We grew accustomed to the many strange noises in the
jungles: birds, monkeys and many other animals, but were having
trouble with the ants, spiders and mosquitoes. Camping in the tropics
was quite different from camping in the States. In the Philippines
every square inch of soil has its menagerie of insects. One of the
things I feared the most was being eaten to death if I should be
unlucky enough to be wounded.
Each night I thanked God for sparing my life. Our American medic, Al
Roholt, carried a pocket New Testament. Within several days each of us
had read through it.
We quickly learned that we couldn't eke out an existence in the
jungle. There was too much competition. The birds and animals were
extremely mobile and agile, getting to any available food much quicker
than we could.
The Japanese cavalry and infantry were making daily trips up and down
the highway. They entered houses along the road and slapped the
Filipinos, demanding, "Where are the Americans?" The natives remained
loyal and gave them no information.
Peeking through the bushes at the Jap units going by, I began to
wonder why and how studying medicine had gotten me into such a mess.
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