a parody of the vietnam romance genre (who knew?), quilled by chootoy, glockgal, and stubbleglitter.
Waking from his nightmares, wondering if this was real, was Lt Goldman.
The nightmare was scary. Very, very scary. He wiped the sweaty tears from his face and tries not to remember what it was he had nightmared. But he couldn't forget. The nightmare was about the horrible day that he left her.
How could he forget the anguish, pain, suffering, hurt, torture he had to endure as he flew away from the hospital, away from her?
'God, I stink', Myron thought, rubbing his eyes tiredly.
He was exhausted from his nightmare. He was afraid to go sleep in fear that the nightmare would continue from where he left off. Reaching for a cigarette, he lit the cigarette and tried not to make too much noise and wake up Johnny McKay as he shot smoke from his nose.
Scratching his greasy, unshaven face, Myron couldn't help but think of the Sergeant Cherie Sutton. Her beautiful cascading corn- silk curls floated around face, making her look like an angel. His sweet angel.
He felt a heavy churning from within the deep effects of his gut, thus forcing him to hold back the tears that threatened to well his eyes full. Myron looked across at Johnny, anger building inside of him. How
can he be sleeping at a time like this? That insensitive, shallow bastard. He never never had a care in the world, whereas Myron's suffered from sweet angel withdrawal.
"Myron...?" Jonnny awoke and looked over at the other lieutenant.
Myron glared at him.
"Go back to sleep, Johnny," his voice ripped through the darkness and hit Johnny in his nerves. "Don't worry about me."
But of course Johnny worried about him! Johnny had awoken because it was almost like he had felt Myron's bad vibes from across the room. The hot dog pilot was afraid for Myron's sanity. The day he picked Myron up from the hospital in his chopper, he saw that faraway look in Goldman's eyes and knew those doe eyed had once again fallen upon the face of an agnel, sending him into a tailspin. For a week, Myron has been
chewing the heads off all his men and shooting gooks like crazy when he went into the boonies.
'I wonder is Zeke has even noticed the change in Myron ever since his time in the hospital.'
Myron had been wounded when he bravely saved the butt of some cherry newbie from being greased by a gook in the boonies.
"I can't sleep knowing you're acting like this, Myron! I am feeling so concerned for you!" Johnny leapt off his bed and started pacing.
"When I want your opinion, I'll give it to you!" Myron spat angrily.
He needed a shower. He needed to get out of there. Away from McKay. The closing walls that hurt.
He walked to the shower and walked into the stall. In the stall, he striped out of his boxers and stood naked as he turned on the water. He felt it run warm down his lean well-shaped body. He didn't look like
he was strong, but there was a lot of muscle behind that leannes.
As Myron soaped his smooth chest, he looked down and saw the scar on his chest that had caused him so much pain cut so deep in both mind and body. He recalled the day he has first been touched by his sweet angel, his Cherie......
"He's losing blood! get me an IV stat!"
Doctor Jellicoe ran into the emrgency room of the army hospital and pushed Sergeant Cherie Sutton aside.
"What the hell do you think you're doing, Sergeant? You are just a nurse. Get away from this soldier."
Cherie was tired but she stood her ground. "Don't patronize down on me, Doctor. I've been in more operations that you have. And this man who has been fighting for you and me and all of us will die if he doesn't get blod now! Stat!"
The doctor was so surprised at this beautiful woman's strength and presense that he simply stepped aside.
The operation continued.....
Myron awoke. The last thing he remembered was a gook bullet heading for him in the forest with his name on it. He had heard Sergeant Anderson call out and that was it. Now, his eye were gummy and he looked up from the hospital bed to see the vision of beauty like he had never seen before. Her porecelin skin was smooth and pale. Her hair formed like a halo around her perfectly shaped head. But what really pierced through his haze was her sapphire pools of eyes. They
were the most gorgeous eyes Myron had ever seen and it was like a blessing to see them after being wounded.
"Am I in heaven?" He asked to the angel who hovered above him.
Her soft laughter spilled from her Cupid's-kissed lips. "No you're in the army hospital. You were wounded on your last mission. Here..." She gently touched the bandage with her smooth, cool fingertips. She fingertips passed right over his chest, over his heart.
"You were hurt here..."
He trapped her hand against the tender skin of his powerful chest and she could feel his heart thudding beneath her hand. His hurt heart.
"So, "Myron said, "it was you that saved me?" He hoped she wouldn't take offence at his abrupt question.
Cherie turned her head away, blushing sixteen shades of red. "The doctor helped a little," she deadpanned.
"But now you must sleep, lieutenant. You must heal so you can go back into the field and save more men." He looked so vulnerable and peaceful, lying in the bed like a child.
She knew she had just met him, but could it really be true that love at first sight could happen so fast?
She stood silently and watched as he drifted off to dreamland, secretly hoping he would dream of her............
At the same time Myron was fantasizing about his sweet little angel in the shower, Johnny McKay had a drink with Sgt. Anderson.
"I'm worried about Myron, He's my best friend and he doesn't even know it!"
Anderson nodded and drank his beer. "I'll try to keep and eye on him, "He promised. "But you know how angry the LT can get when something is bothering him. Especially when it's about love."
So you know!" Johnny asked in surprise. "Well, we have to be there for Myron. I don't think I'll get a good night's sleep until I know that Myron's love is back in his arms."
"I hear that."
Two days later, Myron overheard a radio transmission--it sounded like a woman! As he got closer to the radio tent, he recognized the terrified
voice as none other than that of his angel!
He rushed to the radio and grabbed the mike from the operator.
"Cherie! He cried, his heart ripping in two. "Cherie! Where are you? What's wrong?!"
Cherie's voice crackled back. "Our chopper's been shot! Everyone's dead and I think the VC are nearby. Please help me! Don't let me die! "
She gave the coordinates before the radio went dead.
Myron rage built up in his gut and he let out a heart-wrenching whale as he threw the radio across the room. The operator stayed quiet, seeing the pain, suffering, anguish, fear and terror in the liuetenant's face. His sweet angel was in danger!
"Why are we here?" Taylor bitched as they marched at a fast pace through the jungle. "I could be in Sin City right now, with a mama-san!"
Percell yelled back "Don't you dare whine right now, Taylor! Don't you know that this mission is to save the LT's girl? We should feel privilaged that he trusts us to get her back home safe!"
"And kick some gook butt while we're at it," added Ruis.
Taylor immediately felt ashamed and shut up as they followed their courageous leader.
"Where to, LT? " asked Anderson, hanging anxiously on Goldman's every word. He had made a promise to Johnny and he was going to keep it no matter what.
"You must be losing your edge, Zeke, " Goldman snapped. "I told you the coordinates before we left."
"Sorry, LT." Zeke knew when to keep his mouth shut.
Soon enough, they reached the crashed chopper.
A hundred feet away, Cherie cradled Lieutenant Michael Stanford's head in her arms as she tried to stop the blood that was gushing from his right eye. Some sharpnel had hit his eye and she was trying her
damndest to still save him. The tears poured down her face as she pulled the shrapnel out.
"Hold on, Stanford, just hold on! Stay with me! Don't you die on me!"
Stanford was feeling the world slip away from him. So this was death. He was just glad that he was dying here in the arms of this brave nurse, trying so desperately to save him.
"It's too late for me," he croaked. "But you can still survive. You have to survive to help other soldiers make it through this god-awful war."
And then he died.
Through the trees, Goldman could hear the soft tinkling cry of his sweet angel. He left the others wandering aimlessly around the chopper and knelt down next to Cherie, who was sobbing and rocking back and forth, holding the dead Lieutenant's head.
"I couldn't save him," she wept. Then she saw him and recognition dawned in those sapphire blue eyes.
"Goldman!" she gasped. Goldman's heart wrenched. How could she be so beautiful and so brave?
"My sweet angel," he whispered. "I'm here, I'm here."
She lurched to her feet and suddenly a gook dashed out of the dense forest. He grabbed Cherie and grabbed her around the throat. Without blinking an eye, Goldman raised his rifle and squeezed off a round straight between the gook's slanty eyes.
"Don't touch my woman," he grouled. It sounded like it came from his chest, from his heart. Cherie fell onto his arms, so glad to be encirled by his warmth, strength, bravery, courage, his love.
"Come on, let's go back where you can recover in safety."
"Can I tell you something?" Cherie said.
"You smell like curdled milk. When was the last time you had a bath?" And with that, her eyes rolled back into her head and she passed out.
"Wow, LT," Ruis said. "You smell so bad you made her pass out!"
"Shut up, Roo. I'll deal with you back at base. Right now we have to get this lady to a hospital." Myron picked Cherie up into his arms and walked right by his open-mouthed men, who were now feeling shame
for laughing at such a serious time.
The men watched him walk by with this beautiful blonde woman in his arms and followed in silent awe as they began heading back to Camp Barnett.
Walking behind Goldman, keeping an eye out for any more gooks, Sergent Anderson said, "Good job, LT."
Back in Barnett, Cherie had finally recovered from the shock of the chopper crash. Even Johnny the hot dog had to admit that what she did was awfully brave when that chopper went down.
All that time, Myron spent every night pacing like a raging lion and drinking himself stupid. His men staying away because of the thundercloud hanging over his head. Was she going to be okay? Why could he not take away her pain the way she done for him? This war
brought him so much pain it was unfair and cruel that it would thus inflict the same on somebody as angelic as his sweet angel Cherie.
He finally got to see her in the hospital, lying there so pale and beautiful against the rough sheets. Why didn't they get her some proper bedding? he fumed.
"How are you feeling?" he asked and felt immediately like a donkey's behind. How could he be so stupid as to ask such an insensitive question? She had been through more trauma than he could imagine.
"It's not too bad," she quipped. "You should get better doctors out here, Myron. Some hippie tended to me and he had a monkey with him."
Hockenberry, Myron raged. After all Myron did for him, he would have thought that the medic would take better care of a woman so important to his Lieutenant. "I'll make sure he's punished," Myron promised.
Cherie turned a pale shade of pink that looked so heavenly that he couldn't breath for a minute.
"I'm...I'm getting out of hospital tonight," she shivered. Would he? Would he feel the same way that was having butterflies in her stomach?
Myron's heart leapt at his throat. "Why don't you come to my hootch," he offered. "We can talk about...what happened."
"I would like that so," Cherie smiled into his wonderful brown eyes. She had never wanted night to come so fast before.
Later that night...
Myron poured her another glass of wine. He had kicked McKay out for the night and McKay understood completely, he had even left his glasses for them to use.
She lifted the glass to her lips. She tasted the sweet sting of the wine. Feeling it trace a warm trail down to her belly. She was getting warm because of the wine...or was that because of how close the handsome Lieutenant was to her?
Cherie whispered breathlessly, "I have to thank you for saving my life," she said.
"I guess that makes us even, sweet thing," Myron purred. "You're my angel...and it looks like I'm yours."
Worlessly, Cherie rose and began peeling off her blouse, feeling Myron's hot brown eyes on her newly exposed flesh, hopeing he would touch her, hoping he would want her as much as she wanted him.
Myron got over his surprise and lurched towards her, hands trembling. He kissed her silky-soft neck, she smelt like roses. As he pressed close to her, she could feel his endowment against her gentle thigh and
she knew now that he wanted her badly. Myron lifted his head and kissed her, and in a flurry of passion, she ripped off his shirt buttons flying like shrapnel.
At this point he didn't care that his shirt was ruined, he was so overcome with the burning need to be nestled in the innermost petals of her most secret and sweet place.
The night passed away in sweet passion. Towards the moring light, she lay content in his arms, the damn war forgotton. Maybe, because of this magical night, the secret she had to reveal to him would not be so
painful as she knew it would.
"Cherie," Myron's low voice said, "I lov-"
She pressed her slim, perfumed fingers to his mouth.
"Don't say it," she ordered. "It will only hurt you more when I tell you what I need to say."
Sitting up a little, worry already clogging his throat, Myron stared at her. She couldn't look at him, at the pain, terror, anguish, and love in his deep brown eyes.
"Myron," she whimpered, "I..have to...no, I can't!"
Grabbing her clothes, she faced away from him. "Get out!" she cried. "Please..I have to be alone...."
"I'll never leave you again," Myron vowed, holding her wrist. "Please, I love you!"
Like a whip she spun around and slapped him full across the face. "I made myself a promise that I would never love a soldier! I can't do this to you, Myron! We can't do this to ourselves!" she screamed.
"I don't understand!" he stammered, faced with the full impact of her rage. "I love you!"
"The chopper was taking me home! Don't you understand Myron, I was leaving Nam!" she covered her face. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"
He felt like somebody had punched him in the gut. How could he be so selfish? "I'll find you," he said quietly, not sure of his voice. "Wherever you are, I'll come for you. So we can be together forever.
You're my angel."
"Forget you ever met me, Myron. It wouldn't work. You're a soldier. You might..." her voice caught in her throat. She couldn't finish. It was too horrible to think about.
He turned her face to him gently. "Remembering you will keep me alive," he whispered and folded her on his arms. "But if you don't want me I shall surly die."
Cherie collapsed against his muscled chest. She could no longer resist his love. "I'll always be your angel," she sobbed.
He smiled into her gossamer blonde hair that smelled like roses. "Are you sure you didn't take a piece of my heart when you saved my life?" he simply said as her rosy lips found the scar over his heart.
"I think our hearts must have joined forever."
Once again they became one.
The platoon assembled on the helicopter pad that afternoon to give Cherie Sutton the send off that such a brave nurse who sacrificed her own happiness to save soldiers deserved. They all saluted as Goldman walked her to the chopper. But Cherie hardly even noticed them because all she could see was the wonderful man walking beside her.
"Don't ever lost faith. I promise I will come to you," Myron held her in his arms for what may be the last time for years. "This damn war can't last forever. I won't be over here forever."
"You better not be." Cherie demanded. "Promise?" She stared sexily at him. How could he refuse the sapphire eyes of his sweet angel?
She got on and sat down. The chopper rose in the air. Then it flew away. Taking Myron's heart with it.
McKay walked over and said, "That's one hell of a lady."
Myron blinked away a tear. "That's my sweet angel."