Hanshi McGrath Presents

Shihan Donald Bohan

October's

Devil Dog

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Donald Bohan, Ku-Dan

May 23, 1936 – February 9, 1998

Don Bohan was the second loss from our dojo, again with the terror of cancer, as we watched that giant of a man waste away in front of our eyes. He began his training with Master Nagle in the same year that I did, 1958. He was an outgoing person with a very military air about him. I learned that he had served in Korea , as he would later serve two tours in Vietnam . He spoke little about either war, or his part in them. He served from 1952 to 1973 and retired as a Gunnery Sergeant, the grade of a leader of men, in the Corps.

He was born in Greenwich Village , in New York City . He joined the Marine Corps in 1952, at the age of 17. I personally know that he played organized Roller Hockey in the 50’s. During a conversation with him, after we had become buddies, our discussion got to injuries. When I mentioned that I had broken my nose, the first time, in a NYC Park League hockey game, when I was hit in the face with a stick. I mentioned that the name of the team from Manhattan was the Outlets. “Bo” grinned and I asked why. He asked me to describe how it happened. I told him that an offensive player ( I played defense) got passed my defensive partner and was past me before I realized he hadn’t been picked up on the other side. I raced after him, caught up and leaned over his back, holding my stick over his shoulder so that he couldn’t shoot the puck. He heaved at his stick to get it out from under mine. In doing so, his stick broke loose, came over his shoulder and flattened my nose out. I skated over to the bench, got gauze stuffed up my nose and went back in. “Bo” laughed and said that it was him who broke my nose. I busted his chops for the rest of his life over that. I would tell people that he was a lousy friend, since he broke my nose, without even introducing himself to me. I reminded him that my team won, but he felt that he would rather have broken my nose than win the game.

My friend “BO” was an heroic figure, by birth and not because he wanted to be but because it was his inner self. When he was your friend, he could put up with anything from you, except lying. If you lied to him, you were no longer friends. Lying or trying to fool people was never my game, so we were buddies. The night that he was with me, when he and I and two or three other students of Nagle fought and beat 14 to 16 guys in the Jazz land Bar, in Jacksonville, he raced out the back door afterwards, with me to ensure that I got to my car OK and got out of the area, because I was an Officer and was out of limits. When he returned from his second tour of duty in Nam , he came to my home in Long Island to chill out before going home. He spent a pleasant two weeks with my wife Gene and me and the four kids, who loved “Uncle Bo.” They tormented him to swim with them, play table tennis and woke him up at 6:00AM every morning, usually with my youngest, Erin , hitting him in the head with her doll. The first morning at our home, I had my wife Gene cook SOS, an old Marine Corps stand-by for breakfast. I thought he would throw it through the window, but instead he had two helpings. He came to my dojo in Long Island , as I had promised my students. He promised to fight all of them, there were about 17 there that night. In the first match, he caught his foot in a pleat in the mat, which he was not used to being on and turned his ankle completely over. I offered to take him to the hospital, but he said he had promised to fight all of them and wouldn’t disappoint them. He fought all 17 students. The following morning he picked up his son Sean, a youngster, and we all drove up to Rye Playland. “Bo” was in uniform and people kept giving him tickets to the rides and he and his son used them all until we left for home. By then, his ankle looked like a balloon and we had it X-Rayed. He had fractured a bone in his ankle. He said, no cast, and they simply wrapped it. When I lost my left knee in 1962 and was Discharged from the Corps, I got a letter from the Commandant, stating that the Corps owed me a favor and I called it in. “Bo” got his orders at our home, telling him his new duty station was the First Marine Division, in Camp Pendleton, California. I smelled shipment from there back to Nam and felt that was stretching my buddies luck. I sent a letter asking for my favor and Lo and Behold, he received new orders reporting to Quantico , Virginia . Within a few months, I was visiting him in Quantico , for his first Tournament state side. It was a great success, since “Bo,” ever the Marine ran the event like a battle plan. I remembered, with him at a party that night, over a beer, the tournament he threw at the Field House at Camp Lejeune , North Carolina , a few years before. Between students and Sensei's he must have had four hundred competitors, plus demos. It went off like clock work, although the black belts worked like sled dogs. During the one hour break between the eliminations and the Championship matches that night. We let the students go out to the beach behind the Field House. Now we had some 150 black belts wandering around the deck. The Gunny came to the rescue. He told everyone to pair off and fight and then bow out and choose a new partner, taking a lesson from Sensei Nagle on our deck. We each got to fight about seven or eight matches, with people from other styles. That was great fun. In one of my matches I fought a black belt from Uechi-ryu and as soon as we bowed, he threw a kick into my stomach. Incensed, I went after him, caught the sleeve of his gi and pulling it back and forth vigorously, to keep him off balance, I repeatedly kicked him in the back and stomach, until suddenly, the sleeve tore off his gi. We bowed out and I began to laugh. “Bo,” standing nearby said, not to laugh since that was my spare gi that he took out of my bag and loaned to this guy for the day. We all left, the Field House with frankfurters and cokes to step out to the beach and get some air. The mustard on the dogs was red hot. On the way down the steps, there was a Marine, with a few friends standing on the steps and one of them addressed me, saying, “how come your still in your little jimmies at this hour. I grumbled something obscene and he started toward me. At that point, “Bo” came out of the door surmised what was happening, and as he passed this guy, he grabbed the end of his mustard laden wiener by the end with his fingers, whipped it out of the bun and struck the other Marine across the eyes with his hot dog, splashing mustard in his eyes. The guy screamed and fell down the steps. As we walked passed him, “Bo” said, “You should be careful with what you eat.” Another incident with one of my gi's happened while he was staying at my home. I had an appointment come up. It coincided with a commitment for the Corps, for a demo at Hunter College . “Bo” said he would cover it with my guys. I have pictures of him wearing a brand new gi, I loaned him for the demo and fighting one of my black belts, John Dumbrowski. Later, He had Dumbrowski hold a loaded starters gun in the small of his back. He told Dumbrowski that as soon as you see me move to take the gun away, pull the trigger. Then he turned his head, to ask John if he was ready. John fired, blowing a big hole in my gi and setting it on fire. “Bo” rolled in the grass to put the fire out. Then he got up and nearly murdered Dumbrowski. When he took the gi off, later, he surveyed it and wanting it to look as good as possible, he put it in a wash machine with some type of detergent. When he returned this new gi, it had a hole with a burned area around the hole and the detergent had set little blue dots all over the entire gi. I yelled at “Bo” and his rejoinder was, “You haven’t even asked if I was injured.” We both broke up laughing. There was no staying angry with “Bo.”

When he was ill, we knew it was bad, but at a Nick Adler tournament, I saw him sitting way back in some empty seats. I sat next to him and took a good look at him. He looked ill and turned to me and said, “I’m tired, this thing is wearing me out.” All I could think to say was, “We are all getting old.” Little did I know that a few years later, I would be in a coma, fighting for my life. My good buddy was dead within weeks. Sensei and I were devastated, another good friend had left us. We would not forget and I would remember how much fun we had fighting each other and just hanging out.

Among the honors that he reaped, during his decades of service to Isshinryu were:

1958 - 1975 Sensei Bohan studied under Tatsuo Shimabuku, Grand Master of Isshin-Ryu Karate, until the death of Master Shimabuku in 1975.

1958   Sho-Dan (First Degree Black Belt) 

1960   Ni-Dan (Second Degree Black Belt) 

1961   San-Dan (Third Degree Black Belt) 

1963   Yo-Dan (Fourth Degree Black Belt)

1965   Go-Dan (Fifth Degree Black Belt)

1969   Roku-Dan (Sixth Degree Black Belt)

1975   Nana-Dan (Seventh Degree Black Belt)

USMC – 1960 - 1973 Camp Lejeune, NC, Vietnam, Japan, U.S. Naval Base, Cuba, Camp Pendleton, Calf., Cherry Point, NC, Quantico, VA, and Okinawa.  Sensei Bohan taught Isshin-Ryu karate with the main objective of preparing Marines for combat.  They were taught hand-to-hand techniques, knife fighting, bayonet fighting, bo (stick) fighting, Kumite (free fighting with hands and feet), and close quarter night fighting tactics, with the sole purpose of disabling the enemy.

1960 - 1965  Helped to establish the Isshando Karate Association in New Jersey City, New Jersey.  The main objective was to establish and open other Isshin-Ryu Karate-Do schools.

1960 –- Gave more then 250 Karate demonstrations of Isshin-Ryu Karate for various organizations.

1960 –- Chief referee for over 300 Karate Tournaments.

1963 & 1964  Grand Champion of the Marine Karate Championship (Kumite).

1964    Grand Champion of the NC State Karate Championship (Kata, Weapons,

 and Kumite).

1965    Grand Champion in Kata, Weapons, and Kumite at the All Service

Championships.

1964 & 1965  Gave Karate demonstrations at the World Fair, New  York City , NY .

1970 –- Member of the American-Okinawa Karate Association (AOKA).

1984    Promoted to Hachi-Dan (Eighth Degree Black Belt) by the AOKA.

1990    Was placed on the Board of Directors of the AOKA.

1992    Promoted to Ku-Dan  (Ninth Degree Black Belt) by the AOKA.

1992    Was award with the “AOKA Spirit of Isshin-Ryu” award.

*NOTE: Two weeks before his death Wayne Wayland had a long conversation with Sensei Bohan at his bedside and when asked which promotion, award, or trophy meant the most to him, he answered, “Without a doubt the Sprit of Isshin-Ryu award;  It’s the sprit of the thing.”

He was and still is among the “best of the best,” in karate and the manner, in which he lived his life. He is seldom out of my mind. If I think of Isshinryu, my thoughts wander to “my brother Bo.” May God rest his soul, in the presence of the Lord.

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