February 6, 1942

The boys surprised us with an exceptionally good lunch. To plain boiled rice, given us by neighbors on the other side of the abandoned truck where we had been eating for the last few days, they added tomato juice, fried bacon, and several cans of corned beef. It was good enough food for anyone, and we all agreed that ice-cold beer wouldn’t have been out of order.

But it was not for us! No alcoholic drinks of any type were permitted in camp. It was just as well, as the camp had a few alcoholics. These former bottle-per-day men would have a grand opportunity to go on the wagon. Under the circumstances, it wouldn’t be hard to imagine what would happen to a swaggering Jap who strutted past an American who had been drinking.

Again we heard heavy detonations coming from a distance. How desperately we wanted to know what was happening at the front!

My daily routine remained unchanged. After hospital duty, I showered with sixteen other women and then tidied my boudoir by pulling out the boxes, baskets, crates, pots, and pans under my bed prior to mopping.

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