In the valley near us are fine bananas. papaya, pineapples, calamansits (limes)—and we do not need to buy even native coffee in town for it is near us—but the Japanese won’t let us buy out here. It must come from the market where they can tax, put the squeeze on the stalls as well as on us, catching it both ways. They say we must live on our 21¢ a day per person, not a 39¢ average. This is what the soldier is allowed per day. They won’t listen to argument even though it is our own money from the bank. We are prisoners, we must find out what it is like to suffer and run down. They tell us we are lucky we are not being bombed as is Japan.
Another couple has been caught commingling and the guards are on the prowl. One guard said to Mr. Brown, “You married?” The answer being in the affirmative, the guard said “Okay. You go up visit wife. I no care. Nakamura say no. But I no tell!” The wife in this case was in America, but Japanese or American, we are brothers and sisters under the skin and the guard was entirely sympathetic from his own experience.