Читать книгу Rage. The Legend of "Baseball Bill" Denehy онлайн

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The National Guard enlistment consisted of four months of boot camp at Fort Dix followed by six years of weekend service in New Jersey, rather than two years of trekking through the rice paddies while getting shot at in Vietnam.

Captain Dzailo had fixed me up, all right. I owe you, captain.

I was an excellent marksman with a .45-caliber pistol, and I was adept at hand-to-hand combat. In fact, of all the soldiers in my battalion, hundreds of men, I finished with the highest proficiency score. I had a 97.5 score out of 100 for my skill shooting a .45 caliber, an M-16, and a mortar; for fighting hand to hand; and for my proficiency in medical training. I had the highest score in the battalion. I’m damn proud of that. I still have the trophy.

We learned hand-to-hand combat, a skill I really loved. It was a perfect vehicle to unleash my aggression and pent-up anger. One of the soldiers I fought was Boston Red Sox outfielder Tony Conigliaro. Tony was cocky. He came at me with a rifle. I parried, stepped to the side, and hit him with my elbow right in the forehead, almost knocking him out.