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EXCERPT FROM THE BOOK:
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
It’s ironic that the
new commandant mandate forced many of us out on medicals.
Although it was still an honorable discharge under medical
conditions, I had hoped that my knees would have healed so I
could have stayed in the service and once again become the
golden boy.
I was depressed
and bitter. My friend Blue, decided to take me out on the town
to cheer me up.
We made the
usual rounds and at the nights end decided to return to base. As
we walked by an alley between two bars, we overheard a
commotion. There were five guys surrounding a young, nice
looking, blonde haired woman. The punks were grabbing at her
breasts and the nether regions of her body. The group of punks
was a mixture of Marines and civilians.
The girl was
crying, “Stop it,” as the thugs cackled and hooted.
Because we were
young, drunk and stupid, the call of a helpless woman emboldened
us to act in a manner we normally would have been too fearful to
attempt.
Blue and I were
motivated to act like knights in shining armor and save the
damsel in distress from these oafish louts.
We yelled at
this band of assholes to leave the woman alone. Suddenly they
turned toward us.
A heated
dialogue was exchanged, as the young woman took this opportunity
to slink further into the alley. A few pedestrians stopped to
watch. All of a sudden, one of the thugs pulled a very large gun
and pointed it right at me.
Blue and I just
froze.
Rat-face’s face
was pock marked, mean; his eyes brimming with lunacy. He
snarled, “I’m going to blow your fucking head off Jarhead!!”
Time slowed
down as my stomach dropped. I saw the bore of the barrel zoom in
towards me like a film being played fast forward. I knew that he
was about to blow my head off. Then I lost all perception
of time and space and everything around me.
My universe had
become the pistol bore. I didn’t see until the last instant that
the owner of the bar next door had stepped out into the alley.
The owner was
called Tiny. He was anything but! He was supposedly half
Italian, half Samoan and 100% huge. He was very tough and not
without his own brand of gruff humor. His favorite salutation to
us serviceman was normally a tired out greeting, “You Marines
are welcome to come in, but you got to leave your cocks at the
door!” Somehow Tiny made this familiar cliché’ sound profanely
funny and novel each time he said it and we never failed to
crack up.
Tiny may have
been irreverent and good natured, but he was also one tough
fucker and could be extremely mean. There had been more than a
few occasions when Tiny had to grab two or three misbehaving
Marines at a time and toss them out of his bar.
On this night,
Tiny stealthily came out behind the rat-faced gunman and put a
gun of his own to the head of the man who was about to murder
me.
Tiny gruffly demanded
the gun.
Rat-face’s
lunatic eyes burned like hot coals, then he grinned vacantly,
and acted deferentially towards Tiny, capitulating he handed
over the gun.
It was evident
Tiny knew the guy he took the gun from and chatted with him a
bit. I stood there, still frozen and dazed. I could not really
hear what Tiny and the gunman were saying but, for reasons
unknown to me, Tiny felt it was okay to hand the gun back. While
Tiny had been disarming the gunman, three of the others went to
get their car and pulled up, parking in front of the alley.
As the gunman
and his friend went by, they glared at us with very threatening
looks. They got into the car and then started yelling at the
blonde we had tried to save. During the entire episode, she had
been tearfully hugging herself further back in the alley.
The gunman and
his friends were yelling at her from the car, “Hey bitch, are
you coming or not?”
Still hugging
herself, she passed by my friend and me without a glance or
word. She got into the car and the guys started groping,
giggling and hooting again. With tires screeching, they raced
off in the car.
My friend and
I, still stunned, stood there staring dumbly at Tiny’s broad
face.
Tiny came over
to us and said, “You dudes okay?”
I nodded
quietly and he said, “Fun night, huh?”
We didn’t say
anything and he barked a laughed and said, “You dudes stay cool”
and lumbered back into his club.
Suddenly, I
started to vomit violently! The wracking spasms in my body
lasted long and hard.
I suppose my
unexpected illness was due to the intense fear I had experienced
and my excess inebriation and the overpowering relief I had felt
because I had not been murdered and because I was going through
an adrenaline crash that had been dumped into my system and
lastly because I also felt heart sick to my core that the woman
we wanted to save from murderous oafs went willingly with the
men that nearly put a cap in our brain-pans.
Eventually,
after ejaculating my guts dry, I stood hunkered over, hands on
knees, my legs shaking and buckling mercilessly. I was clammy
and exhausted and worse than anything, I felt humiliation and
shame that I had proved to be such a pussy.
After all, a
real marine would have survived this ordeal ramrod straight,
cool and defiant to the end. The worst was that Blue had
witnessed me in such a sorry state.
What in the
world would he think?
Surely my Rep
as a tough Marine was ruined.
I looked over
at Blue as I tried to formulate my list of excuses to explain my
shameful malaise.
Blue was still
standing and frozen in time.
His mouth open
with what looked like a silent OH! His eyes had the look of dull
lunacy of a war torn Vet suffering shell shock; and then I
noticed to my horror (and shamefully as I speak of it now) just
a smidgen of relief that Blue had pissed himself, as if his
body’s admission of terror somehow validated my own… made my
fear justified. (It was later that I found out that he had also
crapped his pants)
So there we
were, two would be heroic knights in shining armor, desperately
eager to save all beautiful damsels of the world in distress,
standing impotent and stinking drunk in a dark dank alley.
Instead of a
vainglorious victory or public accolades, or gratitude and
perhaps sex from the damsel, or even an extra steak for our
efforts – our reward for our troubles was piss and crap and
vomit and ignominious failure and humiliation.
We decided to
call it a night.
That was one of
the many times in my life that I learned it is often the people
who cry for help that are the same ones who will bring you down
with them or sacrifice you to save themselves.
Also, as I
reflect over this incident, I realize that all of us handle fear
differently, or perhaps we respond to fear differently. Some
people perform heroically, some people freeze-up, other run in
terror or collapse and lay quivering on the ground. Some people
such as Blue will shit or piss themselves.
Me?
I vomit.
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(GENESIS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(EXODUS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(REVELATIONS)
MOST PEOPLE TALK BULLSHIT:
One Primate's Search For Intelligent Life
(JUDGMENT DAY)
THE MARINES: GOD'S CHOSEN
WARRIORS
VINCE'S GYM
CONVERSATIONS WITH NEO
NEO TEACHES ME THE ART OF WAR
& PEACE;
His Version of The Matrix
MEMORIES OF MY FATHERS
ZEN & THE ART OF RESISTANCE
TRAINING:
A Yogic & Scientific Approach To Weight
Lifting
ZEN & THE BIOLOGY OF
TRANSCENDENCE:
The First Matrix of Psychic
Phenomena
ZEN & THE ART OF KINESIOLOGY:
The Yogic & Scientific
Approach To Movement
ZEN & YOUR ENERGY SYSTEMS
ZEN & VARIOUS ASPECTS OF
TRAINING
HOMEPAGE TO ADVENTURES IN MARINE BIOLOGY
HOMEPAGE |
