April 21, 1942

Tuesday Ft. Hughes

This was a fairly quiet day. I stayed down at the foot of the hill on the Whittler’s beach for the first dive bombing attack and the first high level attack. That kept me down there until 1130 and made me dive in the foxhole about 3 times. The dive bombers dropped theirs near the ship and the high level boys dusted the west end of Corregidor. The MINDANAO galley is in full commission today and the moochers are swarming around —like flies. Every day I lose more respect for my fellow man — either we have the worst bunch of officers (with a few exceptions) or man is just naturally thoughtless. They have found that the MINDANAO is functioning and apparently we ‘re fair game. We carry water up the hill by the bucketfull for them to flush the head; there are 6 MINDANAO officers most of whom go to the foot of the hill and carry their own water. There are approximately 24 other officers using the head and they have yet to furnish one single bucket of water even though they have men at their disposal. We started our galley. Immediately officers (who had all been assigned to messes before) commenced eating at our mess table with nary a word of permission or thanks. I put up clotheses hooks for my things – I can’t get near them for other people using them. We brought 10 electric fans from the ship, all but one have been appropriated. We have built the only latrine and the whole island uses it – but no one makes any offer at helping to clean it up or keep it sanitary. It is adequate for us but will never do for the great number using it. I’ll make no bones about it; I’m plenty fed up with the setup. Americans (maybe all men) are filthy and lazy. They’re too lazy to keep themselves clean and healthy, Many of them, of course, have the tunnel complex —- they’re afraid to go into the open long enough to accomplish anything yet they sit around and talk, talk, talk. The drivel they put out is nauseating – to me at least. I guess I need a good rest away from men – I’m fed up. In spite of this depressing writing, however, I’m moderately well off. I don’t care for this life but I’m thankful for life itself, i’m not inspired but I can certainly continue plodding along. I figure my real happiness awaits me in Indianapolis. All my love.

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