I've been trying to figure out where these shells have been fired from because they're not from the south side. My guess is that they're either 8-inch shells from the heavy batteries in Bataan or American 105s firing into Intramuros.

2026: A huge earthquake and it seems to be nearer. For the first time today I felt scared — and I don't scare easily. I take my hat off to Hans Menzi, a man who no one would listen to. Even his mother called him a scare-head, but he predicted this to the last letter. Another two earthquakes now.

2039: Another "earthquake" even closer — my left ear hurts ... terrible now ... a flare of light and a huge BANG at the rate of one every 15 to 20 seconds — source unknown. A third fire is burning now ... well, I really can't see where one starts and the other ends. Dad is reminding us that the Japanese promised to leave no stone unturned in Manila; Ma is telling him to stop that kind of talk. A response from batteries in the south now ... maybe a goodnight shot. On our back to the east, all is darkness; on our front to the west, all is brightness.

2051: Two earthquakes in a row and I could hear the shells overhead before they landed. Another one ... sh-sh-sh-sh-sh ... nothing ... a dud then! In the space of one afternoon I've become an expert; able to predict the interval from the shot to the explosion and to tell by the sound whether it hit structure or soft earth.

. . .

"Viens," said Ma, calling me into the porch. "Viens et voir ... c'est beau mais c'est triste." A pretty but sad spectacle: fires on our left, fires on our right and fires in front of us. Onward to destiny ride the 600 shells that the Japanese have pumped into Manila since 1600 ... and for what?

2138: The fire has reached Santa Mesa! Anything can happen now. Signing off to protect (a) diary; (b) money; (c) food; (d) clothes; and to prepare for possible evacuation. It's looking worse than Berkeley in 1924....

2159: We've been in the garden ... watching ... huge explosion just now ... and waiting. The wind is turning the fire. A thundershower approaches from the north ... come rain, come ... is it...? A few drops of rain fell, but the cheers died in our throats — it lasted just three seconds and was immediately followed by two more earthquakes.

2205: I put on my pyjamas again ... found the pants in the porch after some searching. I doubt if the fire ever reached Santa Mesa. Secondary explosions continue — not from artillery, it seems.

2230: I decided that it's safe to go to bed. I forgot to mention about the flashes and sounds of artillery last night coming from the direction of Nasugbu. Early this evening someone told me the Americans reached Parañaque. Other reports put American columns approaching Novaliches and Montalban — where the water supply comes from. Today is the first day I haven't written down any accounts from regular newspapers or radio in my diary — 1,156 days from the beginning of this war.

...ooOoo...