In the late ‘90’s I was serving as an active duty U.S. Marine Infantryman, and was in what I consider to be the first serious relationship of my life. Said relationship ended when she decided that the lies and attentions of one of my platoon mates were preferable to being with me, and thus cheated on me.

I was emotionally impacted about as one might expect, but thankfully had many good friends to lean on to get over my upset. Unfortunately (or fortunately, depending on your view), this took place just before our unit was set to deploy to Okinawa for six months.

If I may be indulged a short digression, the individual she chose over me was not only a liar, he was weak. Oh, he could carry his combat gear, but mentally and such, he was almost the softest person I have ever met. He also couldn’t fight his way clear of a thin layer of newspaper, left in the rain for three days. On the other hand, I had been training in martial arts for nearly a decade by that point, and spent two hours after work every day keeping, and building those skills. Putting these two facts together results in a fairly obvious power dynamic that didn’t favor him… and he knew it.

By all accounts, he went to Okinawa afraid of what I might do to him while we were there. This was not aided by the fact that I constantly had my fellow Marines telling me that I should pound him into a greasy smear in the mud, that he deserved it, and that he specifically deserved it from me. Several, in fact, offered to do it on my behalf, thinking that I was afraid of reprisals, especially since he was one rank higher than I was… at least for the first half of the deployment. In fact, my own squad leader went so far as to specifically order me to “go beat his ass. I’ll take the hit for it.”

“Sergeant, you don’t want to give that order.”

“Yeah, I do! Why not?”

“Because… if I let that part of me out… I won’t stop, and you won’t be able to stop me. You won’t be ‘taking the hit’ for assault… you’d be ‘taking the hit’ for murder.”

“… oh……..”

To the Marines that offered to go after him for me, I asked them not to, assuring them that I was handling it in my own way.

You see… the boy was petrified of me. He knew that he’d done me wrong, and he knew that, should a reckoning come, it would be on my terms, and he’d be helpless to stop whatever was to come. In fact, he was so scared of me, that one day when he did still outrank me, he happened to be having a conversation with our Battalion Commander when he saw me approaching. Now, I wasn’t going to be disrespectful to the Lt. Col. by any possible stretch… but I certainly wasn’t stepping off the sidewalk for Judas, so I simply walked straight… and he stepped - near jumped - off the sidewalk to get out of my way.

The look on the B.C.’s face, having watched a Corporal step aside for a Lance Corporal is one I will treasure for the rest of my days.

Don’t misunderstand: I was utterly professional when it came to work. Whenever I was required to interact with him in a training exercise, or if we were standing watch at the same time, I would interact in strictly professional terms and vocabulary, and ONLY on situations and subjects that were necessary. In all other ways, I regarded him much as you might regard an ant racing across a sidewalk.

The day I was promoted showed a marked increase in his fear, as he probably believed that the disparity in rank was the only thing keeping his teeth in his head, and he somehow seemed to keep an even lower profile from me than before.

All of this was going exactly according to my plan. You see, I’m more than intelligent enough to realize that a physical altercation may be temporarily satisfying, but it comes with consequences; not the LEAST of which being that to indulge in such would be to go against every lesson my martial arts instructor taught me regarding proper conduct and use of martial arts skills. Furthermore, Gentle Reader, keeping the lad in constant fear for SIX MONTHS was far more delicious and rewarding to me than any beat down could ever be.

This all culminated in a short encounter that I will never forget. After returning to the States, I began preparing to transfer to Twenty-Nine Palms to train to become a Computer Repairman - didn’t take me long to realize that dodging bullets for a living, ain’t much of one - and had turned in all my field gear. Then the new B.C. decided that he wanted to take the battalion out for a 12 mile hike. Someone realized that I could stand barracks duty, freeing up the guy that had been scheduled to go hike… because those in charge in the Infantry are jerks. Fast forward to the end of the hike, and I see Old Spineless approaching the Duty Hut. Now, I can not, to this day, explain how I knew it, but something in his approach told me that he was coming to discuss something with whoever was on duty. I could barely see his face, as he was hunched over (more than usual) with exhaustion from the march… but somehow I just… knew. He turned the corner of the doorway, raised his head… then his eyes swelled wide open, and without missing a beat, he took two steps in place to turn and continue down the hallway, as if he hadn’t stopped at the Duty Hut at all.

At first, my reaction was “Did that shit REALLY just happen?” Then I realized that I was about to let a truly golden opportunity pass me by… and I started laughing. Loudly. From the gut.

I wanted my laughter following him down that hallway. I wanted him to KNOW that what he did hadn’t gone unnoticed, and that, by laughing, I was laughing AT him for his cowardice.

That was the final encounter I ever had with him. From there, I went on to be a reasonably successful I.T. professional, eventually met my beautiful wife, and have a lovely home, and two amazing daughters.

The best revenge I ever took was to not do anything overt against who wronged me, instead choosing to live well.