KALI 13

November 1978 — Okku Silvertown, Republic of Korea

I will always remember that night in November.

It was my day off. As usual, I had spent the entire day training — moving from one martial arts dojo to another. My final class that night was boxing. Afterward, I decided to go downtown to Okku Silvertown, a special entertainment district right off base filled with bars and nightclubs.

The week before, one of my friends, Craig Hutchenson, had been downtown drinking and partying with some of the local girls. He was having a little too good of a time. The military police patrol took him behind a club and severely beat him with batons. That incident would later matter — and it helped explain everything that followed.

That night, I walked into a particular club where one of the MPs’ favorite girls worked. She liked me — and he knew it. The MPs didn’t like us firefighters much anyway. We had great schedules: one day on, one day off. There was also a midnight curfew. At midnight, you either went back to base on the bus — or you stayed downtown with a woman.

I decided to stay downtown.

The MP who liked the girl approached me and told me I had to return to base. I laughed and told him no — I was staying downtown — and I started walking away. He ordered me to halt. I kept walking. He then said, “I give you a lawful order — halt.”

I flipped him off and started walking down the stairs.

He ran up and grabbed my hand as we were going down the steps. Instinct took over. I circled my wrist, applied a wrist lock, and threw him down the stairs.

When I reached the bottom, another MP grabbed me from behind and wrapped a baton around my waist. I immediately shot both arms straight up, squatted to break the grip, and threw him over my shoulder.

Suddenly, there were six MPs surrounding me, all holding batons. One went to their vehicle. Another went off to call for reinforcements. That left four MPs in front of me.

I said to them:

“Put your clubs away right now and I’ll come in. I don’t want to end up like my friend Craig.”

Instead, they started whirling their batons at me.

At that point, I had no choice but to engage. After exchanging blows, I dove straight through them and escaped with a flying shoulder roll.

I stopped and thought to myself: I’m not going anywhere. They knew exactly who I was, and I wasn’t going to flee in a foreign country.

So I yelled:

“OK — come and get me.”

A group of MPs tackled me. While I was on my back, they tried to force my hands together to cuff me. I told them they couldn’t cuff my hands unless I allowed it. They believed me. When I decided to cooperate, I let them cuff me.

One MP said, “Handcuff his feet.”

I replied, “Now you’re going to carry me. I’m not resisting.”

They took me to the town police station. The MPs I had fought with stormed in and said I was going to have to buy them new uniforms.

Later, as they loaded me into the vehicle to take me back to base, they intentionally slammed my head into the car.

I spent the night in jail.

My fire chief came to get me the next morning — smiling. At roll call later that day, he announced that I was scheduled to be promoted from Senior Airman to Sergeant, but that the promotion would be held until the situation was resolved.

The incident became major news on base. The story even made it into Stars and Stripes, circulating throughout the military. Our base commander — a former MP — started receiving calls from other commanders teasing him, saying:

“You must have weak military police if one guy can handle all of them.”

One day, while walking to see my military counsel, my friend Bruce Polkowitz, who worked in the MP K-9 unit, pulled me aside. He told me they wanted to make an example of me — hit me with an Article 15 and try to send me to Fort Leavenworth for ten years.

When I met with my counsel, he asked:

“Why couldn’t you just be like David Carradine? Just push them aside instead of hurting anyone or damaging their uniforms?”

I told him the truth. Once I engage, I don’t hear anything. My subconscious takes over — I fight. I also told him that I had warned them to put their batons away and that I would come in peacefully.

He asked if I had witnesses.

I said I could find some — and that a week earlier the MPs had beaten my friend Craig, who could come in and show his injuries.

Because I was restricted to base, Bruce went downtown and found witnesses who heard me say:

“Put your clubs away and I’ll come in.”

After that, they backed off.

They offered me a deal: a Letter of Reprimand, a $500 fine, 60 days restricted to base, and loss of a stripe, demoting me to Airman First Class.

I accepted.

I completed my full term in the Air Force. When I was discharged, my DD-214 listed me as an E-4, not an E-3, and I received an Honorable Discharge.

Bruce Polkowitz later became Chief of Police in New Jersey.

When I returned home, I waited all day in line to apply for the Los Angeles Fire Department. I was rescue certified, a chief paramedic, and licensed on all fire apparatus — crash and structural. But when I reached the window, the clerk told me she couldn’t give me an application because I was Caucasian. Affirmative Action had just begun in 1979.

All of my minority friends received applications — and eventually retired from the department.

I did the only thing I knew how to do.

I opened my first dojo in San Pedro. Rent was $120 a month.

That decision started everything.

If I had gone to Fort Leavenworth, there would be no Octagon.
If I had joined the fire department, there would be no UFC.
Judo, Jiu-Jitsu, and wrestling would have been regulated.

This wasn’t luck.

It was destiny.

And this is my story.

Specification 1: Preliminary investigation has disclosed that you did, at Okku Silvertown, Republic of Korea, on or about 27 November 1978, unlawfully kick in the thigh and chest, Airman First Class Randy J. Lavalle, a security policeman in the ex*****on of his duties, in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 128.

Specification 2: Further investigation has disclosed that you did, at Okku Silvertown, Republic of Korea, on or about 27 November 1978, unlawfully kick in the head, Airman First Class James B. Kenna, a security policeman in the ex*****on of his duties, in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 128.

Specification 3: Further investigation has disclosed that you did, at Okku Silvertown, Republic of Korea, on or about 27 November 1978, unlawfully strike in the face and about the shoulders and kick in the chest, Sergeant Lawrence D. Smith, a security policeman in the ex*****on of his duties, in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 128.

Specification 4: Further investigation has disclosed that you did, at Okku Silvertown, Republic of Korea, on or about 27 November 1978, unlawfully push and shove with your hands, Staff Sergeant Gary P. Bubar, a security policeman in the ex*****on of his duties, in violation of the Uniform Code of Military Justice, Article 128.

Never forget get this night in Korea almost got 10 years Ft. Leavenworth. Proof in comments.

This is the movie Shootfighter 1993 where I expose this dynamic Martial Art to the world. Now I am going to share this art to the world here. Taught from A-Z in an evolved systematic way for beginners, advanced and instructors.

https://youtu.be/TjbZXGt6onU?si=u5nq0oSpCg-IIy8-