Regain.......and vengeance is mine!

The lad on the rope, dashing young thing, was just about to fall off, deliberately, hang there for a few seconds and then use a technique called “Regain” to get back on top again. I was wearing my fighting order, 32 lbs or 16 Kg but without my rifle. We had been on the assault course, then the ropes. 
Very faintly in the middle distance you may see two horizontal metal poles, from which hung 30’ or 10m ropes. We were required to climb these, with our kit and weapons, 41lbs or 20Kg with just our hands, no feet, touch the top then descend under control. Our hands and shoulders were, by this stage, very powerful.
The day before we had unarmed combat in the gym. I was a “Diamond” a section commander, a new recruit, back trooped to us was put against me. Luigi was 6’ 2” and well built but he had cloth between his ears. He was swinging a baseball bat, I had to take him out. As I moved under the incoming bat he slammed his knee into my jaw. Tooth and blood everywhere. He just grinned and wandered off, a deliberate malevolent act by a cowardly thug. Off I went to the sick-bay and the excellent dentist rebuilt my tooth. 
Say nowt lad, plan ahead. Saturday morning inexorably arrived. We were scheduled for a mud-run. The PTIs ran us across the railway track and into the River Exe estuary, mud, as deep as you want it, as much as you want. Being a cunning nasty malevolent sod myself I placed my seething mind behind the lump known as Luigi. 
We did all sorts of exercises and were soon covered in gunge. The PTI, a tiny powerful man of Caribbean descent started us into the press-up position. Rolling thunder, my time had arrived; I remained standing, the PTI, Bob Leefmans looked at me, was just going to rip my head off when I pointed at my jaw, then the idiot in front of me. He nodded. I took two huge steps, leapt in the air and landed square on Luigi’s shoulders. I kept up my personal exercise while the rest did press-ups, as they got up Luigi received a farewell kick in the head and off we went. He just lay prone face down. 
Years later my brother Cliff, a Met Plod, took a prisoner from London to Thames Valley, where he met Luigi. The oaffish officer across the desk from him said, “Do you have a brother in the Marines, speaks posh?” 
“Yes, why?”
“I bloody hate him!!!!”

Mud run fun on YouTube.