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My dad did a year in Vietnam in 1966-67, and one of the stories he shared was about one of the guys he was quartered with (elevated tent a few inches above mud and puddles during monsoon season) who was near the end of his tour and snapped due to the incessant tree frog noise. Apparently, the guy ran out of the tent with a broom or rake or something similar and started smashing the ground and yelling to shut them up. Everything went silent and the guy came back into the tent satisfied. Then about a minute later they heard a chirp/croak, then a few more, and then the cacophony was back in full effect.
 
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My dad did a year in Vietnam in 1966-67, and one of the stories he shared was about one of the guys he was quartered with (elevated tent a few inches above mud and puddles during monsoon season) who was near the end of his tour and snapped due to the incessant tree frog noise. Apparently, the guy ran out of the tent with a broom or rake or something similar and started smashing the ground and yelling to shut them up. Everything went silent and the guy came back into the tent satisfied. Then about a minute later they heard a chirp/croak, then a few more, and then the cacophony was back in full effect.
Where I went to high school along the Colorado river in western AZ it was pretty secluded and at night you could hear all of the frogs, toads, crickets and on moonless nights you could see all of the stars. I kind of miss that.
 
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