Death of a Wooden Shoe - U.S. Coast Guard

We now had the attention of everyone in the bar, including Howie. He sternly
asked us to, "keep it down for crissake!" I was embarrassed, and even though
this hateful man was possibly three times my age and obviously of very little
physical strength, or perhaps because of it, I could not prompt myself to hit him. I
had no doubt whatsoever that I could destroy him in two or three punches, and I
did not fear being hurt by him. Instead of fighting, I chose to leave the bar. I spun
about and headed for the exit. He was still shouting!
"Americans have power but no guts!!"
I knew I would never forgive myself for walking away from him. The incident
would surely begin a long period of self examination. Was I a coward?
Something in the outer me said ‘hell no!!’ At the same time, something very deep
in me asked, ‘Are you sure? Are you? Why didn’t you hit the bastard?! ’cause he
was so old? Shouldn’t there ever be justification for hitting a person just because
they are older? Of course not. You should be ashamed of yourself for thinking
so... But why should I feel ashamed, dammit!? Would I have enjoyed a feeling of
victory if that old man ended up lying flat on the floor at my feet? Would the bar
patrons have applauded me?’
I knew I would retain conflicting thoughts for a long time to come. I hurried back
to the bar to do what I should have done. I wanted much to kill him! But why did I
experience such relief when I learned no one had noticed his leaving?
The incident did something awful to my self confidence. From now on I would
wonder and fear that maybe I am a coward. Worse, that while being a coward, I
would become a laughing stock. I would be ridiculed.
I began to study the men whom I were to sail with. Mentally I evaluated each of
them. Were the big, tough-looking ones like Petrenko really as tough as they
appeared or was toughness just a veneer? Were the meek and mild ones like
Elmer Comer really just mice? Or was his exterior a veneer also? I know that I
should not have, but I paid a surprise visit to Peggy’s house. It helped lighten my
mood.
July 4, Saturday; Nanok.
Independence Day!
Anniversary of America’s independence since 1776 and here we are at war.
Shame on all mankind.
I spend the first half of the day stowing ammunition into Nanok's hold. A tough,
heavy chore. Schafer says it is to assure us of continued independence.
30