Peter, the recruit by thadeusz

---

I warn the reader : the author has decided to cheat a little bit with the usual rules of this forum.
----------------------------------------------------------
My name is Peter Gorman. But my name is misleading. In fact my parents wanted very much to have a boy and my mother was already 41 when she finally got pregnant. My parents lived on a small farm far from everything. That’s where my mother gave birth for the first and only time.

It was the only time because she died while giving birth to me. My father was dreadfully sad and stuck to the first names they had chosen together: he called me Peter Andrew, did not get me baptized because he did not believe in religion. But he declared my birth at the very distant town hall. That’s why all my papers are established as follows : "Peter Andrew Gorman son of Karl Gorman and Maria Leral (deceased)"

My father did not send me to school, nor did he call a doctor to take care of me: he played the role of father, mother, doctor, teacher, trainer and … of barber !!! All that together.

We remained in our little farm in the woods. Father treated me well: I was his only son. He also cut my hair regularly, using manual clippers: we did not have much electricity in our parts of the woods. Nevertheless father cut my hair rather short and since I could not compare with other boys of my age, I considered this as perfectly natural.

One day, father came back from the market with a van and in the van, there was a horse. A beautiful black horse. Father taught me how not to be afraid of that huge animal (huge for me). He showed me how to climb on the horse’s back and how to ride the animal which I named "Star" because of a little star he had on his front. Father already had another horse, named "Peril" for reasons I still ignore. Father used Peril to plow our little land. As of that date, he started to take rides with me in the woods and near the fields.

One day, a big official letter arrived. This letter was for me: it informed me that I had to go to the nearest Army barracks to accomplish my military service. This military service still existed in my country, but only for boys.

Father tried to convince me not to go to the barracks, saying that the people in town were savages and would destroy my wonderful "savageness" as he said. But I wanted to see other people, other young people. So on the date specified in the letter, I put on my best pair of trousers and my nicest jacket. I said "goodbye" to my father, telling him not to worry and I left by foot, as usual, for the nearest town.

There I easily found the local Army barracks and I showed them my letter. They wanted to see my ID and I showed them an old document with a picture of me as a very young boy. They decided to make a completely new military ID and they took a picture for that purpose. Before they took the picture, they sent me to the barber. This one was a military barber provided with a set of electric clippers. The shaving process was rapid, neat and I liked it. The barber placed a green cover on my nice clothes and started by pushing his clipper from the middle of my front to the base of my skull. His clipper was on and made a lot of noise. I had never seen electric clippers before. The barber’s movements reminded me of the movements father had told me to do when plowing a field. The barber was dressed in a uniform which looked nice and comfortable. On his sleeves he had to stripes and I could not resist asking him:
"Sir, please, what are these stripes on your sleeves ?"
He did not interrupt his plowing but replied with a stern voice:
"They show that I am a Corporal and that you must obey all my orders."
"That’s good, I have been raised to obey orders."
"You were raised by an Army chap ?"
"No, Sir. My father is a farmer and he had very strict principles. I was raised with them ! Sir."
"Good, you will like your time in the Army, but stop calling me ‘SIR’, I am only a Corporal."
"OK, Corporal."
"Here you don’t say ‘OK’ to a superior. You only say ‘At your command’, or nothing."
"At your command, Corporal. Was it OK to say ‘Corporal’ at the end ?"
"YES, my boy, but the ‘OK’ stuff must definitely be banished. By the way, what’s your name, boy ?"
"Peter Gorman, Corporal."
"Good, Peter, we are going to make a good soldier of you."
"I will do my best, Corporal"
During all that discussion, the Corporal had passed his clippers first in the middle of my head, as I already described, but then he made nice parallel furrows like those father had taught me to make in the field using my plough. In order to do that, he first pushed my head slightly on my left shoulder and then, he turned it and pushed it on my right shoulder. He provoked similar movements of the head in order to shave easily and efficiently my right side and then my left side. Finally he pushed my chin on my chest and finished plowing, or shaving as you want, the back of it. He told me then:
"Boy, stand up, make an about turn and look in the mirror."
I did as I was told and I noticed that I was now completely bald, which suited me. I was really enthusiastic.

The Corporal ended this session by telling me his name: Robert Vander. He also added an advice:
"Boy, you look so young and so frail, the others might try to hurt you. Should that be the case, come to me and I will arrange the things personally. And stop saying ‘Corporal’ at the beginning or the end of every sentence. You can avoid that. But be careful with the others: you look very young and you don’t have a beard yet."
"Is that a problem for the Army ? I would really like to join and be accepted for my military service."
"Don’t be afraid of the administration. They know nothing. But be careful of the other boys in your room."

Corporal Vander told me that he had a little bit of free time, so he took me directly to the clothing department. I received a ton of new clothes and was told to go to a little cabin where I could try them. They fitted perfectly and I was finally dressed in a nice uniform like the Corporal, stripes excepted.

The Corporal told me that I was really a perfectly dressed soldier and he took me to another department where they finally took my picture. I should say a picture of the ‘new me’. Everything was done rapidly using a computer, something I had never seen before.

I was as of now "Private GORMAN Peter, Matricule 702.549". I was supposed to remember that rank and number, and to mention it each time I started speaking with a superior.
The Corporal led me to the Medical Examiner’s office. This was an old soldier, an officer told me the Corporal. This old man had many stripes on his sleeves … and bad eyes protected by glasses. He told me to go in one of the cabins in order to urinate in a little pot. This would be used to check if I ever had toxic or unauthorized drugs, which or course was not the case. There were several other tests : vision, height, weight (with my underwear only) and a short discussion about what I could eat and not: no problem for me, I loved eating whatever it was father prepared and I drank only water. After this very rapid medical exam, I was sent back to my room where a bed had been assigned to me.

I spent my first Army night alone in this big room provided with beds for 20, 10 double beds, 5 on each side. In any case, the room was much bigger than my room in our farm. The windows were big and had no drapes, which was usual for me.

The next day, I was woken up very early by a buggle. In fact this buggle made a dreadful noise when I was already up, washed and dressed. After all, until that day, I was a farmer. I tried to call my father and tell him that everything went well and that I liked being a soldier, for my military service at least. But I did not have access to a phone … and I was not sure father would answer my call: he was probably already busy with the cows. So I started to write him a letter, taking a piece of paper on my lap and using a pencil which I had succeeded to keep after changing clothes.

A Corporal appeared and I recognized his rank by the stripes on his sleeves, but I did not know how to call him, so I simply said:
"Private GORMAN Peter, Matricule 702.549. Good morning Corporal."
Brutally he replied:
"Here you salute first, you speak later and you do all that standing as soon as a superior enters the room."
I stood immediately up and apologized saying that I was new and did not know all the rules. The Corporal replied:
"You look already well in your uniform and your bed is perfectly made. So I assume that you are already a good soldier. But you made a mistake by not saluting and another mistake by not standing up. For that you must be punished. Do you know what a push-up is ?"
"Yes, Corporal, my father expl…"
The Corporal interrupted me and simply said:
"Give me 50. And after that start cleaning this room, Private."
I dropped to the floor, started to give 50 push-ups but he left the room. I did not know what I should do, so I continued the push-ups and then I started cleaning the room.

Slowly, other new recruits entered the room, still in civilian clothing. I had after all the benefit of some kind of privilege: that’s probably because I arrived early. The new ones went, one after the other, to the barber, the doctor, the clothing room and the identification place like I had done.

Finally, there were 20 new soldiers in the room and the Corporal who had given me the 50 push-ups came back to give us our first instruction. It was a good day. We ran more or less in all corners of the barracks and we learned to do it in an orderly way. We also learned to salute and how to introduce ourselves. We went for a short lunch and I finished first because I always ate fast. We learned the name of our instructor: Corporal Marel. He was more a tormentor than Corporal Vander, although the others considered the barber as a dreadful person. Finally, Corporal Vander made me do 5 push-ups. I saluted him perfectly, took the position and without uttering a word I did what I had been told. Corporal Marel ended this by saying:
"Private Gorman already knows the rules and behaves well. He is in line for a fast promotion."

After that we had some free time, followed by washing time and rest.

I decided to take a shower and for the first time my companions could see me in the nude. They realized that, in fact, I am a woman. A female of our species ! They started to hiss and I simply replied:
"My name is Peter. I have been declared as a male child and nobody since that day reacted. You are NOT going to stop me from doing my duty by serving our Army for two years."
After that, I got dressed once again in the uniform I had started to love.

One of the boys, Robert Callum, said:
"But you must be weak, after all you are a lady and you cannot do what we do."
I was really angry and started to shout:
"Of course I can. I have been raised on a farm, as a boy farmer. How much strength do you think you need to hold a cow who tries to go away ? How much strength do you think you need to lead the plow when oxes are pulling it ? How much strength do you think you need to keep horses in the right direction ?"
I was furious but Corporal Marel entered our room and asked what was happening. I saluted and replied:
"Corporal, I was shouting because one of my comrades said that I must be weak."
"You are not weak, that’s visible. Anyway a soldier who salutes so well on his second day and who was able to give perfectly 50 push-ups on his first day, that is someone I respect. Now, lights out for all of you."

We went to bed and I chose to sleep in the nude because it seemed more comfortable.

In the middle of the night, with the moon as only light (remember there were no drapes), one of the boys tried to make love with me. I had never done that, and I considered it as a rape (I had read about rapes without knowing exactly what it was, and with father who refused to explain).

Anyway, I reacted very rapidly and punched the rapist on his nose, which I clearly heard breaking, like the noise of a goat breaking her leg. I was furious and I did not stop there: I kept throwing punches to my enemy in order to punish him.

All the people in our room had realized that a fight was going on … and that I was the obvious winner.

The next morning, once again, I woke up early and did everything I had to do: washing, getting dressed and getting my bed made according to regulations. I did not start to clean the room: according to me, it was another one’s turn to do it. That’s when we all heard the bugle and immediately after that Corporal Marel entered the room. My aggressor of the previous night was still laying on his cot, conscious but not mentally ready to function that day. Corporal Marel immediately saw the broken nose and the bruises. He asked:
"Who did that ?"
I stepped forward, saluted the Corporal and simply said:
"I did it, Corporal"
"Why did you attack this poor innocent chap ?"
I started to answer but Private Callum, the guy who had told me that I would be too weak for the job, stepped forward, looked at me and did as I had done: he saluted the Corporal and started to speak as such:
"Corporal, our companion laying on his cot attacked our other companion. She defended himself perfectly well and was in his rights when she broke the other one’s nose."

Corporal Marel started thinking. Callum had been very brave while defending me, but his tongue slipped twice, when he said "she". Corporal Marel turned towards me and simply said:
"Private Gorman, take all your clothes off."
I obeyed this order and it was thus obvious for all that I was a woman, and as such not fit for a soldier’s job. Marel went on:
"Get dressed and tell me, do you like being here as a soldier?"
"Yes, Corporal."
"Did this soldier try to rape you ?"
"I think so, Corporal."
"What do you mean with ‘I think so’, Private Gorman ?"
"Well Corporal, I never had sex before but I know what it is. This Private tried to force me to have sex with him during the night and I did not want to."
The Corporal looked at all of us and said:
"You all now, wait here. No breakfast for you. I want two volunteers to take this rapist to the brig."

We all waited in silence. Much later, long after normal waking up time, a Private brought silently a tray with bread and coffee mugs. We all remained silent but we ate and drank.

Later, much later, an officer came into our room. He started asking me questions:
"Private Gorman, you are obviously a female and women don’t do their military service. So why are you here ?"
"I received an official letter which summoned me to come and do my military service, Sir."
"WHY ?"
"Because, I think, for all official purposes, I am a male. And all males of my age are called to accomplish their military service, Sir."
"All males who are really FIT. And stop saying ‘SIR’ every other sentence."
Private Callum started to take my defense:
"Sir, with your permission. Private Gorman has proven that she is fit for the fight. What else does the Army require ?"
The officer left our room after telling us to stay there until further notice.

We waited for long hours, doing nothing. Around noon, we received a sort of lunch packet and lots of water, no beer, no coffee. And we remained waiting. My comrades started to be impatient and accused me of trying to cheat. One guy even told me:
"You tried to cheat the system. This military service is already boring. Why did you try to cheat ?"
"Simply because I obey all legal orders and because I did not know that girls were considered as unfit citizens."
"So you admit you knew you were a girl ?"
"Of course, that’s obvious for any sane individual. But I have been registered as a male at birth and I received my orders like you all did. I respect the law, but I ignored that there was a sexual segregation in our country."
Callum, the permanent savior, interfered to help me:
"But there was a medical exam ?"
"Of course, but the Doctor did not stop me ! He declared me fit."
After that we remained silent. It was 100% boring.

Suddenly, the Colonel commanding the base entered our room. He first asked me:
"Private Gorman, do you wish to remain a soldier despite the law which does not force you to do so?"
"SIR, I wish to be treated exactly like my comrades of the same age and to be allowed to defend our country if needed."
The Colonel sighed and said:
"Peter Gorman has been declared at birth as a male. He behaves as such. He is proud of his uniform and I compliment this soldier for defending him-self, sorry, herself in the best way: by brute force when needed. We thus decided that you can stay, Peter Gorman. But you will have to sleep in another room. That will not stop you, considering your strength, to do exactly the same exercises as your male companions. You will be judged following the same criteria, and if you fail one exercise, you will be expelled like any other bad soldier. But I don’t think that you will fail."

All my comrades started to applaud this short discourse and we all went together for our first normal meal of the day.

I had to move my things to another, smaller room where I was alone. There was no incident during the rest of the instruction. The Corporal was constantly near me, or looking at me like a true protector. But my real protector was Robert Callum: this other private managed to never be far from me.

At the end of the instruction, I was promoted to Lance Corporal. The Colonel had these nasty words followed by excellent ones:
"This promotion finally justifies the fact that you have a private room. But I must admit that you were really the best during this instruction period. Privates, learn from her: she is really an excellent soldier."

During all this period of time, I went every week to the Corporal Barber in order to keep the bald look which he gave me on my first day: I liked it and I considered that it gave me a more "soldier like" look. I also liked the few minutes of rest I could have while he shaved my head. Corporal Vander never said a word about my sexual identity: for him, I was only Private Gorman and that was enough.

But after I graduated from basic instruction, he energetically refused to give me a baldy:
"Gorman, you are a Lance Corporal now and you have already one stripe. There must be something which the other soldiers will immediately distinguish in order to obey your orders, if needed."
Nastily I said:
"Dressed or naked ?"
"Now you are stupid, Gorman, I meant in uniform. The rest is your private life."
So I came to accept having "only" a very short buzz cut created by the artist that Corporal Vander could be. I was of course the only one in my platoon with such a haircut. My fellow soldiers were still "sentenced" to have a baldy.

I spent some time writing to my father or calling him on the phone, but I did not like to stay alone in my little room. I spent most of my time with my fellow soldiers, those from the same levee. I liked one in particular: Robert Callum, but I did not say so. We had two years to serve together and I knew that would be it.

Slightly before the first anniversary of my arrival in this male Army, I was called by the Colonel in his office. He simply said:
"Our government has finally decided to accept women in the ranks. We desperately need good feminine soldiers to help train these new recruits. I immediately thought that you could do the job, under the leadership of Corporal Marel who told me he admires your military skills. That implies two things : you would be promoted to Corporal before your normal time but you would also have to enlist, this time as a volunteer, for five years. You have two days to think about this proposition. DISMISS."

I did not really know what I should do, so I called father. This wise man simply said:
"Do you like being a soldier ?"
"Yes, father."
"Then accept this offer. Your mother would be proud of you."
"But, I won’t be able to see you often."
"Listen, my son, little birds must start to fly alone. They must also try to find a companion for the rest of their life: I won't be here forever and you will need someone who will stay with you, whatever his or her gender."

That nearly convinced me, but I wanted another piece of advice. I asked the same question to my best friend in my platoon: Private Robert Callum.
Robert listen to me and said:
"Listen Lance Corporal, you really want this job and you are the best person they can find for it. But in one year, I will again be a civilian and that pleases me. Will you, Corporal, accept to get married, then, with the civilian I will be ?"

That’s how, after a certain time, Mister Robert Callum and Corporal Peter Gorman got married, and this was NOT a same sex marriage. I was then in my ceremony uniform !

I am now SGT Peter Gorman and I still like my first name. I am also the mother of two delicious children: a boy and a girl. They spend a lot of time at the farm, with my father. But, when I walk with them, in my strict uniform and my H&T, holding the hand of my engineer looking husband, people look at us and start whispering. We don’t care any more !

---