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THE BATTLE OF NORWICH |
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| Again, it was Saturday night and liberty on shore was the order of the day for
Glen and Ted. The usual boring activities faced them for the next 24 hours. As was their habit, on such occasions,
it would be a night of visiting bars and drinking. Such is the sailor on his night ashore. Finding female companionship was out of the question. Those gals that were out on the evening were spoken for and accompanied by some lucky local civilian or a sailor that was to be stationed in the area for time to come. Girls were smart in that respect, as they wanted more out of their date than one night on the town. It had started raining early in the afternoon and it was almost enough to discourage Glen and Ted from venturing out into the cold blustery night for what little there was to do. The other alternative would have been to spend the night on board playing cards or cribbage, but that could be done while at sea. So here they were in the little village of Norwich walking away from the busy center of town, where there was little or no chance to meet female company. As late as it was, the streets were deserted and glistened with the wetness of the rain that fell as a soft mist. The cold air of late autumn penetrated through the heavy wool pea-coats that kept them warm in spite of the gusts of wind that blew down the street. "Where to, Ted? Shall we try the Norwich Inn" Glen questioned as they walked briskly along. "What the Hell, why not?" Ted responded. It was always the same when they came to Norwich. The Norwich Inn was as lively a place as you could find and at least the music was good and occasionally there was the unattached girl waiting to meet someone to make friends with. The Norwich Inn had become a popular place for the servicemen of the area to come to in order to pass away the time they had on liberty. Navy enlisted men and men from the local Coast Guard station had made this place a busy, lively tavern. It was located a short distance from the center of the business district, but could be reached by cab or by walking. The building had housed several businesses at one time, but now the two store rooms were joined together as one by a large doorway. Men sat around the wooden tables that were usually full of partly filled bottles of beer and glasses of mix that gave evidence that a bottle of stronger drink was present among the party. Although, not in great numbers, there were usually a group of local women from the immediate area. Single girls whose boy friends were at sea and women who were bored with waiting for their husbands to return from a tour of duty. The atmosphere was more of a neighborhood tavern than a fancy night club. This appealed to those who came, as it reminded them of someplace back home. Every town had a place like this, where a more social air existed, rather than the loud, blaring night clubs where taking your money was the foremost though of the owners. As Glen and Ted approached the door of the Inn, the wind had picked up slightly. It was going to be good to get out of the cold night and enjoy a few drinks and conversation. A bottle of rum partially protruded from the side pocket of Ted's coat. They had tried to find a good bottle of bourbon that evening but whiskey had become a scarce item in this part of the country. They best they had been able to find was imported rum, and they had resigned themselves to drinking that, even though it did not appeal to their taste. Such is one of the many inconveniences of war. They opened the door and entered just as a strong gust of wind tore the handle from Glen's hand, allowing it to bang loudly against the wall. The noise it made cause those around to look up and see the two entering the room. Recovering from the embarrassment, Glen retrieved the door and closed it. At the time he didn't know that he had not closed it enough to catch the latch. Although unintentional, that little failure was to lead to the action of the evening. Glen and Ted sat at the first table available, which was across the room from the door they had just entered. As they sat down, mother nature again released a blast of air that caused the door to slip its latch and again it opened to the fullest extent. Seated and comfortable, it did not occur to either Ted or Glen that it was their responsibility to go completely across the room to re-close the open door. Sitting near the open door were four young Coast Guardsmen. It was the youngest and smallest of the group that finally got up from the table and with all the dramatics he could muster, he closed the door while glaring in the direction of the two newly arrived sailors. Rather than return to his table, the Coast Guardsman crossed the room and stood at the table occupied by Ted and Glen. He was a smallish young man that didn't appear to weigh much over 110 pounds. His stature was not as impressive as he would have liked it to be, particularly when he addressed the two newly arrived sailors with, "Where the Hell were you born? In some kind of barn? The next time you go through a door you had better be damned sure that you close it. It's too cold outside to go around leaving doors open." His voice had carried throughout the room, making all aware of his irritation. The sudden and loud threatening manner of the small man was a shock to Glen and Ted. "Where the Hell did he come from?" Ted said with surprise. "Damned if I know, but he had better grow a Hell of a lot more before he goes around telling the world what he wants them to do," Glen responded with a laugh. The exchange had not gone unnoticed by those in the room, most of which were Men of the Navy. The affront from someone from the Coast Guard was felt by all in the room. It seemed like a bit too much reaction for the minor infraction of leaving the door ajar. After all, it had not been done on purpose. As things were and still are, men in their boredom allow things to grow out of proportion. There was a spark in the air that everyone could feel. The stage was being set for more action to come. What had been a little thing was now sure to grow into greater things to come during the evening. The slow rising rage was beginning to be felt and seen, between the table of four Coast Guardsmen and the two sailor buddies that had started out hoping for a fun and happy evening. They, too, were beginning to get a charge out of the rising tension between the two factions. Nothing would have probably happened that evening had it not been for the many different sailors that came over to Glen and Ted during the following hour, assuring them that if they needed any help in settling the hash of the upstarts, they could be counted on. With each such assurance, the feeling of power and strength slowly came over the two. After all, they had the allies to take on the whole coastal fleet, if need be. Their youthfulness and inexperience denied them the wisdom of older mates who sat back and simply watched the escalation that was taking place. Another element was helping to bring the spirits of the two youthful sailors to a feeling of invincibility. The fifth of rum was nearly gone and it was bringing on a false courage and false feeling of security, that was sure to be telling in the end. "Who in the Hell did he think he was, talking to us like that?" Ted exclaimed. "They wouldn't stand a chance in Hell, with all the volunteers we have to whip their ass." Ted smiled with a gleam in his eye that had a hidden meaning. "We will have to show that asshole that the Navy is here and here to stay." "I've got an idea, Ted. Let's finish our drinks and go out that door leaving it wide open. They wouldn't have the guts to come out after us. If they did the whole Navy would be out there in a minute to stomp their asses. It could be fun." Glen added with a smile on his face. From the look on Ted's face, it was obvious that the idea sounded good to him. A little excitement and action seemed a lot better than sitting around drinking without purpose. "Hell yes," Ted responded, "there's no way that little S.O.B. could live up to his big mouth. Let's blast out of here and on the way leave the door open for him to close again. That ought to call his cards and start some shit." With that both sailors stood up and donned their coats, while at the same time giving the slight small Coast Guardsman the "go to Hell" stare. Walking towards the door they continued to look at their tormentor, so that there was little, if any, doubt left as to how they felt toward that kind of sailor. Out the door and with an obvious motion, Ted made sure that the door opened to its full swing and banged against the wall. Everyone in the room had been taking in the by-play between the two factions and were fully aware that the gauntlet had been thrown down for the opponents to pick up or do whatever they might. Without hesitation, the four Guardsmen bounded up from their seats and quickly put on their coats. There was not doubt as to what they intended to do, and as to where they were headed. Their haste was to assure that the two Navy sailors were not going to get too far before they caught up with them. They need not have worried about losing sight of the two that had so insulted them, for they had only taken a couple of steps down the sidewalk and stood waiting for the Guardsmen to come out after them, as well as the many supporters that they felt they had, from all of the assurances that had been given to them by fellow sailors. Well, they were half right. Out of the tavern came the slightly built Guardsman and his three companions. It was strange but neither Ted nor Glen had noticed the size of the three companions. Each was over six feet tall and topped the scales near the 190 pound level. Their lack of observation was rapidly realized and for a brief moment there was a feeling of panic that came over them. But what the Hell, soon there would be a street full of shipmates to more than even the weight of the pending contest of fists and brawn. The door to the tavern remained closed as the Guardsmen had left it, and as each second went by it too became apparent that there was to be only the six, then present, to settle the differences. The sides faced one another with a stance of readiness to do battle. Only one sentence was spoken, in the wet rainy night, before the quick and vigorous fight began. "Do your God Damnedest, you son-of-a-bitch," Ted exclaimed as he brought a punch around meant for the one standing nearest to him. With that, Ted found himself in a headlock by one of his tormentors, as he was repeatedly struck in and around his face by the person's other free arm. Glen was picked up by two of the remaining opponents while the third, the small one, threw punch after punch at his face and body. As with most fights, the duration of the action was short and brief. Not a hand had been laid on the Coast Guardsmen. Not a supporter for the Navy had ventured out of the door, to come to the aid of their fellow shipmates. Not much had been said by anyone. Only action that quickly ended as the sound of a shore patrolman's whistle began to blow, in the not too far distant dark. The whistle sounded the end of the action and the beginning of the running to prevent being picked up for disorderly conduct. Later, in the restroom at the bus depot, Ted and Glen were surveying the damages they had sustained in the fracas. Ted's right eye was a solid red, where it should have been white. The swelling and puffiness of his face attested to the fact that a large number of the punches sent in his direction had found their mark. Glen surveyed the missing half of his front upper tooth. When he tried to smile to get a better look, he winced with pain. After close examination and a half-hearted smile, Glen decided that the missing tooth gave him the appearance of a smiling clown. Both showed visible marks of the encounter. As the two friends left the restroom to catch the bus, one was heard to say, "We sure as Hell showed them they can't fuck with a sub sailor. We sure as Hell kicked their asses, huh?" The lessons of youth did not go wasted on those two that night. For, although they didn't say so, both had learned some valuable lessons in life. Never again would they become dependent on those that professed support, for unless it is their cause they will not get involved. They learned that sizing up the opposition is a must, unless you have eyes and teeth you can spare. They might have even learned to close a door when coming in out of the cold, however this could not be confirmed by either mother of those two venturesome lads. The facts in this story are true and for the first time the story has been told as it really occurred. You may be sure that since there was not a gathering of patrons from the bar to observe what actually took place, the results of the fight took on a different light when told the next day by the black and blue principals of this tale. "We whipped their asses." |
Copyright © 1994, 2004, 2005, 2006 by Glen Stinson & Mark Stinson