The day following the bout, General Phao gave a dinner in my honor at which the French Ambassador and many government notables were present. At this affair His Majesty awarded me the Fourth Class of the Most Exalted Order of the White Elephant, the highest honor that may be conferred on a foreigner. The white elephant is a sacred animal in the land of Buddha, and Buddhism is Thailand’s national religion. It is sacrilegious to kill a white elephant—the symbol of purity. In addition, I received a silver and gold combination humidor and pipe rack, built around the head of a tiger that had been shot by General Phao, and a stuffed tropical bird whose gay plumage and song I had admired in the palace garden the previous day. He also presented me with a necklace and bracelets of beautiful Siamese silver for my daughter, Joan. * * * * * I shall always recall the wonderful greeting I received on this second visit to Bangkok. As our Pan-American plane approached the field, we could see hundreds of children waving American and Thai banners, and as the plane landed, a roar went up. It was as much a surprise to me as it was to the others to hear Captain Max Webber announce: “Will all passengers kindly remain seated while a guest of the Thai government gets off the plane first.” That guest, I soon learned, was me. As I stepped out of the plane, General Pichai and General Mora, headed a large delegation of government officials who had come to escort me. Applause and shouts of “Our Uncle Nat is here,” made me feel very much at home. I was swamped with garlands, each made up of fragrant flowers with red, white, and blue ribbon holding them together. So heavy was the load across my neck that I requested to be permitted to hold some. There was a military escort of motorcycles and jeeps, followed by fifty cars and buses, each flying the American and Thailand flags, and banners blazing the words “Welcome Our Uncle Nat Back to Thailand.” It was an amazing tribute to boxing since I was representing the sport. At dinner that evening General Pichai asked if I would like to see Siamese boxing. What a question! What baseball is to the Americans, cricket and soccer to the British, and Sumo to the Japanese, hand-and-feet fighting is to the Thai folk. It brings out the throngs and has its idols of whom Songkitrat is one. Whether they win, lose, or draw, these heroes are decorated with wreaths, receive beautiful gifts of silver, and are showered with attention wherever they go. It’s a sport in which the rules and regulations that govern international boxing are tossed aside. The code which governs it prohibits gouging, hair-pulling, and striking an opponent when he is down—otherwise everything goes. The contestants use their feet, knees, and elbows as offensive and defensive weapons, and once the action gets under way, fur flies. The bouts are usually thrillers, with not a moment of inactivity.