pretty fast and the impact was going to be hard. ―Hold on Sirs!‖ was about all I could get out a split second before we hit. They both hit the loading ramp and nearly went down. I don‘t think the Captain was very pleased with our taxi service. The Captain is not shown in the below picture.
Not so good times!
We were in Punta Arenas and I was with EM3 Larry Parker. We were on the way back to the ship and had just hit the entrance area to the pier. I don‘t remember his name but we ran into a short V- built BM3. He was in a foul mood and started in on Parker pretty heavy. He popped off to me but focused on Larry for reason. Larry was from Tennessee and he was just one of those really laid back nice guys and didn‘t have a mean bone in his body. Larry was kind of a clown and really funny. Boats had punched him on the arm and shoved him a few times. Larry would just laugh and try to walk around him. Finally I said; Why don‘t you lay off we don‘t want trouble.
He was fairly stout and reached over and grabbed the left sleeve of my black silk ―Greenland‖ jacket and twisted it in his hand as he yanked me towards him. He drew his fist back and said: You want some of this? Now I was raised on the streets of Louisville and fighting to me was a means of survival. I was not as big as he was but I was fairly fast. Some of you guys called me Popeye and I thought I had a real punch. I let him have a quick short right in the snot locker. His hands dropped and I let him have two more fast hard rights. He looked stunned but I‘m thinking this is not working he is still standing there.
Suddenly the dock guard, a Chilean soldier with a rifle stepped in between us and said something. He then pointed to the ship. We all three understood and complied. I was relieved he had stopped the fight. As we were going up the gangway the BM3 said; Henderson you tell anybody about this and I‘m going to beat your ass. He looked serious so I believed him.