Military stories from past to present, both wars.

Running of the bulls part II

August 10th, 2007 Posted in The SandGram v1.0

The bull came charging out of the ally, and off again down the street. I hobbled over to find out what happened to Dave. As I turned the corner, there he was, a bloody mess, crumpled in the corner with his large intestines spilled out over the street…
No really he was safe and sound. Turns out that he leaped up and grabbed a wrought iron balcony overhang below someone’s window. He was hanging on for dear life as he dangled above the beast until the bull could be chased away. He thought I was dead from the hit, I thought he was dead…

We drank more beer, exchanged stories, and ate more bull balls at Michael’s house. Having survived the initial bull that day, we decided to play with the bulls again the next day. This time it was in a different part of town, at a four-way intersection with hills going up two of the streets. Our crew found safe purchase above one of the streets with a good view of all the action. I decided I would be the hero,

(see the guy in the center of the picture looking down, that’s me)

and ventured out into the street where the bull was running around while the rest of the guys cheered me on and drank beer while sitting on the wall. Down in the center of town, I met up with some locals who talked me into doing the “Toro, Toro” thing with the bull. I took the challenge, being the super dumb 27-year-old Marine. Taking the cape, I began to tease the bull that was only twenty feet from me.

(look at the dumb American in the white tee-shirt holding the cape)
Everyone else sort of moved off, and once again, the bull had me in his target sight. He charged. My adrenalin was out of control; the sweat poured from my face, and I felt like I was about to take a dump as this three-thousand-pound bull started coming at me. At the last second, I performed a perfect sidestep as he went right by me at full speed. I think it was at that moment I realized that a) this was dumb and b) I didn’t want to die.

(Man this is dumb, what you don’t see is me running away fast)

Dropping the cape, I ran as fast as I could away from all the action, and had my guys pull me up on the wall. I never did the bull thing again and it never happened on my watch while visiting Lajes. Now did I ever tell you about swimming with the Great Whites off the coast of Australia?
Semper Fi,

PS,Just remember; never run in a straight line from a bull, always zigzag…


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