One Sunday afternoon, an American pick-up drove into camp. I asked the driver, a sergeant, what he wanted. He had heard about all the foreign weapons we had captured and wanted to swap some goodies. I explained that the ‘boss’ was having a quiet beer with his troops. I pointed him in the right direction and he happily marched up the hill. Knowing the ‘boss’ wasn’t there and the clock was ticking, I searched the pick-up. The most interesting things were poncho-liners, four boxes worth. To Australian troops the poncho-liner was a must-have, but was hard to get. I threw the boxes under some bamboo beside the rec hut and covered them with leaves, then left the scene post-haste. The Yank caused one hell of a ruckus! I was keeping a low profile when a trooper from H Troop arrived: his commander, Dave Procopis, wanted to see me. Dave just pointed to the rec hut and said: ‘I want half’. He got them. I still have a poncho-liner. It’s faded, but still does the job!