In 70 I was leading a recon unit into the bush to look for Charlie. We had come off a long deployment near Kha Sah. We had with us a British guy who was obsessed with his tea. Had a tea kettle with him as we would burn villages to the ground. We would be burning huts to the ground and he would be sipping his earl grey he had picked up from a French smuggler in Saigon named Pepe La camomile. He was left over from when the French ran the shit. One day after being out in the shit for a couple days Rockland got the great idea to hide our British friends tea kettle. Rockland was a big football player type. He came from a rich family from Ohio. Father had made his fortune in wigs during the wig boom of the late 30s. Got it in his head to prove his manhood he would come over and fight the red menace.Anyway I warned him against it,  I knew my world history, how the British turned to opium dealing with the Chinese to finance their tea addiction. Hell that's why they had conquered most of the globe. That's the only reason they held onto Hong Kong. Anyway when our British friend woke up and couldn't find his tea kettle, he flipped, started screaming at the top of his lungs waving a machete in the air. I said" hey man just use your helmet, like we do for soup"
He turned grabbed an AK we had picked up off a dead Charlie, screamed " Fuck this you savages! Ill take my chances with the VC!" He ran off into the bush screaming and firing the AK. A couple days later we returned to our fire base. When we informed our commanding officer he lost it. It turned out our British friend was prince Phillips younger brothers college roommates nephew once removed, we had to find him. So we invaded Cambodia. We kept on hearing reports that an Englishmen was roaming the countryside with a small army of ex VC burning down everything in site screaming for a tea kettle. The locals gave him the nickname " tea of death". As we got deeper into the jungle we saw waves of refuges coming the other way running from tea of death. After 4 months of this insanity we found him in the burnt out ruins of a Mormon monastery, left over from when Brigham young had sent his people to Cambodia to try to convert the locals. Our British friend was dressed in a loin cloth and sat on alter surrounded by heads on pikes. His army surrounded him.  He said nothing just stared into your soul. Rockland walked quietly over and handed our friend the tea kettle he had stolen. Our British friend whipped out a machete and in one fell swop cut off Rocklands head. Poor bastard didn't see it coming. Our British friend immediately changed back to the mild mannered man we had known. Looked at us and said " jolly ho! How did I get here ? What are you chaps doing here. I didn't say anything just " lets go home Tony Blair, lets go home"