Bonus  ONE

Jim's Story, Friday, May 4, 1962, 1600 hours, McGuire Air Force Base, New Jersey

War is ugly. There is a feeling of gratitude that my assignment is in the United States. The turmoil in Southeast Asia is far away where military personnel are losing their lives daily. The warning has sounded and told us to be ready if needed to serve in areas torn with fighting.

Colonel William Rogers said, "We do not need all crews to be on standby tonight - two crews can go home. The name of each crew team is on a piece of paper. Those slips are in my hat. We will let the squadron clerk draw two. These men will be free until we meet tomorrow."

"Clerk, draw two names and read who will have tonight off."

Armstrong and Matthews squads were drawn. That made me elated. A warmth was rushing from my body. My heart was sprinting which brought about my wish to be home instantly. My name is Lieutenant Colonel James Matthews. Having the finest job and the greatest family in the world motivates me to do a decent job.

Several attempts to call my wife, Susan, ended in a busy beep. Going home early produced delight that was in my heart. I could not contain myself, and wanted to shout.

South Hampton, New Jersey was a terrific place to live. It was where I grew up. My mother died with cancer when I was ten years old. My dad passed away two years ago with liver problems. It was a wonderful place for my daughter, Shelly, to grow up. She was nine. My wife and I had been high school and college sweethearts.

Surprising them, and taking my loved ones to dinner and a movie gives me pleasure. A rush through my body had me breathing deeper and longer. I could fly with out an airplane.

My best friend's truck was in the driveway. Unlocking the door there was no one in the living area, or in the kitchen. I heard muffled sounds coming from the bedroom. Opening the door, I found Steve and Susan in bed naked. My heart sank. My legs felt like they would collapse. What did I do wrong? I felt a tightness in my heart.

The divorce hearing, informed me that Shelly was not my daughter, but Steve was her father. My heart sank. Nine years was a lie. Susan had lied that I was Shelly's father, and I had no reason not to believe it. My heart was heavy with pain. My heart and my brain shouted NO, NO, and NO again.

Several of the guys I was stationed with had spent time on temporary duty (TDY) in Germany. They wanted to return. Thus, they put in for a permanent transfer request. There was no reason to stay in New Jersey. My family was disintegrated. The focus of my mind was to run away and hide. Thinking it would be nice to join my buddies and asking for a request to transfer to Germany gave me an enjoyable feeling. Thirty days later I received orders to be assigned to Thailand. My world was caving in since I could not even get the assignment requested. The desire to hit someone or something was nagging my thoughts. My life was decaying before me. I gazed blankly at my palms, but nothing registered.

Wednesday, July 4, 1962, My Independence

Jim - Special Duty: FFF – Pain to Relieve Pain

Working out in the gym until I hurt badly, gave me a little relief. It helped to keep the inner pain at bay! Increasing the weights and tension settings daily helped me sport a six-pack and gain massive muscle. My workout buddy, Fred, suggested that Fear-Fists-Feet (FFF) techniques would to do something to help me loosen up my newly acquired body. He recommended that I practice capability methods. I discovered that FFF did help to keep me limber and add strength, not just muscle. Seeing his group training with kick-boxing, flipping and clinching procedures assisted me in acquiring a few skills. Fred implied that the participants of FFF at McGuire were amateurs.

I was hungry to learn FFF. A couple of months went by fast and I was improving rapidly. Fred said, "Majaa', we cain't teach you no more. Yo' need to go temp' duty next door to Ft Dix. There's a spec'l infantry unit that concentrates in FFF. Dey wear dah green hats, dat's 'Green Berets.' Dey workout eight hours a day. Yo'll learn fast 'o di' trying."

Personnel had the forms ready, but they indicated that the deadline had passed for Temporary Duty in the program at Ft Dix. Acceptance seemed impossible. Much to my surprise that afternoon I received orders to report to Ft Dix the next Monday.

I knew Fred was right. The need for something to keep my mind clear was greatly desired. Hopefully, the diversion will help me get my mind off my troubles. Advanced FFF might be the answer! It will kill me or make me a better person.

Fort Dix – Monday, July 9, 1962, 0800 hours

The first day of training revealed me being one of fifteen recruits. We were informed that we would face a challenge where we would fight for three minutes. All trainees received instruction in basic techniques with which most of us were already familiar. We were notified not to forget the basics, because 80 percent of what we would need to use in FFF were the first ten skills. I had practiced in the ring, but I had never really fought anyone. We were informed that we could drop out at any time. It wasn't encouraging to look forward to the battle.

The afternoon of day one I was paired to be up for the first challenge. Rod, a twenty-one day student, and junior NCO (E5) was my opponent. We started by blocking each other's hits and kicks. Then Rod revved up the hitting and kicking to fast speed. It was all that I could do to block what was thrown at me. A young attractive Army nurse entered the training area. Rod focused his gaze on her. Kicking him on the back of the leg right behind the knee caused Rod to drop to the mat. I was credited with the 'take down' and a win, though feeling like I had cheated. Others claimed that if he had been paying attention he would not have lost.

The next nine days we had a morning and an afternoon challenge. Seven did not show up for day two of training. Eighteen challenges were lost by me during these nine days, but I was able to discern my mistakes and weaknesses and those of my opponent. We were free after supper each day, but most students came back to practice from 5:30 to 9:30 PM. We practiced hard and scheduled our own challenges. Winning a few of these confrontations added to my confidence. Each night afforded me rest. I slept solid. No sadness. No bad dreams! It was weird to experience calmness in my mind and hope in my future. Not wanting my peaceful nights to evaporate pushed me harder. In order to maintain it meant I needed to fight tougher.

Day Eleven, Friday, July 13, 1962 through Day Twenty, Friday, July 20, 1962

Something did change within me. Fighting with a new determination propelled me to develop faster. The instructors began to call me 'FURIOUS.' Kicking and hitting with speed surprised me. One instructor said that I fought like an angry man. He may be right. Perhaps the anger was directed to myself for being so stupid. Nine-years worth of stupid had built up within me.

Missing Shelly crushed me. The courts say she is not mine. I can only dream. I loved her before she was born.

'FURIOUS' Was Born – Day 21, Saturday, July 21, 1962

An introduction to John 'BADASS' Jordon, ranked 169th in career FFF meant nothing to me. Professional FFF was not in my vocabulary. It seems the seed developed during WWI when one army company confronting another claimed to have the best 'close combat' soldier. It graduated to one post putting up their top FFF fighter against another post's finest. As time progressed, the Canadians offered their top FFF fighter against the United States elite. Now it is world-wide.

I would be facing John that afternoon at 2:00 PM. Several instructors escorted me into the arena which already had five or six hundred spectators including men, women, enlisted and officers. United States Air Force and Army were represented. I thought to myself, "What have I gotten into?" The instructors provided me with Air Force blue boxing shorts, and a blue robe with gold trim was thrown around my shoulders. The back read 'FURIOUS.'

Sgt. Holden, one of my instructors, was my aid. He told me I was the best trainee he had ever seen. He said, "Fight like 'hell.' Fight with the same rage and determination that you demonstrated the last few challenges. You will have two three minute rounds with a two minute break between rounds. You can do this!"

"Holden, who are the men behind me?"

"They are the top FFF fighters in the world."

"And who is the Air Force Chief Master Sergeant that everyone is greeting."

"That is 'JEOPARDY' the Grand International Champion of professional FFF."

The announcer made introductions to the crowd. I barely heard a word as my heart was beating rapidly. The bell rang, and John was facing me. We exchanged a Thai Wye (bowing head slightly and pushing fingers together like praying hands) and the fight began. Both of us started to circle each other hitting and kicking rapidly. Every hit and kick were immediately blocked. John let his left shoulder drop slightly. Circling behind John let me put him in a neck clinch. I had cut off his ability to breathe. Very quietly, he started slapping his hip and said "Khun pen lak" – (คุณเป็นหลัก - You are Master!) which is the same as saying, "I give up!" The referee stopped the fight, took my hand and lifted my arm in the air declaring me as the winner. The announcer expressed, "In two minutes and thirty seconds, 'Furious' won by a 'Khun pen lak.'" The audience went wild. They applauded and shouted, "Great show!"

The crowd dissipated speedily. A few lingered to shake my hand and to congratulate me on the win. An Air Force General Beauford Gofourth said, "Well done son! We need more people like you!" Two Army nurses pressed pieces of paper into my hand and each said, "Call me!" Every man in the reserved section congratulated me and said, "Welcome to the club." I had no idea what they meant by that remark. Holden told me I would be ranked according to what the group of FFF fighters determined today, and on the way I conducted myself!

At last 'JEOPARDY' held out his hand to commend me and said, "How long you been fighting?" "Twenty-one days." "How long you been practicing FFF?" "About three months." 'JEOPARDY' said, "Sir, keep up the good work! How long did you practice the neck cinch?" "Never did, just saw it on a training film last night." "Sir, you have a good eye for the game."

The feeling was great portraying me walking away with a new swagger. My shoulders felt taller, as I was a different man, a more poised man. At supper my training mates watched me quietly. Detecting the expression in their eyes gave me a sensation that was new. They had a fresh respect for the man sitting at their table.

At practice that evening one of the nurses that had pressed her phone number in my hand said, "I am Leslie. You didn't call me nor my roommate. Can we talk?" I said, "Let's go to the breakroom. No one is in there right now. We can talk in private." Grinning, she said, "OK."

"Leslie, you are the hottest woman I have ever seen! But I am rebounding from a nasty divorce. In a few days I will be moving to Thailand. I do not believe in 'one night' stands, nor short-time relationships. Sorry!"

She smiled and stared at me saying, "thanks for the honesty." She walked over, and threw her arms around me, responding, "You need time to heal."

My training mates whistled and made a few lewd 'cat-calls.' I smiled and shook my head and waved them off. A young man put out his hand, and shook mine saying, "I'm Ronald. I met you earlier at ring-side. I have fought professionally in the FFF for five years, and am ranked 99. I will be your challenge tomorrow at 2:00 PM at the training center."

He seemed like a nice young man. I don't want to hurt anyone.

Tuk Tuk