Gary was a platoon sergeant, and Pearl was his wife. Gary is a Vietnam combat vet.

After dinner at their home, Gary gave us a story of his return from war. He assured me that most of the firefights he in which had been involved were what he called firestorms. Wounded, he was later released from the hospital and documented as a sufferer of combat fatigue, a condition that resulted in his dread of firearms of any kind.

What truly bugged him about this was that he loved to hunt -- or at least he used to. He now had difficulty swatting flies.

One day, his sweet Pearl had simply had enough of his moping around and practically threw his fishing tackle at him. She then tossed him out the front door, telling him not to come back home without an ice chest of sea bass for the freezer.

Climbing into his truck, Gary headed out to the nearest bar, where he sat, drank and moped some more. After a bit of soul searching, he got into his boat and headed out.

The hook was out quite a ways, and Gary was sitting in the back of the boat, dozing in and out. After a couple hours, a shadow passed over him and he blinked his eyes open. Not 15 feet away, one monstrous eye was looking back at him. A curious gray whale had stopped by to see what was going on.

Gary called it a "religious experience."

Well, he returned home with 2 sea bass. The next weekend, he took down his rifle and headed out for dear. By the following Monday, the freezer was full.

When I met him in the early 80s, apparently quite recovered, Gary was our chief armorer.

Personal note:
I used to fish quite a bit myself. My favorite hole would have to be Lago Gatun, on the Panama Canal. I haven't fished since then -- about 1984 -- but it's more because of the contaminants in America's "industrialized" fishing holes. I prefer the nice, clean waters of jungle-land. Even then, I recall hesitating before the eventual beheading.

I have no answers, ER, just a couple of stories.

As we grow older, it seems life becomes more and more precious, no matter what that life form might be. On the other hand, a young Hindu would be hard put to kill a gnat.

A dilemma, sure, but it's certainly not a bad thing.