I’ll tell the story only once. . .
It was March or April of 1967, I was on an ambush outside of Phu Bai when we got in a firefight deep in the jungle, luckily we had no wounded.
Later that day, I noticed that I had lost my lighter.
In June, I was in Kha Shan when I ran into a guy named Ledbedder, whom I hadn’t seen since boot camp. He said that he remembered me and the first thing he asked was if I had lost a lighter. . .I told him that I did. Next thing you know, he hands me my lighter. “Where the hell did you find it?”, I asked. He said that he was out on patrol when they ran into a North Vietnamese squadron, and after a firefight in the bush, he pulled it out of the pocket of one of the dead Viet Cong.
That's it. . . nothing more to say, you don’t want to know the rest of the STORY.