ation of our own wounded is difficult. It is not possible
to dress their wounds properly in the darkness, and they bleed again
upon slight motion. As we carry them on the shaky litters in the dark
over fallen trees of the park, they suffer unbearable pain as the
result of the movement, and lose dangerously large quantities of blood.
Our rescuing angel in this difficult situation is a Japanese Protestant
pastor. He has brought up a boat and offers to take our wounded up
stream to a place where progress is easier. First, we lower the litter
containing Father Schiffer into the boat and two of us accompany him.
We plan to bring the boat back for the Father Superior. The boat
returns about one-half hour later and the pastor requests that several
of us help in the rescue of two children whom he had seen in the river.
We rescue them. They have severe burns. Soon they suffer chills and
die in the park.

The Father Superior is conveyed in the boat in the same manner as
Father Schiffer. The theology student and myself accompany him.
Father Cieslik considers himself strong enough to make his way on foot
to Nagatsuke with the rest of us, but Father Kleinsorge cannot walk so
far and we leave him behind and promise to come for him and the
housekeeper tomorrow. From the other side of the stream comes the
whinny of horses who are threatened by the fire. We land on a sand
spit which juts out from the shore. It is full of wounded who have
taken refuge there. They scream for aid for they are afraid of
drowning as the river may rise with the sea, and cover the sand spit.
They themselves are too weak to move. However, we must press on and
finally we reach the spot where the group containing Father Schiffer is
waiting.

Here a rescue party had brought a large case of fresh rice cakes but
there is no one to distribute them to the numerous wounded that lie all
about. We distribute them to those that are nearby and also help
ourselves. The wounded call for water and we come to the aid of a few.
Cries for help are heard from a distance, but we cannot approach the
ruins from which they come. A group of soldiers comes along the road
and their officer notices that we speak a strange language. He at once
draws his sword, screamingly demands who we are and threatens to cut us
down. Father Laures, Jr., seizes his arm and explains that we are
German. We finally quiet him down. He thought that we might well be
Americans who had p