Where Were My Harlots?

No Haji, foxy lady ever gave us the “I want to fuck you eyes." Most of them were quite the opposite, covered up head to toe in veils.

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I feel like my generation has been gypped. I’m not speaking about the typical Generation-Y woes with the failing economy and our youthful optimism and ambitions being crushed by the real world. This feeling of unfairness is only felt by a select group of Americans, the men who served and fought in Iraq and Afghanistan. There is much talk in the news about how both the Bush and Obama administration mishandled those wars, but I’m not here to get into those politics. While these modern wars gave us luxuries unheard of in past generations, there is one thing that past generations of veterans had access to that we were completely fucked out of: Liberated groupies and prostitutes.

After the long, intense, brutal fighting of the D-Day invasion against the Nazis and slowly reclaiming Europe, the Allied forces were met and seen as liberators of France. With panties drenched in lust for their liberators, French women would fuck soldiers left and right to show their gratitude. Joe was a hero and his reward, if he chose to act upon it, was that wonderful European pussy. In war, no man knows which day will be his last, so it would be logical for him to act upon it. These women knew what their valiant saviors desired and wanted and provided it with the utmost eagerness.

What happened in Iraq and Afghanistan? Whether we liberated them from the Taliban or Saddam, they may have been grateful, but the women of these nations were not throwing themselves at American troops. They weren’t happily repaying us for their new found freedom from tyranny by eagerly showing us their beautiful Middle Eastern bodies. We didn’t have the opportunity to fuck Haji bitches and get them addicted to our American dick. No Haji, foxy lady ever gave us the “I want to fuck you eyes.” Most of them were quite the opposite, covered up head to toe in veils. Denying the horny and sex deprived American fighting male the eye candy he sorely needed in an effort to keep his sanity, a purely selfish act on their part.

Well, if we couldn’t win the hearts, minds, and pussies of the local women, we should have been able to use the free market and purchase it at a mutually agreed upon price dictated by the laws of supply and demand, correct? That’s what our fighting men were able to do in the Korean and Vietnam War. After killing hoards of gooks, our brave and battle hardened men were able to go back to base and take a few days of R&R. Around the bases, there were bars and massage parlors where a GI in need of company could easily acquire it. There would be an overabundance of young, feminine, and attractive Asian women with adorable accents to chose from and eager to love him long time. He’d then ravage her delicate little body to his heart’s content and consequently, she would then get paid a handsome price. It was truly a win-win situation.

In an effort to not piss off the easily angered fundamentalist Muslim psyche, the US Military has made it almost impossible for a man to get a prostitute while he is in the war zone. There is no interaction with the local populace outside of missions for most troops. There are no flings with Afghan or Iraqi women or meeting a prostitute with a heart of gold. There are no love affairs that are complicated by the horrors of war and cultural differences as drama slowly unfolds, when both parties learn that love can truly conquer anything. There are no bastard children of American men left behind. The closest we came to finding love overseas was through porn and nude pictures of our and other troops whorish, cheating ex-girlfriends that we uploaded to “The Drive” and shared with the rest of the base.

Sex was happening in Afghanistan and Iraq, but that occurred in support units where there were mixed genders and among government contractors. As for the combat arms units compromised of solely men (the ones that actually did the fighting), were left in a state of sexual purgatory, without any hope of female companionship. No Afghan damsel worrying whether the American man she loves will make it back. No Iraqi prostitutes eagerly awaiting for her core American clientele to come by. Nothing but masturbation for us while our girlfriends from back home cheated on us or stopped answering our phone calls. Men at war and whores go hand and hand, too bad our times did away with that beautiful tradition. Thought Catalog Logo Mark

image -Vince Jones