British Empire Colonial Journey After Retirement: A U.S. Army Kettle and a Box of Blades

In order to plan my trip to Matsu next week, I dug out the diary of being a soldier ten years ago, as well as the photos I took secretly in Matsu that year.

There are several pages in the diary, which is my own handwritten calendar. At that time, I was very miserable in Matsu, and while counting down the numbers to be discharged from the army (when the number of stars is on the back, a ☆ will be drawn), while planning the travel after the discharge.

At that time, I looked at the Fuzhou and Huangqi Peninsula on the other side every day, and I kept thinking that it would be better to go directly to the three-way connection on the day of discharge and take a "defection tour". As a result, the itinerary changed later. In order to visit his girlfriend in Hong Kong, he also wanted to visit India, so the surrender trip became a "tour of the colonies of the British Empire", and finally went to Hong Kong, Singapore and India.

I remember that the one-way ticket from Taipei to Hong Kong was very expensive, so I decided to buy a domestic flight ticket, first to Kinmen, then to Xiamen through the small three links, and then to Shenzhen by train.

So I took the military water bottle I bought when I was a soldier, a passport, and a Taiwan compatriot certificate, and got on the transportation boat to Xiamen.

Looking back now, the whole trip had a magical tone to the sky before the typhoon.

When changing trains at Huizhou East Station in the early morning, I met a hairdresser in a neat suit and a man from Hunan on the green leather car. He said he was going to Shenzhen to see his girlfriend. I heard that I also went to Hong Kong to find a girlfriend. He said, "Then we are like-minded people, and we have fate and fate." So he gave me a box of haircut blades.

I was just discharged from the army and didn't know what to do to support myself. I wandered with my girlfriend in Hong Kong, and lived in a mansion in the middle of the mountain for a few days. I experienced the life of a banker in Hong Kong.

So even more confused.

When I was transferring in Singapore, the security personnel at the airport found the box of blades given by the Hunanese in my backpack—“This, not allowed.” Tamil English, which is still the least dignified and persuasive to me. Strong English accent.

Later, I was defrauded of a lot of money in India, but I didn’t feel any regret—it was the salary paid by the Ministry of National Defense of the Republic of China.

But because he traveled in India and became poorer, he could only eat and live in the Sikh Golden Temple in Amritsar. One day, the Israeli girl who was sleeping next to me stared at the dark green military water bottle I brought for a long time.

"Where did this kettle come from? How could you have one?"

After I asked, I found out that she had just finished her three-year military service in Israel. Although Taiwan and Israel are far apart, what we use are all military equipment of the US military.

The water bottle, along with the entire backpack, was later stolen in Argentina.

I don’t know if there are still people in the more magical American backyard in South America today, who would be stunned by pointing at the American-standard military water bottle.