Mr. Nagy sent me a box of peanut brittle, and I was cheered and amused by his note. In describing Rags, he wrote that she was “spoiled, lovable, companionable, and capricious as a beautiful woman.”
After sharing my candy with my three companions, I saved a few pieces for myself. Perhaps in a few days I could eat it.
It was a night like many other nights when we sat in the plaza and on the grounds in front of the Big House and the Education Building, listening to recorded music. But tonight very few of us were aware of the gay Viennese music being amplified through the P.A. system, for our horrified eyes were riveted on a slightly built Filipino who had been tortured and tied to a post near the gate. Since early afternoon they had beaten him with their belts and rifle butts. When he had fainted, they had turned the hose on him and then started their sport all over again. It was almost dark, but we could still see his slender body, tied loosely to the post and swaying as though keeping time with the gay Strauss waltz. Like immovable statues at Toussaud’s waxworks, we watched, horrified and numb.
Only a few brave and curious ones ventured closer. A Red Cross Filipino doctor tied a wet handkerchief around the victim’s head and gave him a drink. After a while the swaying stopped, and the little men with the big guns carried their victim out of the camp.