Feb. 3, 45: Many patients were dying; the Japs told us they had
ordered Red Cross packages, but they never arrived.
Joe Ganahl, the Northern Luzon Force, told me, "I feel as weak as a
kitten!" and proceeded to lay down and die.
The food set-up was going from bad to worse. Half-cup of soup twice
daily. Wt. 80 lbs.
Feb. 13, 45: Severe pains in my legs and feet. Could be beriberi,
vascular disease or frost bite, or all three. Believed gangrene was
setting in.
Feb. 16,45: Awakened, no feeling in my feet at all. Believed the end
must be near. Wrote Judy a final note, telling her I loved her and
didn't want to leave her. I gave the note to Chaplain Taylor to be
delivered after the war.
The following days were very painful.
Mar. 1, 45: Loaded into charcoal-burning ambulances and taken to the
railroad station. Spent the day riding on coaches, arriving at our
destination about dark.
Fukuoka Camp #22
Walked up a steep hill for half a mile, hanging heavily on an
agreeable Jap guard. Greeted by jolly Australian prisoners; their
language was very "bloody," but they were good guys, serving us hot
soup and Red Cross coffee, saved from their own rations.
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