July 3, 1942
Am writing a letter to Fort Santiago requesting the release of Pagulayan and Unson. Will give the following reasons: (1) They are good, useful men.
Am writing a letter to Fort Santiago requesting the release of Pagulayan and Unson. Will give the following reasons: (1) They are good, useful men.
No parades, no celebrations—in public. Cozy little parties, drinks, dancing, singing—in private. The Filipinos have learned to celebrate on July 4th. More trouble from Mr.
Mr. Toyama, a very nice, educated Japanese, employee of Mitsui, will teach the family Japanese, twice a week in the evenings. My son Vic refused
Invited to a pancitada by Dr. Gregorio San Agustin at a dinner by the Bureau of Animal Industry to some 20 Japanese veterinarians. Fukada, Naric
Thinking of Pagu. At a dinner at the Hotel with Major Nishimura, I asked about Pagu. The interpreter said in broken Spanish: “Ese para muerto
A house-to-house inspection is being planned to check up if the reported number of family members tallies with actual facts. People who have increased the
Asked Unding Alunan to find out if Arthur Fischer is in the concentration camp for Americans in Camp Tinio. I want to help him. Talked
More war prisoners released, thank God. The prison camps are death holes. Attended a meeting of restaurant owners at the Office of the Mayor. I
Studying “darak” supply for horse-owners. After a survey among carromata owners, it was found out that two gantas of “darak” are being consumed by a
Due to the increasing cost of living, the following salary readjustment has been made: 1. From ₱50 down, increase to ₱50 for permanent employees, one
Made arrangements with Dr. Sison for the sending of sick war prisoners to his hospital. Gave him ₱1,000 as contribution for Philippine General Hospital. He
A Japanese civilian came to my office. He spoke arrogantly, bluffingly, threateningly. He wanted one of my rent houses. I showed him that I
Read a Guerillero’s poem. Somebody left it in my desk. Perhaps there are guerilleros in the office: SOMEDAY Someday, someday, I’ll live again, I’ll sing
Bullets or shrapnel pierced our roof. Entered just opposite daughter Neneng’s chair in the dining room. Vic and I were seated at the table. Neneng,