Local rumor—the guards get no more Tribune and civilians can make only special permit trips to town after today. Also the guardhouse radio has been ripped out and taken to town forever. The news must be good, the rumors true.

Sylvia’s garden seat, the rustic arbor and all other seats were torn up for firewood on the Command’s order. It is a wonder they don’t come down and take the rickety garden benches at the hospital too. They have never wanted us to have chairs or places to sit down. Of course they do not have any in Japan, but this keeps them superior, to have us us standing. We must work. not sit. People who have worked all their lives and never have had time to sit probably always feel this way when they get in the saddle. The Japanese always sit on the floor.

We spend hours talking of food as it seems to assuage hunger. Gingerbread with whipped cream or hard sauce, apple sauce, whole Wheat bread with gobs of butter—endless lines of dishes parade in our talks, each talker going the other one better. Then we laugh about it. Clara copies British cookbook recipes all day and reads them out to us.

 

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