And then the sharks came

As told to his neice, Carolyn Steele Agosta 

I ain’t scared of nothing, see?

I mean, people talk about courage and bravery and all that. . .well, it’s no big deal. You just get up each day and go through life and you don’t even know when it is you’re being brave; in fact, usually you’re not being brave at all, you’re just getting through it the best you can and afterwards people say, gosh that took courage, but it didn’t, you see? It was just plain dumb luck that you ended up looking that way.

At my age, there ain’t so much to be afraid of anymore. Except maybe death and it’s coming for you whether you’re afraid or not. What do I care anyway? My wife’s dead and my kids are grown up enough to care for themselves and my body’s shot to hell so I know it ain’t going to be long, so why worry about it?

I’ve lived through the Depression and World War II and hard times and being broke. Doesn’t take courage to do it. ‘Cause you got no choice, you just get through it.

Like the time my ship, the USS Maddox, got sunk off the coast of Italy, back in ’43. Shit, I was scared. We never even knew what hit us, all of a sudden there were the sirens going off and everybody running around like it was going to do any good and pulling on the life jackets and sliding down the side of the ship into the black water. Barnacles tore the hell out of our legs and we were bleeding like stuck pigs. And the smell of oil and salt water and fear and blood and smoke. Men calling, yelling, cursing. Then floating around and it got silent. And then the sharks came.

Yeah, then the sharks came. Lured by the blood and the movement, they picked us off like cheese crackers on a party tray. We could see the lights of the rescue ship and we prayed. Lord God, we prayed. Some men tried to swim to the center, not to be on the outer ring of men, not to be pulled under and tossed up and chewed to hell. But the movement of their legs in the water just pulled the sharks closer. You could hear the screams. You could taste blood and vomit and sea water in your own mouth and you prayed God please get me out of here.

And then the rescue boats came and you tried to get there and still not move your legs and you pushed other men in front of you, just please God let us all get there, all of us. Joe and Mike and Red and Tony and Me, God. All of us, God. And you helped each other into the boat, and you cried from the sheer relief when you got in and looked at your legs and they were still there.

It got real quiet. Just those boats rocking in the almighty sea. We sat there, shivering with the cold, trying not to think, looking around sometimes, trying to see who was there and who wasn't. And then trying not to think some more.

Dawn came. Hope came. Then the Italians came and strafed the hell out of us. The captain got it and I thought we were all gonna buy it, after surviving the explosion and the water and the sharks. Goddammit. Seventy-four of us survived, out of almost 300 men.

And afterwards we got ribbons and medals and they were slapping our backs and telling us how courageous we were. And then they sent us back to war.

But don't you see? Takes a lot more courage to get married and raise kids and start a business, than it does to go to war. When you go to war, you don't really have any hopes. Except maybe to survive. When you get married, you hope to be happy.

So, see, I just ain’t scared of nothing. All the worst things I ever thought could happen to me already did, so I just don’t worry any more. I let the doctor poke and prod if he wants, but it doesn’t really matter. Me and God, we have an understanding. He knows by now that I’m not going to sit in some church and be prayed over but that I do try to do the best I can. And I know that He will take good care of Mary until I can get there to do it myself. I just want Him to take me before He takes the kids or the grandkids. That’s all I ask.

When you get to be my age, people are all the time asking the secret of your success. Like there’s going to be an answer they can hang onto. As if drinking the right kind of fruit juice or something will give them a long, prosperous life. I’m not so sure that a long life is all it’s cracked up to be. Waking up each morning knowing you got nothing to do but look forward to your meals is a pretty piss-poor way of life. You can try to make it easy on yourself and everyone around you by being pleasant, even to the ones who talk to you like you’re a toddler, but it’s still a lousy payoff, to my way of thinking. But, there it is. You get up, you make a little joke, you get through it. Like you get through any particular terrifying moment of your life. You just get through it.

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