One of my friend's dad was in a POW camp with Bob Hoover. Mr. Cecil told us a good story before he passed about Bob. Bob liked to get a blade of grass from the prison yard and sneak it in at night. When all the prisoners were supposed to lay down and sleep, he'd put the blade of grass between his thumbs and squeal like a wounded rabbit. Said it ****ed the German guards to no end as their guard dogs would bark incessantly even after beating the crap out of them.
RIP Mr Hoover!