Attended Sunday Mass at 7:45 a.m. Very rough. Mrs. Quezon and the girls did not attend.
At 11 a.m. The U.S.N. Cruiser Richmond arrived to escort us. The Australian Cruiser returned to Sydney. The Richmond is much bigger and has two planes on board.
Being on the Date line, Sunday is repeated.
The concentration camp in Capaz for Filipino and American war prisoners looks like a graveyard. Only there are no tombs and mausoleums and headstones. Instead, there are thousands of walking corpses, breathing skeletons, lying, sitting, crawling, shuffling aimlessly in a bare, treeless, sun-scorched, desert-like area. Capaz is the bivouac of the living dead.
Everywhere suffering humanity walked, squatted, slept, died. There was a cold chill in my heart as I beheld the gruesome sights wrought by the war: a blind officer begging for water to quench his thirst; a young soldier pale and yellow with malaria, shivering on the sand; an old colonel with a blackened leg begging for medicine; an Igorot private shouting deliriously; hundreds of youths with tattered, blood-splattered rags clamoring for food to appease their hunger; an officer on a crutch wandering pointlessly; thousands of dust-begrimed, mud-stained, bony, skeletal, emaciated, sunken-eyed youths fighting for the slow drops of water trickling from a single faucet; hundreds lying limply on the ground waiting for the eternal sleep; a rigid corpse with a smile on his face.
I arrived in Capaz at one o’clock after taking lunch in a nipa hut in Angeles with Arturo Tanco and Dr. Katigbak. In a small house in Capaz, we met Dr. Agustin Liboro and young Enrique Albert. They were preparing medicines for the sick. They did not know how they could send the medicines, but they were going to try their best. The Japanese prohibit the sending of medicines to war prisoners in the concentration camps. They have not permitted the Red Cross nor any relief organization to give succor to the prisoners.
Oscar Jacinto accompanied me to the town convent. There I met Victor Tizon, mayor of Capaz, and Fr. Marcos Punzal. We were told that the only persons authorized to enter the prison camp were: the governor, mayor and teniente del barrio. I persuaded Mayor Tizon to please accompany me inside the camp. I told him I wanted to look for my son. There were rumors that he is sick.
We passed through a narrow, dusty road crossing the camp. On either side of the road were the temporary shelters for the prisoners: on our left were the Filipinos and on the right, Americans. Many prisoners were carrying tins varying in size to fetch water. The main problem in the camp was water. I was told afterwards that the lives of many young boys could have been saved if water could have only been given them.
I saw the camp hospital. It was no hospital at all. It was a morgue. The men were piled on the floor without pillows nor covering. There were no medicines and very limited food and water. It was a transitional station between life and death. A doctor said mortality in the camp was as high as a thousand a day. Some claim it was more.
For a while we had to stop our car. There was an endless line of stretchers. The American soldiers stood at attention. We took off our hats. I counted 60. They were to be buried in a plot reserved for the dead. One soldier carrying a stretcher suddenly knelt and collapsed. He too was dying.
Outside the camp were thousands of mothers, fathers, sweethearts, relatives, friends, trying to see their loved ones. But the sentries were adamant, stern, strict. Their bayonets were fixed, their fingers ready on their triggers. Around the camp, there were makeshift look-out towers with guards armed with machine-guns. Any prisoners approaching the barbed fence by one meter would be shot.
I saw Mrs. Ciocon. She was there all day waiting for an opportunity to see her son. Mrs. Zobel was there too. Jake, she said was an orderly in the Commandant’s office. Mrs. Gruet was also there. She was able to reach the Commandant’s office. “What do you want?” said the commander curtly. “Please,” she said in tears, “is my son alive? Is he in camp?“ The Japanese looked at the records, read the names, then he stood at attention, bowed low, paid homage to the mother of a war hero. “Madam,” he said, “your son is now in a better place.”
As it was getting dark, we decided to return home. Before leaving, I gave a bundle containing a can of coffee, some sugar and quinine capsules and sulphathiasol to Mayor Tizon. “Please,” I said, “try to give this personally to my son.”
On the way home, we met more people in cars and trucks and jitneys and carromatas going to Capaz. I saw Dr. Escoto and he told me that he was able to go inside the camp. “Philip is sick,” he said.
When I arrived home, I told my wife and kids about the sad conditions of the prisoners in Capaz. To break the loneliness, I told my daughter Neneng, to switch on the radio.
A Filipino official was giving a speech praising the magnanimity of the Imperial Japanese Army.
Made a guide on how to apply for rice ration for provinces short of supply.
1. Take an accurate census of your provinces.
2. Based on 300 grams milled rice (uncooked) per person per day, make an estimate of the needs of the provinces per day, per month and for the whole period of scarcity. Indicate deduction that can be made for any local harvests.
3. Have the provincial governor and the provincial commander (army) recommend the ration requested.
4. The request for rice ration will have to be approved by the Military Administration (Manila) at the former Department of Agriculture building. (At present, approval is made by Col. Uzaki). Said office will also determine the quantity and method of rationing for the provinces.
5. Once approved, take to the NARIC, 732 Evangelista, corner Azcarraga.
6. Present price: 117.50 per cavan, no sack, ex bodega. Deposit for sacks: 40¢ each. No checks accepted. Prices subject to revisions
Mr. Inada is getting more despotic, day by day, he slapped another employee.
The newspapers are filled with stories on the kindness of the Japanese. Pictures of Japanese soldiers playing with Filipino children and pictures of Japanese soldiers giving food to Filipino war prisoners.
The Japanese indulge in self-deception.
At 11 a.m. the destroyer left us and an Australian Cruiser escorted us. Sea quite rough. Mrs. Quezon and daughters sea sick.
Nothing unusual . Trip rough but comfortably cold. The only inconvenience is the black out which is a real “black out” from sunset to sunrise.
Received information that there is plenty of camote in Pangasinan, particularly in the municipalities of Bautista and Gerona; mongo, in the municipalities of Bautista and Gerona; mongo, in the municipalities of Urdaneta, Villasis and Binalonan; corn is almost all municipalities. There is no outlet for these products at present because of the dislocation of transportation and the lack of fuel. Must ask the Military Administration to take a hand in the purchase of these valuable food products for distribution and marketing.
Several prisoners of war have escaped from camp. That is like escaping from death.
Capas, Tarlac
F.C. Camp
Joined the grave-detail. We buried those that died this morning. Some of the graves yesterday were not dug deep enough. The bodies buried yesterday have been unearthed. The sand here is clayish because the cemetery is too near the river.
One of the boys we buried had a little piece of paper in his pocket. We opened it. It was the copy of a citation awarding him for exceptional bravery in an attack in Bataan.
(later)
Most of the boys in the camp are very depressed. They feel that “it will be a long time before we are released.”
Many are disappointed with our leaders in Manila. “All they know is to give speeches and make promises!” “Why don’t they resign from their posts if the Japs do not want to release us?”
Personally, I don’t think we will be released until all resistance in the islands has ceased. The Japs are afraid that when we are strong enough, we might start trouble again. Besides, they want to make up for the thousands of Japs who died in Bataan. The more among us that die here, the better for them.
(later)
Collecting impressions of everyone here about Bataan. It will make a book someday. Am also listening to everybody’s experience during the long walk from Bataan to this prison camp.
Apparently, the Japs gave every barch more or less the same kind of treatment, although some groups got very much worse treatment.
Consensus is that at least 15,000 died during that bloody march. Japs bayoneted men who could not keep up with the pace. Very little rest was given. Some were shot for trying to escape.
For example, there was an old soldier who took off his shoes because of blisters. Suddenly, one of the Japs clubbed him on the head. A relative of the clubbed man charged at the Jap. Both fellows were tied to a tree and slowly tortured. Their shouts could be heard by all those around, but no one was allowed to look.
Someone said that in Orani, everybody was searched. One fellow was found with Jap money in his pocket. The Jap soldier said in broken English: “Why you have Jap money? So maybe you take that from dead Jap soldier! O.K… Now you die!” And he was bayoneted in the lungs. According to the one telling the story, the Jap money was given by a Japanese officer who bought the boy’s watch.
After such exchange of stories, everybody ends the conversation with the remark: “Someday we will get even, someday.”
Very few boys in camp think that Corregidor will be able to stand. Quite a number are disappointed at America. They ask: “Where is the convoy she promised?” The great majority believe, however, “in due time, when American factories get going, Japan will be beaten.”
Must stop writing. It’s getting dark. We have no lights here.
Two boys are humming a duet. Kundiman again. I like kundimans. They are soft, plaintive, full of feeling, lonely, very lonely.
They have stopped singing. Somebody in the group is weeping. I wonder why.
(later)
Just ate another camote. Superb.
[diary does not resume until September 21, 1944]
Got up early, finished packing, paid my hotel bill and rushed to house of the President. 9:30 a.m. returned to Hotel Chevron, to pick Vice President Osmeña and we drive to the dock. Boarded the President Coolidge. I was given cabin 207. The Vice-President 208. At 11:30 a.m. General MacArthur and his staff arrived to bid us good trip. The ship sailed at 1 p.m. An Australian destroyer escorted us.
F.C.C.
Capas, Tarlac
Found a good friend, Toots Rivera. He is in charge of one of the kitchens. He gave me two “camotes.” It was a feast.
We talked about the long walk from Bataan to this place. He estimates that about 18,000 perished in that bloody march. Someday I intend to write about it, if I don’t die here myself.
Heard from him about the cruel death of Martin de Veyra. A squad of Japs stopped de Veyra and asked him to give them his pocketbook. watch. and ring, according to Rivera. “Then one of the Japs,” explained Rivera, “started to shout at de Veyra.” Apparently, de Veyra did not want to give his ring, for sentimental reasons, said Rivera. The Jap got angry, he fixed his bayonet and thust it on top of de Veyra’s right eye. De Veyra dropped on the Japs feet, and he was left on the ground. No one was allowed to lift him.
I told Rivera that one of the sights I never forget was a dreadful hole about the size of a small well, near Lubao, Pampanga. There, the bodies of American prisoners, who dropped on the ground because they were too weak to walk, were piled high. Others were bayoneted when they refused to stand because their legs could no longer lift their haggard bodies. Inside the “hole” were many snakes crawling over the bleeding bodies of the Americans. I noticed three or four were still alive…
I also saw one American Major shout in desperation: “Hell, you damn Japs, go ahead and kill me, KILL ME! KILL ME! I CAN’T WALK ANYMORE– KILL ME!” The Jap killed him with a cruel blow that smashed the American’s cranium.
I went out with Vice-President Osmeña to the center of the city. Left him there and went to the President’s house. At 10 a.m. I went to General Sutherland’s office. Discussed with him important matters.
11 a.m. Rushed to Chevron Hotel, Mr. Pick, President of the Victorian Tennis Association called on me. We drove to the Bank of New South Wales where the Davis Cup, emblem of tennis supremacy is deposited. He showed it to me. He was very kind and advised me that I had been made an Honorary Member of the Victorian Tennis Club.
Had dinner at Florentino’s. Went to the movies to see That Night in Rio. When I got home I found a note that Colonel Sher wanted to talk to me. I rushed to Menzies Hotel. Saw Colonel Sher.
Concentration Camp
Capas, Tarlac
Great day. Dr. Escoto of the Red Cross was able to enter our camp. He was called by the Camp Commander because the Jap guard is sick. He passed our quarters, gave medicines for the boys with dysentery and malaria. He left bottles of quinine and sulfa-thiasol to the medical officers. I asked him if he could give a letter for my family. He said make it small and short so I can keep it in my pocket without the guards noticing. They might search me. I wrote: “Dear Mama and Papa: How are you? I love you.” It was a silly letter.
I am not feeling well. I have a fever everyday. There is nothing to do but pray. I pray as many rosaries as I can. It makes me feel better.
Pimentel and Fernando are sure to die, according to a medical officer…
(later)
Met a fellow whose name I don’t remember now. He said he asked the doctor to see his family for him, but he forgot to give his address.
Col. Alba told us today that one prisoner was shot while trying to escape.
Attended Mass at President Quezon’s house. He asked us to stay for breakfast. At 10 a.m. I went to General MacArthur’s Headquarters to finish some important matters. Returned to Chevron for luncheon.
At 1:45 p.m. Mr. Robertson (Robby) picked me up and we drove to the Victorian Tennis Club where I was the guest of Mr. & Mrs. Harry Hopman. It is on the center court of this club that the important Australian Tennis tournaments and also the Davis Cup games are held. The two center courts were reserved for us. We had marvelous games. I played very well. Paired with Hopman we played against two very good players and we beat them 6-0. The second set was not played as it was ‘tea-time.’
From the club we drove to Mr. & Mrs. Hopman’s house which is near the club for sandwiches and drinks. I had to leave at 6 p.m. as I had a dinner engagement.
At 7 p.m. Vice-President Osmeña and I attended a family dinner given in the home of Mr. & Mrs. Purges and their attractive daughter Valerie.
Four-page pictorial on this Sunday’s Tribune regarding the historic defeat of the Fil-American defenders of Bataan.
In the front page is a candid shot of Lieut. Gen. Masaharu Homma, Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial Japanese Forces. Ironically, the background of the picture is Jose Rizal’s monument.
On the lower portion of the page is a picture of Major General Edward King, Jr., Commander of Bataan, with members of his staff. They are seated on wooden chairs. General King has his arms crossed and he looks aloof. The aide beside him looks thin, haggard, lonely.
The next page shows several shots of Japanese tanks breaking through jungle vines and dusty, winding roads. Also pictures of USAFFE troops marching towards Orani, some carrying white flags. In the center of the page is a heart-rending picture of troops closely hemmed in a small area with pieces of cloth tied on their heads to protect themselves from the sun. You can that see they all look gaunt, skeletal, weary, sick.
There is also a picture of two American doughboys, helmets tilted at an angle, with cigarettes dangling on their mouths and a smile on their faces.
Went to the house of the President for conference at 9:30 a.m. Went at 10 a.m. to the Headquarters of General MacArthur. Conferred with General Sutherland about the proposed Philippine decorations D.S.C. and M.S.C. Saw Colonel Steven’s and Colonel Fitch (G-1 and Adj. General respectively) and read the A.R. 600-35 of November 1941.
At 1:10 p.m. I rushed to Chevron for luncheon. Then at 2:30 p.m. Mr. Baker President of the South Yarra Tennis Club came to pick me up and took me to the club. He had arranged some games for me.
At 6:30 p.m. Vice President Osmeña invited me to dinner at Florentino’s and then we went to the Comic Opera to see Nightbirds by Stravinsky. I enjoyed the show, especially the ballet.
Capas, Tarlac
Filipino Concentration Camp
Heard that two school-mates are dying. They are Fermin Fernando, star basketball forward, and Luis Pimentel, brilliant speaker, great actor, and good friend. No help can be extended to them. Fernando has malaria; Pimentel, dysentery.
Many rumors in camp. It is said that we will be released after the fall of Corregidor. Others believe we will be prisoners till the end of the war in the East. Still others think that we will be made to fight against the Americans in Australia. I think that is impossible, not only because we won’t fight, but because we are in no condition to fight. Some opine that our leaders in Manila are trying to work out some compromise with the Japs to obtain our unconditional release.
(later)
Heart-breaking sight. Saw seven Americans. They were walking slowly in the narrow road between the Filipino and American concentration camps. Their faces were haggard, beards long, bodies emaciated. Suddenly, one American with an air-corps insignia collapsed on the ground. One of his friends tried to pick him up but the Jap guard motioned him to move away. Then the guard ran his bayonet through the American’s chest. I saw his blood flow to the sand. They were about twenty yards from me. I felt like killing that guard. Then the six remaining Americans were made to pick their dead comrade. The Jap grinned.
(later)
Evening. The breeze is cool. I can see the blue outline of Mt. Arayat in the distance. Somebody is humming a sad kundiman. The loneliest songs are sad kundimans.
The moonlight is shining softly on the dust-covered, half-naked bodies of the war-prisoners. Most of the boys are sleeping. I wonder how many of them will see the morning. Every day, twenty or thirty die in the night. Last evening, the soldier sleeping beside me died quietly. In the morning, we told him to wake up. “Up!” I shouted, “Roll-call, up!” When I held him, I felt he was already stiff. Rigor mortis had set in. There was a sardonic smile on his lips…
Commissioner of Agriculture, Rafael Alunan, gave a speech before the rice-production conferees. He said in part:
With the closing of the sources of imported rice and the disruption of the normal life in our rural districts, a situation already bad has been aggravated.
The country imports an annual average of 1,500,000 cavans of rice which is equivalent to 3,000,000 cavans of palay.
It behooves us therefore to give more intelligent thought and to take better coordinated steps to solve this important problem of food of our people.
We have held numerous conversations with the Japanese authorities and it was agreed to adopt a national program of rice production authorities of the rice-growing provinces to cooperate in the carrying out of such a program. Necessarily, the program of increased rice production involves the increased production also of other food crops.
The danger of a food shortage in view of the difficulty to import rice cannot be minimized. War has cut our overseas source of supply. We must depend on ourselves if we are to be saved. I hope the Commissioner of Agriculture, Rafael Alunan, and the Commissioner of the Interior, Jose Laurel, will exert every effort to increase the country’s rice production to a point commensurate with its consumption.
The campaign for increased rice production should not end with the Commissioner’s speech.
Capas, Tarlac, FCC
There is only one faucet for our regiment. At nine o’clock today, the Japs opened the main water switch. The boys rushed with their canteens. Some boys were badly hurt in the mad dash for the faucet. Then suddenly, the Japs turned it off again.
Col. Alba has organized the water distribution because of this incident. From now on, a large receptacle will be placed directly under the faucet. The water collected will be equally divided among the boys.
Went to the “hospital” to visit my cousin, Tirso Matias. He was lying on the wooden floor like all the hundreds of sick prisoners. His face was pale and his eyes were yellow. He could hardly talk, and he asked in a very weak voice: “Have you got quinine?” I had none.
This hospital was no hospital. It was really a morgue for those about to die. All the sick were made to lie beside each other on the wooden floor. There were no beds, no medicines, no pillows, sheets, nor blankets. Everybody who was sick was sent to that sweathouse rehardless of the kind of illness. There was one soldier groaning because of an acute appendicitis. Another was hollering for water, but there was no water. One had cerebral malaria, and he kept shivering and twisting. An Igorot soldier had dysentery, and the floor around was wet and covered with flies.
(later)
The sun is scorching. My body is covered with dust because every time the wind blows, it sweeps the sand. This is like a desert.
I am very thirsty. I was not able to drink from my canteen cup this morning because I dropped it. The water spilled on the ground.
Can hear the drone of many planes above. Jap bombers. Probably heading for Corregidor. It must be hell in the Rock. How long will it stand?
It is terrible to see the reactions of shell-shocked soldiers. Just now, one of the boys suddenly trembled at the sound of the planes. His eyes dilated. His facial muscles started to shake involuntarily. His face had a queer, lost, nervous expression.
About 200 died today. Many more will die. I am sure it will reach thousands.
What are our leaders doing? Why don’t the Filipino officials make strong representations? Thousands of young lives are being lost every hour…
Meeting on rice-production at the Legislative building under the auspices of the Commissioner of Agriculture and Commerce, Rafael Alunan. Main problems discussed:
(1) Emergency plan for encouraging production of rice and other food crops to meet the present emergency:
(2) Long-range program for increased rice production;
(3) Methods for increasing total production;
(4) Methods for improving the rate of production per hectare;
(5) Elimination of marginal lands;
(6) Soil fertility and conservation and use of fertilizers;
(7) Diversification of crops and home industries of rice farms;
(8) Reduction of cost of operation through labor-saving devices;
(9) Development of irrigation system and improvement of irrigation practices;
(10) Stabilization of the rice industry through organized marketing and distribution and the granting of lands to small farms.
Will close the radio. Can’t stand Japanese music.
The Philippine Diary Project 