It consisted of some
one hundred cantonment type barracks with walls of nipa and roofs of
swali and cogan grass.
Within the barbed wire enclosure, many of the seven thousand
half-naked, starved bodies, the "captives," slowly milled about camp.
In the several guard towers along the fence, sentries closely
scrutinized their movements. The arrival of our old truck and its
handful of new captives were scarcely noted in camp.
I made my "duty calls" on Col. D. J. Rutherford, C.A.C.,
Camp Commander, on Lt. Col. Leo Pacquet, Group II Commander, and Col.
Gillespie, Medical C. O. Group II Dispensary proved to be a small,
twenty by twenty foot grass shack. In one corner was my two-by six
foot bamboo slat bed for the next several months.
Although my weight was down from 165 to 120 pounds because of amoebic
dysentery, I was still relatively active and in fair health. How lucky
I had been to have missed the starvation, the many diseases, the
battles and bombings on Bataan and Corregidor, and most of all, the
"Death March," which had taken so many thousands of lives,
"slaughtered by the Japs."
"Thank you God!" became my frequent and fervent prayer.
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