September 3, 1945, Monday

General Yamashita, the Japanese Commander-in-Chief in the Philippines, surrendered with thousands of his men in Baguio in the presence of Lt. Gen. Wainright. He was immediately confined in New Bilibid in Manila and will be tried as a war criminal. Under him, thousands and thousands of Filipinos, including my own daughter and brother-in-law, were massacred. He should be made, to atone for it. He should commit harakiri.

While on the way to luncheon a discussion ensued as to the retaking of the Philippines by MacArthur. With the exception of Alunan, all those who expressed themselves were of the opinion that the loss of over a billion pesos and the death of probably 200,000 Filipinos might have been avoided if the Philippines had not been retaken; that it was absolutely unnecessary since with America’s control of air and sea, better equipment, and the atomic bomb, Japan could have been brought to her knees by direct attack on Japan. But MacArthur, according to them, was ambitious. He desired to erase the blot on his record caused by his defeat in Bataan and Corregidor, and his escape from Corregidor. He said that he would return. And he wished to make good his word. The trouble was that in his effort to recover the Philippines, millions worth of properties and thousands of Filipino lives were sacrificed. Recto remarked: “MacArthur has destroyed the Philippines.” (“MacArthur ha destruido Filipinas.”)

In the afternoon, the Provincial Treasurer, Arcilla, came with letters for us. He first asked us to sign the receipt for the letters. We were very excited; we thought that it was an order for our release. It was a resolution presented by Rep. Magalona petitioning MacArthur to release us under bail. We appreciated it as we know Magalona had the best of intentions. But we all agreed that it was a foolish resolution. How can MacArthur grant us bail? The petition should have been to immediately turn us over to the Commonwealth, especially since there was already a plan for the disposition of our cases.


April 29, 1945

The Headquarters of General MacArthur announced today the entry of his troops in Baguio, after wiping out the Japanese defenses. It took the liberators four months at the cost of a great number of men and materials to scale the mountain, blow up machine gun nests, seal thousands of caves and exterminate their defenders, and take possession of this city. Like mountain cats, the remaining Japanese continue fighting in the eastern slopes and from the top of Mt. Sto. Tomas which overlook the zigzag. An important nucleus of resistance is the Cagayan Valley. The two Ilocos regions, La Union and part of the Mountain Province, have been liberated by guerilla forces.

Thousands of residents of this summer city had been infiltrating through Japanese defenses until they reached American lines, guided by Igorots who are as loyal as they were experts in avoiding Japanese attention, in climbing rocks and jumping over precipices. Many had died in the bombings of Baguio, others succumbed to the hardship of two months of wanderings in caves and mountains or a week on the road until they reached Tubao where they were picked up by American troops.

Recto, Alunan, Paredes, Sison and De las Alas, the ex-ministers of the short-lived Republic had been captured and detained. Manuel Roxas was liberated. Laurel, Osías and Aquino fled to Japan. We could not tell whether on their own volition or forced by Yamashita. Part of those liberated had been brought to Manila and many of them are quartered in the University of Santo Tomas. They had lost their homes in Baguio and their old houses in Manila had been destroyed.

The Army in Baguio did not commit the same systematic abuses and massacre as what was planned and executed in Manila, Laguna, Rizal, Batangas, Tayabas and in other provinces. Either they did not receive the order or they simply failed to implement it. Of course, it was easier for the victims to evade their henchmen and elude their herodian plans in the thicknesses and ruggedness of the mountains. However, at the last hour, the wriggling tail of the dying dragon killed numerous groups of unsuspecting persons, the incapacitated, the helpless who could not save themselves in time. Hundreds, or perhaps thousands of innocent lives were sacrificed.

A number of Japanese civilians and soldiers have passed over to the American lines. Among them are Mr. Yokoyama, the Japanese consul in Baguio; Mr. Okano, the head of the Religious Section of the Army and a good Catholic who had given not a few favors to the American prisoners and to the members of religious congregations; Mr. Matsuda, a professor of Nippongo, and somebody else whose surrender or capture we are not sure about.


9th March 1945

This morning I saw the girls who work in the army offices and hotels on Kudan hill lined up in front of the Yasukuni gates. Across the street from them a group of officers were delivering a lecture, apparently on fire-fighting because there were three or four paper screens set up along the sidewalk and, as I passed by, a soldier was opening a tin cylinder smelling strongly of gasoline. I was tempted to stop and watch but I received so many inquiring glances that I moved on.

The vernaculars carried a photograph of the wife and daughter of the Japanese commander on Yiojima. They were praying in the snow outside the inner shrine of the Yasukuni and the caption said that they had prayed that some of the snow on the streets of Tokyo might find its way to the arid caves of Japan’s newest volcanic battlefield.

But it will take more than prayers to reassure the people. The outspoken Yomiuri lashed out today with an editorial teetering dangerously oh the rim of discontent. “The situation at Yiojima is growing ever more pressing. It is no longer the time to talk of favorable or divine opportunities. Frankly speaking, we have been driven into a corner in spite of the valiant fighting of the men at the front and all our efforts at home. Where should we look for the reason of all this? Certainly it is not merely accidental. It is no longer permissible to use the material resources of the enemy as an excuse. The production capacity of America was known from the outset and it has not shown any surprising increase of late…. All our information and preparation concerning this point must be supposed to have been completed from the time of the imperial, rescript declaring war…” The paper then goes on; “It is being said that even though the enemy may land on these shores, we can surely win if we encounter him with the fierce determination of each one of us killing one enemy soldier… But can we rely safely on that determination alone? That is what the people are sincerely feeling…. We must reflect on the past and present and thoroughly probe the reasons why things have come to this pass. Without finding and eradicating the reasons, we cannot face the enemy landing and turn the divine opportunity into reality.”

Meantime even official circles are beginning to think that the Yomiuri’s unspoken “reason” is that the people are not united behind the war. Yesterday Premier Koiso invited Admiral Seizo Kobayashi, president of the Imperial Rule Assistance Political Association (the government party), and some 300 others engaged in organizing a new political party, to his official residence. Admiral Kobayashi struck his breast penitently and confessed: “The political association heretofore in existence aimed chiefly at the management of the diet and was lacking in its efforts to connect the people directly to war politics. Now is the time for us to give up the old ways and set up a sure-victory no-defeat structure at once. Herein lies the reason for our proposal for the creation of a great political association…. What is badly needed today is that the whole people should become subjects of the imperial land in a thorough-going sense, irrespective of vocations, and offer their lives for the sake of the state. Our forefathers at every national crisis forgot their small differences and worked for their great objectives, overcoming difficulties in a firm blood league. We are confident that when the people understand our objective, they will gladly join this great political association.”

To a people accustomed to reading between the lines, like the Japanese, the implications are ominous, not only in the admiral’s confiteor but also in the Yomiuri’s quo-vadimus. The impression one gathers from it all is that the Japanese, fantastic as it sounds, are indifferent to the war, divided by petty quarrels, bewildered, by the disaster that is overwhelming them; they have lost touch with the government and lost faith; they are content to stand apart from a tragic adventure which they cannot understand and in which they have no hand, absorbed in the intimate problem of the next meal, the next incomprehensible air-raid, while the vast wave of ruin looms darkly over their bent unseeing heads.

Even the generals are no exception. General Kuroda, the former Japanese commander in the Philippines, had dinner with Vargas last night. Flushed with drink, this bibulous garrulous old man, who spent his term in the Philippines on the golf course and in bars, complained bitterly about being relieved by Yamashita. “I know the Filipinos better than Yamashita.” “Yamashita talks too much.” “We were classmates and he was not so bright.”

When Vargas brought out a bottle of pre-war American whiskey, Kuroda chuckled gratefully and then leaned over. “You know,” he giggled, “we two are in the best place after all. You could have been president but they did not want you. I should have been commander-in-chief but they did not want me. Who’s sorry now, eh? Eh?”

When Kuroda staggered home, he was still clutching the bottle.


February 25, 1945

Corregidor and Bataan of historic memories were taken with relative ease. History did not repeat itself. The small but epic peninsula was cleaned of Japanese by an American division which two weeks earlier had landed in Subic. Troops also landed on Corregidor from the air and from the sea in a simultaneous landing screened by squadron fire. The air drop operation was very difficult as the small island did not have sufficient landing areas. Never had there been such a big casualty in so small an operation. The invaders had to finish off the seven thousand defenders, with only some twenty prisoners taken.

What end did the Japanese High Command want to achieve with their plan of suicidal extermination of the troops, either by their own hands or by the hands of the invaders? If a handful of valiant soldiers would take after Leonidas and his three hundred Spartans, that was understandable. But that hundreds of thousands or that the whole Army would be sacrificed for a national objective, only fanaticism or desperation could explain. What would the military leaders achieve through the extinction of almost the whole masculine population and great part of the feminine population of the country? To kill a number of thousand enemies at the expense of millions of their own soldiers, sacrificed to the Imperial idol! In many occasions, groups of soldiers wanted to surrender, but their officer prevented them at gunpoint. The few who had been captured, yielded to force or against their will or their officers were powerless to intervene.

The civilians who escaped the murderous claws of the Japanese were able to save themselves either fortuitously or through the intervention of some good-hearted Japanese — we have to do justice to some of them who saved others at the risk of their own lives — and always by a providential act of the divine mercy which knows how to counteract the most notorious plans. Both the annihilation of the civilian population and the mass suicide of the Japanese army and people had been premeditatedly planned by order of the Imperial government which wanted to drown national defeat and humiliation in blood. After my disaster, the deluge, but a deluge in which even the saving arc of civilization would perish — that is, if the arc would be capable of saving anything. Such was the plan of these Oriental fanatics. War is hell. Men are transformed into demons converting the earth into an infernal fire.

What faith can we have in science, in civilization, in humanitarianism? Or in other deities of modern paganism which have despised the true God in its search for its messiah among self-manufactured idols? Someone started believing that all is futile, all: men, ideas, culture… even religion. Could it not be pride, concupiscence, effeminacy that had unleashed this deluge of passions, afflictions and punishment over prevaricating humanity? Would that the Lord leave the triumphal arc of salvation soon, and that he would not turn away from men!

In all the battlefronts, the bloody scenes witnessed in Manila were reproduced. The Army of Yamashita was divided into five sectors, each one isolated from the others, thrusting back and forth with impotent strokes like the dying quivers of a severed reptile’s tail. The main body of the Japanese Army was bottled up in the mountains of the north by the American divisions which were operating from the Balete Pass and the P. Villaverde road up to Aringay, passing through the hills between Rosario and Baguio. This body was separated from the rest of the Japanese troops when the American 6th and 25th divisions cut through the north of Nueva Ecija until they reached the opposite coast near Baler. There was no other way left for the invincible Army of Yamashita but a desperate annihilation, shielding themselves behind the mountains and the populace. From cave to cave, they were hunted and exterminated like dangerous animals. Many were dying of hunger, sickness or misery. Others were found emaciated, naked and so weak they could not even lift their arms.


February 21, 1945

Weeks have passed since the start of a thorough attack on the south of the Pasig. The battle was bloody and although there were heaps of Japanese fatalities, there were very few prisoners. American casualties were heavy. The front line ran along behind San Luis Street, behind the Casino Español, City Hall up to Quezon Bridge. American artillery is demolishing the palace of the High Commissioner, the Army and Navy Club, the Bayview Hotel and the government buildings east of the Wallace Field. City Hall and the Post Office building also received their share of shells.

The shelling of Intramuros has begun. The Japanese are using the walls as mortar positions and defense walls. They launched a mortar attack on the tower of the UST main building, and another on the Education building.

American firing during the day is incessant, and by night, formidable. They are pulverizing the buildings between Taft Avenue and Burgos Street, and those of the Luneta. The clouds of smoke rise like a black torrent surging from the horizon and enveloping the sky. We are worried about the fate of the residents of Intramuros, trapped within its walls. We can only foresee unspeakable anguish and torture and a bloody agony in the hands of their tormentors.

The number of persons imprisoned is calculated to be around seven thousand, among whom were some forty missionaries, mostly Spanish, and some Filipino and Spanish Sisters.

The High Command, before dealing the final blow in Intramuros, appealed to the Japanese defenders to surrender in order to save so many innocent lives. Not receiving any response, they proposed the alternative of letting the civilians free with the assurance that all firing will cease for four hours. The time specified elapsed and no one went out.

The remaining Japanese troops are incessantly putting to action their plan of murder, suicide and devastation.

What are the Japanese achieving by these killings — of others and of themselves? By this destruction of the city and its landmarks? Instead of saving their faces, Oriental style, they will pass into eternity stigmatized by their barbarism and vandalism, and eternally hated by the Filipino people and nations whose citizens they have massacred.


12th February 1945

A feeling of depression has overtaken the Japanese. Everyone expected Yamashita to do something big in honor of yesterday’s festival. Kigen-setsu, empire foundation day. But nothing happened.

Instead, shaking from the attacks in the diet which has closed its session, the Koiso cabinet announced a reorganization. A new chief secretary of the cabinet has been appointed with the rank of minister and new ministers have been named for the ministries of welfare and education. In Japan the ministry of welfare is a euphemism for ministry of labor; thus the reorganization may be partly due to dissatisfaction with the way the manpower problem is being handled.

Today the embassy was asked to send a representative to another of an interminable and purposeless series of conferences on Greater East Asia students in Japan. Representatives of the Thai and Burmese embassies were also present as usual. The problem is typical of Japanese bungling in empire-building. Shortly after the start of the war, in the first enthusiasm for Nipponizing the southern regions of conquered Asia, the Japanese government selected groups of young men for study and training in Japan. In the Philippines the sons of the highest officials were picked for the first batch in 1943; they were followed last year by the winners of a competitive examination. All these boys arrived in Japan, dazzled by Japanese victories, eager to learn, already a little Japanized with their hair cropped close, their trained stiff bows, their earnest smattering of Nippongo. But soon they were floundering in disillusionment, confusion, a maddening bewilderment.

Nobody in Japan seemed to know what to do with them. They were bundled off to improvised dormitories, cheated of their special rations by racketeering cooks, bullied by drill sergeants, snooped on, slapped; they were, discouraged, then forbidden, to hear Mass; their letters home were censored; worst of all, nobody seemed to know what or where they should be taught. They were pulled and rushed here and there by bureaucratic jealousies; the army, the education ministry, the ministry for greater East Asiatic affairs, disputed jurisdiction over them. The Society for International Student Friendship and the Philippine Society bickered over them. Appropriations and subsidies, spheres of interest and authority, precedence and precedents, were at stake.

When the embassy arrived, confusion grew worse confounded. The students were Filipinos but, it seemed, the embassy had no jurisdiction over them; they were Japanese government scholars whose expenses were paid by the Japanese government. The embassy could inquire, suggest, petition, but not intervene. Meantime the students, having finished their indispensable preliminary training in Nippongo, were shunted around. In the Philippines they had been solicitously asked what course they wished to pursue and assured that Japan had the best in that line. Now they were told that the Japanese authorities in the Philippines had exceeded their authority; they were not acquainted with actual conditions and facilities in Japan. Most of the schools were closed; all Japanese students were in the factories; the Filipinos could neither go to school by themselves nor work in the factories, prohibited zones for foreigners.

A new plan is how being worked out. The wishes of the students will be respected, the embassy has been assured. They will be allowed to pick their own course and school from a list of those still open throughout Japan. There will be certain qualifications: the government is firm on getting all the foreign students out of Tokyo and it is equally determined to segregate the different nationalities. It is feared that the Chinese will contaminate the Filipinos with “dangerous thoughts” and that the Filipinos will contaminate the Malays.

But it is already too late. The Japanese themselves have done the contaminating. None of the Filipino students in Japan, none of the others from Greater East Asia, will ever again want to learn from Japan. They are cynical, contemptuous, intolerant. They want to go home. Once more the Japanese have thrown away their opportunities, wasted their small hoard of goodwill in Asia, wrecking their future with puerile incompetence.

x x x

Two open trucks were parked along a side-street near the embassy today to display an exhibition of B-29 fragments to the neighborhood. Pieces of the giant tail, twisted scraps of fuselage still shiny and indubitable steel, a pair of fur-lined boots: from even this poor wreckage and flotsam the simple people could gauge the formidable quality of their enemy. They started at these menacing relics silently, reading the labels with their voiceless lips. Finally one old man put out a diffident hand and fingered a shred of parachute — yes, it was real silk, good strong silk. For a moment he could think of nothing to say. Then he laughed. “Well,” he turned to a crony, “we’ll build a bigger plane than that. But I’ll tell you something. We shan’t waste any silk on parachutes. Parachutes! Our soldiers don’t need parachutes. They don’t get shot down.”


10th February 1945

The Japanese were buoyant this morning. All the vernaculars have headlined a delphic boast from Yamashita: “The enemy is in my stomach.” It is, I suppose, the equivalent of the American “It’s in the bag”. The immediate unanimous but private reaction of the Filipinos here was: “He’ll have indigestion.”

The cold wave of the past three days has meant more than a pretty snowfall for the average Japanese. The water is freezing in the faucets and they have no fuel to thaw it out. The distribution of rations has been delayed; possibly the roads are blocked. Yvonne, weeping and wailing, came knocking at the door of our neighbor, asking for his help. Now they had turned off the electric current in her room. She was half-hysterical, the poor woman, but again it is largely her own fault. She just can’t control either her consumption of gas and electricity or her feelings. She only keeps wailing that the little singing-bird she keeps in her lonely room for company will freeze to death.

Yesterday a barter day, the first of a series, was held at the Matsusakaya department store in Ueno. Applicants had registered their names and their goods previously, receiving in exchange tickets to be traded in for the goods of other applicants. Today all the vernaculars had an extensive coverage of this primitive solution for Tokyofs broken-down distribution system. It seems that all goods were disposed of one and a half hours after the doors of the store were thrown open. The most popular items were shoes and clothing. Only some flower-vases and pictures remained unbartered. Bare need has shoved aside the famous Japanese cult of the aesthetic. One of those who showed up was a fat old woman lugging an iron stove. The store officials reminded her that all iron articles were supposed to be given to the government and, after refusing to list the stove for barter, asked her pointedly to donate it to the government for war purposes. The vernaculars say she refused and ran out weeping.


February 4, 1945

The advance troops of the liberators entered Manila last night after thirty-seven long months since the remaining troops of the USAFFE retreated to Bataan. We cannot tell how many districts of Manila are already liberated. News dispatches are a little confused. All we are sure of is that the first place recaptured is the University of Santo Tomas with all its residents, priests and internees. We were told that the rest of the city had been turned into a battlefield, won not amidst psalms and cheers but amidst firings and shellings “…that this city and all its people might be protected…”

The conquest of the Central Plain of Luzon was a successful one. The 210 kilometers between the Gulf of Lingayen and the City of Manila were negotiated in 27 hours instead of 27 days. Except in Bamban and Stotsenberg where the enemy had attacked from the nearby hills, the Yankee war machinery rolled through the wide open fields without opposition.

The enemy had lost the battle of Luzon when it allowed the gigantic invading equipment to land unopposed. In the open fields, the Japanese could not put up a fight. They preferred to retreat in disarray, dispersed like scared rabbits as the mechanized columns of the invaders rolled by. Yamashita’s strategy was to convert the mountain ranges of Caraballo and Zambales into another Bataan, in the manner of MacArthur’s defense three years ago. The Imperial Army was entrenched in the rugged mountains without roads and almost without any footpaths, turning each mountain into a fortress, each hill into a machinegun nest and each cliff into a trench. They dug a complex of tunnels of communications through the mountain where they hid and installed their artillery. They fired from the mouths of the tunnel to avoid being localized by the American Air Force and artillery. The Americans had to destroy these subterranean hideouts one by one. Not only did they blow up these artillery nests. They chased those who manned the guns and flushed the others out of the caves and tunnels who defended themselves like corralled beasts.

Under this mode of defense, it was not necessary to launch big battles nor heavy attacks nor fighting on a grand scale, nor mechanized campaigns. It was a work of mopping up, a fight of a group of hunters against a group of game animals. The air force, the tanks and armoured cars were hardly of any use. Only the rifles, flame throwers and hand grenades were effectively utilized. It was a slow, tedious, lousy and bloody fight.


December 26, 1944

Manila

Japs moving out. Truck after truck loaded with troops evacuating Manila. All Jap cars camouflaged with leaves. Mindoro landings have struck fear in Jap hearts. The end is near.

Puppet government of Laurel transferred to Baguio. They left in a hurry. The presidential convoy was escorted by Jap troops and P.C. soldiers.

Remaining Jap soldiers are desperate and despotic. Sentries are reenforcing their barricades. Passers-by are searched.

All vehicles are being commandeered: Cars, trucks, carromatas, dokars, bicycles and push carts. All Filipinos except puppet collaborators walk. Only Japs ride in cars. People who did not know of the order were stopped in the streets, their cars, bicycles or carromatas taken away from them without pay. A cochero was very angry: “They’ve taken away my only means of livelihood” he said. House-to-house search started in Malate and Ermita districts.

Hardly any food in the market. Stalls empty. Vegetables, meat, and fishes cannot reach Manila because Japs confiscate all food in the way. A soldier came to the house this afternoon asking for our chickens. The Japanese Army is a scavenger force. A man whose bicycle was taken remarked bitterly. “They’ve taken away two of my houses, my furnitures, my rice and now my bike. Pretty soon they’ll take the air I breathe.”

Papa is very nervous. The Japs have sealed the Crosley and Buick. They’re demanding that we produce the tires of the Buick. Pa said that he sold them already. A Jap neighbor took one of our carromatas.

Only leader left in Manila is Benigno Aquino. He will leave for Baguio on Wednesday. He explained the basis of the rumors on the open city proclamation. To a question propounded by dad regarding the open city conjectures. Speaker Benigno Aquino pointed out:

“There has been an open city proposal. It came from us: the officials of the Republic. We wanted to at least make of record that we took measures to ensure the safety of Manilans and Manila. But Yamashita, the Jap commander-in-Chief did not accept our proposal and he explained that the complete demilitarization of Manila would lay it open to a possible paratroop invasion from Mindoro. Under the circumstances, Yamashita pointed out that the next best thing to do was to transfer the seat of the Republic’s government to Baguio and meanehile he will remove his troops and military installations and it will be up to the Americans to notice that the Japanese have already left.”

Dad then asked: “What kind of a force will the Japs leave here?” Aquino replied: “I understand that the Military Police will remain and perhaps enough troops to cope with a surprise attack by paratroops.”

Aquino said that he liked the speech of President Sergio Osmeña from Leyte. “I liked particularly the part where he counseled the guerrillas to act discreetly regarding collaborators because among them are men who are there because they have been forced and because they had nothing but the people’s welfare in mind. Aquino said “What that speech I have enough…..”.

Manila is worried about the recent drastic acts of the Military Police, the Japanese equivalent of the German Gestapo, Recently, it has been rumored that Dr. Antonio Sison, head of the Philippine General Hospital and President of the University of the Philippines was arrested at his home by members of the Military Police. Other prominent doctors that have disappeared are: Dr. Nicanor Jacinto, famous Manila surgeon and head of Doctor’s Hospital; Dr. Miguel Cañizares, tuberculosis expert and head of Quezon Institute and Dr. Jose Jose, head of a provincial hospital.

In the recent “zonification” (technical name for mass arrest) of Teresa, five men were killed by Japs because they were suspected of guerrilla activities.

In the mass arrest at Polo and Obando, more than 500 people were massacred to death. All the male citizens were locked in the church. From the pulpit, a hooded informer was made to point out guerrilleros. Those pointed out were beaten with wooden bats. The Municipal treasurer was hung upside down and killed by trained military hounds. Other suspects were burnt to death. Still others were drowned. A group of ninety were made to dig their own graves then machinegunned or bayoneted according to the sadistic inclinations of the executioners.

In Imus, Cavite, the military governor, Col. Castañeda and the provincial commander, Col. Javallera have escaped to the hills. Japs “zonified” Imus and killed all men who fought in Bataan. Many innocent men were killed. In some cases, wives of suspects were abused. Reign of terror exists at present in Imus.

Meanwhile, as the days pass by, more men die of hunger in the city. Today as I walked downtown, I saw a haggard, skeletal figure, dressed in rags, steadying his weak body at the iron gates of Jap residence while begging for food. Near a restaurant in Avenida Rizal, there was a young woman lying on the dust-covered pavement and death froze her hands in an extended, pleading, gesture. In the slums of Sampaloc, five little girls sat on the sidewalks, thin, gaunt, dirty, begging all passer-by for “rice, please, rice.” I saw an old man with a semi-crazed look in hid eyes searching a garbage can for food. I also saw a Jap truck filled with sacks of rice guarded by soldiers with fixed bayonets.

Only happy note of the day were leaflets dropped by American planes yesterday: “The Commander-in-Chief, the officers and the men of the American forces of Liberation in the Pacific wish their gallant allies, the People of the Philippines, all the blessings of Christmas, and the realizationof their fervent hopes for the New Year.”

Merry Christmas.

[This is the last entry in the diary, which ends here]