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The year was 1969. We were on recon in a steaming Lunar Sea. An overheated private removed her flack jacket, revealing a T-shirt with an ironed-on sporting the HECATIA slogan "Up with Mini-skirts!". Well, we all had a good laugh, even though I didn't quite understand it. But our momentary lapse of concentration allowed "Yankie" to get the drop on us... I spent the next three years in a POW camp, forced to subsist on a meager meal of beef, lettuce, tomatoes, bread, cheese, and four kinds of condiments. I came close to madness trying to find it here in Japan, but they just can't get the fries right!
