Real late in the night a very elderly gentleman came in. I later found out that he was the commanding general of the entire Rabaul area, which at one time included all the Solomon Islands, Bougainville, New Ireland, New Britain, and what the Japanese held of New Guinea, so he was quite an important person. When he came in I noticed that the interpreter bowed about twelve times.

I was sitting on the chair with my injured leg crossed over my good one, holding onto it with both hands. After the interpreter was through with his bowing spree, he turned around and slapped my injured leg off the other one. Scolding me, he said: "Don't you know it is impolite to cross your legs in front of the commmanding general?"

But I was in pain and kind of punchy, and I said: "God damn it, tell him my leg hurts like hell!"

So the interpreter turned around and went chop-chop-chop to this big boy, and the answer came back to the interpreter, who turned around to me and said: "The commanding general says if your leg hurts you can cross it."

I answered: "Thank you," nodded to the elderly gent, and crossed my leg and held onto it with both hands.

Now this old boy didn't ask me questions like the underlings had done. He wanted to know who started the war. My answer was: "Why, you people, of course."

He wanted to know where.

"Why, Pearl Harbor."

Then he wanted to know what I thought of the Japanese people. Well, I was diplomatic enough to say that I personally didn't have much against them, but then I went on at great length saying what I thought of their militaristic government, and what I thought of the atrocities I knew were being committed in the Philippine Islands and in China.

The interpreter told me that the commanding general was about ready to leave but would like to tell me a fable and would I mind.

I answered: "Why, no, certainly not."

So the commanding general told this fable, and as nearly as I can recall - for I was shot in the head and everythhing else, and was punchy, shot, and exhausted - the fable went like this:

"Once upon a time there was a little old lady and she traded with five merchants. She always paid her bills and got along fine. Finally the five merchants got together and they jacked up their prices so high the little old lady couldn't afford to live any longer. That's the end of the story."