The year was 1968. We were on recon in a steaming Mekong delta. An overheated private removed his flak jacket, revealing a T-shirt with an iron-on sporting the Mad slogan Up With Mini-Skirts. Well, we all had a good laugh, even though I didnt quite understand it. But our momentary lapse of concentration allowed Charlie to get the drop on us. I spent the next three years in a POW camp, forced to subsist on a thin stew of fish, vegetables, prawns, coconut milk, and four kinds of rice. I came close to madness trying to find it here in the States, but they just cant get the spices right...
Posted on: Thu, 10 Jul 2014 14:19:35 +0000
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