E’volvo’lution Chapter 4

Tuesday, my second day of work, was a very early start. Now I had my phone I could set the alarm so was up and dressed and out of the house before six. I had got Astrid to unglue the special panties last night.

Although they had outlets that allowed me to do my business, I had started to itch underneath. It had been lovely having a shower this morning and the special panties were all right just pulled on, now that I was mainly wearing jeans.

At the depot there was the sound of a grinder coming from the garage so I went in to meet the mechanics. The reception was all right, if a little incredulous that a girl had been sent to help but we got the electric motor out of the truck. Then it was attached to a new engine stand, by eight. I was able to point out a few tricks that we used in the plant when putting these motors in.

It saved a lot of time when I stopped the lift to ask if they’d removed the earth strap under the unit. That caused a short embarrassed silence and then some laughter. The foreman treated me to a cup of coffee and a roll in the canteen, and then I went to get my clipboard for the day.

I had no trouble getting into the docks but another dozen guys wanting selfies could have slowed me down if the lifter had been on time. Back on the road south I put my phone in the holder, and turned the radio on.

Obviously word had got around as I was getting calls from other trucks on the road wanting a chat with Antonia. I was getting advice of any problems as I drove south. At the printers there was another group of guys waiting for me when I rolled in, no doubt tracking my progress on their own CB.

It was a really festive feel to my time there and everyone was very kind. While the truck was being unloaded I was taken into the main office to meet the big boss who wanted to see me. There was a photo session and then I was back in the truck and leaving the plant empty. I rang the depot and told them that I was in Tartu and coming back empty. They told me to pull over and wait for a while.

I pulled into the next service area. I got out and took my phone with me when I went into the café for lunch. About fifteen minutes later I had eaten a soggy sandwich and was carrying a lukewarm coffee out to the truck when the phone rang again.

Greger waited until I started the truck, and then helped me load the pick-up details into the GPS. He told me that it was a government job, and that I was not allowed to pick up hitch-hikers. As if I would sully the white interior with any Tom, Dick or Harry!

The load was urgently needed at a NATO depot in Germany, not a very long trip but certainly an overnighter. It was a lucky thing I had my paperwork, including my passport, with me now.

When I pulled up at the gates of the army camp just north of Tartu, there was a bit of a wait to get in. There was a crowd of people outside the exit gate with signs. I saw a couple of the old ‘Ban the Bomb’ ones being brandished.

I had no paperwork for the load but eventually was escorted to an area some way from other buildings. I was told to stay in the truck while they put an ordinary looking container on the back. They then passed me the paperwork and a couple of guys in a small truck led me back to the gates.

The sergeant of the guard gave me my destination and the co-ordinates which I loaded into the GPS. It was only just in Estonia and he told me that I could stay the night there. They would give me a meal and more information.

As I pulled out of the gate someone called out “Antonia,” and I let the window down and gave them a wave. The crowd parted for me to leave the base and I drove south until I reached the army camp near the border.

When I pulled up at the gate I was waved through, and a truck pulled out in front of me with a ‘Follow me’ sign in Swedish. It led me to an area surrounded by earth walls and I was signalled to stop there and shut down. Getting out of the truck I was greeted by a senior officer who spoke Swedish, welcoming me to the base. He told me to collect my stuff from the cab, lock the truck, and follow him.

I grabbed my bag and followed him past a squad of heavily armed soldiers. He took me to a bunkhouse, and showed me into a room. This was my lodging for the night.

I dropped my bag on the bed. I said that I had no other clothes and he told me not to worry, all will be supplied. I was really intrigued by this time. I needed the toilet and he waited patiently until I was ready. We then went to the mess hall where we got a good meal on trays, and sat at a secluded table to eat it.

As we ate he explained today. “I was at the truck show with the army display last weekend and saw how you managed to steal the limelight from just about everyone else. When this problem came up on Monday I immediately thought of you. I think that you realised that the crowd were waiting for a ‘sensitive’ load to come out of the base. They expected an armed escort and heavy trucks but we gave them you, on your own, and famous already in the trucking community.”

“I’ll escort you down to Germany; the destination is a base just out of Potsdam. We leave early so you’d better get a good sleep. Someone will wake you at four, and we expect to get going by five. It’s about sixteen hours to our destination, and I want to do it in one go. Are you all right with that?”

I said I was, as long as we got some comfort breaks along the way. After our meal he took me to the stores where they gave me a full kit – socks and underwear, a couple of pairs of military pants and boots, some tops, a full suite of cosmetics and cleansers and a couple of basic night-dresses.

On top of it all was a back-pack and a big camo jacket with a hood. My guide, who insisted I call ‘Q’, told me that he had signed them out, and that they would be considered ‘used in action’. Back in the bunk-house I stripped off and had a shower, put on the nightie and piled onto (rather than into) an army bunk; eventually dropping off to sleep.

I was woken by banging on the door which only stopped when I called out. I dressed in the camo pants with my hi-vis shirt and the jacket over the top, and then put everything else in the pack. I opened the door to find a smiling trooper with a side-arm waiting to escort me to the mess hall. I ate with Q and he told me that we would have two small trucks as escort and he would be in the lead one.

I was to have a radio that would plug into the auxiliary power which he could call me on. If I needed anything I should flash my headlights. When we got to the truck it had been washed and I unlocked it for a trooper to put the radio in.

I climbed in, took off the jacket and stowed it with the new pack and my bag before starting the engine, allowing it to warm up. I rolled the window down and told Q the approximate range that I had left in the tank. He gave me a fuel card, telling me to use it on the trip down and back. “Just get your office to post it to the army when you got back to Tallinn.”

We rolled out just before five, one very plain 4x4 in the lead and another behind. There had obviously been a lot of planning for this operation as we were just waved into Latvia and rolled south. The radio came alive with Q telling me we had a comfort stop in five kilometres, and to fill up there.

When I pulled up at the diesel pump, the two 4x4’s stopped at other pumps some way from me and Q and another couple of guys in civvies got out of the leader and went into the building. They came out just as I finished refilling the tanks and the three guys from the trail 4x4 followed me into the building where I paid, went to the toilet and bought some peppermints.

Once we were all back in the vehicles we were back on the road; south through Latvia and Lithuania and then into Poland with another stop in southern Poland for refuelling, and a quick meal. We sat at three separate tables, some distance from each other.

It was eleven when we pulled into the base at Potsdam and I was bushed. I was shown where to park, told to unlock the pins and wait while they took out the radio. Then to take what I needed, lock the truck and get some sleep.

Next morning I was up again but at a much better hour. When I had showered and dressed I put on some of the army make-up and packed up to leave for home. Outside my door there was another armed trooper who wished me ‘good morning’ in German and led me to the mess.

As I was finishing my breakfast, Q came in and told me the base commander wanted to see me at the truck. I picked up my stuff and he led me to where the truck was, now without the load and freshly washed. I put my stuff away and then a senior officer joined us while all around snapped to attention.

It turned out that he was a truck fanatic, and a friend had sent him pictures from the show. He wanted to have some pictures taken with me and the truck for his scrap-book.

Q made sure that he was always the one taking the pictures, never to appear in them, which made me wonder what branch of the military he served in. I was guided out of the base and joined the Berlinring, stopping at the first service I came across to call Greger.

When he came on the line he was very happy I’d completed the job so quickly because there was an urgent back-load waiting for me in Hamburg Docks.

It was a container of special paper for Kroonprint which had been offloaded from a ship with engine trouble and was urgently needed in Tartu.

I did some estimation and told him that I could be in Hamburg about twelve and, if the load went well, I would go via Rostock to try and overnight in Latvia. I estimated that I would be in Tartu late on Friday afternoon. He said that he would tell them to have someone wait for me and that if it was late I was to stay in a hotel in Tartu Friday night using my company card, and buy anything I need for Saturday.

I was sent the co-ordinates of the Hamburg docks which I plugged into the GPS and he then sent me a loading docket with one of those funny black and white squares.

Just after twelve I pulled into the Hamburg docks and the gate-keeper scanned the thing on my phone. The loading went very quickly and I was back on the road, heading for Rostock by one.

I refuelled while I was still in Germany and arrived in Kaliningrad, Latvia, around ten that night. I pulled into a truck service and refuelled both the truck and myself before bunking down in the cab.

I was woken by the hammering of rain on the roof about four so I decided that this was a good time to leave. I put the camo jacket on with the hood and ran into the building to have a pee and some breakfast. I was back on the road north before five.

It was a good drive back to Tartu and, by starting early, it meant that I arrived a little after two; something that made them very happy as the paper was needed for a print run starting Saturday.

I called the depot and told them that I had finished and would be there about five. I rolled into the depot and Greger was there to welcome me.

He gave me a hug and told me to leave the truck and just get my things and he would take me home. He said that someone else would clean ‘Answer’ and put it away and I told him that I had refuelled not far south on the army card which I gave him to return.

“You’ve done all that driving on government money?”

I nodded. Then I picked up all my stuff, including my new army jacket, and he took me to Astrid's.’ He had to wake me up when we arrived, even though it was only ten minutes away.

Astrid fussed over me and helped me disrobe, tut-tutting when she saw the army issue underwear, and tucked me in. I was out like a light; it had been a very different week for me.

I slept the clock around but, as I was asleep before seven, it was just after seven when I woke up in a desperate need for a pee.

After that I threw on a robe and slippers and wandered down to see if I could empty the pantry; I was ravenous! While I was having a drink and munching some toast, Astrid came in and fussed.

She cooked us both some sausages, eggs and bacon and I wolfed mine down. I laughed, “I can understand the old joke now.”

“What old joke?”

So I told her.

“A truck driver had just come back to work after having a month off and was sitting in the canteen when his mate asked him how the holiday was. He thought a bit and said, “We had a ball. I took the kids to the Paris Disney and then we went down to Madrid, looped up into Italy to see the sights of Rome, went down to swim at Naples and then went up to see Venice.” As he took a drink of tea his mate said that was a lot of driving, to which the guy said, “It wasn’t that much, you should have seen the places we went to in the second week.”

Astrid had to sit down as she laughed so much. I couldn’t believe that she’d never heard the joke or maybe she was just being kind.

Erik came in and asked me how my week was, and I just said, “Interesting”.

He laughed and opened up a newspaper to a page which showed me leaving the army camp at Tartu.

The caption was ‘Truck of the Show working hard. Antonia is getting around.’

I was surrounded by what looked like fans. He then went a few pages further and there was a photo of the same crowd from a different angle with all the placards showing.

The article was about the crowd trying to stop movement of nuclear weapons through Estonia and the army spokesman was quoted, “The protest has worked, the weapons are going no-where.”

A protest spokesman was jubilant, saying that it was a win, ‘For the People!’

Erik turned back to the page with me, “The weapons were already gone, weren’t they?”

I told him that I couldn’t possibly comment, and he could draw his own conclusions.

He laughed, and told me what he did for a living. I hadn’t asked but he worked long hours.

He turned out to be a secretary to one of the ministers in the government “Thanks to my father-in-law and his contacts,” and could read between the lines as well as the next man.

Astrid chuckled, “You should see the stuff they got her to wear; it shouldn’t be allowed."

He asked, “What stuff?” I said that I’d been issued with some kit that they didn’t want back.

He asked if I could bring the outer clothes down for him to look at so I went to my room, and came back with a pair of the trousers, a top and the big jacket. I told him that there was also underwear that Astrid disliked but was very comfortable, as well as a pack to store it all in.

He had a good look and feel of the pants and jacket, “Someone went to a lot of trouble for you. These are top-line military issue, very new and quite expensive. I would say that you were given close to a thousand Euros worth of kit.”

He then looked hard at the jacket and pointed out a tag on the front that just said Berg and put his hand into the top pocket, pulling out an ID on a lanyard.

“Very interesting, especially as they only had a few days,” he murmured. I took the ID and it had a photo-shopped picture of me, probably taken on Sunday and some lines in Estonian.

The only thing I understood was ‘Antonia Berg’ on one line.

He laughed, “If we were both in our uniforms I would have to salute you. They gave you a non-commissioned officer rank, something I never got close to in my four years of service. This was a well thought out cover if needed. I think that you may be asked to do some more driving that needs some sleight-of-hand as well as discretion. If anyone asks you about the week it was just a regular job.”

After our breakfast Astrid got me into my room and removed the forms so I could have a bath and look after all of my skin. She inspected me closely and said that I had come out of the week in good shape.

I would be allowed to leave them off until Sunday evening and she said I then had the choice of staying as Antonia or going back to Anton. I told her that Antonia was having far too much fun to stop yet.

I dressed in the army pants and one of the tops so I looked like a trooper on holiday. With my bike boots on we went to the salon and Astrid washed my hair and restyled it into a very youthful tumble of blondeness.

My nails were reworked and she did more with my face. We then went shopping for some skirt and top outfits that I could wear for most occasions.

In the afternoon, I rang home and had a chat with my mother. She had seen the pictures from last weekend on-line, and thought that I would make a lovely bride.

We both had a laugh but I then realised that she was more serious about that than I was. Greger rang late in the afternoon and told me that the whole company was gathering at the depot on Sunday afternoon for a photo session, followed by a barbeque.

I was expected to turn up in the red dress again and look ‘wonderful’. Astrid said that she would prepare me for my performance.

I argued that I would rather be there in normal work wear as I was just a working driver. This made Greger snort and tell me that I was the figurehead of a new movement. He had already received six applications from girls who wanted to drive big trucks.

He also told me that I would be in the depot for most of the next week as his father had arranged to get someone to come in and double check my mechanical knowledge. This would lead to arranging my extra tuition so that I could get my professional papers.

Saturday evening Astrid took me out to a club. It was not one of those highbrow social places or a grunge dance club but was somewhere in between. Once I saw the crowd inside I realised that it could be a ‘pink’ club.

It was a pleasant evening as we were asked to dance by both guys and girls and I realised that it had been chosen so that I could identify with my own gender zone.

It didn’t help. I was happy with both sexes and my tucked away appendage didn’t react to anyone I danced with.

On the way home I thanked Astrid for the evening and said that she looked quite comfortable in such a place. She told me that Greger had frequented that club as well when he was a bit younger. “It’s one of those places where your sex doesn’t matter.”

On Sunday I was prettied up in the red dress and we went to the depot. The whole crowd was there, and we lined up the trucks with the biggest in the middle with the electrics on the outside.

My truck and the one with the Pony Express rider were nose to nose in front of the lot. Greger had arranged for a cherry-picker so that the photographer could get a high vantage point.

It all worked out well, my only problem was that I was considered as eye candy by the photographer, and he insisted in telling me to pose more sexily and pout. I finally walked off in a huff, only being brought back after the photographer had been told that I was a working driver, not just a model.

When we put the trucks away again we had a company barbeque. I got to meet more of the staff as well as their partners who had come along for the afternoon. I eventually found myself sitting off to one side with a soft drink in my hand.

I was joined by Berget, the receptionist. We chatted a bit and I found her to be quite a nice person to speak to. She asked me if I intended to marry Greger and I told her that that would never happen as he was just a friend as well as my employer.

She seemed much more interested after that revelation and we ended up with her asking me if I wanted to join her that evening at the same nightclub I had been to the previous evening. I said I would love to. She thought that we would have to get a taxi as she only had a motor-bike. I laughed and told her I was staying with Astrid, and that my own bike was there so we could ride together.

Back home I stripped off and Astrid reglued the breasts, and I dressed to ride the bike. The club would be happy with me in my leather pants so that’s what I wore. With these and a blouse that seemed too revealing, the bike boots and my leather jacket I couldn’t be more different to the girl in the red dress but, for some reason. I felt that this was the more normal for me.

When Astrid saw me she just said, “Wow!!”

When Berget saw me she said the same and we both broke down laughing as we were so similarly dressed we could have been planning it this way. I put all of my stuff in a shoulder bag and went out to start my bike.

Berget said we could have a little ride first. I followed her out and around the town and along the most popular streets until we pulled up in a car-park by the club. We chained the bikes to a light pole and went in, putting out helmets into the cloakroom. We had a great evening and did most of our dancing together or with some other girls she knew.

In the end we got back on the bikes and she led us to a little park by the Marina where we sat and watched the boats with the moon behind them. I wondered about the choice as it was very romantic. I thought that Berget was a normal girl.

As if she was reading my thoughts she took a deep breath.

“Antonia, you’ve no idea how odd this is for me. I’m not a lesbian but I’ve admired you since the first day you walked into the office. Today, seeing you in your red dress was a revelation. You’re so feminine despite being a respected mechanic and driver.”

“What you did this last week would have flattened most of the drivers in the company. I don’t think any of them would have pulled it off and most of them would still be on the way back. I really can’t understand why I’m so attracted to you because I’ve never felt this way about another girl.”

“Maybe you feel this way because I’m not a girl at all.”

She looked at me, coldly, “Please don’t mess with me,” and stood up.

I reached into my bag and pulled out my passport and Swedish truck licence and gave them to her.

She looked at them and her eyes widened,, “Anton, you’re really Anton and a guy?”

I stood and took her hand, and got her to sit again while I related the whole saga. At the end of it she asked the big question, “So, are you going to transition?”

I told her that I didn’t want to be an actual woman and that I was happy to live as one while it remained fun. I then admitted that there was no way I could do anything about my looks as it was my heritage. Even if I was bald there would be people who would think I was a girl. It was my greatest asset as well as my greatest burden.

She thought for a few moments, then smiled and pulled me to her in a wonderful and never-ending kiss.

The interesting thing for me was that my manhood was straining against its restraints. It was a wonderful feeling, if a bit painful.

Marianne Gregory © 2022