POW Dentistry 101
Living in the Japanese POW camp at Changi, Singapore, there were little or no medical supplies.
So when my dad needed a tooth extracted, the good camp dentist, working with what he had, selected his instrument of choice for extraction: a pair of pliers.
Next, from all the available anasthetics, he chose two big military police, one on each side, to hold him down.
Halfway through the procedure, my dad realized something was wrong. There was no way to communicate that, however, since he was already screaming.
The bad tooth was fused to another one, so a large chunk of his jaw got ripped out.
Fast-forward four years. Back in Blighty, free at last, my dad walks into a dentist's office, sits down, points to all of his teeth, and says: "Get rid of them."
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