I'll tell a little about how Cabanatuan was set up. There were hills and they were suitable places to build barracks. The group that I was in was a Naval group. I was a Marine. The Navy people were in the first that we came to. The Army and National Guard went on to the second one. It would seem that it would make no difference, but it turned out that it did. Some people were fifty years old. Some were experienced in health and sanitation matters, so when it came to building slip trenches, toilets, they said, "Let's put it over on the other side of the ravine." That was a long way from the barracks. They reasoned that an open toilet would be a health hazard. They probably thought we had nothing else to do but walk to the toilet, so they put it quite a distance away. (Later on this proved to be very inconvenient -- about that, I will tell you later). The Army people did not put their trenches so very far away. And, as it turned out, the number of deaths in the Naval contingent and in the Army contingent was very different.

Life at Cabanatuan was not exactly unpleasant. It was not too bad. The one thing that was bad was the food. It was very bad. But otherwise, it was quite nice. The Japanese let us go down to a stream to bathe once in a while. We really had no work to do, except that sometime they would organize a work detail. Actually, that was not too bad because you got something extra to eat. You might get a bun, or an extra rice ball. While the work was not too hard, it was pleasant to receive a reward like a half a cup of rice. Living unprotected in those barracks, open to mosquitoes and no netting, we became susceptible to all the tropical diseases. We were not eating enough food to keep us from getting ill. There was beriberi, elephantiasis and pellagra. Almost everybody had something. We sat around and talked.

I had carried a book along, a book on radio material, which, if you read it from stem to stern, you would be a radio expert. I never did learn it totally, but I learned it quite well. I may not have learned it thoroughly, but I read it a number of times. Besides the tea, I think it was a good thing to carry along. When we first arrived there, Stinky Davis was a terrible liar. He would tell me lies just to make himself look good. Later on I found out that they were lies, after he was dead. Stinky and I were friends, and I don't know if he said it or me, and said that a camp this large there has got to be a container around somewhere. We began looking all over. This place had been cleaned over. In fact, Lansing is a junkyard in comparison. We scoured and got down in the bed of a stream and, lo and behold, there was about one inch of a paint can sticking out. We dug it out and scraped it out, and scoured and scraped and finally we had a bucket, in tact, no holes, and clean. That bucket was one of the most important assets I had. I call it mine because it became mine -- I inherited it. Davis and I owned it together at first, and then Davis got sick and went across the road. Going across the road – to the critical ward – was pretty much a one way trip. If you got sick enough to be carried across the street, you were probably not going to come back. That is what happened to Davis .

But to get back to the paint bucket. I could brew my tea in it. I didn't make a fire because I didn't need to. They were always cooking rice, and all I had to do was put the bucket close to the fire, and I could brew tea. To get by the fire, you might have to give the cook some tea, but I could always have some tea. Some had coffee, and they would ask me to use my bucket. So I would let them use my bucket if I could have a cup of coffee. They were always agreeable. It was very valuable to me. Not many in that whole group had a container. During this stay in Cabanatuan, I again became very ill.

I was not ill enough to be carried; I walked. One particular illness was scabs all over my body. I don't remember that they interfered with anything, except maybe sitting down. They were weeping, and it got to the point that I thought that I had to do something. I took some coarse cloth, probably burlap, my gallon bucket, and perhaps soap, and went to a water spigot and scrubbed all my sores so that all the scabs came off. I was as raw as a piece of hamburger. I just closed my eyes, gritted my teeth, and I scrubbed. That was the wisest thing I could have done, because the scabs never returned. The sores healed and I had no more trouble with scabs anymore.

After a few months, there was a reshuffle and all the Marines and Navy were put in one group (about 2100), and the Army (4500) was put in the other two groups. Now the chow began to improve. Once or twice a week they gave us a caribou or two and each man would get a tea cup or --- of caribou soup. Our officers and galley force took more than their share of the chow, if there was something extra, like meat, so that there wasn’t much left for the common herd. Lt. Colonel Freeney is in charge of our group and he is a no-good son of a bitch. If he were any good at all he would stop the racketeering in the galley. The Japanese allow Major Jensen (Army) to make purchases for the camp. The only stuff we are allowed to get is the stuff they can’t use. There are no sick officers at all. They seem to think that is their “divine right” as officers to take what they needed to remain healthy; what we get is incidental.

A very common illness was diarrhea. I don't know the reason for it, but many people had it. It was common to get up many times during the night to go to the benjo. I have already mentioned how far this was. It was a good distance, about a half a block. It was down through the ravine and up the hill. I had the problem as many did. It resulted in little sleep because, if you had diarrhea, you spent half the night walking back and forth. One night, during the rainy season, but quite cold, I had to get up many times. I had made myself some "go-aheads". These were little things to keep your feet off the ground. They were little stilts, platforms and thongs made from rope or cloth. I put on my go-aheads, got up, and walked the long walk to the benjo. All that rain had caused the slip trench, which was quite deep, to collapse. When I stepped inside the door, my foot went down into the slip trench and my foot got dirty. I reached out to get my balance, and my hand reached the side of the shelter which was made from split bamboo, and some bamboo ran up into my fingernails. At the same time, I dirtied my britches and my go-aheads broke. I re-tried my go-ahead -- and emotionally, that was one of the lowest points while I was a prisoner.

I cried. I went back and woke up Davis, and he and I went to the spigot, filled up our bucket and sloshed me and I washed my go ahead and my clothes. We were standing in the rain and we were soaked, but we got it done. We returned to the shelter, and we went back to bed.

The fellows make beverages out of almost anything. Tea is brewed out of several kinds of tree leaves; guava leaves makes the best of any. Coffee is made by scorching dry rice until black and boiling in water. It isn’t good, I suppose, but to us who haven’t tasted real coffee for a year, it isn’t so bad. Some fellows who drive trucks for the Japanese manage to make some purchases outside, but they profiteer so badly that the prices they ask are terrific. Milk, beans, etc., are about $2.50, and almost all hands are broke. Salt and sugar is sold for one peso per cup.

I'll tell a little more about how the camp was set up. It was surrounded with barbed wire. It was a fence with three or four strands of barbed wire. The first one was a foot off the ground. If you wanted to escape, it would be no problem at all. There were pill-box guardhouses watching all the time, but you had twenty minutes each time where you could slip under the fence. But we reasoned that we did not trust the Filipinos anymore that we trusted the Japanese. If we escaped and went to the Filipinos, while most were loyal to the Americans, maybe one in a hundred was not. If you went into a village and one ratted on you, it only took that one. We realized that escaping would not work. I never even contemplated it. Most others did not either.

On the third day after our arrival, 4 men were caught walking down the road headed back to Cabantuan! For a day or so they were tied up in very uncomfortable positions so that some of them passed out from the pain. The next day they were led out behind our barracks, lined up in front of shallow trenches and they were blindfolded. Five Japanese soldiers lined up opposite them. A Japanese officer passed cigarettes among them and lighted them up. Then the orders were given and the soldiers made ready, aimed and shot them down. One of the soldiers administered the Coup de Grace with a rifle. The Japanese officers (about 10 of them) saluted and bowed to the deceased and stood for a moment with bowed head. It was all over. Strangely, the Americans accepted it very stoically. The general opinion seemed to be that they knew what they were risking so they had it coming. That put an end to all thought and talk about escape.

I know of one attempted escape, but it was almost not even like an attempt to escape -- more like an attempt at suicide. It was done by two American Indians from Mexico who were in the Army. I don't know if they slipped under the fence or walked out the front gate and started walking on the road. There was only one country road. Our provision truck was headed for Cabanatuan with a Japanese soldier and an American driver on it. Maybe there was two or three guys helping to load it. It came along and saw two guys walking. They told these two guys to get on and they took them to Cabanatuan and back to camp with them and then the Japanese soldier told his commander what had happened. The commander told them to tie these two up, and this is what happened.

The two "escapees" were tied up in an uncomfortable position with their arms tied up underneath their knees. They were set out in an open area where the sun would beat on them, and they were given no water. They were tortured this way for a couple of days. Then we were all told to come out, and these two men were told to dig a hole, a grave, for themselves. Then they were told to stand at the edge of the grave, and about six Japanese soldiers lined up, were given the proper commands, and they shot the American Indians. They fell into the hole they had just dug. One was not killed very good, and he started to crawl back out again. The officer walked over, pulled out his funny little Japanese pistol, and shot him in the head. Some Americans were ordered to cover up the hole. Well, believe me, that was a pretty sobering message. Nobody else thought about breaking the rules of the camp. This is what we thought would happen if we did. I think that we were not quite content to stay, but also not foolish enough to try to escape.

These days were filled with rumors, wild rumors. Some fellows came in and said definitely that they themselves had seen headlines in a Manila paper that Berlin had fallen. That was in June and July of 1942. And there was a hundred more just as erroneous. Japanese naval defeats, victories, any kind at all. Beri-beri was breaking out in numerous cases, swollen ankles. The death rate was climbing; men were dying from dysentery and malaria. We all at one time or another had touches of dysentery and malaria, but mostly we were bothered by “rice moisture” which was causing everyone to get up from 3 to 15 times per nite. At first it was thought to be caused by sleeping on bamboo slats, but the doctors told us it was another manifestation of malnutrition. The Japanese guards were not bad to us. We went on working parties and spent more time resting than working, which was a good idea at that, considering the diet we were getting.

At one point, before Davis went over the road, there was a rumor that the Americans were coming and all things that we wished would happen. Someone would say it and tell somebody else and it would gain the stature of fact and it would go through the camp in a matter of a couple of hours. Everyone would believe it for a while and then we would realize that it was a rumor like all the other rumors.

They have a sick camp across the road where they send the “very sick.” To go over there usually is a one-way trip. I have a friend (J.J. Duggan) who went over, but he came back. He said they gloom themselves into the grave, each telling the other how much worse he looked today. When he came in, they growled for a while because it made things crowded, but they consoled themselves with “one of us will kick off in a day or so, then there will be room enough again.”

We have local talent shows about twice a week. They really have brought the shows up to quite high standards, due mostly to MC who was a professional showman on the outside. We have one dog in camp, “Soochow”, brought by the 4th Marines from Shanghai. Old Soochow has been with the Marines so long he has learned our bugle calls. When the Japs sound reveille, it sounds nothing like ours and Soochow howls and moans as if in pain.

Once a rumor came out that they were going to send a number of Americans to Japan. Davis and I talked it over, whether it would be a good idea to stay here or go over to Japan, because there were also rumors about sending prisoners to Mindanao and to other places in the Philippines. It was our opinion that the best place would be Japan. It would be better to go to Japan, we figured, because food would be a problem. We felt that the Japanese would treat the homeland better than they would the people out in the Philippines, that the last place to run out of food would be Japan. So we made it known to the American officers that if there was a chance to be sent to Japan, that we wanted to go. Now, it seems unlikely that a prisoner could volunteer for something like that and get it, but it was apparently true, because after a number of weeks, they said that five hundred Americans were needed to go to Japan.

We were taken to Manila, to the railroad, and put on board a ship, the Nagata Maru.

JAPAN

November 6th, 1942.
Left Cabanatuan for Manila, boarded Japanese troop transport NAGATA MARU on the 7th. Five or six hundred men to each hold. Japanese troops on next deck up. Pest ship, no ventilation, room for only part of men to stretch out, some find sitting room, some S.R.O. (8 men die en route). Trip takes 21 days. Six or seven day lay-over in Formosa. One submarine scare. Arrive at Moji, Japan. We entrain at Shimonoseki for Osaka. Arrive at P.O.W. camp Tanagawa. Very cold here now for us. We are in poor physical condition. Men dying at an alarming rate (malnutrition). We are made to work on construction of a navy yard. The work is mostly loading rock cars. Davis catches diarrhea and is sent to Osaka Hospital.

She was a rotten little ship, built in England about fifty years before this. Her gross tonnage was about six thousand. I think there were about fifteen hundred people on it, not five hundred. Maybe they got some from other camps. In our one camp, there were five hundred Americans (in one hole). In the deck above this, which was also below decks, a larger area, there were twenty-two hundred Japanese. They had hammocks. We were at the bottom of the ship, the prowl, or the keel, and five hundred were there -- so filled that in the cargo hold there was no room to lay down full length. If you did, you laid on top of someone else. It was a claustrophobic experience.

On the first day, we were ordered to go down below, so I went down there to see what was happening. I knew about the sick-bay upstairs, on deck. There was a doctor up there with some patients and I knew that the doctor had some authority. When I went down there, I saw they had buckets down there for benjos. The prisoners were sick and standing in a pool of feces. I looked at that, and I said that I couldn't stand that, that I had claustrophobia. If you were capable, you could go upstairs and go benjo over the side of the ship. They had built some hanging benjos, just hanging over the side of the ship and you could use them and go right into the bay, or into the ocean. So I told them I had to use the benjo and went up on the deck and went to the doctor, Captain Nel, an Army captain. He was from Detroit. I told him that if he would certify that I was sick and had to be kept on deck, I would get food for him. He was a wise guy, and he knew that he would not get too much food anyway, so I made the deal. He certified that I was sick, and he showed me where to lay.

My spot was underneath a winch -- no cover and no protection from the weather, but at least it was a spot on the deck. My fare for staying on deck was to get food for the doctor. When the Japanese were eating, I would stand around with a mess kit and when they were finished, but not finishing it all, I would hand out my mess kit to them and say "meshi, meshi". Some would give me some, and others would just look at me and throw it over the side. I kept at it and collected enough for the doctor and enough for me. It was food that the Japanese had partially eaten, but it didn't bother us. Well, Doctor Nel did not know, but it didn't bother me. I was able to stay rather healthy for the most part on the trip from Manila to Japan. It was not too unpleasant on deck at first. The trip took us twenty-seven days. We didn't lose all that many people. A total of six or eight died during that trip . There was one guy laying near me. He kept kicking me in the head. I told him to cut it out. I said, "You S.O.B., I'll fix you!" While he was asleep, I untied his shoelaces and tied his feet together with the shoelaces. He didn't kick me anymore. But he wouldn't have, anyway, because he was dead. He was kicking me as he lay dying. But I didn't know it. In the morning, they wrapped him in a blanket and threw him overboard. He was one that did not make it.

When the trip started, it was not too bad. But we had started from a warmer climate, and the further north we sailed, I realized I had on very inadequate clothing. I had on Filipino scout dungarees. I was way bigger than a scout, so my clothes were short. Between the jacket and the pants there was about six or eight inches of my bare skin. That was okay while in the tropics, but as we worked our way toward Japan, we were running into colder and colder weather. Not freezing, but snow, anyway. It eventually got so cold that I couldn't stand it under that winch anymore. There was snow blowing all around and I thought I might have to go down in the hole.

So I did. I went down into this hole which had been festering for weeks. Everybody had staked out their claim for space, where they would live, and where they would put their belongings. They had developed a routine, and here I come, after three weeks, coming down to live. I ran into a lot of resistance. I did find a place way up by the prowl of the ship that was stuffed with ditty bags. These are officer's packs -- little bags and bundles of clothing. There was a place about ten feet long and about eight inches high, I think. It was all full of these disposables – disposables as far as I was concerned. I went in there, pulled them out, and threw them away. Wherever they landed, they landed; I didn't care. I was ready to fight for my life. Later, I did get into a fight about it, but no one fought me at that time. I crawled into that spot that had been stuffed with ditty bags and I stayed there from that time until we got to Japan.

The trip took a long time. Part of the time we were zigzagging because there were torpedo runs and submarine alarms . We were in a convoy. There were destroyers accompanying us. Part of the time it was that we pulled in Okinawa and we layed over there for several days. I don’t know for what purpose, perhaps to pick up additional escorts or to wait for others in the convoy.

TANAGAWA

Kobe was our destination. We arrived at Kobe about November or December 1942 . Upon our arrival, we were disembarked from the ship. We congregated in a square, an open area that was paved. We were told that that is where we would stay. We got off at night and stayed overnight there. In the morning, we were organized into groups and marched off to other destinations. My destination was an inter-urban railroad station, and we got on an electric train. We went to a place called Tonagawa. Tonagawa was in a pretty nice area, a beautiful section, actually. It was near the coast and fairly warm; I know there were tangerine trees there, at least. But it did not feel warm to us because we were not dressed warmly enough and we were underfed.

-- For Record --
On or about December 19, 1942 about 150 Red Cross parcels were received at this camp. We were required to fill our cards to acknowledge the receipt of these packages unopened and in good condition. The boxes were opened by the Japanese and some of the food was taken out. Following is Christmas Day dinner menu, a small amount of Red Cross food was issued on various occasions, taste at a time.

Breakfast -- Vegetable soup and rice
Dinner -- Soup (potato, cabbage, onion, turnip, corned beef) and rice;
two tablespoons salmon (heaped);
two tablespoons sardines (level)
two tablespoons raisins (level)
6 ½ dried prunes
Choice, 1 only: chocolate - 1" x 3/4" x 1/4"
cheese (american) - 1" x 1" x 1/8"
Supper – rice soup (potato, onion, diakon, soybean,
soy bread salt)
3 hardtack biscuits
1 slice luncheon meat - 2" diameter x 1" thick
1 slice butter - 2" diameter x ½" thick, hot tea
January 13, 1943 received issue Prince Albert tobacco - 1 can to 6 men!!

This was a new camp built for us. I don't think it was previously occupied. It had a high fence around it and was built out of pinewood, and there were no real bunks, just planks of pine raised up off the floor. The bunks were on each side of the room with an aisle down the middle about six or eight feet wide. The bunk ran the whole length of the room about eighteen inches off the floor and was covered with tatami. This is a rice straw pad and looked quite nice. We went in and our job was to work in a shipyard project. We were going to build submarine pens. When we got out to the job, it was quite unpleasant. They were dynamiting rocks and had railroad trains (narrow gauge), and we would push these cars to where the rocks were loose and throw the rocks into the car. When they were full, we would push the cars to the engine, and the engine would place them out into the bay. Each time they would lay more track and push them further and further. They were making long piers out of this rock.

It was tough living there. The only thing you got to eat was what they gave you. That had been true up to this point, but it had not seemed to make any difference before. But now we were working on only two-hundred and forty grams of rice a day -- about a cup of rice a day. That kind of labor on that supply of food was very difficult. There were some Koreans working the same job. One of them caught a snake. He took the snake and slit it with a knife right behind the head and peeled the skin off of it all the way down. While the snake was still wriggling, he put it in his mouth, shoved it down his throat, and swallowed it. "Ha ebia!" he said, patting his belly. "Strong stomach!" I certainly had to agree!

Nothing that happened out there was too pleasant, that I recall. One of the things I do remember was standing by the railroad by a Japanese who gave us lots of trouble. He was very hard on us. He was standing almost on the track while the train was coming, and several of us started to warn him, but it came along and hit him. The driving rod, the rod that goes up and down, and the drive wheels caught him and he was picked up and slammed down a number of times, and I think it killed him. We were not unhappy, because he was a mean man.

He was replaced by one equally as mean. Working out there was not at all pleasant, at least for me. I had an emotional problem out there because I was forced to work when I was not able to work. I had an emotional breakdown and would start to cry. They took me away from the work and told me not to work for the day. I was put into the barracks and was told that I was too sick to work. I was put into the sick bay.

February 6th, 1943 -- I catch diarrhea and
turn in hospital.

Then I went down in weight. I don't know what weight I went in at, but I went down very, very far. I had diarrhea, pellagra, elephantitis, beriberi, the sniffles and I don't know what else. I had just about everything you could imagine and not die. I certainly had enough to die with. This experience I would like to relate to you.

I think I did almost die. I decided, "What's the use?" I had been laying for three months and I thought I would never get well. I was getting skinnier and weaker, and had not even been on my knees in maybe weeks, or even months. So I decided that I would give up. I had a ten thousand-dollar life insurance policy. The "old man" (meaning my father) would have more money than he had ever had in his whole life. That was one night. Those were my thoughts on that one night.

The next morning I was so close to death that it seemed to me that when people talked to me their voices came down a long corridor, like echoes in a corridor. It seemed like I could see them from all directions. It seemed like I could see what they were thinking.

They served breakfast, but I didn't eat. A Navy corpsman named Adolph Meyers noticed I hadn't eaten and got down next to me and said, "What's the matter with you, Rodenburg?" He told me I had lost my guts and said that they didn't need people like me because I had lost my guts. He did exactly what he wanted to do. He made me angry. I thought, "You S.O.B., I'll show you."

It was coming on Spring, and I started by trying to get up on my knees, I would do that until I would faint. When I came to, I got back up on my knees. And I kept doing that. Once I was able to get up on my knees without fainting, I would try to get on my haunches, and then I would get dizzy and fall over. I kept doing that until eventually I could stand up. My head would get dizzy and I would fall down, sometimes hitting the tatami pads, and sometimes I would just hit the floor. Then, once I could stand, I started taking steps -- one, two, five, fifty, one hundred. I counted them. Then I went and walked around the building. At this time, the men were boiling their clothes because their clothes were alive with lice. That was one of the things that was sapping our energy. I went and had my clothes boiled, and when I was able to, I walked over to a scale, and weighed myself.

At that point, after working my way out of bed, I weighed eighty-nine pounds. I was a bag of bones. I was able to take the skin from the calves of my legs and pull it almost completely around the front of my leg. This was between November, when I went in there, and March, and we had lost about a third of the prisoners that were there.

March 20th, 1943 -- Still in hospital, recovering but cannot regain strength. Chow very meager. No meat, fish soup about once a month on an average. Weight: 123, up 15 pounds. A hundred men or so with swollen limbs from beriberi and edema. My feet are swollen and sore so that walking is very difficult.

There were originally four hundred prisoners. One third simply died. I was in a little cell, and I laid with seven Army officers and one Marine corporal. All the Army officers died. Adolph Myers talked me into not doing that. This was not the only time Myers saved my life. He did it one more time.

March 27th, 1943 -- Nothing improved here in camp. They (nips) promised us a chance to write an 80 word letter to home, but they won’t let us say hardly anything except that we are in Super-health whether we are or not. This morning we had a canteen cup-ful of veri-thin carrot-onion-cabbage soup. The noon meal was 3 buns the size of a nickel hamberger, half a cup of veri-thin vegetable soup, a canteen cup of tea. Tonite we will have a cup not more than 2/3 full of steamed rice and half a cup of vegetable or bean soup – sample day, never varies more than one day a month when we might get a fish soup.

There are plenty of rumors as always when there is no source of news. All the rumors are good, however, and they say that the nips are really expecting bomb raids in this vicinity, and that the nips are talking to themselves about the number of planes the States are building. Japanese order yesterday forbids whistling, or putting hands in pockets, under threat of severe punishment.

30th March, 1943 -- Made a sporting wager today with Patterson (Corps, USMC) - - If we are still prisoners this date in ‘44, he gives me his entire noon ration; if we leave for home any time before then, I forfeit my 1st noon ration aboard our delivery ship.

31st March, 1943 -- We were allowed to write a letter home today. Not allowed to say much of anything. Here is one I sent:

“Dearest Mother, I am in good health. Have been working regularly out in open. Send package of concentrates, bullion cubes and Vitamin tablets. We are plentifully supplied with toilet articles and clothing. We have received from Red Cross of food and tobacco. Tell everyone to write, include snapshots of family homestead and car. Don’t worry about me, everything okay. Hope to see you soon. May God bless you and keep you. My love to all. Harry.”

April 2nd, 1943 -- Read Jap newspaper today. From between the lines we deduct that things not so good for Axis. Men nearly all very optimistic. Most “all over date” speculation running from 3 to 6 months. Chow here getting worse (if possible). We had whale blubber cooked in rice once. We find it rather okay -- anything would be.

Sunday, April 14th, 1943 -- Very gloomy here today, raining with high winds. We hit a new low in chow today. Canteen cupful lugow and some tea for breakfast. For dinner, a tea cupful of steamed rice and ½ canteen cup of “shadow soup.” What will supper be? Cigarettes nearly impossible to get. The men are smoking scorched 2nd-hand tea leaves and even straight paper-cigarettes. Haven’t received any from the Nips in 2 weeks.

Saturday, 10th (April, 1943) -- Wonder of Wonders. A truckload of Red Cross foods and some clothing came in camp today on an army supply truck. Some of the stuff (89 boxes) was individual food boxes, but most of it is bulk. It is from South African branch of the Red Cross. There is a phonograph and records included. That stuff has made it 15,000 miles or so to this camp. If it would only make it the last 150 yards. There is much speculation as to how much of the stuff will actually get to the prisoners. The nips seem to be clamping down on us more and more. Less and less chow. More regulations. More face-slappings. We think they’re having trouble on their warfronts.

Friday, 16 April (1943) -- We were issued British Red Cross food parcels today. There was one box for every 4 men. The boxes were varied slightly in content but each was about equal to the next. My box contained approximately: oleomargarine- 8 oz; lunchmeat - 16 oz.; cheese - 4 oz; chocolate - 4 oz.; 13 service biscuits; bacon - 8 oz.; sweetened condensed milk - 10 oz.; syrup – 4 oz.; tea ½ oz.; one bar face soap -- of each item there was just a taste, but oh how delicious it did taste. To think that someday we will have all of that kind of food we care for is about enough to make on renew one’s resolve to live to see the end of our confinement. The meats were prepared so good that

I really believe the British could teach us a few things about eating. I have an increased respect for them since last nite. It’s all gone now and we will wait and hope for the next one, how long?

-- Transferred from Hospital Barracks to convalescent Barracks on April 13, to work Barracks on April 24. Weight now -- 118 lbs.

(Smudged pencil text)

Monday, May 5th (1943) ------------ On the “rockpile”--------, each day it is all I can do to -------------- home to my ----------. Nips had every one haul out all their gear for inspections couple days ago, took all our -------- woolen clothing, blankets, etc. Also all books, pictures, notes of any kind had to be turned in for censorship. They promised to return all the books except “contraband” notebooks. Chow is definitely on the increase here now, not in quantity, but in quality. We’ve had fish two or three times in the past few weeks, gravy made with and without corned beef, and we’ve had “Mybella Lugao” several times. On the Emperor’s birthday, (May 1st) and on several other “yasumi” days we’ve had stewed dried pears and prunes. Fair helpings, too, almost two teacupfuls at one serving, of the pears at least, seven prunes for me so far. Of course these little extras we owe to the RC, but even the issue chow has improved.

While we were in Tonagawa, Red Cross packages started to arrive. I don't know how many were sent, but I do know that we were supposed to share a package between twenty people. This meant that out of the package, you would get a piece of cheese about as large as two dice. We just got a little dab of this and a little dab of that. But even that was better than what we were used to. I surely think it helped. I think that more of the Red Cross food was being eaten by the Japanese than was being given to the prisoners.

This country is poor -- a Korean out on the job refused to lite up a match for my cigarette; explained his match ration was being cut to seven per day, and this of matches as thin as toothpicks.

May 10th (1943) -- Heard bad news today. A sailor came back from Osaka Hospital and brought the news that Davis had died. I’ve been trying to find out the date, but it must have been in the last month and a half or so. I was expecting him back here almost daily. Yesterday we had a small bowl of corned beef hash -- wonderful! The chow is much better lately. We’ve had some fish. I’m off the job again. Swollen feet, diarrhea, and general weakness. I can’t stand up to the work. Rumors are that Navy and Marines are to be transferred to another camp. We got our letters to home back for our signatures; they are severely cut, and typed up on a post card. Hope I’m home by the time the answer gets back.

Another thing that I remember, a notable event, actually, was when they roused us and marched us into their parade area. It was cold and maybe we did some exercises. But they passed around a beautiful delicious apple. I have never tasted anything as good as that apple. I think that was the only fruit, certainly the only apple, that we had had up to that point. Later on I will tell you how I got fruit and other things that they didn't give us.

We stayed there until early March. Due to the Japanese desire to have everything well organized, they decided to get all Marines and Navy people together and all the Army people together. We had been all mixed up here. They sent all the Army people from Osaka to Tanagawa and the Navy people from Tanagawa to Osaka.

OSAKA

May 20 (1943) -- Well, here we are in Osaka. We (Navy and marines) moved last Sunday. So far we don’t know which place is worst (or best). We left about 8 o’clock and arrived here about 11, a trip of about 40 miles. We traveled on an Electric Interurban train. In Osaka we made connections (in the largest most modern railway station I’ve ever seen) with the subway. We rode the sub a mile or so, walked a short distance and arrived at the prison.

This was a very lucky thing for me, because at Tanagawa we were building shipyards and at Osaka they were unloading rice cars and many other things. They had blubber and even sugar, and this you could get some on your fingers, and even eat it. Umeda was the barracks, but Osaka was the name of the city.

Here the men look much more like prisoners than at Tanagawa. Chow here is worse, but cumshaw at work is better. All the men here work stevedoring in the railroad yards. Quarters here are very cramped; all the campground we have is an alley about 10' by 100'. The building is an old 3 deck warehouse.

We were near the center of the city, within a few blocks of the railroad station. We worked at the station. There were a great variety of things that we had to handle. We shoveled newsprint -- everything that you could mention that comes out of Chicago, we handled. It was kind of an unfriendly place. The guards never became kind of cozy with you. There were various freight-yards that we were assigned to. This is an out of the way place. You got there by electric train, but you handled the same things except not so much coal. The people were much more friendly. They told us that if we worked hard, we could steal hard. The way they said it was “Shayoti tocsan robbo tocsan uroshi” which means, “If you work hard, we will allow you to steal hard and it will be okay.” On the other hand, they said in Japanese, “Shagoto shiashi, shagoto nie robbo ni agondo,” which is to say if you don't work hard you can't steal and it would be very dangerous.

June 20 (1943) -- Everything rather uneventful here now. I’ve been working at various railroad yards around Osaka. One can deduce very much from the stuff we handle about how hard up the nips are. We manage to “strafe” some chow to help “round out” the very chesai chow we are issued. From the coolies we work for we learn that the war is going well for us. We get persistent information that Italy has given up the fight and Germany is having trouble. We are getting older papers now than ever before. We figure it can’t be long now. We are being fed by the company now but they’ve already told us the Army is going to take over the issuing of chow and clothing. Sure hope they do because other camps are getting bread and beans and fish, according to what they say when we meet them at work. They sure do look much healthier. They are under the Army. The limeys are being treated best of all; they are at the main camp rite across the street from Osaka Army Headquarters.

July 18 (1943), Sunday -- Things are singularly changed. Rumors are to the effect that Germany is near ready to throw in the sponge. And the PM Tojo has told Japan that they must quit if Germany does. My health is improving, but not gaining much weight. I’ve been working at a railroad station called Ajigawa now for a couple months or so. Ajigawa is west of the main section of Osaka by about eight miles, right in the center of the oil tanks and refineries. The nips must be expecting air raids soon, for they are digging fox-holes at all railroad stations and even most small homes and shops have dug holes. Some of them are inside the shops where there is no room in the street. The rumors about us moving and the Army taking control of us hasn’t as yet matured, however some of the CO’s are leaving in a day or two. Chow is still damn skoshi; the only place you get a full gut is out on the job.

Sunday August 1st (1943) -- Well, today is the day that the military is supposed to take over, but so far there is no indication. The bunsho is alive with rumors. Last night, 24 officers from Tanagawa came in camp and at 10 pm they and about 30 officers from here left for Zensuge. There are some left in Tanagawa and some left here, but they are leaving “very soon” according to the Jap. col. in charge of POWs in Osaka. Also they are saying that this work camp will move before August is out. We all are anxious to move. Also there were 20 officers joined our officers at the train. They were from another camp. There is some concentration of POWs going on. I’m turned in again -- rice sours my stomach every night, causes severe skitters, woe is me. May be eating steak and eggs before long. We learned for sure about Premier Musso’s resignation from the Tanagawa draft. The nips were very insistent there be no info passed, but a small amount was, anyhow. Some work groups were secured, making us all the more sure of a complete change.

Sunday August 15 (1943) --- Rumors have been running rife for the past several weeks, rumors that we are leaving, rumors of an armistice conference. Dope has come from many work groups that there would be “sensoo mo skoshi shamite”, as the coolies say. The weather is damn hot, rain about once a week.

Saturday August 29 -- 60.6 kilos today.

Sunday August 12th -- 59 kilos today. The camp is full of rumors these days and all good. Some newspapers come into camp so we know about Italy’s imminent fall and about Germany’s rapid retreat. A week or so ago I had a bad fall, about 8 feet flat on my face on the rocks, and then into the canal. We were rolling rice ropes into a barge.

Last Friday we had quite an earthquake. It was enough to set this big building quaking like an aspen. It’s quite a sensation to see rows of buildings along city streets staggering like ranks of drunken soldiers. Most of us were scared a little, but our main concern was our supper soup being spilled all over.

Couple weeks ago we had an air alert which lasted two days. Later found out that U.S. planes attacked near Nagoya, 192 of them once. Rice ration cut again, severe slice. All hands growling, coolies slowing down on the work, kind of a slow-down strike. They don’t like noodles instead of rice at all.

Bet - bowl gohan still here January 20, 1944 - Humphreys.

Bet - 1 bowl gohan still here in Umeda November 15th - Redenbaugh.

Sunday, 26. September (1943) -- Weather definitely turning cold. Rumors getting better all along. Rumors of a koti (swap) by the end of the year. Definite dope now about Italy’s fall. The Shimbuns say Germany’s good for about 30 more days. They are falling back 10 KLMs per day. The pressed beans are off the docks now; makes a lot of difference, hungry. Food is definitely getting scarce here now. No more half-rotten potatoes or onions in empty cars. Coolies strafing hell out of chow shipments. Almost all group conversations are about “meshi”. Left leg hot and swollen from scurvy. Had a scuffle with the “good” Doc last Friday; he refuses to treat me now.

December 11 --- turned in hospital November 6th with pneumonia; released on December 2nd to rolling pills weak and down in weight. About two weeks before Thanksgiving we each received can corned beef and one and a half lbs. sugar. Thanksgiving Day a Red Cross box -- seven men to a box. I got can tomatoes and 2 oz. cheese. Skoshi! Rumors of personal packages came true! 5th December about 120 personal packages we received. Rumors of more and also mail. December 10, wrote letter home. Nips changing attitude more each day. No rumors just now, but recently rumor said Germany fell, France revolted. Since cold weather, though almost all rumors ceased.

We received a 15 kilo rice cut about a month ago and they made it up with sweet spuds. Don’t know what will happen when they are gone. We are getting just cabbage and daikon soup now, no more beans, small fish.

The gentleman in charge was Hashimoto. He was about fifty years old, and dignified. He had two wives. One was about fifty and the other was about thirty-five years old. We worked hard and sometimes there would be disagreements. They would crack down because of the stealing and we would crack down by going slow, or by going to the toilet all the time. We could unload a car of rice in about fifteen minutes if we wanted to. If we didn’t, and we were on a budgy-budgy, we could make it last a couple of hours. We were hurting them and they were hurting us. We generally came to a labor contract. They would allow us to steal rice and we were almost never detected. We would carry a little bamboo tube around with us and stick it in a rice bag and tap out a pound or two pounds of rice, and go to many bags and have enough rice for the thirty-five man detail for the whole day. We made no mess and did not even open any of the bags. Hashimoto did not like us to steal too many other things, like beer, but we did that anyway.

We stole other things, too, like household goods, and if there was a doctor, we would be looking for alcohol, drinkable alcohol. That was a big thing for us; there were no women. If you could get something to drink, that was great. We all carried a little tool with us. If we were unloading a truck, or if you saw a truck, we would lift the hood and break the gas line -- just like a Chevrolet. You bend the gas line a few times, back and forth and break it. Then you sharpen the end of it by rubbing it on cement. Then when unloading saki, you could take that bit of gas line and tap it into the seam of the top of the saki barrel and blow in there and take about twenty swallows. You would be floating, but not too bad to where you could not work. You would feel it. By the end of the day, you would be perfectly sober on your return to the barracks.

Hashimoto added a little to the business about us stealing if we worked hard. He said, “Haishi no kaisha, robbo nie agondo;” and that meant cars that belong to the army: don't steal at all, it's dangerous. We knew the cars that belonged to the army because they had a special type of waybill attached to the side of them. They had a double wavy red line. We would leave them alone.

Myself and a fellow named Krebs, from Pittsburgh, we were known as "bero honcho". If there was alcohol available, we would sniff it out and find out about it. We would usually get some for everybody. Hashimoto came over to us one day, and pointed over to a crane and said, Ariato-kaisha, hai tai no kaisha des: "that is an army car." He said that there was sugar in it. He wanted us to get some. He wanted us to get it and take it to his office and he would divide it up and come over it pick it up. I put Krebs in there and Hashimoto gave us the key to the door. I looked around and no one was there, so I opened the box and slid the door open a little bit and jumped in there and locked up the car and went away. After a while, I knocked on the door twice and if Krebs knocked twice that meant that he was done. I knocked, and he was not done. I came back and knocked twice and he knocked twice. He jumps out and he has his scivvy shirt tied around the arms and neck. He carried it over to Hashimoto's office, across the street from the freight-yard. Hashimoto went to work on it and divided it up and Krebs went over there several hours later and he showed me about a three lb. bag of sugar, eight inches long.

Krebs said he could play that game, too. He said for us to go back into that car. We did, even though we returned the keys. We had a little iron bar that you could stick in the locks. He went into the car and got another scivvy shirt full of sugar. He was very careful, and even sewed the bags back up. By the time he got out with the second bag of sugar, word was out. A lot of guys were there and they all wanted sugar and it turned out that they were not that careful. They took a razor blade and slit the bags and just scooped the sugar into their bags. They really made a mess of it.

Christmas Dinner, 1943
Breakfast: Bowl of rice, small bowl pechai soup, Tea
Dinner: Bowl shrimp rice, bowl bean soup, 35 hardtack biscuits fried in oleo, sugar added sweet peppermint drink pickled daikon
Supper: Bowl greasy rice, cabbage soup, tea

Company presents: 40 cigarettes, 1 bottle NG tomato sauce, 12 tangerines, bowl salt

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