The Ship Captain...

Like all the masculine ones of my era in 1979, I was sorted for Mandatory Military Service, which was the law at that time, and at my age I begged to be able to dodge by luck that obligation through the draft lottery with a low number that would leave me out of the quantity of conscripts that were mobilized that year; unfortunately, the number that fell to me in the lottery was 998 and that meant my destiny was at sea for the infamous and feared integral medical review that they subjected you to; if they discovered you're a fag, they'd sign you off in red for not being fit... because being gay is a defect... Despite all, I presented myself at the San Martín Military District in Ciudadela with fear and curiosity at the same time. My year had already been penetrated many times; any doctor could see at a glance that my ass had received visits more than once; but you couldn't avoid the appointment for it to be revealing. In that year, certain tacit openness on the part of the military junta had stopped rejecting soldiers for being gay, unless the condition was very obvious, and mine wasn't; the captain doctor who examined me told me so... - we have a fissure as an impairment but you're fit for all military service in every sense; it depends on you if you want to do the drill or not... By instinct of social survival I gave my consent and the military doctor signed me off Fit for All Service without hesitation. On August 2nd of that same year, I received the incorporation telegram to the Argentine Navy. The day of the medical review, hundreds of adolescent dudes were crowded and naked with all their clothes in a black bag, stripped of their modesty walking in an endless line of bare bodies showing everything without shame and at everyone's sight.It was an immense delight to turn my gaze wherever I looked and see all those guys of my age naked, men from all over the west of Bs As making an endless line waiting for their turn without clothes. Continues...