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The constant danger is wearing me thin. I pretty much lose all recollection of time, as if my memory is playing tricks on me, refusing to work for me.  For the next seven days we search for the hidden Japs, finding them only after they had fired at or killed one of our men. Our patrols are scattered like ants across our area of concern.  

� 2006 Chet Nycum,  Corregidor Historic Society -, 503d PRCT Heritage Bn. -  all rights reserved