Diary of Tomas Confesor

23rd day, Jan. 19, 1945

We wake up this morning in high spirits. We have a very nice breakfast—as a despedida. All of Col. Andrew’s officers eat the morning meal with us.

We set for the beach after breakfast and boarded the sailboat “Mispa.” On board each of us anxiously awaits the humming of a friendly plane, the “Cat,” supposedly to pick us up.

Here comes a faint sound of an engine. Every one is at attention to catch the progressive approach of the buzzing engine. It fades away. We are all disappointed. A few minutes later, another humming of propellers catches our ears. We turn our faces south eagerly fixing eyes towards the southern skies. Out of a sudden a “Cat” shows up through the clouds. Excitement seizes us, believing it was going to land. But it continues its course northward and disappears in the distance. Later two fighter planes come up to the scene—combing the skies around us continuously. We have been waiting already for an hour and a half and when the Cat failed to return, we went ashore.

Here comes the “Cat.” But it does not alight. Our hope for the day to be picked up fails of fulfillment. We are coming back to the beach tomorrow.

We all got badly beaten up by the heat out on the sea. We return to Col. Andrew’s quarters tired. Yet we have eaten a good lunch.

We are not depressed at all, for we know tomorrow the chances will be good of being picked up.