I wasn't a young man when I had to go to the Civil War for the Union troops. Honestly, I didn't expect to be called up because I'm an elderly guy - and I'm fat. I work hard and I like to eat and I have a weakness for beer. Over the years this has given me a huge belly.
I probably joined the troops because I am an excellent mule driver and also a good cook. I drive the supply truck and try to keep the boys happy with good food. War is shit! Especially when it's a war between brothers. I've seen a lot of good guys die. Others were horribly mutilated. I just wish this all ended soon.
It's the third summer of the war, we're advancing on the Mississippi. It's another scorching hot day and we're glad when we can finally set up camp. The boys look forward to a good dinner, but before I tend the men, I tend to my animals. I unhitch my mules and take them to the river to water. I've taken off my sweaty linen shirt, my suspenders tight over my enormous paunch. Pulling my uniform cap back, I watch my mules drink.
"Well, look at that, a blue belly" sounds behind me. I drive around. Three young guys, obviously Confederates, come out of the bushes along the bank. One of them whistles through his teeth. "More like a furry belly!" It's true, I'm very hairy. The guys from the troupe also call me "the bear". "Above all, a big belly!" grins the third and pulls his rifle from his shoulder. 

I know right away I'm in serious trouble. The three of them surround me, the guy with the gun aims his bayonet at my huge belly. "Let's see if I can pierce your fat paunch..." "Don't do that, son! Getting it in the gut sucks... Aren't you guys taught how to make a clean kill?" "Shut up, porker! If you let your belly get that big, you wouldn't want it any other way! I'm surprised no one has set themselves this perfect goal..."
With these words, the fellow rams the bayonet into my gut just below the navel. Ssshhtk! It makes a sound like jabbing a knife into a ripe watermelon. "Oooughhh..." Groaning, I hold my fat belly into which the sharp blade penetrates deeper and deeper. When its full length is in my gut, the gun barrel sticks right into my belly button. "You didn't pierce him, Danny," says one of the guys. Danny laughs. "Damn, you're really fat!" I moan and groan, my wounded gut heaving up and down in excruciating pain. "My big belly swallows your slug too!" I grunt. Danny flashes a malicious grin. "We'll see..." The next moment he pulls the trigger and puts a bullet in my belly button. The shot rings out and a hot, searing pain shoots up my gut. "Aaaawww...my guts are on fire!" I moan.
Danny's cronies look around in panic. "You idiot! His comrades heard that..." That's exactly what I wanted to aim for with my provocation. I knew the moment he stuck the bayonet in my gut that I was lost. The shot would now hopefully get my boys on the scene. Danny rips the bayonet out of my fat belly, which I clutch groaning. He and his buddies take to their heels, and my boys come storming up. Shots ring out, then the three of them are already lying on the ground, where they are finally finished off with a saber.

Groaning, I sink to my knees. "My belly... my big belly! I'm done..." My boys come to my aid. With one look they can see how I am doing. "Damn pigs! Right in his gut…” “Can you make it back to camp?” “I don't know…” I moan, pressing my hands tightly to the gut wounds. My intestines are bulging out of the deep prick below my navel. They pull me up, support me. "Slowly!" "Careful! His guts are bulging out of his belly.” Using their combined strength, they heave me onto one of the mules, one man swings behind me and holds me as we head back to camp.
There is a lot of excitement there. "They got the bear!" "Those bastards got him in his belly..." "We sent them straight to hell!" I am carefully lifted off the mule and put on a bed. "The Doc will look after you." I suffer terribly, my poor belly hurts so much! Then the Doc comes, he looks at me sadly. "You know there's nothing I can do for you. Can I still have a look at your belly?” Moaning, I push my hands away from the gut wounds. The Doc carefully examines my sore paunch. "Damn, the bayonet went deep into the intestines, that's a big wound, the intestines come out. Then a slug in the belly button..." "It's still in my gut..." I groan. "Aw, it burns like fire!" "That's really remarkable, your belly is so big and tight that the bullet couldn't go through it. I bandage your wounds so your intestines don't bulge out of your belly. And I'll give you Whiskey to ease the pain. That's all I can do. Sorry…"

Now I'm lying here, the terrible pain in my gut is tormenting me.
I hold my fat belly groaning and moaning. Oooogghhhh... it hurts so much! But the worse the pain rages in my belly, the more painful the agony becomes, the more clearly I feel that the pain in my gut also excites me.
I wish one of the guys would come and rub and pat my big wounded belly. That would really comfort me...