Evening star., 1944-02-14

MELLNIK, u. S. A., as Told to
CHAPTER IX-CHRISTMAS AND
ESCAPE THOUGHTS.
Comdr. Mccoy:
Almost since the day of arrival
at Mindanao there had been lurk-
Ing In my mind the thought of
escape, the hope that some avenue
would open itself, that some oppor-
tunity would be provided. Nothing
concrete came of these groupings
through November and December,
there were the usual six days of
work each week with Sundays quite
often thrown in as a work day when
1t. Hosume caught us stealing food.
Early In January I was given
charge of detail to work the pris-
on's coffee plantation. There were
about IS officers, all older than 40,
and mostly lieutenant colonels.
These older men had been assigned
to this detail as a result of consid-
cradle undercover maneuvering on
the part Of the American officials
of the prison, in order that they
might have better chance OF steal
ing food enough to keep them alive.
I was assisted on this detail by
Mellnik-he and I were the only
younger officers in the group-and
1t was here that we began to plan
our escape. After I had mentioned
the plan to him, Mellnik gave it
careful thought, which was his Gus
tom. Once he had decided, he never
once faltered at any point; in fact,
he came up with some of the ideas
that finally made our escape pos
sible.
At Mellnik's suggestion we wan
gled two sergeants to assist with the
midday cooking for our work party
-Sergts. Paul MarShallSand r. B.
Spielman. Marshall and Spielman
were taken in on the escape plan,
and at once proved both eager and
helpful. Dur hope was to make a
break outsof the prison farm, elude
our guards, reach the coast and set
out in a stolen sailboat. We were
not too enthusiastic about our
chances for a successful escape. On
the other hand, neither were we
too enthusiastic about our chances
OF staying alive if we remained in
the hands of the JapS.
The plan had not yet matured,
however, when there occurred an
event which frightened the lives
of all the American prisoners, at
least temporarily.
Red Cross Boxes Arrive.
As I was returning from work
one afternoon in early January, I
was met near the prison barracks
bv an enlisted seaman who had been
attached to my unit at the Cavite
Navy Yard, before the fall of Cor
regidor.
IT'S Christmas, Comdr. Mccoy"
he shouted. Its Christmas!"
I was we'll aware that Christmas
had already passed, practically
without notice, so I asked him to
explain his excitement.
Stuff from home" he babbled.
Boxes from the States. Red Cross
boxes"
had quickened my pace, and by
now I was trotting along beside
him. Then I must confess that both
of us broke into a run, a headlong
dash for the barracks.
The news was true. There were,
indeed, Red Gross boxes, two for
each prisoner. More than that, they
meant to each of us, home. AS each
prisoner ripped open a box, I sus-
pect that there were many besides
myself who worked with catch in
The throat.
I will make no attempt to d.
scribe the joy with which those
boxes were received. Just as there !
Is no word for truth" in the Jap
anese language, neither are there
any words known to me which could
describe the feelings with which we
greeted this first communication
from our homeland.
There was coffee-a concentrate
which tasted better than any steam
ing cup I had ever drunk to cheer
an icy night on the bridge of a ship
at sea. 1t was the first I had tasted
since a smuggled sip months ago in