The semester long activity that helps students develop their biographies is the weekly letter. Students write these letters in the voice of their historical character using the weekly topic for the subject matter. Some of these letters are long intricate narrtives, while others tended to be short notes. In some cases we could barely wait from week to week to learn what had happened to a character. Students can show great creativity if they take this assignment seriously. Below is the first example of a students weekly letter. Click here to the second example of a student weekly letter.

4 November 1943

It's happened again--just as my life had gained some degree of sanity and normalcy, as I'd grown accustomed to living out of Agdagnan, it was all pulled out from under me and now I find myself on the move again, trying desperately to stay one step ahead of the Japs. But unlike when the American forces were first driven out of the islands or when the last of those fighting surrendered on Corregidor, the latest upheaval in my time here wasn't due to some breakdown in international relations or an untenable tactical situation, but my failings, my misjudgment--this time I've only myself to blame and I'm afraid others are going to pay for it.

Life in Agdagnan had been good; there was always food and fresh clothes, the locals were friendly as everywhere else, and, once proper arrangements had been made with the mayor, the town served as an ideal clandestine base for strikes against Jap supply lines crossing Luzon to and from Manilla. Things had been going well. Too well as it turned out. Time and again, Ferd would warn the others and me about the dangers of complacency. Certainly, he would admit, our movements against the Japs had become as easy as shooting ducks in a barrel with experience, and we were all but untouchable in Agdagnan due to the mayor's various "business" dealings with the Japanese (the Senor, after all, was the areas's most prominent pimp and dealer in black market items), but Ferd reminded us that any security we may have felt was just an illusion. In times like these, he said, circumstances could change and loyalties could shift without the least bit of warning. The Senor couldn't be trusted. No one could.

I should have listened to him, but I didn't. And Corporal Keyes and even Salvador have been apt to agree with my take on things: If Agdagnan wasn't safe, then no place really was, but we could trust the mayor insofar as it was in his best interests to help us. Our job was to make sure that that remained the case, through our bribes of Japanese goods and valuables. I guess it never occurred to me that the Japs might make it more worth the Senor's while to betray us.

I suppose it all started around the time a man named Savaras arrived in town, about a month ago. He stumbled into Agdagnan wearing an expensive linen suit, now soiled and bloody, and he himself was bruised and bleeding, with a badly broken arm and a concussion. It was obvious that he'd been severely beaten by someone or, more likely, several someones. Delia, always the humanitarian, helped a local Filipino family attend to him. Between her and the Senor's secretary Paolo, I learned the fellow's name and that he'd been an elected official in a nearby province--that is, until the Japanese occupation decided to run its own candidate. When a new election was held, Savaras won by a landslide, so he was beaten by Japanese soldiers and run out of town. While Ferd, upon hearin this, wasn't altogether disbelieving of Savaras' story, he told me, always suspicious, that a close eye should be kept on the man. Now, I have to admit, that I was mildly interested in Savaras at best, not nearly as much as prudence mandated. But then, during the time, I had other and, I felt, greater concerns.

The search for a vessel seaworthy enough to make the trip to Australia and someone to sail her wasn't going well at all. After spending a few months talking to the Filipino acquaintances I had made and having nothing to show for it, I decided to ask the mayor, through Paolo, to use his influence to secure a boat. Of course, Paolo told me cheerfully, the Senor could arrange such a thing, but it would be difficult and their would be many expenses. That initial inquiry cost me an entire case of captured mike-mike cartridges, and I was told I'd receive word from the Senor the next week.

But there was no word to the affirmative that next week, only Paolo telling me that, yes, the Senor was capable of getting a boat, but there were many obstacles, many Japanese officials to bribe. It was very difficult, and very, very expensive. And there went a case of American cigarettes.

And so it went. I paid Paolo off for information every week and got the same answer--"Next week, Joe." I began to bring more back from our raids than I could comfortably handle, and Ferd had made it clear that getting Fitz and Delia out of the Philippines was not his problem and offered no help toward that end. By the time "next week" turned into this month, I was pretty angry with Paolo and his Senor.

"I think you and your boss are fleecing me, Paolo," I told him the day after Savaras had arrived in Agdagnan, "And I don't appreciate it one bit."

Paolo only smiled with white, white teeth and bobbed his head. "Next week, Joe. Next week."

And, wonder of wonders, that next week did bring news from the mayor. Keyes and I stood smoking one night outside the town's former post office where we'd made our home, when the Corporal spotted Paolo coming down the street toward us.

"Hey, there's that chiseler, Paolo," Keyes said, then called out to the secretary, "Say, Pally, what's the news?"

Paolo approached, grinning as always. "The news is very good," he said. "My Senor was able to hire you a boat. It leave from Manilla Thursday. You only need make arrangements personally with the captain before then. And, of course"--the grin widened--"there will be expenses."

"Of course," Keyes and I said in unison.

But there it was, and it seemed too good to be true. After weeks of wheeling and dealing, Delia--and Fitz, I reminded myself--could be on a boat to Australia, and she--they--would be safe. Of, course, going into Manilla could prove dangerous, especially for Anglos, but it could be done. I only needed to study the layout there and weigh all the options sometime before Thursday. I went inside to tell them the good news. In the post office's main hallway I ran into Delia, on her way out to find me.

"I have to talk to you, Nathan," she said. She looked worried, which in turn worried me.

"What is it?"

"Savaras," she said, "He's beginning to make me nervous."

"You were the one who took him in."

"I know, and I hope I don't end up regretting it. But he's been asking a lot of strange questions. Especially about you and Corporal Keyes. And Fitz and me. Where we came from, how we avoided capture."

"That's only natural. We're the only Anglos he's seen free. I'd be curious too," I replied Then I smiled at her. "But after Thursday you won't have to worry about it anymore, about any of it."

Her face lit up. "You found a boat?" she asked. I told her about the deal I'd made with the mayor, and that Keyes and I would be going to Manilla the next day to make sure it was safe. "You can tell Fitz," I said. "I have to find Ferd and let him know Keyes and I can't move out with him tonight."

"But, Nathan," she said, "Ferd and the others left this morning. Quite suddenly."

"He did?" I asked, shocked. That was completely unlike Ferd not to tell me. That was another thing to trouble me, in addition to the fact that--and I think Delia realized it too--once she was off, I'd probably never see her again.

Keyes and I were not even fifteen miles out of Agdagnan when we were shot at. It was an old trick; a Japanese commando would tie himself up in a tree with a long rifle and wait to ambush his prey. Fortunately for us, the Jap waiting for us outside of town had fallen asleep and didn't hear us until we had nearly passed him by. He ended up taking his shots through dense foliage, and his first bullet missed us wide. Keyes and I dropped to the ground with our weapons ready as the Jap fired again. Keyes cried out--he had been struck in the leg. Blindly, I fired into the trees overhead and managed a lucky shot. I heard the Jap grunt and he slipped from his harness, dangling from the bottom branches of the tree. He was dead I look to Keyes, who was groaning pain.

"Christ, that hurts," he said through clenched teeth. "How bad is it, Lieutenant?"

"Not very," I told him. "It went through." I began bandaging his leg.

"Bastard was waiting for us, Red. Not just anybody. He was waiting for us." I felt a chill.

"We've got to get back, Keyes, right now." I said. "Can you walk?"

"I can try."

I took us nearly two hours to get back to Agdagnan. When we reached the edge of town, we could already hear small arms fire. We'd been discovered.

"Savaras," Keyes said angrily. "That little Flip son of a bitch sold us out. I know it."

I didn't get a chance to answer. To our left we heard a massive explosion--it was the mayor's hacienda beyond his vast coconut plantation. We could see a bright pillar of flame rising above the trees. The corporal was right, I thought, Savaras had informed on us. An now the Japs were punishing the mayor for harboring us. Then another thought: Delia was down there unprotected.

"Let's go."

The worst had happened. There was a Japanese; staff car parked outside the post office. We were barely within sight when a Jap officer fired on us. Keyes and I sought cover behind a nearby building, shooting back. Then we stopped. Two other officers were leading Delia and Fitz out of the post office, using them as shields and forced them into the car. Delia and I locked eyes for the briefest of moments before she disappeared inside and the car tore off, throwing up a cloud of dust in the darkness. She was gone. I stood there, frozen with shock, my rifle hangin useless in my hands. Keyes was tugging on my arm.

"C'mon, there's bound to be more of them. We gotta get out of here."

I nodded blankly and began to help him down a darkened, narrow street. Then a pair of hands reached out of the shadows and grabbed me.

"Not that way, Red," Ferd said into my ear.

"Ferd! Where have you been?"

"Around," he replied.

"Savaras sold us to the Japs," Keyes spat. Ferd shook his head.

"Savaras is dead. Japanese soldiers shot him a few minutes ago. He did not betray us. Someone else did and I've already taken care of that one." Ferd held out his hand. In it were several grenade pins. I suddenly know what had happened to the Senor's house.

"And Paolo?" I asked him. Ferd shook his head again and told me the mayor's man had disappeared. "We must leave now," Ferd said. I was looking at the spot where Delia had been moments before. "There is nothing you can do, Red," Ferd assured me. "Fitzhume and the girl will be taken to Santo Tomas, where they should have gone at the beginning. They will be safe."

Reluctantly, I left with Ferd and we met Salvador and the rest of the group outside of town. Then it was back into the jungle. Ferd was right, had been right all along. No one could be trusted, it was true. And because I didn't take the simple advice to heart, I've let those that depended on me down. I'd made a fatal mistake--I trusted Paolo and his boss. And Fitz and Delia had made a mistake too--they trusted me.

Lt. Nathan Kellegher

Aaron Ritchie

Author: Becky Driscoll
E-Mail: bdriscoll@dcccd.edu