Saturday Ft. Hughes
We’re still in the Old Barracks. We had a few bad moments during the morning when it was announced that 150 cans of prunes had disappeared during the night. All who owned up were not touched. Those who did not admit it and were later found to have some were smacked around a little — which they deserved. It was rumored that they would punish us by giving us no water for 48 hours. They didn’t carry out their threat. We had one meal. In the afternoon the officers were marched in three groups to the end of the island for a short but greatly appreciated bath in the ocean. A Japanese officer today told us that on the 6th of April our night attack had raised hell with them. We sank 4 of their boats and every time we opened up they hit the deck. So my statement that I didn’t know who was more scared is true — they were as much afraid as we were. About 4 o’clock they suddenly announced that we were leaving for Corregidor. We assembled and made the second trip. When we set foot on Ft. Mills the individual treatment of officers ceased. I trudged through the night up hill and down dale with
my bag and bedding, what a workout. Just as I reached the last sentry before entering the prison camp I lost my first articles to a Japanese. He took my pocket watch and another took the Tonkinese silver cigarette case that I had bought for Dad. We wandered through masses of people looking for a place to lay us down and sleep. Finally
found one on the beach and flopped for uninterrupted slumber.