The performance was quite dull, until one of the children discovered
the Americans in the back of the truck. The little faces brightened
and broke into smiles; "V" signs began to appear, followed by a chorus
of "Hello, Joe! Hello, Joe! Hello, Joe; Mabuhay, Joe!" The Japs were
plenty irked and hurried the truck down the highway.
In the early afternoon we passed through the barrio where we had
encountered the Japanese Chevy and tanks seven months before. Shortly
we passed through San Jose and on to the central plains.
About one mile before reaching the internment camp at Cabanatuan, we
suddenly became aware of a horrible, acrid stench, the smell of
disease, dysentery and death.
Chapter V
JAPANESE PRISONER OF WAR CAMP NO1, CABANATUAN
Toward evening we arrived at the gate-made of slender poles and barbed
wire-which I immediately recognized as one of the camps built prior to
the war to house a division of the Philippine Army. It was located on
several hundred acres of treeless wasteland (formerly rice paddies)
near the foothills of the Sierra Madre Mountains.
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