Bedie came down full of tales and eager to hear more. We patients read in bed with hot bricks. Others were busy toiling, mopping up pail after pailful of water, scooping up dustpansful of water. Hot soup at 10 was most welcome, and big boiled camotes with camote stew and boiled cabbage tasted marvelous at noon. Rain deluged all day, far worse than in the night. It started to let up a little and the sky lightened about three but it still poured. Jerry came down with a pot of hot tea, looking cheerful. He told of stoves lighted in the veg room to make plenty of hot water and to dry clothes of those who had to work outside. He said the guards sounded forlorn and cold and wet all night. He felt sorry for them. June popped in bright: eyed, busy mopping all day after the dispensary window blew in and flooded our space but no damage to bags. We saw the Command out early in raincoat and hood, sword banging against his legs. The roof had blown off the hen coop and the hens didn’t lay. All day the roar, the rain and floods of water. Small differences melt away in the torrents which nature pours upon us.
Rising and dying as though in spirals, gradually the storm was gone.
During the mop-up in our space in Green Barracks, the problems all came to a head. So we are stuck and today’s blowup made it apparent that I will have to stay on in the hospital for I could not stand up in a room that has grown worse. I would like to go back to topside but I can see it is not