My outfit landed on Guam and after about a week without washing and the heat we began to reek a bit. Most of us took the easy way out and just went with the flow. However, one GI more fastidious than the rest found some water and washed his fatigues. He hung them to dry between two stunted trees and when daylight faded we said he ought to take them down but he said no. During the night a slight breeze blew up and the fatigues fluttered in the wind. The guy in the foxhole to my right opened up and thinking he saw someone out there I too opened up. Pretty soon firing came from all over. In the morning when the guy went for his clothes, he found them full of bullet holes.