“OKAY OKAY Holy Sh*t Vietnam” By Fred Krebsbach The Write Place 190 pages The platoon to which Fred Krebsbach was assigned had just returned to base — mud-caked and foul-smelling — for a few days of “stand down.” Only hours later, however, they were sent back out as much-needed replacements to an area of heavy fighting. After finding reasonable cover, they set out the requisite claymore mines. Then they heard it — a strange, rushing sound so loud it mimicked the noise of a freight train.
