I knew that if I wrote anything about Wild Bill Hickock that the long knives would come out.
Yes, I knew that Bill died with his back to the door. What I was commenting on was the almost unconscious habit that I and some other veterans exhibit of placing our backs to the wall.
My good Marine friend, the Late, Great Roy, would always try to arrive at a restaurant or coffee shop before me, so as to have the most secure seat.
Rest easy, Roy. I've got your seat.