Don't mess with Marines back from Vietnam.
Years ago, my dad told me a true story about Larry, his former bunk mate at Marine boot camp. During some hellish fighting in the jungles of Vietnam, my dad and Larry became best friends. I guess that would happen when you got each others backs. Anyway, two years after the war, my dad and Larry were pulling out of the local greasy spoon diner when some hillbilly boys in a pick-up truck chucked a full beer bottle and hit Larry square in the neck which knocked the wind out of him. Being a tough guy, Larry gave a wave to my dad and made a specific gesture, then they tailed the truck at about 50 meters until they got into heavy traffic at an intersection. My dad and Larry weaved through the traffic and pulled up alongside the truck, one bike on each side. My dad said the guys were younger, late teens early 20s and their jaws dropped as both my dad and Larry pulled out their knives and cut all four tires, flattening them instantly to the rims. Larry then approached the driver and softly said, “next time, it's your necks; I'll see you boys around". My dad and Larry then pulled to the side of the road as the traffic began to move again to make sure Larry was okay. They each lit up a smoke and watched to see what the boys would do. My dad said that they were so afraid that they just sat in the truck. After their smokes were finished, Larry and my dad rode away. When my dad told me that story, he finished it with, "If you ever think of doing something like that, I'll kill you... times were different then and so was I.”
By the way, Larry and my dad are still great friends... actually, I call him Uncle Larry and I have since I could speak.
Sparty
