Summer 1995

It was a humid Saturday night...
and we had the keg set up in Joe's front yard. It must have rained the night before because I can remember there being a large mud puddle in his driveway.

I was two years into my contract serving with the Marine Corps. Joe had just gotten orders to be sent to Japan and we were celebrating his impending departure. The local P.D. had already responded to Joe's house for our loud music that night. Each time we turned the music down and apologized but the music seemed to return to full volume a few minutes after the cops left. We were, after all, twenty five or so half drunken young Marines and I'm sure they didn't particularly want to start a big brouhaha over some loud music.

There were about nine guys drinking beer across the street and we invited them over to our party to share our keg. We didn't know these guys as they were from a different unit. Those guys were already pretty tore up, they had started drinking waaaaaaaay before we began our festivities.

The dude that lived across the street began yelling at everyone and generally being a large pain in the ass. He started calling his wife a "Stupid Bitch!!!" and promptly pushed her down into the mud puddle, then threw a lit cigarette into her face. Joe's wife told the guy he needed to leave and he began yelling at her and spit on her.

I snatched old boy up, threw him over my shoulder and began to run down the road with him. I was telling him to calm down and go home to sleep it off, we didn't want any trouble at our party. He began screaming profanities in my ear and started tearing the belt loops off my pants. The next thing I knew I was surrounded by seven or so of his boozed up pals. They began punching me in the head telling me to let their friend go. I took the guy on my shoulder to the ground sending him face first into the pavement, he went unconscious upon eating the road. One of his buddies dragged him out of the circle while the rest of them kicked and stomped me.

I don't remember feeling any pain. All I remember is the ferocity and relentlessness of their attack and wondering how a group of people could be so animalistic. I got to my feet with them still kicking and punching at me, managed to punch a couple of them in their grimy mouths and then hearing someone yelling that they had called the police. The attackers ran away.

I walked back to Joe's house with a new realization that I've carried with me since. Sometimes you have to fight like hell for what's right even when the odds are stacked against you. You have to go for your enemies throat with as much ferocity as they are coming at yours. That is all they respect and understand.
Incidentally that guys wife called me a "Mother fucker!!!" for knocking her husband unconscious. Welcome to the wide world of helping out the victimized.