Tribune: "P.I. Happy Under Japan" — said Guinto before "more than 5,000" members of the Neighborhood Association. The members were brought to the Assembly Hall and the doors were locked behind them. A friend asked a policeman why. He replied, "I can't help it ... I'm supposed to ... the Jap secret service are watching us too." The crowd ignored Guinto's speech, taking it as an opportunity to exchange information by whispers. A few lucky ones slipped out the window, leaving the rest feeling worse.

. . . .

Warned in advance by Dad about Hans Menzi's condition, I was prepared when I met him at his office. What I saw was a man who looked about 50-years old, tall, bony, with eyes seemingly withdrawn into his skull. He gave me a wild, piercing look as we shook hands, and said, "Gee! Glad to see you Henry." There was a trace of nervousness in his mien, while his voice, though it had the old resonance, quivered just a bit. Still, it was Hans ... with closely cropped hair showing traces of gray, a growing mustache and Van Dyke combining to make his face seem even skinnier and longer.

"Well, how do I look?" he said in a half laugh.

I shook my head. "You look as if you must've had a hard time."

"Yes ... tough," he said. "We thought, in fact they told us, we would be shot. It was an experience, all right. We gave up hope, of course. That was the worst period ... and we suffered. I prayed for death. Gave up my rice for two days — what's the use — expecting to be taken outside and shot at any moment. Why not give it to the next guy who had some hope and could use it? I even figured, you know, well ... I could've passed-out from hunger, couldn't I? That might have been better, wouldn't it?"

As he talked he shook his head constantly, those far looking eyes moving from item to item in the room, as if searching for something.

"Forget it," I said hurriedly, "It's all behind. Gotta take care of yourself ... still a long way ahead and the best of it too...." I found myself prattling on nonsensically.

"Oh sure," said Hans, "it's great to be alive and all that. Don't worry about me ... I'm all right — raring to go! Only..." he patted his stomach and pulled up his pants to show a leg looking like one long bone, "Only I'll need time to build up. I was 92 pounds when my folks were first able to send me some medicine at Bilibid, down from 145. I'm 107 now...."

I noticed a chain and two medals around his neck and remembered that Hans had never paid attention to religion, but I didn't say anything. He talked about 12 Navy men who escaped from Cabanatuan because of intolerable conditions at the time, who were betrayed by Sakdalistas three months later and who are now in Bilibid.

Before, they'd have been shot immediately, whereas now they're only in a tight spot.... They'll be all right in the end.

But I'm out, though there are fellows in there who ARE in a mess like Nakar, Ramirez and others — mostly guerrilleros. What? They're there all right! Thorpe ... he's in Fort Santiago still. It's funny how things have turned out. Take Guido and his gang; they were in the USAFFE Intelligence and then joined the Constabulary under the Japs only to betray the Japs while in their employ! They got out before us. We were acting under orders, but when Bataan and Corregidor fell we disbanded ... yet we stayed together long after then.

I denied everything through eleven interrogations but they knew it all, and when they gave me a confession already signed by the rest, the jig was up. Only it would have saved me a lot [of grief] if I'd simply spoken out ... ah ... phew! What a time we had.

Don't think we've forgotten so soon. We went to the Quiapo Church last night, as we all said we would, to give thanks. Yep, we made promises together, we did — all sorts of promises — like if we got out, we'd ... er ... the Quiapo Church was one of them. Gee, I had plenty of time in there with nothing to do. Got some religious books even. They sort of let me have them, the guards I mean, as if it was a special favor only for me. I read the Bible and the life of Jesus Christ. Me! Yes, see these medals? I'm going to become a Catholic.

We were 45 there at one time last December, including this Santiago Novales who torpedoed a Japanese cruiser with his Q-boat and got the Congressional Medal of Honor. Say, that guy later fought at Bataan, then Corregidor, then even with the guerrillas! Is he tough!

Anyway, it was Christmas, see? So the boys asked the Japs as a special favor to be allowed to hear Mass and go to Holy Communion. The Japs said OK. Gee! The boys were excited and happy. The time came and we waited and waited ... no one wanted to eat, see? They wanted to receive Communion. Finally, a Jap came and led us out to the yard behind. There on a pedestal was a crucifix, with a bougainvillea plant on each side. That was all.

'Go ahead,' said the guard, 'Say your Mass.' That was all there was! Only there was no priest, no altar, no nothing. There were the 45 of us — some of them quite tough. But all of them, golly, all of them without exception — it was a sight — everyone with tears in their eyes that one time! Believe me, Henry, the Japs were so stunned at that, they couldn't help themselves! They were moved beyond description. Yeah, the Japs themselves. We'd taken everything from hunger to ... to ... gee! Some guy some day is going to write a book about it.

He was talking loudly now and the partition went only halfway up and I couldn't see who was on the other side. I cut it short. We dwelt on a couple of amenities, and I took leave. I'd forgotten what those 12 guys had to do or say about Joe and hadn't even wished Hans good luck on his adopting the Faith.