A white lace body stocking came next, full of frilled satin across the low neckline and across the shoulders. A suspender belt followed, deep cut and with some kind of stiffeners slipped through it to form panels. I noted the six suspenders almost without registering them.A full wig felt so soft to my fingers that it ran like water through them. The same soft brown as my own hair but much longer than mine. Finally a pair of open toed white sandals with cross over straps that looked as though they would reach and fasten with small silver buckles above the ankles. The heels were at least four inches though the detail at that time didn't really matter."Put them on for me Mark, let me see you dressed in them."Again the words seemed distant, yet so very close at hand. My concentration was drifting back and forward, half feeling I wanted to, half knowing that I shouldn't. And yet, no one would know would they? I was safe and secure, call it an experiment into, into what exactly? It. Take it.”She looked at the can of beer in my hand, and then she briefly glanced at me.“You’re OK,” I said. “I am the company commander.”She took in a deep breath and then forcefully exhaled. She took the beer from my hand and took a drink. It was an ice-breaker moment.“You can take off your cap,” I instructed.“Top says I have to keep my hair pinned up and under the cap,” she replied, referring to our company first sergeant by his nickname, “Top.”“Top,” I replied, “is not riding with us.”She took in another deep breath and then forcibly exhaled.“Fine,” she replied, pulling off her cap, her long brown hair falling downward.“I like your hair,” I said.“It needs a good shampooing,” she said, hand-brushing her fingers through her golden-brown locks.Our conversation was rather light and easy-going. We chatted about her civilian job and where she thought she’d be in ten years. I asked why she had joined the National Guard and she said it was purely for the easy money, and because her dad had.
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