Chiuahuah

We had a guy aname of Mike Froutwith in our outfit during our tour of Okinawa. He used to carry around a little Mexican Hairless in a bag strapped to his back. I asked him one time where he got the mutt and he said that a little kid asked him to take care of that little feller for him. Mike had a heart as big as all outdoors and so he's bound and determined to not let that little kid down. I asked him what he called the little feller and he said I think I'll call 'im "oki", you know, short for Okinawa.
Well, acourse out in the jungle all sorts a stuff can happen and try as you will you never can keep somethin' bad from happenin' eventual-like. Sho-nuff Mike caught a piece of shrapnel off a Claymore mine and lost his left leg at the knee. He lost an awful lot of blood and eventually he died. But just before he went I can still hear his final words to me:
"Would you please carry Oki back to the states?" So we did, all the way, and we still carry Oki wherever we go. In every bar and club where we can find a Mike Frought with good-lookin women who can narry carry a tune. And we'll continue to do so until our voices crack and grow horse and we must retire to our homes and drink down our cold beer. Where we will carry on the memory of our friend and comrade "Carry Oki Mike"

Marcus Tee