Gladys Savary, Author at The Philippine Diary Project

Gladys Savary

(June 2, 1893 — September 14, 1985), restauranteur. Because of her being married to a French national, she was not interned by the Japanese with Allied civilians in Manila.

December 16, 1941

Here we are, well into the second week of our war. It seems years, but it’s exactly a week ago yesterday since Nick handed me

December 26, 1941

Well, the Powers that Be have gone—sort of sneaked out quietly. The girls from the High Commissioner’s office came over the day before they left

Sunday, December 28, 1941

December 28, 1941

A fine diary this is. I must think I’m a Shirer, only different. I was one of those who thought it couldn’t happen here—that the

December 29, 1941

The open city idea isn’t working. We sat yesterday under three hours and twenty minutes of constant bombing, formations of nine planes being always in

January 1, 1942

A fine New Year’s Day—with a faint tinge of hangover and the Japs, like Sheridan, only twenty miles away—more or less. Mostly less. I understand

January 2, 1942

I went to market this morning and stocked up with all sorts of things. Prices have gone up dreadfully. It is now eight in the

January 3, 1942

] didn’t go to bed. Mr. P-———— , an oil man caught here en route to India, has been staying in the house. He was

January 4, 1942

Jap soldiers came into the kitchen today with an interpreter, wanting to cook their food on our stoves. They are the Bay View Hotel guard

January 5, 1942

Yesterday was hectic. Tremendous activity. Trucks roaring hither and yon, probably en route to the front which has been established (so someone told me over

January 6, 1942

My theory that the greatest evil that ever befell mankind, the most harmful power that exists, is fear turns out to be correct insofar as

January 8, 1942

It seems to be more than just registration. Everyone, practically, has been put in Santo Tomas, a huge university with acres of garden space. Nothing

January 10, 1942

Janson said my standing as French was pretty shaky, as I had worked so hard and for so long on the Free French Committee. So

January 14, 1942

While I have the energy I want to record yesterday’s doings—a most momentous day. We cleared up the cocktail lounge, took out all the broken

January 15, 1942

The typhoid-cholera-dysentery combination, plus the banged-up knee, plus cats on the roof, made last night definitely not a tranquil one. A masterpiece of understatement. Wish

January 18, 1942

The newsboys call the papers just as early. Sounds just the same—SUNDAY TRIBUNE!— but the paper isn’t the same. The morning headlines feature the taking