In late December 2006, an eighty-five-year-old man left his favorite restaurant and headed for his parked car. He had just enjoyed his dinner of crispy-fried filet of sole, half of which he had eaten and the other half of which the restaurant staff had dutifully wrapped “to go.”
When the elderly man, aided by a cane, arrived at his car, he slipped the key into the passenger-side door lock, opened the door, and placed his doggy bag on the sea. Then he closed the door.
That was when the mugger struck, a hard blow on the right side of the man’s head that broke his glasses’ frame and cut him above the eye. Somewhat softened by the bill of his baseball-style cap, the blow nonetheless staggered the elderly man. He felt himself falling, but was able to catch himself by bracing his arms on the cane.
Blood clouded the vision in the man’s right eye, but from his left he saw his attacker’s feet on the sidewalk before him, and in one swift motion he brought the cane up between them. The mugger yelped as the cane connected with his testicles, and he stumbled back. With the advantage now on his side, the old man reversed the cane and,using the curved handle, swung it like a baseball bat against each of the mugger’s shins. The cane connected with a resounding crack and the mugger hit the pavement like a felled ox. The old man swung the cane again, this time taking aim on his attacker’s knees, and heard the pop of wood striking bone. He delivered another blow to the man’s crotch.
By now the mugger was rolling on the ground, howling in pain, his arms shielding his head in anticipation of being hit there. Instead, the elderly man brought the cane down two more times, once to each side of the rib cage, cracking bones with each swing. He then leaned back against his car and waited for the police.
— Larry Alexander, Shadows in the Jungle; The Alamo Scouts Behind Japanese Lines in World War II.
The mugger very foolishly picked out a former Alamo Scout as his victim.
Kind of makes me think of an old mentor.