July 24, 1900 4:00 p.m.
"I want no prisoners. I wish you to kill and burn, the more you kill and
burn the better it will please me...Kill everyone over the age of ten."
-General Jacob H. Smith, Samar Campaign
I have half the mind to do away my two prisoners. The older prisoner
exhibited the worst in man, a beast turned wild, but the orders from
General Miclat that arrived this morning explicitly stated not to kill or
mutilate any of the prisoners until further orders. Damn! I would like to
give the bastard the same treatment his superiors gave us during that
nice incident in Samar. But, I have to grit my teeth and wait for General
Miclat's communiqué.
The other one whose name was David was a bit shocked by the turn of
events, especially when he divulged important information of his troops.
And yes, he is more handsome than the older one who hasn't shaved in
weeks. Even though the older one looked like a bandit, he still has that
rugged masculinity inside, and from his hair-covered body yesterday, he
is actually more defined than David. Fortunate for me David was
cooperative in last night's interrogation. Perhaps, tonight more
information will be extracted.
Both men reek of rancid butter, so I ordered Sgt. Tibo-on to bring them
to the nearest creek to have them washed up. I can imagine their
embarrassment being washed by my men, their private parts being fondled,
being soaped up, being rinsed. I can see Tibo-on and his soldiers
lathering up the bound Americano's cleft, poking his hole, his back being
massaged with soap, and oh, I sometimes have the imagination of a madman.
Tibo-on reported back that while both Americanos behaved well, the older
soldier tried to struggle from his bonds thinking he can just escape
naked in these parts. It was a good thing Tibo-on struck his head with
his riflebutt before he was able to do real damage. When I saw that the
sergeant was carrying back one of the soldiers on his shoulders, I
immediately ordered both men to be confined in separate huts. I had Dr.
Lim, my Chinese friend, fetched from Calaca to attend to the bleeding of
the poor bastard, but suffice to say, it already had caked. I think
that's a good sign, but one cannot be too sure. It's nearing dusk, so I
hope the good Doctor will be able to make it here before the moon goes
out.
I am about to eat dinner and after the meal, I'll see if I can get more
details from my prisoners.
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