Friday, June 14, 2013

A Knife Fight? Sure, Why Not?


 One of my fondest memories while trying to fit in with the veterans as I arrived at my unit was a house party in Seattle.  I bought a case of Coors Light and showed up to a bunch of “boo’s.”
            “Coors Light? What the fuck is that shit?” Angel joked.
            “I’m guessing this is a Bud Light kinda crowd?”  I asked.
            “Yeah, leave that shit outside.  We got a keg in the kitchen.”
            I left my silver bullet babies on the deck and ventured in to a world of drunken brotherhood.  I got nothing but head nods on the deck and felt awkward.  The first thing I saw as I passed thru the doorway was a guy carrying what looked to be a beer bong, but the funnel at the top was unfamiliar. 
            “How do you like that, Vance,” asked Angel.
“What’s with the deformed metal funnel?”
“That came off an RPG that got stuck in the side of one of our Strykers.  Great souvenir, bro.”
“That’s awesome.”
My eyes were wide open and I was sporting a big smile.  I couldn’t wait to be able to tell random stories like that.  I kept pushing thru the crowded house that would eventually attract the local college crowd as well.  I wandered into an open area where some new guys were hanging out with vets so I jumped in to hang out. 
“Yo, Vance, sit down,” said a veteran named G as he stood up to give me his seat.
“Me? No way man, I can’t do that.  That’s your seat!” I pleaded.
“Why aint you takin’ that seat?”
“I haven’t done anything to earn a seat!”
G laughed, “Yo, we all the same here!”
It wasn’t much, but it was the nicest offer I’d gotten in a while.  G had E-3 rank, making him lower ranking than me.  I came in as an E-4 simply because I had a college degree, which I believe to be the army’s greatest tragedy along with certain lieutenants.  G was a veteran and I was fresh out of basic training and this man was supposed to be a subordinate to me?  Fuck that.  I looked up to G and whenever he said something, I listened.  G was Hispanic with a thick accent, shaved head, stood about 5’5,” lifted a lot of weights enabling him to keep up with anybody and kinda looked like a mini Vin Diesel.  He was also a guy I chose to punch me in the jaw during one of our crazy barracks nights.  Poor decision.  He even warned me.  I swear to this day he was holding back though.  If he really wanted to, he could’ve caved my face in with ease.
Across the room I saw some girls pouring beer into a softball cleat.  Where there are girls doing silly things with alcohol, there will be curious guys.
“What’s with the ‘shoe-o-beer’?” I asked
“We’re all on a softball team and these new bitches have to drink from it for initiation,” one of them proclaimed while two younger girls grimaced.
“Oh damn, that cleat looks used and abused.”
“A whole season’s worth of use and abuse.”
As the cleat was held up for freshman humiliation and people chanting “drink,” I ventured into the kitchen.  That’s where I met up with Yancey Baker.  He was sitting on a stool at the kitchen bar with a fifth of Wild Turkey; a substance I hadn’t tried before.  Yancey was of average height, brown haired, thin, white, proud Alabamian from the mortar platoon who could throw down ‘til the sun came up. 
“Vance!  Come here and have a drink of whiskey with me,” he ordered from across the kitchen as I passed the line to the keg stand.
“I don’t know man,” I said.
Yancey then proceeded to take out his left eye and hold it on the tip of his left index finger.  He then gave me a big grin. 
“You mean to tell me you can’t sit down and have one fuckin’ drink with me at this party?”
“Baker, I’ll drink as much as you want me to.”
“Aight then.”
Yancey then told me the story of how he lost his eye when a car bomb exploded right next to his Stryker as he was standing out of one of the hatches.  I got to know Yancey real good that night as I learned of the sacrifices some of us would have to make without having a choice.  I was impressed with how real the fake eye looked.  Yancey was happy with it, tossed it in his mouth as if to clean it and then put it back in his socket while we both laughed over a bottle of Wild Turkey. 
From the conversation with Yancey and my first encounter with Wild Turkey things got a little crazy.  After doing a couple rounds of keg stands I was feeling great.  All of a sudden I hear one of the vets screaming at a local guy about messing with his girl.  Clark was the vet and he was no bigger than I was, but a lot more jumpy.  Something about him liking “snow,” but it was too warm outside for that.  He did have an attractive girl and with this much alcohol and people, I’m sure someone made a pass at her and Clark wasn’t in the right mindset to keep calm about it.  Before I knew it, a circle had formed in the kitchen and Clark was threatening a guy twice his size when things took a turn for the worse.  The guy pulled out a knife.
I’m not a rocket scientist, but there’s not a whole lot your army training can do for you when you’re drunk and stuck in a small space with a guy twice your size holding a knife.  You’re going to get shanked.  So what does my dumb ass do?  I jump right in front of Clark and start screaming at the guy to make a move.  Luckily for both Clark and I, this local was smart enough to realize there were a lot more of us and just a few of his friends.  He backed down and left.  Clark was impressed I had the balls to try to help and that was enough for me to be happy.  Wild end to a great night.
Even the next day had an extra surprise.
“Where’s Rojas?” I asked.
            “I’m right here, dude.  I just got back,” Rojas said as he walked up to the third floor of the barracks.
            “Shit man, what happened to you last night?”
            “I wandered off, so I guess my ride left me.  I woke up on a stranger’s recliner a couple houses down from the party.”
            “That’s awesome.”
The day after a crazy night we all thought we would chill out and relax.  Nope, not anymore.  It was taught to us from the beginning that it was a life style to work hard all day and party your ass off all night.  It was frowned upon to show up to morning PT without a funny story to tell or reek of booze.  As long as we could hold ourselves up, keep our mouth shut and do the exercises, superiors would put up with how the smell of alcohol was seeping from our pores.  The weekends weren’t even a time to rest the liver.  They just allowed more time to booze.  Six years later I’m sure my liver was making a big sigh of relief.

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