Never Fight
Growing up my father taught me never to fight. Just defend. He was very interested in Boxing, and went to Len Harvey the champion boxer's training camp (winner of 122 out of 146 professional fights). He was a defensive style boxer.
My Dad's advice has served me well over my lifetime, so I have always avoided physical violence, I saw enough of it during world war 2. I can only remember using my fists very rarely.
Here is one example whilst I was going to high school.
Every morning we would all assemble in the playground, and then march into our respective classrooms. A little thin kid would always be standing next to me and next to him a big bully of a youth who was always making his life a misery.
There came a point when I couldn't stand it any longer. " leave him alone he's not doing you any harm" The bully sneered and looked around to gain everyone's attention. " And what are you going to do about it" "if you carry on you might find out." So, the scene was set.
No fights took place on the school grounds, always up the road behind the high stone wall of the Priory out of sight and after school finished. By that time all the pupils would know and a fair gathering would take place to watch.
The bully was there when I arrived acting like a fool. Everyone moved back to make room. I stood looking at him, my father's advice foremost in my mind. He came charging at me like a bull at a gate. I stepped aside and let him pass. The same scenario for a second time. On the third time I punched him on the nose and he fell to the ground bleeding.
I looked down at him "would you mind leaving the little fella alone only bullies do that" and went home.
The next morning, I was called to the principal's office to find the bully there with his mother. I explained, and there were no consequences. I left but waited until he came out " I'm glad to see you had to bring your mother for support"
End of story.
Now story 2
No physical violence.
Wherever my ship docked anywhere in the world during the War, at the first opportunity I would head for the nearest café/milk bar etc. for a quiet drink away from the ship.
In this instance it was in Brisbane Australia.
I sat alone enjoying a big milk shake in the quiet atmosphere. Just two young ladies behind the bar. Then suddenly the door burst open and three yobbo's swaggered in and proceeded to throw their weight around.
The two girls were obviously getting worried. I called out " could you please tone it down a bit" They carried on using bad language and being more obnoxious. It was obvious who the gang leader was so I walked over to him.
" I asked you nicely if you could tone it down a bit you are upsetting the young ladies" They were all laughing at me. The leader looked at me. " there are three of us and only one of you"
I moved closer to him. " well if you carry on, forget your two mates, I will break all the bones in your body and when you are lying on the ground, I'll stomp on you until you plead for me to stop"
The other two immediately turned and ran back out through the front door. When he looked around and saw his support gone, he left quick smart.
I walked back to my seat with one thing on my mind "Thanks Dad"
One of the girls the manageress came over and thanked me, her name was Bernice. From then on, I got free milk shakes.
What followed afterwards with Bernice is one of my other stories.