Soldier of Missfortune 5 by Angharad Copyright © 2011 Angharad All Rights Reserved.

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It took a while to get my mother sorted, she’d fainted fortunately falling onto the sofa before rolling gently on to the carpet, by which time despite the tight skirt on my dress uniform, I’d got across the floor and helped her back onto the couch.

I sent my dad out for water and he came back with a glass which he shakily handed to me . I placed it on the floor and talking to my mum and stroking her hand I brought her round, her eyes flickering before she opened them fully and peered at me. She sipped the water I helped hold for her.

“Sorry if I gave you a bit of a shock, Mum.”

“Is that really you, Alex?” she asked with a quavering voice.

“Yes, Mum, it’s me.”

“What have you done to yourself?” she asked and burst into tears.

I could understand why she was upset–it must have been a shock registering about 9 on the Richter scale–I did look a bit different–I mean my chest now gets to places about two seconds before the rest of me.

I tried to give her a hug, but my dad intervened. “I think you’d better go,” he said and I wanted to cry as well.

“Why? It’s me, Alex–I live here remember?”

“Not any more–and don’t come back here looking like that. I don’t know what you think you’re doing–in my day the army would have kicked you out–not pandered to your perversions. This bloody human rights business has gone stupid.”

“Dad–please...”

“Just go and leave us in peace.”

I started to protest but Colonel Stone grabbed my arm and said, “Come along, Alexandra, I think we’d better go.”

“But I wanted to expl...”

“Maybe another time, your mother doesn’t look up to it today.” With that I was almost dragged outside and back into the car.

“What did you tell them?” I demanded of Stone.

“Just that you were doing a job for us and that your appearance had changed somewhat.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Montgomery, I happen to be your commanding officer, I don’t set out to upset the families of my men–or women–it affects their morale–which affects their performance.”

I didn’t believe a word of it–the way they responded–especially my dad, it appeared to me that he told them this was all my idea–like I was some sort of gender bender that the army was humouring because of the Strasbourg Court. The look I gave him told him that.

He looked at his watch–“Okay, driver, I spotted a nice looking pub back a couple of miles–let’s go and get something to eat and perhaps a drink for little Lexi here.”

I sulked all the way to the pub. Sitting in a corner, I sipped the glass of wine having downed a brandy before it. The booze went straight to my head and I sat back on the seat–one of those corner unit things they have in pubs–and nodded to sleep. They let me snooze for about twenty minutes–then woke me to have something to eat.

I opted for a jacket potato and while Stone went to order it the woman driver said, “I didn’t realise you were a transsexual–you look pretty real to me.”

“Is that what he told you?”

“Yeah, I wouldn’ta guessed otherwise.”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not a tranny?”

“No.”

“Oh, well that’s alright then, innit?”

“That man is a moron,” I said just before he returned.

After we got back to the base I realised what he’d done and I could have killed him. He was making sure I didn’t leg it. By alienating my parents, it reduced the number of contacts I’d have if I did do a runner. Cunning he might have been–human–I had increasing doubts–the man was a machine.

I sat on my bed wondering how best to try and repair the damage to my relationship with my parents–I doubted that they’d talk with me even on the phone–and they didn’t do email, which was a shame, so it would have to be good ol’ snail mail.

I began writing what was probably the most difficult thing I’d ever written, even tougher than my A-level physics paper.

‘Dear Mum and Dad,

I don’t know what Colonel Stone told you but it probably wasn’t the truth. I’m not a transvestite or transsexual or any of those gender confused types, I’m still me, your son, Alex. I’m only looking like this temporarily because the army wants me to do a special job for them undercover and I have to pretend to be a woman. They’ve had to give me special training as well, which has been weird but interesting. I suspect I’ll think differently about women in the future.

I know it sounds far-fetched, but all the things they’ve done are supposed to be reversible–least that’s what they told me. I wanted to see you because this job is dangerous and I might not make it back in one piece. I’m sorry that things got misconstrued–I hope we can sort it all out when I get home again.

Your loving son,

Alexander.'

I went to bed and slept badly, seeing my mother collapse again and again and hearing my father order me out of my own home. That was so hurtful. I hoped my short but informative letter would resolve some of the issues.

The next day I put the letter in an envelope and dropped it in the post box at the base–which was a mistake-it was intercepted and what was sent instead was a note from Colonel Stone and a forgery of my letter using my handwriting as a guide to the forgery.

‘Dear Mr & Mrs Montgomery,

I’m sorry that meeting up with Lexi, as she likes to be called, was rather traumatic, but she insisted she wanted to see you to show you her new lifestyle.

In accordance with the army’s efforts to meet the government standards of equality and diversity, we now accommodate lesbian, homosexual and transgender personnel as much as we can, providing they are able to continue their existing jobs.

Lexi is a very good technician and we very much want to keep her in our employment, and of course are sympathetic to her transition to female, which she has apparently wanted for some years and this has been encouraged by her boyfriend Steve, who is also supportive of her.
I’m sure in the fullness of time, you’ll become accustomed to having a rather attractive daughter, but meanwhile if we can help with any issues arising, don’t hesitate to contact us.

Yours sincerely,

Col. Stone

The army is an equal opportunities employer, regardless of race, religion, gender or sex orientation.'

~~~~~

‘ Dear Mum & Dad,

I’m sorry we didn’t get to talk when I came to see you. What I wanted to say was that I’ve wished I was a girl as long as I can remember. I told this to my C.O. a few months ago and he sent me to see the M.O. and after some checking, they agreed I could start living and dressing as a woman without losing my job–good isn’t it.

So far I’ve had a few bits and bobs done to me, including breast implants and my vocal chords altered–that was really funny at first–I sounded like Minnie Mouse–it’s a bit better now, although I still sound a bit like a little girl rather than a woman.

I have to live for at least a year as a woman before I can have the operation to make me fully the woman I’ve always wanted to be. I hope you’ll understand and perhaps we can resolve our differences before too long.

Your loving daughter,

Lexi.'

~~~~~

Of course I didn’t see either letter but I did see the response from my father which cut me to the quick.

‘Dear Alexander,

Your mother and I have discussed this matter and have decided we want nothing more to do with you.

Please do not attempt to contact us again, our hearts are broken.

Yours,

Henry and Joyce Montgomery.'

After reading this I felt suicidal. I got totally blasted on cheap wine and wanted to kill myself after killing Stone. I won’t go into detail but he humiliated me by disarming me–I had a kitchen knife–quite easily, then he put me over his knee and spanked me. I vomited all over his carpet–served him right. I was then taken to the guardroom and locked up over night. I felt really ill the next day and they had to cancel my training–I stayed in bed with four hourly checks being made on me–presumably in case I fell off my high heels or onto a sharpened eyebrow pencil.

I spent a lonely night wondering what had been said to my parents that they’d ignore my side of things–I felt totally bereft–the two people I’d have thought would have stuck by me through thick and thin had abandoned me, because I apparently looked like something I’m not. It just wasn’t fair–I was being used and abused and no one loved me any more except that dickhead Blomquist. Despite his wanting to use me as much as the others, I’d have given anything to have felt his arms around me that night.

The next morning, I didn’t feel like getting up but they banged on my door and told me to make myself presentable, wear my uniform and get some breakfast. They didn’t state which uniform, so I opted for the day wear one–shirt, trousers and jacket–apart from the fact that they were all women’s, I should have been wearing those all the time anyway–not bloody high heels and cleavage showing tops.

I went for breakfast and was told I was wearing the wrong uniform–they’d meant my best kit. I wolfed down a cup of coffee and grabbing a bacon roll ran back to my room and quickly changed trying not to get grease from roll over the gabardine cloth.

I presented to the briefing room and realised I’d forgotten my makeup–dashed back to my room again, threw on some slap and scurried to the briefing room once more, quite a feat in a tight skirt.

There was no one there. Maybe I’d got the venue wrong–I went to the office. “Hiya Lexi–he’s waiting for you–and he’s not in a good mood–you’re late by the way, which might have something to do with it.”

I knocked on Stone’s office and was bid enter. I pushed open the door, and Stone was sitting there in uniform, of itself an unusual event, along with another officer, also in uniform. I saluted and stood at attention.

“At ease, Montgomery.” I stood easy, hoping my cap wouldn’t fall off, it felt precarious perched on my tied back hair–okay some of it was wig.

“You sent for me, sir?”

“Yes, an hour ago.”

“I’m sorry, sir, I was waiting at the wrong room.” A part lie but I could live with that.

“What are we going to do with you, Lexi?” He shook his head.

“I don’t know, sir–send me back to my unit?” That was apparently the wrong answer.

“I don’t know if they’d cope with a transsexual colleague–do you?” The look on his face brooked no argument, so I agreed with him, although I wasn’t transsexual and he knew it.

The other bloke, a Major Reynolds, was startled by this revelation.

“But, Colonel, you said you had a woman who could find and reprogram Gemini, Delta and Grapeshot–not a bloke in a dress.” Despite my annoyance at being called transsexual–being described as a bloke in a dress annoyed me even more.

“Permission to speak, sir?” I said to Stone.

“Carry on, Lexi.”

“With due respect to Major Reynolds, I can do the job and I find his remarks insulting.”

“Corporal Montgomery, I don’t give a rat’s arse what you think of my remarks. I was sent here to see a woman perform the tasks we required–and I’ve been handed a bloke in a skirt.”

“Did you realise I wasn’t the real thing until the colonel told you?” I challenged, unconcerned that I was breaching protocols.

“No, that, I’ll give you.”

“I’m pretty sure that if the colonel hadn’t said anything, you’d never have discovered it.”

“Okay, so you fill the uniform pretty well, but the role requires a bit more depth than wearing a skirt and makeup.”

“I think I’m up to your challenge, sir.”

He paused and looked at me. “You can do the technical bits?”

I nodded.

He pondered for a moment. “Dinner tomorrow, at my house. Colonel, if you’d be so good as to bring your wife, and this creature. My wife and daughter will be there–both are very astute–if you can get past them as a woman–I’ll withdraw my criticism. Oh, wear something dressy but not uniform. If you get past this, we’ll arrange a demo of Domino.”

“Right, Lexi, I suggest you go and buy a posh frock and get your hair done or whatever it is that women do before a night out. I’ll pick you up at seven tomorrow night with my wife. Don’t be late then.”

“No, sir.” I saluted them both and left.

I was being challenged and I didn’t like Reynold’s remarks, they stung like barbed wire in my knickers. Damn it, I was going to charm them all, especially his wife and daughter.

I went back to the office. “That was short meeting, Lexi?”

“Yeah–which is the best hair salon, and can they do extensions?”

“Hair Today, is probably the best, I’ve got their card here somewhere.” She fumbled in her handbag, drew out her purse and handed me the card. “Want me to ring them?”

“Yes, I need an appointment tomorrow.”

“Whoa, tomorrow–extensions take hours and cost a fortune–it’s alright for a squillionaire like Cheryl Cole, but for us ordinary girls–it had better be something special.”

“Oh it is, I am going to piss off one total prick, something rotten.”

“Sounds good to me, not the old man, is it?”

“Not directly, a Major Reynolds?”

“Oh him–he’s a staff officer–watch it, he’d have you chained to the kitchen sink and having babies if he had his way.”

“Fine, at least I wouldn’t be in fear of my life then would I?”

“Oh c’mon girl, we’re all proud of having a woman technician being trained up for Special Ops.”

“But I’m not, am I?”

Sylvia, the woman to whom I was talking gave me a strange look and then looked at her colleague across the office. “Not what, Lexi?”

I paused–they knew what was going on–they’d seen me changing–hadn’t they? Or had they? It had happened so quickly after I got here. But she was Colonel Stone’s secretary. Surely she would know about my origins? I mean it’s so outlandish it would be all over the base in five minutes–wouldn’t it?

“I’m not Special Ops–I’m on secondment–and besides Reynolds seems intent on blocking my mission.”

“If you’ve been seconded–you're one of us, Lexi. Now about this ‘ere ‘air do...” she called and spoke to someone she obviously knew quite well. “Oh c’mon Shar, it’s doing me a favour as well–you will? You are soooo beautiful–right two, tomorrow–her name, yeah, it’s Lexi Montgomery–I’ll tell her. See ya.”

She put the phone down.

“I dunno what training that they had down for you tomorrow, all we get is training in the diary–it’s all too hush hush for us office wallahs–but I’ll cancel it. You need to be at the salon at two and be prepared for at least two or three hours.”

“You’re joking?”

“I’m not–it takes forever if they do it properly, and Sharon will do it properly–it’ll also cost you about two or three hundred.”

The time and the cost were beyond what I’d imagined–but then I didn’t have much idea of the price of things girly. I did now. I also had to find a nice dress and I at least had some ideas for that.

I took the afternoon off–it was only some computer course anyway–and I could do that again–the advantage of online courses. I caught the bus and wandered round the town centre trying to remember where I’d seen the dress shop, then I spotted it.

I casually entered the shop and began browsing their stock–I saw something in velvet, emerald green with red flecks–it probably sounds revolting–but I already had red shoes–yes, it was so outlandish, it would work assuming it fitted of course.

I tried it on and it fitted in all the right places and showed enough cleavage to be inviting but not overly so. Let’s face it, I had two outstanding features and the mood I was in, no one was safe from my charms. I splashed out the seventy quid for the dress and a shawl thing which matched the red to perfection. Now I had to get a bag and some beads, and some lipstick and nail polish to match. I was on a mission–never mind what they had in mind–I had my own target–Major Dickhead Reynolds.