A letter from Joe dated July 15 explained that in the beginning, most of the men were too sick to work, but most are now working. "The morale in camp is high," he wrote, "you just can't keep the boys down. We have a good band that performs twice weekly, two good male choruses that perform once in a while, and we have some funny plays occasionally." He included the lyrics of a popular camp song, sung to a catchy English tune:

I don't want to go to duty,
I don't want to work the farm.
I'd rather lie by the old Bahay,
Having told the medicos a fine old yarn.
They have got me down for beriberi,
They have placed a bandage on my eye,
And my ailments they are treating,
With a course of special eating,
And the duty details always pass me by.

I just received another letter dated August 4, thanking Gabby and me for the medicines. He included the prayer below, explaining that the boys work in the farm everyday except Sunday and rainy days.

Dear Lord Above
I am so forlorn
Please give us a storm
And if it is in your power
Give us a four-day shower
And if that is no strain
Give us a seven-day rain
And we'll give you thanks
When we see the Yanks.
Amen.

Joe's work is chopping wood for the Japanese kitchens. He's responsible for supervising the barracks with two captains and a second Lieutenant — "all fine fellows." In the meantime, he's studying Japanese and brushing up on his French and Spanish.

My Philosophy of life is now the following: 'The tougher your life, the more it is worth living.' I am ready to start again from scratch as if nothing had happened. I can face the future regardless of hardships, disappointments or failures with eagerness and enthusiasm.