I had almost a full squad with him but they were all innocuous looking fellows with an air of obedience to the rule of a far distance King. The British soldiers manning the crossroads checkpoints were not interested in any of them and had eyes only for the female pedestrians that passed their way. It seemed likely that most of the females would be tempted to entertain the prospect of a standing hump with a uniformed soldier as both exciting and dangerous even in the shadows of a public thoroughfare.I watched them cut out a pretty little thing with blonde curls and stand her in the shadows of the closed church and do her from behind one at a time with not much fuss and bother since the girl was not fairly silent about the entire affair. I wondered why she was being so compliant and then I saw the little girl waiting at the checkpoint for her mama to come back from playing with the nice soldiers in the redcoats.Needless to say I was filled with a black rage that comes on me at times. He smiled and said, “I’m sure you haven’t.” I told him that I liked girls and was not open to anything other than friendship with him. He told me he figured as much. The story of my flight from the shower room had made the rounds already. I was evidently straight, open-minded, and scared shitless of women seeing me naked. I nodded my head. Over lunch I decided to be blunt. “Brett, what’s it like to be gay?” He asked me what it’s like to be straight, and I didn’t have an answer. “Well, it’s what I am.” “Same thing here,” Brett said.” It’s what I am.” Hmmm, what do I say now? Brett told me he had pretty much always known he was gay. He didn’t come out until his senior year of high school. He was afraid that everyone would hate him and his friends would leave him. He had been going out with a girl to keep up pretenses and told her first. “Of course you are, honey,” she told him. “Everybody already knows.” It turned out to be true. Brett was six-three and had played basketball. He told.
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