk responded.

Anderson went back to his office to do more paperwork, el-Azizi again sitting on the floor. She felt uncomfortable after a couple of minutes, with something not feeling right.

“Sir? I have a problem.”

“What? Oh, I didn’t think about that, some stubble may have gotten stuck. Well, it’s going to be a while before they get the shaving stations set up. Come on.” He stood up and walked back to his quarters. Once they were inside, he opened his dresser and got his shaving kit out.

“That sink probably can’t support your weight, but the toilet can. Sit on the back, feet on the bowl, lean back against the wall, spread your legs wide, and hold your skin tight.” He turned the sink on, allowing the water to warm up a little, while she got into position. “Yep, I can see the problem from here. The clipper shot a pubic hair so it stuck to your labia, and then slid inside. Just a second.”

He took a cup from his kit, filled it with water, then poured it over her, like rinsing an eye. “Well, that got it, but you’re going to itch something terrible. Keep yourself spread open.” He pulled a bar of soap out, lathered his hand up, then rather calmly rubbed it into her pubic stubble. Then he took a razor and shaved her. He was careful to make sure he didn’t cut her, and at the same time, while moving around a little to get her hair, he purposely would hit her clitoris.

While he was taking his time shaving, he said, “You know, I didn’t finish what I was talking to you about in Barracks One. Things being what they were, I needed to shift my focus. But I’ll finish it now. One of the reasons our country is set up the way it is, is so that population concentrations can’t run the whole thing. That’s why we have, or had, the Electoral College. Each of the fifty states is supposed to be equal in the Senate, with the way things were originally set up, Senators appointed by the Governor. Members of the House of Representatives were elected by the population of the state, with each state getting a certain number of House Members, based upon their population. That’s why seven states only have one House Member, but they all have two Senators. Why this isn’t just southern states like before is we were more divided than ever before.”

As he moved to her legs, he continued to tease her clitoris, while still talking. “Kansas, for example, was classed as not in revolt by the fuckwad, because most of the area along the Kansas River, from Manhattan through Topeka and to Kansas City, were loyal. So in their minds, all of Kansas supported and loved him, and wouldn’t mind if their votes reflected that, no matter how a county voted. That didn’t work out well in Nebraska, when they said Fisher lost her Senate seat in a landslide. There’s only a quarter million Democrats in the whole state! So, if you remember the county maps from after the 2020 election, when the incumbent won twenty-six hundred counties, and the senile fuckwad barely won five hundred – but those were the counties with all the population – that’s more how the battle lines are in this war.”

He finished, then gave her a final rinse with a cup of water. She was watching him with her eyes, her body betraying her physical need. He raised up, then checked his dresser and pulled a hand towel out. “Stand up and squat like you were before, I don’t want you to chafe while we’re out walking this afternoon.” When she did so, he began drying her by rubbing her skin. He had no expression on his face as he dried her completely off, allowing the fabric from the towel to rub along her clitoris. She tried to keep her eyes on his, but when her orgasm hit, she had to close them.