God help me if I'm ever in this situation. See the link below for context. Then, read on.

https://www.facebook.com/WCBauers/posts/791040841009543

Now, I need a dummy-gun and a training partner. Master Hong, are you game?

For the record, the best defense is not to be there. Then, compliance. Here's my wallet...you can have it. My life is more important than my Visa. Run away if you can.

Fighting isn't cool. I know...there is a certain coolness factor to a Chan or Lee film. Five-on-one: cool X 5. Ten-on-one: that's cinematic magic. It's also a twisted distortion of reality. We root for the good guy while the body count piles high.

Fighting is dangerous and in many cases morally questionable, if not wrong. Trying to take a gun from someone will likely get you hurt, perhaps seriously, perhaps permanently, perhaps fatally.

But, sometimes, the only option is to fight for your life. In those instances, do what you must to keep yourself and the ones you love alive. Hopefully, you've got training to fall back upon.

Don't court the unforgiving minute. The Martial Arts aren't white-magic voodoo. Disarming a gunman isn't cool ( well, okay, it kind of is). But that prospect should also terrify you. It terrifies me. Most people don't have the proper mindset to attempt it, let alone the training to begin with. Including me.

I have a 2nd Degree Black Belt in Taekwondo and I've only just begun learning. I've trained little in gun defense. But I want to do more, much more. The more I learn the more I come to terms with my own frailty; the more I come to terms with how little I know. I've only just begun.

But, I'm open to learning more.

Start there...if you're interested. Stay humble. Stay teachable. Get training. Become a student and pass on what you've learned.

Never use your knowledge for self-gain. Develop might to do right, and walk humbly. Be an ambassador of peace. Confront evil with good, speak life. But, when you must, stand firm.

Peace.

Today, my late grandfather, CPO William Coates, has been on my mind.

Grandpa was a typical man for his generation. He rarely talked about himself. He fought in two great wars - WWII and Korea - and retired a Chief Petty Officer, E-7, in the Navy. The fowled anchor proved prescient. Cancer forced retirement upon him. Otherwise he might have made Senior Chief. The good Lord spared his life from end-stage lymphoma. The docs sent him home to die, every organ ripe with malignancy. The docs called his recovery a medical oddity, an anomaly. My grandmother called it what it was - a miracle. My grandfather said he was saved, twice. 

Grandpa didn't wear his service like chevrons on his sleeve. You almost had to pry the information out of him. Oh, he loved the Navy and the USA, he'd sing the songs like "Gee, Mom I Want to Go Home" and reminisce about the war, but always at a carefully metered distance from its harsh realities. 

He, like those of his generation, bore the hardship of war in quiet isolation. Only in retrospect has the family begun to appreciate the depth of his emotional wounds. 

Today, I gathered my boys in our living room and reminisced about my grandpa, about the true meaning of Memorial Day. About the greatness of our country and why it's unique in the world as a beacon of liberty, as the chief exporter of freedom across the globe, because of men like William Coates. 

My first book was dedicated to grandpa. I, quite literally, owe my entire being to the man. And though my guys will never meet him this side of the veil, they will hear his story. 

Here's to CPO William Coates: father, husband, grandfather, warfighter, Christ-follower, and friend.

Hail to the Chief