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SNAFU part 1.

by Angharad

This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to any person living or dead is purely unintentional.

Much to my disgust, after the Middle East Campaign which was won by Britain and America against Islamic terrorists, but at some cost, Britain reintroduced national service. This meant each person on attaining the age of eighteen would be required to perform two years in the armed services or some other institution. I actually opted to serve in the hospital service as an auxiliary nurse, but for some reason, I was told that I would be serving with the Royal Army Medical Corps, as an orderly and to report for training.

I was dreading it. I am small and blond and was bullied very badly at school. My name is Curtis, James Curtis. Unfortunately, because my mother always called me ‘Jamie’, she is Scottish, I used to be ribbed at school and called ‘Jamie Lee’ after the American actress, or sometimes ‘Wanda’, after the comedy, ‘A Fish Called Wanda’, in which she starred.

Even the girls sometimes bullied me, most of them were as big, if not actually bigger, and they found it great fun to dominate me, as I was probably the only boy they could. I never told my parents what murder school had been, and when I found that one of the girls, Pam Davis, was going to the same unit I felt history could be about to repeat itself. Pam was ‘hell in knickers’. I was actually frightened of her because she had physically beaten me up and forced me to do something I still have bad dreams about now. She was about five feet ten inches, to my five four, and two stone or more heavier. On one occasion she nearly broke my arm, on another, she kneed me in the balls. I was eleven at the time, and I am sure it permanently damaged me. My balls are very small, as is my willie; I have hardly any pubic or underarm hair and my voice is still very high, never having broken.

I had, however, managed to get reasonable results in school academically, with three good A-levels, and I hoped to go to college or university when my national service was over. So my plans were to keep my head down for two years, avoid Pam like the plague, and get it all over as quickly as possible.

The date came around for my departure, and after my farewells, to my family, I walked to the station and used the travel warrant to go to my training establishment. The rail journey was uneventful and I read or looked out the window. Then by special bus to the camp, which rejoiced in the name of ‘Barbury Barracks and Training Camp’.

Having registered, I was told to store my luggage and make my way over to the mess for a meal, then assemble at the medical quarters at 14.00 hours. The food was good, but I wasn’t hungry. I’d already had a small contretemps with the registering corporal who suggested I was too young. I showed her my paperwork and birth certificate, and she shook her head saying I looked about twelve and, did my mother know I was out? Not wanting to make enemies this early, or in fact, at any time, I didn’t answer back.

At the medical, I was ribbed by the other lads who were all much bigger than I, but I ignored it. I was used to it. One of them called me ‘Goldilocks’, but I tried to ignore him although I felt myself blush. I knew this would happen and I just had to try and get through it. I kept telling myself, that it isn’t about size, it’s about attitude, and courage doesn’t depend on a big body. But at times it was so hard.

The doctor examined me but was concerned about my small stature and my very small scrotum. He did some blood tests, gave me some jabs and, passed me fit. At least that bit is over, I thought to myself. Although, it would have been better if he had failed and medically discharged me.

They had great difficulty in kitting me out, and to my astonishment and disgust, they had to get some of it from the women’s store. My small feet and hands meant ladies' boots and shoes, and the fatigues were also from the women’s store. Which meant they buttoned on the wrong side and had a bit too much room in the seat of the trousers. But no one else knew, I thought, so it may not be too bad. I was wrong, and it did get out.

Over the next few days, I ended up with nearly a full female uniform, except the formals or dress uniform, but then I wouldn’t need those for six weeks and they hoped to get something in for me by then. I felt like deserting on the first day, it didn’t get any easier.

We did lots of square bashing, marching up and down rain or shine. We had lectures on health and safety, basic rules, our training and duties, and what happened if we got things wrong. The consequences were not too nice. I decided I was going to do my utmost to avoid jankers. So for six weeks I did exactly as I was told, polished my boots and badge and while thinking it was all so mind-bendingly boring, I kept my nose clean.

The time came for our passing out parade, and I went to the stores for my formals. They handed me a large plastic bag, and I signed for them, the corporal on the stores telling me how many strings he’d pulled to get my stuff. I thanked him and rushed off to the barrack block and my dormitory. The others were changing as I arrived. I hurriedly tore open the bag, and let out a gasp, Mike Bendall in the next bunk to me, looked over to see what was happening, then began to laugh.

They had sent me a female uniform, with a tunic and skirt, blouse and shoes. I was so shocked that I nearly passed out. They were all laughing, and I just sat on the bed and began to cry. Mike put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it, ”Come on Jamie, it’s just a SNAFU* moment, remember it is the army.” (*Situation Normal All Fucked Up). I tried to be brave but this was just the last straw. Someone went off to speak to the drill sergeant, who would be our officer for the parade and he came in a moment later.

Once he stopped laughing, he stroked his chin and then told me to put the uniform on. I stood there, transfixed by what he said, paralysed. “Put it on Curtis”. So I did, with a dozen pairs of eyes watching me in disbelief. To my disgust, it fitted me with the exception of my flat chest, and I had no stockings.

With that, he told me to wait while he pulled out his mobile and began jabbering away as he walked out of the room. I felt a complete fool and a nervous titter ran around the rest of the room.

Ten minutes later, the sergeant reappeared with the corporal from stores, who was laughing his socks off. “Don’t grin like a monkey, Simmonds, one of my soldiers is going on parade improperly dressed, sort it.”

“But Sarge, I tried to tell you, we ordered this uniform a month ago, this is what they sent. I didn’t check it, as it was labelled for Curtis, it could only be one thing.”

“Just what one thing are we talking about?”

“Well his name, it had ‘Jamie Curtis’ on the bag, central stores must think he’s a woman. But we don’t have anything else to fit him. Can’t he just go sick?”

“He isn’t sick, is he?”

“No Sarge.” Replied the embarrassed corporal.

“So I want him on parade, and properly dressed.”

They left together talking, and the sergeant was heard to say, “I don’t care what you do, just do it.”

Ten minutes later, a squaddie from the stores arrived with a package for me. I had just come out of the showers and was wrapped in a towel. I signed for the package. When I opened it, I nearly fell over. Inside was a bra, a pair of tights and, a pair of knickers.

Attached was a note, which read,’ Sorry Curtis, it was the best we could do. Wear it, that’s an order.’

I put on all the clothes, much to the amusement of my colleagues. Thankfully the dark stockings hid the few hairs on my legs. There was a knock on the door and one of the boys answered it, in walked a woman corporal. “This lady wants you, Curtis.”

She took me and the rest of my uniform into a bathroom, “Come on Curtis, let's see what we can do for you.” She rolled up a pair of socks and shoved them in the bra, buttoning up the blouse, she adjusted my tie and I pulled on the jacket. “The skirt fits fine, did you manage the tights?” I nodded my reply. I had to show her, and she congratulated me.

Then she looked at my face, and said,” Well you’ve shaved nice and clean.”

“I don’t shave corporal ma’am.”

“What, oh well that’s even better. She put some makeup on my eyes, while I tried not to blink or cry. It was too embarrassing for words. Then some powder over my face, and finally a pink lipstick.”

She placed my cap on my head and stood back to admire her handiwork. “Yes, you’ll do fine.”

“Please corporal, please you can’t send me out like this.” I pleaded with her.

“Why not, are you improperly dressed ?”

“Yes, corporal.”

“Where?”

“I am wearing the wrong uniform.”

“I see, is this your name?” she asked pointing at the name tape.

“Yes, corporal.”

“Then this is your uniform, is it not?”

“Yes, corporal.”

“So how can you be improperly dressed?”

I just shook my head in disbelief. She led me out into the dormitory and the sniggers stopped. Instead, there were gasps of astonishment and a couple of wolf whistles. “If I hear of one of you clowns making life difficult for Curtis, I’ll have you on a charge.

"Curtis you will parade with the other women, come with me.”

As we crossed the square towards one of the female barracks, she told me that she had already spoken to one of the other NCOs and it was going to be fine. Instead of being nasty, the women were very helpful and for the first time, I actually felt amongst friends. I even managed to joke with the corporal there that, ”Had I known you were going to be so nice, I’d have transferred six weeks ago.” They all laughed supportively.

So surprising as it may seem, I paraded as a female soldier and received my badge and tapes from the commanding officer, who was I am told unaware of the farce his unit had created. However, the certificate I received was in the name of ‘Pte. Jamie Curtis.’ And believe it or not, some clever so and so amended all my records, so from here on in, Jamie stuck.

At the bun-fight afterward, which I tried to avoid I was surrounded by my male colleagues and forced back in. “You know Curtis, you look much better as a woman, are you sure you aren’t one?” said Bendall. Then with a laugh, he pinched my bum and pushed me into the room. The corporal from the stores saw me, rescued me and, handed me a handbag, “Here, “ she said,” put this over your shoulder, and you won’t stand out so much.”

Someone shouted, ”Postings” and everyone moved to see where we were being sent. I saw that I was going to an army hospital unit two miles away, and to my horror, I realised that some of their brass had been watching the parade. But then, surely they wouldn’t remember me, especially in my current disguise.

Just as I was thinking this over, a woman officer walked up to me. “You are Curtis?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Get your stuff, I’ll give you a lift over to the camp.”

“Thank you, ma’am, but I haven’t packed yet.”

“Well go and do it. I’ll give you ten minutes.” Seeing me hesitate, she added, “Go on, girl.”

I saluted and ran out as fast as my legs could carry me. This was a bad dream, it had to be.

I just managed to pack all my belongings in a couple of bags, and as I was struggling with them, “ ’Ere, I’ll give you a hand with those, love.” A squaddie I’d never seen before, grabbed both my bags and carried them more easily than I had, to the waiting car.

“Is that your boyfriend, Curtis?”

“ No ma’am.”

“Pity, quite good looking.”

As we drove, the captain explained she was in charge of nurse training. Waiting for an opportunity to interrupt. I started, “Ma’am, I think I need to tell you that there has been a mistake.”

“Oh yes, what sort this time?”

“Ma’am, I am not training as a nurse but a medical orderly.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, only men, train as orderlies.”

“Yes, ma’am, I know. I am a man.”

“Course you are.” Then the car screamed to a halt. “What did you just say?”

“I am a man, ma’am.”

“Then why are you wearing a female’s uniform?”

I related my story and she laughed and shook her head. “So let me get this right, you are too small for regulation men’s wear and have been wearing women’s for the past six weeks. That can’t be right, someone has been taking the piss, haven’t they? I can’t believe this. Anyway, until we can sort this out, I have you down as female, and due to start nurse training from tomorrow. You will be pleased to know that you would normally room with two other girls but we have one spare room at the moment. I’ll make the arrangements.”

The rest of the way, she smiled occasionally laughing and shaking her head. We arrived, and after registering as Curtis Jamie, female, trainee nurse, I was led off to the room Captain Brice had suggested. Thankfully, there was a bathroom next door, and hardly sleeping a wink, I was up early the next morning, washed, showered, and dressed before any of my colleagues.

I was still wondering about whether or not I would go for breakfast when Captain Brice arrived with a Major Collins. “At ease, Curtis.”

“Ma’am, Sir.”

“We have a little problem Curtis, it appears some clever dick has changed all your records, so we have you down as female. The problem is, we can’t change them back.”

“I’m sorry, ma’am, I don’t understand.”

“I have been on to records, that is central records, and they claim that you are female, have always been female and always will be. They will therefore not countenance any change without authorisation from the ministry.”

“What does that mean, ma’am ?”

“It means, that until I tell you otherwise, you are a female nurse trainee. So get yourself some more clothes, some makeup and, some toiletries. That bathroom will be yours alone. We’ll try and keep this quiet for now, but it won’t stay so forever. I don’t know if Major Collins has anything to add.”

“Essentially, what Captain Brice has said appears to be true, it is absurd but there you are, these things seem to happen. God knows how or why, but until you hear to the contrary, you are apparently female. So carry on.”

“Yes, sir, ma’am.”

“I’ll ask Corporal Henderson to come and see you, so wait until she gets here.” With that, they both left.

I could not believe what was happening, how could this be so. It was beyond absurdity, it was downright bizarre. It was absolutely bloody stupid. They may all be mad, but I wasn’t. I was not going to stand for it, I just wasn’t. Then after stamping my foot once or twice, I laughed, then sat on my bed and howled. I was still crying when Corporal Henderson arrived.”

“Right, sweetheart, we have to make you as presentable as we can for the rest of the team. “ With that, she again made me wear the bra and stuffed it with socks, then she found the makeup in my handbag and applied it. My hair was short but not like the US marines, and with a bit of careful combing, she made me seem slightly more presentable.

“This is ridiculous. How can anyone think I’m female?”

“From where I’m standing, I can quite easily believe it.”

“Yes, but that’s only because of the makeup and other stuff you’ve just done.”

“No it’s because nature has been kind to you, as far as this is concerned. You are small, have lovely skin and, a light voice. I can’t see an Adam’s apple, you have small hands and feet. A pair of boobs and a bit more around the hips and you’d be very female. And quite a pretty one at that.”

“Please, corporal, don’t say that.”

“Why not it’s true, and I think you know it. The boys will be around you as thick as flies.”

“No. This isn’t going to work. I can’t cope with men fancying me. I may not be very macho, but I am still a man.”

“Not from where I’m standing. Now stop this silliness, you are an attractive woman and you’d better get down to the mess and grab some breakfast. That’s an order, Miss Curtis.”

“Yes, Corporal.”

“Don’t forget your handbag.”

“Yes, corporal.”

Somehow I survived the morning session without detection. Thankfully it was primarily about induction into the school of nursing, timetables, getting more kit and, being introduced to the teaching staff. At lunch, I was told to report to Major Collins office.

“Come in, Curtis, sit down.” I did as I was told. “I have a medical report here from your basic training unit. You have a problem.”

“I do, sir ?” My tummy turned over.

“Yes. It seems that your testes aren’t working at all and should be removed as soon as possible because they can turn cancerous. You told Captain Smith you had been injured there.”

“Yes, sir, a girl in school kneed me in the ba... groin, sir,” I remembered it very well, the bitch.

“Right well, it seems we had better get you on some hormones quickly or you are going to have all sorts of problems with brittle bones. As for the orchidectomy,” he noticed my baffled look, “removing your testes, I can do that for you here, and probably best to get it over and done with. Have you eaten ?”

My mind was reeling. I was about to be orchiwhatevered, castrated, and he wants to know if I’ve eaten. I shook my head.

“Right pop across to the O.R. and I’ll be with you in a tick.” He pointed across to a door and I did as I was told. I was in something of a mist, my mind was reacting to instructions but I was lost to my own thoughts. I entered the ‘Operating Room’ and Captain Brice helped me undress and put on a robe. She gave me a pill to take. We chatted, but I don’t recall about what and, after a while, I felt more relaxed. She had given me a sedative.

Major Collins arrived, and I was placed on an operating table with a lithotomy stool under my bottom. I felt a jab in my hand and I remember nothing else. I awoke with Captain Brice rubbing my face and talking to me. “Hello Jamie, welcome back to the land of the living. It’s all over, we’ve dealt with your little problem and also done an implant for you, so you won’t get brittle bones. You may feel a bit sore down below for a few days and your arm may be tender. You have a few stitches we can remove in a week. You will be bruised and it may take a day or two to appear. It will be alright, it went very well and Major Collins is a wonderful surgeon.” She helped me up and I felt a bit dizzy but my head cleared quite quickly after a drink of tea.

“Technically, you are now a sort of in-between person…” as she faltered I interjected, “Eunuch is the technical term I believe.”

“Quite.” She replied. There was an uneasy silence for a few moments. “Look, Jamie. It needed to be done. They were doing no good and would have become cancerous if left. They had atrophied a great deal, I think my cat’s were bigger.”

I felt the absurdity of this last remark was not out of place in this almost unreal situation, so I laughed and so did she. However, I continued to laugh and laugh and laugh until the tears ran down my face, then I cried and cried and she held me. It was a moment of great tenderness and I was very grateful for it. I don’t know how long it lasted, it was timeless. I was escorted back to my room by Corporal Henderson, clutching my bag of painkillers, hormone tablets and, pads. I had to use sanitary pads inside my knickers in case of any bleeding seeping through the dressing, and it also gave me some protection.

Corporal Henderson was so helpful. She did some shopping for me after leaving me in my room. She got me some knickers and bras, some basic makeup and, a couple of nighties. I knew I would have to get some other things too, but they could wait. I slipped into a difficult sleep as I tried to come to terms with my new status. I had just arrived on the threshold of manhood and it had been removed because it was a falsehood, not a manhood. I could never have children, and probably my life was ruined. I almost wished I was dead, properly dead not this zombified life I was now undertaking.

Here I was, officially female which was barmy, or was it now. Somehow, it almost seemed right. It explained a few things, like my small stature and boyish voice, or was that girlish, voice? Was life carrying out some Kafkaesque game with me? Theatre of the absurd, don’t be silly, this is the British Army where everything makes sense to someone, it’s just that nobody knows who that somebody is. I knew for sure I didn’t.

I woke up sweating and sobbing. In my dream Major Collins was giving me a sex change operation, telling me that it was all fine now, and no one would ever know. I was a girl in reality as well as on paper. I was so confused, my head throbbed and I didn’t know what to do or think. For a moment, I wondered if the orchiwhatever was a dream, but I felt tender when my hand went down to my groin, and the soft throb in my arm told me the implant was real too. I took a painkiller and fell asleep again.

When I woke again, Kate Henderson was there with my shopping. She also showed me the big bunch of flowers my colleagues had sent when they heard I was unwell. I just burst into tears, and Kate held me while I cried. I was excused duties the next day, but I felt well enough to go to classes, so I did. The disinformation that was circulated was that I’d had a gynae emergency, and it was apparently, half speculated that I’d had an abortion on the quiet, after being raped by a squaddie. Kate told me this several months later, but we settled on a D and C as the official line.

After a week the stitches came out and the bruising was improving no end. Major Collins was very pleased with his handiwork. “It looks good Nurse Curtis, but it could look better.”

“I’m sorry, Major, I don’t understand.” I began to wonder if something was wrong.

“I wonder if you would let me try something which may help with your disguise which I read about on the internet.”

“Might I ask what?” I was a bit intrigued, what did he mean by my disguise?

“Sure. We have a bit of surplus skin here,” he said touching my scrotal sack, “ which we could use to hide this,” he pointed at my willie.

“It’s not a sex change you are talking about is it sir?” I was becoming a bit anxious.

“Good God no. Just a temporary job to hide this thing with a bit of glue.” He proceeded to show me that by wrapping the skin around my penis he had almost created a pudendum. “Okay ?” he asked, I nodded and within fifteen minutes I looked like a female. Well one without breasts, although my nipples seemed a bit sore of late, and I’d been sick that morning. When I got up off the table, it all felt a bit tight and tender, but otherwise fine, and I was able to pass urine, albeit sitting down for the foreseeable future.

My little coterie of those ‘in the know’ were delighted, and when I was given some surgical breast forms a few days later, which felt better in my bras, I was almost beginning to feel one of the girls. Major Collins had offered breast implants, but that frightened me, it seemed too permanent. Kate had suggested that I took up his offer and pressed me at every opportunity to do so. Eventually, on my long weekend off, I agreed and two hours later, I was very sore and rather too female looking for my own satisfaction. How on earth was I going to tell my family, because I certainly couldn’t hide my chest, even if I managed to get around the toilet arrangements?

The day later, when I surveyed the ‘damage’ in my bedroom mirror, I noticed that my waist seemed a little smaller or my hips were bigger. I had to wear a bra for a month to support the new breast weight, and seeing myself in just my bra and pants, no one could imagine I had ever been a male. My hair was growing, and my face was boyish or even girlish perhaps. My figure was becoming quite curvy. Bloody hell, I was a woman. Oh shit, shit, shit, bloody shit. What was I going to do now? I was stuck with it. It seemed that life was definitely trying to tell me something, but it wasn’t what I wanted to hear. How could this happen? How could an ordinary bloke, or someone who saw herself as such... what did I just think to myself, ‘herself’, where did that come from? I was so confused.

There was a knock on my door and in my daze, I just answered, “Yeah”, without thinking, and in walked Sharon. Sharon is an archetypal ‘Essex girl’, a bit loud, with a grating, estuarine accent but heart of gold.

“Wow girl, I dunno why you’re so shy ‘bout showers, you gotta bettah bod than what I got.” She was referring to my reluctance to use communal showers after sports practice. I began blushing.

“A couple of us is goin’ darn the boozer, yer comin’ swell ?” It took me a moment to understand what she had said.

“Is Kate coming ?” I was referring to corporal Henderson whom I treated like a big sister, and always felt happier if she was around.

“Dunno, but we’re off in ten. If yer comin’ be at the car then.”

I had very limited clothes, using jeans and tops most of the off duty time. “I don’t know Sharon, I have some letters to write.”

“You an’ yer bleedin' letters. I reckon yer afraid of boys ain’t yer? Dunno why wiv that body. Be like bees rarned a ‘unnypot, or flies rarned a cow’s arse if yer ask me. None of the rest of us’ll get a bleedin’ look in.”

“Thank you for the vote of confidence, Sharon, but if my dazzling body will overshadow all the rest of you, maybe I’d better stay here.” Then trying to seek an excuse, I added, “I’ve got one of my heads coming on.” It was a lie but one I had used before, as I rarely suffered any sort of headache.

“Are yer on then ?”

“What for this evening. No, I don’t think so.” I replied.

“No, yer bleedin’ dipstick. Are yer on, time of the mumf and, all that stuff?”

“Yeah, I think it’s about to start.” I lied again, if I had a period then it would make not only medical history but probably the Guinness Book of Records, under miracles.

“Oh allwight then, see yer later.” With that adieu, she was gone and I breathed more easily. I threw on a top and jeans and went down to the Naafi, to buy some tampons and pads, at least it would look as if things were happening of a menstrual nature. I grabbed my handbag, it was second nature, although in the beginning I had a habit of leaving it all over the place, and set off.

I saw the others pile into their car and drive off, we waved to each other as they went by. Going into the Naafi, I bumped into a man coming out, who was laden with cans of beer.

“Oh, I am sorry,” I said to him, bending over to pick up his dropped cans.

“That’s alright darling.” He replied looking down the front of my scoop neck top. I blushed when I realised how much of me he would have been able to see. He smirked at my embarrassment. “Any time you’d like to introduce me, I’d be delighted to meet them.” He chortled and was gone.

I wandered into the shop part, and almost forgot what I had come for. I was perusing the feminine hygiene products, although my mind was on the recent encounter with the soldier, so I was far away when I heard someone address me. I started.

“Sorry to make you jump, Curtis.” It was Major Collins. “I thought it was you. Look here, do you play chess?”

“Yes, sir, but I’m not very good.”

“Splendid, I might just win then. See you at my place in about half an hour. Don’t need to bring anything, just yourself.” And before I could say anything else he was gone.

I continued with my feminine hygiene products, grabbed some Tampax and a box of panty liners, some chocolate and, some paracetamol. As I paid for it, the woman behind me in the queue muttered quietly to me, “Be careful with that Collins bloke, he’s got a bit of reputation with the ladies. They reckon he’s screwed most of the nurses here.”

I almost laughed in her face. The one man I felt safe with was Major Collins, simply because he knew exactly what was what, and more importantly, what I was. One could say, he made me what I was, or to a large extent. Besides, he was the one man who also knew, that I had nothing between my legs except a bit of folded skin because he had done it for me. Instead of laughing at her, I just flashed the box of Tampax, and said, ”I think he’d be wasting his time tonight.” She just laughed, “Serve him bloody right.”

I took my purchases back to my room, opened the Tampax and, put a couple in my bag, just for effect. I spritzed a little ‘Opium’ eau de toilette around my throat and wrists and grabbed a light jacket and my bag and walked towards Major Collins House.

As he was the base’s Senior Medical Officer, he had quite a nice house on the edge of the camp. I had been there once before when he had all the first year nurse students to a small reception. His wife was there then, and I wondered if she would be tonight. As I walked, I became very aware of how vulnerable I was becoming. It was something that had entered my mind before but was increasing with every step I took. The night was falling and I became quite jumpy in the dark, shivering I drew my jacket tightly around me. I should have been safe, there were always people around, even armed sentries on the gates. So why was I so nervous? I didn’t know.

I was glad to get to Collins’ house and rang the bell. He opened it himself. “Ah Nurse Curtis, Jamie isn’t it ?”

“Yes sir.”

“Good, good. Do come in.” He bade me enter and offered to take my jacket, which I declined. “We’ll go into the study I think, it’s cosier. What’ll you have to drink, Scotch, Vodka, Martini, red or white, beer or lager ?” I opted for white wine.

I sat in a leather easy chair holding my wine in one hand and handbag in the other and feeling very nervous. Here I was in the house of my superior officer with, as yet, no sign of his wife. We both knew my real situation, but I was becoming aware of the effect I seemed to have on men. The close encounter outside the Naafi reinforced that. What if major Collins fancied me? I should have gone down the pub with Sharon.

In came the Major, “Drink alright, Jamie?”, he asked as he sat down in another chair after placing the small chess table between us. I felt safer with this little barrier there. “Are you still having the morning sickness?”

“No sir, that only lasted about a week.” I was so relieved when it stopped.

“You’re lucky, oestrogens can cause it to happen for weeks.” He smiled at me. I don’t know why I hadn’t twigged earlier, instead of putting me on male hormones, he had implanted female ones. Hence the sickness. Why had he done that, why not male ones, then at least I could have become more masculine. Then the penny dropped. I was female as far as the army was concerned, he was complying with that official line. It might have been nice if he had asked me first. I tried to understand how permanent all of this might be. My balls were gone, that was permanent, but what about the breasts, they could be removed I was sure of that, and I was pretty sure anything the hormones did for a year or two could be reversed eventually. So one day I might just become a man again. Was it again or for the first time? It began to seem to me, that I had never been more than a boy.

“A penny for them.”

“I’m sorry sir, I was just wondering what effect the oestrogens might have on me.”

“Depends on things called oestrogen receptors. If you are oestrogen responsive then things could change quite a bit, if not then just a bit of breast tissue and body fat about the place. Because your body didn’t produce enough androgens, it stayed in a neotenous position, which means it didn’t go through puberty so isn’t adult. Hence your small size. You may actually grow a little and your hips may broaden a bit, but essentially, your bones will complete ossification and harden up like an adult. There would have been little point in giving you testosterone, it would have made you more masculine and with your current position as supposedly female, it would have caused you more troubles than it was worth, which I am sure you appreciate.”

“Yes sir.”

“How are the boobs?”

“Fine sir, the bruising has reduced nicely with arnica, and I am getting used to having them sticking out in front of me. Can’t sleep on my tummy anymore though.”

He laughed at the last remark, “Quite. I only used smallish/medium ones because your body will probably have something to say in the finished articles.”

“What do you mean sir?” I was a bit slow here I knew, but I just wanted to make sure I understood what he was saying.

“Well, they could grow quite a bit more yet. Depends on how big your mother is and how many receptors you have.” I blushed when I thought about my mother, I had yet to tell her of my plight and she was quite well endowed in the breast and buttock area. Reversing all this may not be quite so straightforward after all.

We played three games of chess. I made some fundamental errors in each game and lost all three. “You seem distracted, Nurse Curtis.”
“Sorry sir, I’m just a bit tired.”

“I noticed your expression changed when I asked you about your mother. Is everything alright there?”

“Oh yes, sir.” I lied.

“Does she approve of having a daughter?”

“Yes sir.”

“What did she say when you told her?”

Oh bugger, he was getting into specifics. “She said she didn’t mind what I was as long as I was happy.”

“Typical mum eh, Curtis?”

“Yes sir.”

“You haven’t told her have you?”

“No sir.”

“Don’t you think you should?”

“Probably.”

“When did you last go home?”

“Not since basic training.”

“What’s that, three months?”

“Yes sir, thereabouts.”

“Do you get on well together?” His concern seemed genuine.

I felt my eyes start to well up, and a tear escaped as I replied, “We used to, but I don’t know how to tell her about all this. How do I tell her I’m now her daughter? I don’t understand why this had to happen, I don’t understand any of it. Why did it have to be me? What have I done to deserve it?” The floodgate opened, and after handing me some tissues, he put his arm on my shoulder and squeezed me. I didn’t know how to respond, so felt even more bewildered and sobbed.

For the next hour, we talked. Well, I did quite a bit of crying and he kept up a steady supply of tissues and glasses of brandy. Despite having made friends with the girls, I hadn’t been able to talk about my situation, my loss of role, and change in body image. The impact of never becoming a man, and of how I was going to adapt to becoming a woman if I ever did. What was I going to become? Would that mean a real sex change, or whatever? I hadn’t discussed it with anyone. I had lots of questions and quite a few fears, not least what would my parents say.

I realised how late it was becoming and I felt exhausted. I had poured out masses of my doubts and worries, resolving none, but at least I had started the process. I thanked him for listening, and as I stood up swayed under the affect of the brandy and the emotion. He grabbed me and steadied me, then hugged me. The tears began again.

Holding me, he said, ”You’d never have made a man, Curtis, you’re far too pretty. Enjoy being a woman.” With that, he kissed me and in my confusion I found myself accepting his kiss. “Right before I do something we shall both regret, get off home, Curtis.”

“Yes sir. Thanks for listening and for your support.”

“My pleasure, Nurse Curtis, it’s always nice to talk to a pretty young woman.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“I shall speak to Captain Brice and between us we’ll organise someone to help you deal with these issues.”

I walked back to my room. I was completely exhausted and numb. He had kissed me even though he knew what I was. When I got home I stood looking in the mirror, my eyes were red and my skin pale, but looking back at me was a young woman. No matter what I thought or wanted, my body had decided its own course. All I could do was to go along with it for the moment and try to understand what was happening. When I did, maybe I could tell my family.