A neighbor asked me what I did at night. I looked at him oddly: "Why sleep, of course."

"Yes, yes," he answered impatiently, "but where?" I told him rather gently that in our house we all sleep in our beds, in our rooms, including Ma. I didn't tell him that up to now we've taken no precautions because I suddenly felt foolish. Most houses, you see, are on alert day and night — wet bags handy to stop fires, valises packed and practically on the porch, everyone ready for a quick getaway. And quite a few are sleeping in their shelters, even passing part of the day there. We don't even have one.

The best shelter in Manga Avenue is Ding Manotoc's — a miniature Maginot Fort used also by the La'Os, the Klinglers, Albertos and Boix. The Sotelos' also shelters the Schultzes, Madariagas and others. Ding's shelter could probably take a direct hit, but their year-old baby doesn't seem to like strange places so Mrs. Manotoc sleeps in her room and to hell with the war. I sympathize with the kid because I can't stand being in a shelter for more than three minutes.

As to the danger in Manga Avenue, two Japanese shells landed in the yard of the Bernards — I inspected the craters myself. Gus's house was slightly wounded; bullets have definitely hit the Garriz, Klingler and Manotoc houses, and a scattering of shrapnel has landed here and there. No heavy shells have reached us; most whistle just above us as we live atop a hill.

Manila has been paralyzed since last Sunday — no utilities, services or food, no shops, no restaurants — and what money could you use anyway? There's plenty of food around though — on the slightly overcooked side if you can find it. All business has stopped. People have started to reassemble their bicycles but they can't find anyone to repair tires and parts. A bicycle mechanic who hangs his shingle up today would be swamped with business.

. . . .

It's now 1400 and it's been on the quiet side all day with spurts of machine gun and artillery fire here and there, and that's about all. I checked out the ruins around town. Man alive! Blocks upon blocks upon blocks burned out; telephone poles and wires down; broken glass everywhere; debris all over the streets. People were already cleaning up and salvaging their belongings; the homeless moving, no doubt hungry. Houses were caved in, streets torn up, and big buildings thoroughly gutted. Here and there by some miracle stood a house alone, a whole block unburned or a small district unscathed.

continues...