Why don’t we fire on the long streams of trucks and men going up the roads behind Mariveles? Why? Why? Why?—Bataan has fallen-boats coming around from tip of Cochina firing at them—God they must be soldiers trying to escape from Bataan to the Rock—No identification of them—We can’t take any chances—boat landing at Mona—three soldiers and a Pino escaped from Bataan—answer to Why? Why? Why? U.S. PWs in with the japs so can’t—terrific artillery from Bataan—constant air raids—plenty of action—Geary blows up—pieces as big as flat cars in the air-barrels of 12” mortars on the golf course. Thank God only 12 men killed—actually prayed due to very close bombs—only three planes—watched them—pits-ammo-water down back-ground quivering-dust fumes—McKinney and I caught in barrage and bombing going to James after watching 155s firing—two rounds a gunout—literally smothered by the counterfire coming in—tough game but so far so good—took a few seconds rest in a hole where excavating a dud bomb taking place—what a place to do so–.50 ammo hit—salvage and test fire .50s, 30s, BARS, rifles, pistols, everything for beach defense. O.K. except pits don’t allow enough depression—remedied—Photo Joe—sausage balloon—heavy artillery barrage on Rock on April 29th—26,000 rounds—took shelter in OP—over everything blown up—how no one got hurt, thank God, 24 240 mm and dozens of smaller shell holes within 25 feet of pits—Jacks starts to run. “Take another step and I will shoot you, you s.o.b.” (Would I really have shot him, I don’t know, but believe I would have if he hadn’t stopped.) Shrapnel in pants—cigarettes stolen—pin holes—Jacks—he refuses to fight—naval boats—wheeler firing—boats leave—relocated in B battery’s old HFD station—has been hit several times already—set up that night—fired next day—heavy bombing and artillery fire-barrage runs up to about 50 ft. of us, then skipped—started at shore and advanced up toward us—hole in side made by previous hit on shack lets debris drift to floor everytime a shell hits near or Wheeler fires—hope it doesn’t come in on us—Wheeler has had to vacate one ammo room—Japs have fired a live, a dud; a live, a dud; till they finally bored through the concrete—Yaeger wakes me—heard mg. Fire—heard japs are landing—says Wheeler on beach defense—CP says heard nothing—called again and said we know it is so, CP. “Stay where you are—have heard nothing—planes before dawn—(“No”-Cp.) “Yes”-we. CP—“Wait until daylight.” Into action—plenty of it-6000 rounds fired—have to help belting ammo—barrels hot—ordered to break guns and equipment—gun bolts—axe to barrel—dynamite—be at Hearn by 11 a.m—expected beach infantry fighting-
Surrender—I don’t believe it, God—le me know it is not true, what is wrong? I never felt I would be killed and I never thought I would be a prisoner of war—God, please say that flag is staying up—the answer—a white flag on top side—the world must be at an end. No, the hell was yet to come. Where were the ships, men, planes, everything we had been told were on the way? My faith in America has gone slightly down hill, but she will still win. Bible, money, pictures, bank deposit receipt, all things of value given to Pinos—hope they can find a use for them—march to Smith—no arms—japs still bombing and shelling—no return fire to them—Gosh, what a night—Minnis, Aprai and I looking over the place for Shultz, Van and others—rise early down to bottomside, first jap face to face, guiding us down—Heavens did such a pint-sized, apeish, sloven-looking soldier beat us—yes—