My Friend Frank

Five greyhounds of the sea were pulling in to Talcahuano, Chile. Our squadron included 2 frigates, 2 destroyers and ship full of Jarheads. I say Jarheads with the utmost of respect. Hahaha I was at my usual station as Line Lead 6. It was late fall here and the air was cold and damp. There was a slight wind coming off the sea which made the air even colder. We had been out for almost 4 months and sorely in need of some downtime.
The bight was looped over the bollard on the pier and I signaled for the capstan operator to take slack out of the line. Slowly the hawser began to tighten and pulled the stern closer to the pier. I held up a clenched fist indicating to hold the line. The Capstan operator saw my signal and stopped the pull. The hawser was tight now. Secure the line, put on the rat guards and ITS LIBERTY TIME.
After a quick shower, I threw on my Peacoat, then my buddies and I headed out for the nearest watering hole. There is plenty of them in every port city.

We found a nice place. The Portal was the name of the joint. The lights were low and smoke filled my nostrils as I walked along the well worn wooden floor. I pulled up a stool, “Dos Cervezas” I called to the bar tender. She was quick and I ordered a whiskey to go with them. I looked around as I enjoyed a long slow pull and the taste of an almost forgotten aroma of a cold beer. There were my buddies and some jarheads and maritime seamen from the freighters, Every man enjoying a few drinks and the company of some very nice looking ladies.
I had just put that shot glass to my lips when I got bumped hard enough to spill the whole thing. Damn., I looked around and saw this guy standing there. “Another whiskey” I ordered, ‘ And put it on HIS TAB” pointing to the Jarhead that just spilled my drink.

“Hey,” he growled at me,” I only buy drinks for women, and you ain't wearin a dress.”
Not going to let that go, I got up off the stool and turned to him.
Jesus, this guy was big. About 6' 3,, 240.. I said, Hey whats the mattter couldn't get a date
with the other Marines tonight or are YOU the one that wears the dress?
It was obvious, he had already had a few.
It took a few seconds but slowly, his eyes changed and his face turned red as fire as he finally figured I just insulted him, the Marines and his manhood. Any one of which was reason enough to justify killing me, I’m sure.

I knew it was coming and ducked as a fist the size of a softball went sailing by my head.
I was already cocked and let it fly I hit that jarhead with as much
force as 170 pounds of sinew and steel possibly could, right square into the middle of his face... I KNEW I had knocked him into next week.
After reeling back from the blow, I opened my eyes to see he had not moved. He just stood there as if a fly landed on his chin and brushed it off with a wave of his hand.

I was not sure if it was the alcohol or I had not hit him hard enough. It was then I had an “Oh shit, I’m in trouble now’ kind of moment, and in that instant, he reached down, grabbed me up and was about to crush me, when my buddy hit him across the back with a chair..
The force of being struck from behind shoved us up against the wall close to the door.
He was not letting go of me.. I wound up to it him again when I got a fist from
nowhere, right on my chin.. I bet Rocky Balboa never saw all the stars I saw. I could not see it but I could hear the mayhem. There were screams of warriors attacking and screams of pain. Swabbies and Jarheads going at, tooth and nail, each one giving as good as they got. Chairs breaking and tables overturning I did catch as this giant Jarhead swung me around and held me against the wall. I had the “moment” thought again. It was then we were hit again, from where I have no idea. We slammed into the door where his massive body broke the door, frame and all and ol jolly green jarhead did not let go of me for one second.

We rolled into the street. Dirty, bloodied and dishelveled, we both lay there. I was too tired from just trying not to let the guy kill me and he was just too drunk. I only remember whistles from Shore Patrol and police sirens.
Not wanting to spend the night in the brig or the local jail, I grabbed ol Jarhead, using everything I had left and pulled him up. We stumbled down the street just making the corner as the cops and Shore Patrol showed up ..
He was just lucid enough to realize I just saved his bacon. Thanks he
said, Names' Frank Wilson. Yours?
No problem, I replied, after telling him mine.

Stumbling along so as not to fall over and look worse than we did, we helped each other make it back to close to our ships. At that point he headed off, "Thanks again , he said, ,I replied, YOUR WELCOME, Dumb Ass Jarhead.

As I walked to the brow of my ship, I heard a "STUPID SWABBIE.
AND THAT is how I met Frank Wilson. It was over 30 years ago. Sometimes, it seems longer than I can really remember, and other times, just like yesterday.
Good story Wiz!
Great story, Wiz.  Let me know if you want some help editing it.  I would be happy to help but I need an e-mail that doesn't bounce back:(.
 
Really good story. I could see it all happening before my eyes.
Nice Wiz! Starting a friendship with a good ole punch! :D
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