Wata responded: "Evelbody must die! This is no time for
sympathy!"
The sea was very rough and very cold! During the night we entered a
land-locked harbor-Takao in Formosa. It was New Year's Eve! The old
bewhiskered rabbi and farmer, Aaron Kliatchko died. The count, (?)
1,304
Jan. 1, 1945: We dared to think that things might get better in
"forty-five." We began to hear, "Still alive in 'forty-five!'" Issued
five moldy "hardtack" type biscuits.
The prisoners were now like animals in a cage begging for food and
cigarettes. The Japs couldn't understand how the Americans could
expend so much energy jumping for cigarettes, when they were
supposedly very weak. Three-quarters of a cup of water (a real treat).
Bitter cold. We were extremely hungry, thirsty and cold. Our bodies
were very sore and we were unable to sleep.
Old John "The Thief," died. The count, (?) 1,303.
Jan. 2, 1945: The harbor was surrounded by high, snow covered
mountains; we were in southern Formosa. The Japanese patients were
taken out of the holds; their areas were fumigated by American
soldiers-hoping to get something to eat in return for their work.
Pages:
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153