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| Pg.1 | Pg.2 Villamor Hall | Pg.3 Evacuation |
Supplement Pg.1
January 17, 1942
“Santo Tomas”Ahusband and wife with a boy and girl (about 4 and 5 years old) arrived in Santo Tomas on January 4 with the second group to be interned. Luckily they were more or less prepared because the Japanese gave them only 15 minutes to pack. Mosquito nets and mattresses weren't allowed on the grounds that they were already taking too much stuff, but they had the sense to bring along canned food sufficient for 10 days. “First we went to Rizal Stadium, where we were forced to unpack, register, carry everything 200 yards to a waiting car, pack again and go to the camp.” The first night was a nightmare. Santo Tomas was already badly kept, and the tall grass behind the main buildings made the grounds good for mosquito breeding. The wife was placed in a room 30-by-30 feet with 23 other ladies and children. “We were lucky — most rooms of this size had 30 people.” Fortunately an American lady agreed to let the two children share her mosquito net. The husband found an American friend who let him share a large mosquito net. His friend had a P.A. cot, but he had to sleep on the cement floor on top of one blanket and under another. (The nights were very cold then.) He went to bed at 11:00 PM, dozed on and off until 3:00 AM when he awoke aching all over from the cold. He sat up for a half-hour, tried to sleep again, and finally gave up at 4:00 AM. Even with socks, woolen underwear, pajamas, a bathrobe and a coat over the lot, he was still freezing. He wandered out in the pre-dawn dark and headed for the building where his wife was, spending the rest of the night sitting outside and listening to the wailing from Mrs. Blychdon's three children. That morning all they received was a cup of coffee. Thankfully, they had the canned food. By the second day, the Red Cross arranged to give each kid a glass of canned juice — but that ran out after a few days. Eventually, they managed to give their kids a little breakfast and “afternoon supper.” The menu consisted of coffee and porridge in the morning, and later, soup and one pan-de-sal (local bread roll). It took a few more days before a kitchen was established at the camp. He told me a distressing story about several 70-year old Americans — quiet men living on U.S. pensions — with no friends outside and no one to feed them. These old-timers, together with some sailors (just off bombed boats) who came in with nothing but the clothes on their backs, unaccustomed to begging and seeing needy children there, kept their mouths shut and hardly ate for three days. Eventually they were discovered and the Red Cross stepped in to help them. In one area housing 400 people there are only two sanitary facilities with 6 toilets and two washbasins. Bathing is a community affair — especially in the beginning. The guards walked in on you even if you were nude. One guard walked in on three ladies and naturally, they screamed. He still took his time walking out. He couldn’t tell the difference between the “Ladies” and “Mens” signs — situation now remedied. Even then, they occasionally come in. Eventually a scheme was conceived where an American lady accompanied each guard on their inspection tours — sort of chaperoning each guard — even through the night. The gymnasium — a basketball court of ordinary size — houses 600 men. Maybe a bit less than that, but that’s still a crowd. |
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| Pg.1 Santo Tomas| Pg.2 | Pg.3 Evacuation |
Supplement Pg.2
January 17, 1942
“Villamor Hall”The old man had no idea why he was summoned to Villamor Hall for questioning. He had done nothing wrong. The questioning went something like this: Q: “Ahem...humph...harrumph!” A: (Pause...no answer.) Q: “Who...are...you?” (Shrill - in heavy tones.) A: “I am John Jesse Doe, a Spanish citizen.” Q: “Hoh! Spaneesh, eh?” (Shrill.) A: (No answer.) Q: “Why are...you here?” A: “I've been waiting three days to find out!” Q: (Pause...) “Where...you born?” (Shrill.) A: “Barcelona, Spain.” Q: “Hoh!” (Shrill.) “What school you attend?” A: “San Gabriel Grammar; advanced studies at Ateneo de Barcelona, then University of San Juan.” Q: “Hoh!” (Looks at paper.) “You...sick?” A: “Yes, diabetis.” Q: (Pause.... The Japanese consults a dictionary and studies the word solemnly.) “How long you sick?” A: “Eleven years.” Q: (Pause.... Consults paper again.) “You have business here?” A: “Part - or most of it is mine.” Q: (Interrogator makes no effort to find out where the rest of the capital came from. He appears to be ill at ease.) “So...! Where you buy from?” A: “From almost all nations, including Japan.” (Pause... Citizen looks sharply at interrogator.) Q: “Let me see your...passport.” A: (Gives it to him.) Q: (Hardly glancing at the passport, the interrogator selects a paper, bends over it and scribbles some characters. From the watch-pocket of his pants he extracts a small seal, stamps it on a special pad and presses it on the paper.) And so he was released. The only reason he was sent to Villamor Hall in the first place was that some nazi reported him. They had nothing on him, but he spent three days in Villamor Hall worrying what it was all about. |
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| Pg.1 Santo Tomas| Pg.2 Villamor Hall | Pg.3 |
Supplement Pg.3
January 17, 1942
“Evacuation”After shutting down the Paracale-Gusmau mine in Camarines Norte on the afternoon of December 11, a naturalized-Filipino Italian went underground for a final check, emerging tired, dripping with sweat, dirty and hungry, and returned home only to find it looted. A lifetime of possessions acquired from a dozen countries — including a $1,000 transmitter radio — all gone! That same night, he joined a party of about 100 on their way back to Manila to join his wife and kids, who were already there. After about 50 kilometers his $4,800 LaSalle ran out of gas and had to be abandoned. The party proceeded on foot, carrying children by turns, fording streams ... finally arriving in Manila on the 16th. I saw him yesterday; broke, desperately hungry, wearing the same pants he wore on that fatal day, desperate to find food for his 11-months old child and sick wife, and ready to turn to the Japanese for help. Such is the plight of one man. “The Car”The owner is in Santo Tomas but his Lincoln Zephyr is safe. In fact the car is in the hands of his horse-trainer, who now drives around town looking like a millionaire, occasionally visiting his master in Santo Tomas. The American was wise to give the car to his trainer, knowing that it would otherwise have been confiscated. It was a successful ploy: The car is safe; the trainer is happy, and the owner has the satisfaction of knowing he slipped one over the Japanese. “Personal”The enemy appears to be getting positively personal in his bombing. During the air-raid last Sunday afternoon, a bomb struck the commanding general's headquarters at Fort Santiago, penetrating into the lavatory clean through the center of the bowl. A remaining sentry, examining the wreckage after the all-clear, calmly pulled the chain.† † From the ‘Good Morning Judge’ column, Tribune, December 31, 1941 |