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Sunday, August 29, 1943

Apparently the camp is opposed to the proposed restaurant. Calhoun received quite a jolt, he looked dazed and a little angry at the monitors meeting last Thursday. The consensus was that until the line could serve something better than rice or beans with squash or camote and a cup of what is fondly termed “carabao sweat” there should be no camp restaurant. The subject was dismissed. I don’t know what was in the background, but I have an idea that there may be a large stock of canned goods or something somewhere in the picture. The fact is that if the proposition had been properly presented there would have been little opposition. As it was, there appeared to be something secretive in putting it over. Anyway, it’s out for the time being. No one liked the idea of Hornbostel at Santo Tomas buying sugar thru our canteen (allegedly) and sending candy here to be sold when none of the local boys have been permitted a license to manufacture and sell candy. The peanut butter project is under way and available at ₱1.15 per pint. The repatriates are practically on their way and some of them, old men for instance are pretty happy about it.

The camp kitchen, temporarily by the gym since our arrival, is moving into the barracks quarters tomorrow. This said that workmen will start on improvements within a few days and October. The time is flying by. Monday, Wednesday and Friday I have accounting, German and Spanish 1:30-4:30 Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday my history class 2:30-3:30 German every day 11:00-12:00, Spanish every day 9:00-10:00 p.m., English Literature Thursday 3:30, 4:30 shorthand with O’Mally Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday 1:00-2:30 p.m. and as often in the evening 7:00-8:30 as possible. Analysis of Financial Statements Tuesday and Thursday 7:15-8:15, and Sunday afternoon 3:30-4:30 there will be an insurance discussion. I guess that’s all, but it’s too much for concentration and I’m only exposing myself to all of them because there’s plenty of time and I like variety. I have a monitors meeting once a week and that’s about the story. There are three ball games next week—I play on the average twice a week 5:45-7:00 p.m. Its quite a life—there are newspapers, I can read the Spanish fairly well now but there are very few rumors of the type that flew around Santo Tomás—the boys have been riding Jack Chapman since yesterday morning when someone passed him the next news that Bedloe’s Island been retaken with 4,000 prisoners. He passed it along to a group of fellows and apparently they let him develop the story until one of them let him know where Bedloe’s is. He’s been feeling pretty badly about it.