0753: We just had another terrific explosion. The lights flickered — we're expecting electricity to be cut any time now. Another tremendous explosion at 0842 — time out for the news and a trip to the Sotelos.

I found the Sotelo boys and Maurice out on the prowl at 0945. Anticipating the arrival of the Americans, the Japanese threw open their bodegas, and it was free pickings for all though sentries didn't allow any white faces in. They objected if you took unpacked American rifles but some managed to get a few. A couple of hours later, they shut the bodegas and drove people away, perhaps because it was time to blow it up like the others.

The bodegas were full of all kinds of stuff, sacks of coffee beans, textiles, handkerchiefs, Piña cloths, Lifebuoy, Palmolive, Lux, Listerine, Mennen powder by the case, some rice and other stuff. Some took their pickings home while others sold on the spot. I bought some coffee and powder from one of them but I was too late for soap.

Meanwhile, explosion after explosion shook the city; the fires so big the B25s had to come in low under the smoke. We gaped and cooed at the magnificent silvery planes and the Piper Cub that turned to check us out.

I arrived home at 1130 to find the electricity out — a sure sign the Americans were in. Definite proof came from the Levine house: A breathless Echaus boy ran up the stairs cradling something small and precious in his hands. As people converged for a peek, he opened his hands to reveal a single, precious, naked ... Lucky Strike. "The Americans are dropping them in Quiapo," he explained.

A quick shower almost left me stranded full of suds. Lunch was topped off by a celebratory bottle of Moet & Chandon. Dad and I finished it while Ma took only a sip. It won't be long now, we felt.

. . .

1615: Just back from Santa Mesa where I watched the fires with several friends. The whole north side of downtown is aflame. There's no point in seeking the proper adjectives because cameramen in American planes are taking ample pictures. Everyone including the Germans blamed the Japanese for the fires. Resistance in the city was a pointless exercise. At that, they still control the south side while the north burns, so the Americans still haven't crossed the Pasig.

continues...