82 of us would have been repatriated. You could not have stood 3-1/2 years of captivity- nor could the baby. Had I been ordered to take my flimsy craft, built as a river vessel to Singapore, into another shambles, who knows what would have happened? In His wise way He led me to be captured in Canton where I qualified as a naval attache for repatriation, and you, with your U.S. citizenship were eligible for repatriation from Hong Kong. It gave me my chance to go from Portuguese East Africa to the Southwest Pacific to command a troop transport for two years in the foreward area. Many an hour I spent on Wood's verandah looking down at the street below, at the small lawns separating the sidewalks. There was no vehicular traffic on the island, and now the sidewalks were becoming lichen covered. I used to watch a Mynah Bird strut pompously on the lawn. He would stamp on the grass, incline his head, and listen. This action was repeated many times, but eventually he would begin frantic digging, his goal a fat earthworm. The struggle would begin in earnest. The bird would brace himself, arch his shoulders, and pull. If the earth were dry the worm would have good friction and could hold. Minutes would pass while the interesting tug-of-war kept on. One minute the bird seemed to have the worm. Then he would relax while the worm took up the slack and the bird must begin again. He seldom won. One morning after a night of rain the ground was thoroughly soaked. The Mynah was out there in the rain pulling. Victory was easier that day. The worms were near the surface and easily pulled out of the soft earth. Had I not been a prisoner I might never have seen this epic struggle of nature. Then there were the flowers, Camellias of purest white, flower of my captivity. Petunias come in March in Canton. I had them in Shanghai in June, and again in September in Lourenco Marques. Life can be an ever-flowing pageant of beauty when one keeps shifting hemispheres. The silence of captivity can become unbearable, the association with one's fellow prisoners can be equally unbearable. The loss of personal liberty and the humiliating role of prisoner of war grates continually on the soul.
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