War is Hell

[DaraJaney]

News came through that the rebel army were advancing on the town.  The women and children waited nervously as they approached.  The town had supported the government forces and all the adult men had been drafted to fight, so those left behind were undefended.  Winnie Kingston’s husband had been killed in the early stages and she was left with her sixteen year old daughter, Gina, and her fifteen year old son, Victor.



Rumour had it that the rebel army was rounding-up teenage boys and taking them away.  Nobody was quite sure if they were forcing them to fight or if they were imprisoning them so that they couldn’t join the government forces.  And there were even worse rumours.



Victor wanted to run away from the advancing forces and join the government army but his mother refused to let him go.  They argued and she ended up locking him in his upstairs bedroom.



He was looking out the window trying to judge if he could jump down without injuring himself when he heard the door unlock.  He turned around to find his mother coming into the room clutching one of his sister’s old dresses.  Gina was holding various items of girl’s underwear.



Having heard stories about mothers disguising their sons as girls to avoid being drafted, he knew immediately what they intended to do.  He pleaded with them to be allowed make a run for it rather than suffer the indignity of wearing a dress and having to act like a girl when the invading forces arrived.  But his mother wasn’t having any of it.  She had already lost her husband and had no intention of losing her only son.



Victor had already been desperately frustrated at not being able to join the army.  Like most boys he had a romantic image of being a soldier, wearing a smart uniform and being hailed as a hero.  But he was unable to go against his mother’s wishes.



So now, instead of donning the dreamed of green uniform, his mother and sister were putting a blue dress on him.  He grumbled and pleaded but as the sound of rumbling tanks could be heard in the distance, it became obvious that it was too late to escape.



He winced and protested when they wanted him to put on a pair of girl’s panties.  â€śDon’t be silly”, his mother insisted, “you don’t want to end up dead because you wouldn’t wear these!”  Before, he would have said that he would rather die than wear a dress and panties but faced now with such a real prospect, there really was no choice.



His mother zipped the dress up and he stood and looked in the mirror.  His sister had hardly worn any dresses for years so this one must have been bought years ago and was quite short on him.  He brushed it down and tugged at the hem but there was no doubt that he was going to need to wear the panties.



Although his legs were not all that hairy they would still have looked suspiciously furry for a girl so his sister insisted that he needed to wear tights.  He sighed heavily but had to accept that she was right.



His mother rolled up a pair of white tights while Victor cringed at the thought of wearing them.  Once they were pulled up under his dress his sister gave him a pair of t-bar shoes.  He buckled them on and stood up.  They had a higher heel than he was used to so he had to walk up and down a few times to try to get used to them.



His mother produced a wig that he recalled his sister wore for a school play.  It had lots of long curls.  His sister produced two blue ribbons to tie up the curls on either side.  He glared at her in the mirror as she tied them into neat bows.  He was sure that she was loving this.



Examining himself in the mirror, he saw that he looked fairly convincingly like a girl alright – but like a ten-year-old.  Only the worst mummy’s girl would wear clothes like this at the age of fifteen.



Tanks rumbled closer outside and then they heard the sound of boots on the street.  Victor sat squirming anxiously in the blue dress.  What would they do to him if they found out that he was really a boy?  It would be bad enough to be taken prisoner by them but would they drag him away still wearing the dress and tights and panties?



Eventually there was a bang on the door.  They sat frozen around the kitchen table.  There was another hammering on the front door.  His mother decided that she had better open the door before they smashed it in.



Victor looked enviously at his sister who was wearing a pair of jeans.  This was so unfair, he thought.  She was sitting there looking the real tomboy while he sat there is a dress and a wig.



The soldiers pushed their way past his mother.  They immediately spread out around the house searching for anything suspicious.  A private came into the kitchen and saw what looked to him like two girls.  He gave Victor a curious look, clearly noting the ultra-girlish look but he didn’t seem to be too suspicious.



All the soldiers returned from the various rooms and reported to the corporal that all was clear.  He strode around the place with an air of authority.  Victor and Gina stood automatically when he entered the kitchen.  Victor smoothed down his short dress self-consciously and then tried to look more confident.



The corporal squinted a little in his direction.  He looked Victor up and down thoroughly.  He seemed to be suspicious but said nothing.



He went upstairs.  They heard him go around checking each room.  When he returned, he spoke to their mother.  â€śThere are boy’s clothes in a room up there.”  His mother put on a sad look.  â€śYes, that was Charlie’s room.  He was killed several months ago.”  The corporal considered this for a moment.  â€śI’m sorry about that”, he replied.



He turned to one of the soldiers.  â€śPrivate Holby.  See to it that all of the boy’s clothes in that room are collected and brought to the Red Cross.  They will see that a needy family gets them.”  The corporal walked towards Victor after issuing this order.  Victor was certain that he was rumbled.  â€śYou”, the corporal said, “go and help.”



Victor didn’t know how to feel about this.  He was relieved at not being caught but he was now going to have to gather up all his boy’s clothes and give them away.

[DaraJaney]

Victor followed the private up the stairs and half way up became very conscious of the other soldiers watching him go up.  He pushed down the back of his dress as he ascended, concerned at what they might see.  He was now actually relieved at having worn the tights and panties.



The private took a couple of bags and held them out for Victor to put all his clothes in.  He knew that once this was done, he would have nothing to wear but his sister’s clothes.  At least, once the soldiers were gone, he could probably just hang around the house in a dressing gown or something and try to avoid going out.



He hoped that the soldier would only make him gather up shirts and trousers and the like but he had to empty all the underwear drawers as well.  There wasn’t a stitch left.



He watched unhappily as all of his clothes were taken out and thrown in the back of a lorry.  He looked down at his blue dress and pressed his knees together nervously, wondering when he would get to wear a pair of trousers again.



As the soldiers started leaving and Victor relished the prospect of getting the stupid dress and tights off, the corporal turned to his mother.  â€śI am obliged to billet one of our troops here.”  He turned to one of the soldiers.  â€śPrivate Jenkins, you take that room we’ve just cleared.”  â€śYes sir”, the private answered and he looked apologetically at the family into whose house he was intruding.



Private Jenkins went upstairs and the others left.  Victor looked at his mother in distress.  He held out the skirt of his dress in disgust at the fact that he was clearly going to have to stay dressed as a girl.  He was further displeased at the obvious amusement of his mother and sister.



Fortunately, his sister’s room had a bunk bed from the previous owners of the house so it had passed inspection as a bedroom for two girls.  Gina brought Victor up to the room.  On the one hand she didn’t like having to share a room with her brother, but on the other, it was clearly going to be amusing having him dressed as a girl.



After a while the soldier left the house.  The three of them discussed their plight.  Victor wanted desperately to take off his dress and tights but they convinced him that the soldier could return at any time so he would have to stay dressed as a girl all the time.



They looked through Gina’s wardrobe for other clothes that he could wear.  He held up a pair of jeans but his mother told him that they wouldn’t fit him because they were cut for a girl’s shape.  Gina made it clear that she didn’t want him wearing her things anyway.



His mother took out the ladder up to the attic.  She went up and was followed by Gina.  Victor was reluctant to go up in his dress.



He heard them rummage about and waited anxiously at the foot of the ladder.  They reappeared clutching various old dresses and skirts that Gina didn’t wear anymore.  Victor looked warily at the selection of clothes that they seemed to expect him to wear.



“Are there no old clothes of mine up there?”  â€śSorry but I only kept her best clothes that she wouldn’t wear anymore.  You wore out all your clothes.”



Gina was holding up various items of underwear with amusement.  Only the fanciest panties had been kept – all lace trimmed or matching the dresses.  She had a dozen pairs of tights draped over her arm and a few pairs of lace-trimmed ankle socks.  Victor cringed at the thought of wearing these.



“Mum, please don’t make me wear these”, he begged.  â€śWell, you’re not wearing any of my new clothes”, Gina insisted.  His mother proceeded to hang the dresses at one end of the wardrobe.  Gina opened the bottom drawer of the dresser which was largely empty.  She shoved in the panties, tights and socks and said “that’s your drawer now.”



So that seemed to be that.  Victor was condemned to wear dresses and skirts as long as the soldier remained billeted with them.  Not only that but he would have to act like a girl when he was around.



Later they shaved his legs but his dress was so short and he was so conscious of his panties being seen that he kind of wanted to put the tights back on but he couldn’t bring himself to.  He rummaged through his underwear drawer and found a pair of white knee high socks which seemed to be about the least embarrassing things he could wear.



A curfew was imposed in the town but the next day his mother went out to find out what was happening.  Victor didn’t want to go out in a dress anyway.  She returned to say that the townspeople were ordered to continue with everything as normal.  The schools would reopen tomorrow and the army would make sure that all children attended.



Victor was rightly concerned at this because it looked like he was not going to be able to stay in the privacy of the house.  His mother said that there was great uncertainty as to what happened to other teen-age boys.  There were certainly none about.  Rumours abounded about some escaping to the army, others being arrested and a few possibly being disguised as girls.



Victor asked his mother if she told anyone about his predicament.  She gave him a guilty look.  â€śWell you are going to have to go out sometime, so I had to let them know.  We wouldn’t want anyone giving you away by looking at you strangely.”  Victor cringed at the thought of the whole town knowing that he was dressed as a girl.



His mother and sister insisted on trying to coach him on how to act like a girl.  They warned him that he mustn’t let his guard down or he would be caught.  He would have to act as a girl as second nature.  He was reluctant but knew that they were right.

[DaraJaney]

He didn’t sleep well that night, knowing that he was going to have to go to school as a girl the next day.  Gina’s old green pleated school skirt was retrieved.  Girls could wear trousers as part of the uniform now so she didn’t need the skirt anymore - luckily for Victor.



Though he didn’t feel very lucky.  This was most unfair!  He was going to have to go to school in a skirt while his sister accompanied him in a pair of trousers.  He looked at the short skirt in the mirror and tried to pull it down further.  Gina walked over to the bottom drawer.  He never thought he would be envious of those boring grey school trousers but he would give anything to be able to wear them now.



Gina took out a pair of green tights for him.  He cringed but the skirt was so short on him that he didn’t like the idea of wearing socks.  Reluctantly he took the tights and put them on.



He hoped desperately that the soldier might leave the house early and he might get away with not going to school.  But he was still up in the room as the time approached.



Gina stood up from the breakfast table and looked at him.  Victor stood up and smoothed down the back of his skirt.  They took their bags and went to the door.  Victor looked at himself in the hall mirror.  There were a few crumbs on his tights and he had to pick them off.



His mother opened the door and he braced himself.  It seemed to be breezy outside so he clutched his pleated skirt as he went out expecting it to be blown all over the place.  The breeze rippled his skirt but that seemed to be all.  His sister told him not to look so nervous or people would realise that he was a boy.



He very reluctantly let go of his skirt and braced himself for any sudden gusts.  But even when they came they just blew the skirt against his tights and it seemed to be OK.  So he grew in confidence.



But then they saw other children on their way.  Again he braced himself, assuming that at least some of them would know that he was a boy.  All the others they met were girls - real girls - although most of them were in trousers.



They looked at him and smiled. But they all knew better than to make a scene that might give him away.  They just looked amusedly at his skirt and green tights and said nothing.



Once into the relative privacy of the classroom, the girls and teacher felt free to titter and giggle at Victor.  He sat in the middle of the classroom shifting uncomfortably in his short skirt.



At break time he heard that there was one other boy at school disguised as a girl.  When Victor saw him he was envious of his long skirt, almost to his ankles.  He wondered if this boy was wearing tights or socks but couldn’t tell with the long skirt.  He wore a wig with bobbed hair.



The boy looked Victor up and down and initially they exchanged sympathetic looks.  But then Victor could tell that the boy was relieved not to have to wear such a short skirt, tights and ribbons in his hair.



The orders from the occupying army were clear.  Everyone was expected to go about their normal business and it was not acceptable for people to hole-up at home, except during the curfew.  The soldiers billeted in the houses would report anyone not complying so people had no choice.



On Saturday morning Victor had to wear something other than his school uniform.  He selected a white blouse and the longest skirt he could find, which was unfortunately pink and still fell a few inches short of his knees.  He couldn’t find the white knee socks he’d worn the other day and concluded that they must be in the wash.



He searched through the bottom drawer.  He really didn’t want to wear tights.  There were pairs of lace-top stockings that sent a shudder down his spine.  The only other options were the white ankle socks with frilly lace trimmings.  It was them or the tights so he picked a pair with matching pink lace and put them on.



He had hoped to be able to stay in but with the soldier watching their every move, Victor’s mother insisted that he had to accompany his sister who was meeting friends in the coffee shop.  Victor realised that they would find his lacey socks hilarious but he had no choice.



As he walked along with his sister, passers by found it difficult to keep a straight face seeing this boy in the pink skirt and frilly ankle socks.  Even a girl of his age dressed like that would have attracted enough amusement.



He just sat there red-faced in the coffee shop while the girls discussed fashions and how lousy it was that all the boys were gone.  They looked at Victor.  â€śWell, the real boys, anyway.”



On Sunday the soldier told them that he was going to accompany them to church.  They didn’t usually go but felt that they couldn’t refuse.



Gina put on her best trouser suit while their mother selected a suitable outfit for Victor.  She decided that Gina’s Confirmation outfit would be best.  He cringed at the flowery dress with the wide circular lacey collar.



She put it on the bed and Victor looked at it gloomily while his mother went to the bottom drawer.  She produced a white suspender belt and a pair of white lace-top stockings.  Despite his protests and pleas she put the suspender belt around his waist and fastened it.  She reminded him that the soldier was in the next room and might hear the commotion.



She pushed him down on the bed and rolled up a stocking.  She made him pull the suspender straps through under his panties before hitching them to his stockings.



He moaned through the whole thing but she took no notice of his protests and pulled the dress over his head.  When she pulled it down and zipped him up he noticed that the skirts stood out at quite an angle.  He pushed down at them but they resisted.  He pulled up the hem to find a stiff net petticoat underneath.



Before he could say anything Gina was putting his foot into a white shoe that had a much higher heel than he was used to.  With both shoes on he struggled to avoid falling forward.



They made him walk up and down to practice.  The shoes forced him to take short girlish steps and he could feel the stockings tug at his suspenders with every step.  The net petticoat rocked back and forth as he walked.



His mother produced a pair of white gloves with lace trim around the wrist.  His sister pushed a white handbag into his hands.  His mother placed a wide-brimmed hat on his head which had a ribbon that matched his dress above the brim and draping down Victor’s back.



They sat him in front of the dresser and put a little make-up on his face.  He had given up resisting at this point, having gone beyond the point of no return.

[DaraJaney]

Victor was sent downstairs while the others did their own make-up.  He paced up and down the lounge but the shoes were beginning to hurt quite badly already.  He sat down in the armchair.  He pushed the net petticoat under his bottom as he sat but this forced the front right up in the air and if there had been anyone there, they would have seen the lace-tops of his stockings, his panties and probably the give-away bulge within.



He pushed the dress down at the front but decided that he clearly needed a technique for sitting down.  He didn’t want this to happen in church in front of the priest.  He stood again and this time pushed the front of his dress down.  But then the net petticoat was caught by the chair and stood up all around him as he sat.  He tried again with one hand at the back and one hand at the front.  That did it, just about.



He decided to take one last look in the hall mirror before they came downstairs.  He was concerned at how the petticoat made the dress stand out.  He turned his back to the mirror and twisted to look over his shoulder.  He thought that he could glimpse a little lace-top of his stocking.  He bent forward slightly and sure enough the lace-tops became visible.



Just then his mother and sister came down the stairs followed by the soldier and he realised that it was too late to do anything about it.  He was swept outside and his mother locked the door behind them.



He now wished that he hadn’t checked in the mirror.  He would have preferred not to know.  As he click-clacked noisily down the street in his heels the petticoat rocked back and forth around him, surely giving glimpses of his stocking-tops.



A little gust of wind threatened to take off his hat so he put his hand up to hold it.  But that left his petticoat unprotected and it fluttered around him.  He tried his best to hold it down with one hand which was already clutching a handbag but it just pushed it down at the front and tipped his dress up at the back.  He wanted to cry.



All the way to the church he struggled to hold his hat on while controlling his net petticoat and desperately scampering in his high heels to try to keep up with his mother and sister.



They insisted on standing around outside the church chatting while he stood shifting anxiously from one high heel to the other.  So they were nearly the last to enter the church.  Both sides of the aisle were crammed full since everyone was obliged to be there.



He cringed as he followed his mother up the centre aisle knowing that the whole town would be highly amused with the spectacle of a fifteen-year-old boy in the flowery Confirmation dress, white stockings and high heels.



They selected a pew and had to push by the people already seated.  Victor’s net petticoat caused havoc, brushing against hymnals and other items.  He tried to squeeze it in as much as possible at the sides but that made it stick up at the front and back.



When he reached his position he desperately tried to restore the petticoat and tried not to think about what people around him probably saw.



He’d never appreciated before how often the congregation has to stand and sit and kneel.  All of these normally routine movements were filled with danger for him.  He smoothed his dress at the back every time they stood, held it front and back when he was required to sit and had to clasp both hands behind his back when they knelt forward against the pew or else his net petticoat would tilt right up at the back.



Also, every time he stood his stockings stretched a little bit more making him concerned that they were slipping down.  There was nothing he could do to check or remedy the situation without causing an obvious scene as he would have to pull up his net petticoat in front of everyone.



Outside afterwards, everyone seemed to want to say hello and smile at poor Vincent who could only stand their clutching his handbag in his white gloves and try to relieve his aching feet by lifting each foot in turn, much to the amusement of all the women.  He was also dying to get home so that he could pull up his stockings which were surely visible under his short dress.



He scampered home as quickly as his high heels would allow, emitting little yelps whenever a gust caught his hat or petticoat.  The soldier did not follow them home so once in the door Victor flopped down in a chair, not caring how his petticoat crumpled.  He put his feet up on a stool and tried to flex them as much as he could, given that they were wedged into the shoes.



He looked pitifully up at his mother.  â€śCan I change out of these clothes please?”  â€śDon’t be silly, the soldier could come back at any time.”  Victor sighed heavily.  â€śBut these shoes are agony and the petticoat is all over the place and my stockings are slipping down and …”  he sighed again.  His mother and sister laughed.  â€śNow you know how hard it is to be a woman.”



At the end of the day, Victor was so relieved to get the shoes off.  His feet remained stiffened into the same shape for several minutes until he gradually eased them straight again and was finally able to relish walking back and forth on the flat.



Over the following weeks Victor, his family and everyone at school became used to his predicament.  But whenever he was alone for a moment, he found himself wishing desperately that he could wear a pair of trousers again – even for a moment.



One morning they heard that the soldiers were about to move on.  Victor waited excitedly as their soldier gathered his things together upstairs.  There was a knock on the door.  A town official was outside.  â€śGood morning.  I am instructed to take a record of everyone in the house.”



He sat at the table and took out his record books.  The soldier came downstairs, said his goodbyes and left.  Victor was entered in the town records as Victoria.  He wished that the official would hurry up so that he could go upstairs and take his dress, tights and panties off.



As the official slipped the book into his briefcase he issued instructions.  â€śYou are to go down to the town hall right away where you will have your photos taken for ID cards that you must have with you at all times.”



Victor was most disturbed by this.  Instead of going upstairs to take off his dress, he accompanied his mother and sister to the town hall.  There was a line of people waiting for their ID cards.



Victor watched gloomily as they all had their digital photos taken and a card was issued to them which they were instructed to wear clipped to their clothes at all times.  The authorities could also call to any house at any time and demand to see the ID cards.



Victor was wearing a white lacy blouse and his curls were tied up in pink ribbons.  He realised that he would have to wear this ID card at all times which meant that he was going to have to continue dressing as a girl – even at home.



His neighbours watched with interest as Victor neared the top of the queue.  He fought back the tears as he posed for the photo.  The camera flashed and within seconds Victor was presented with a laminated, forge-proof ID card.  He looked at the photo and his curls tied up perkily on either side of his head and his spanking white lace blouse buttoned tightly at his neck.  He knew that he was going to have to stay dressed as a girl indefinitely now – as long as this crowd were in power anyway.