Shoutouts to Hibernia12 and Foxy121, Salman Naveed (hope I spelt that right!) and NancyAustin for being loyal reviewers, and to my mom and dad, who may not ever understand/read this or any fanfiction but are still pretty awesome just the same. :)

I love all of my sparklers! You guys are so sweet!

-Frank and Nancy-

(I promise we'll get back to Joe soon!)

Frank headed to his station, where he was again patted down and searched. The Japanese soldier searching him took his knife, collapsed shovel, silverware kit, and a coil of cord but allowed him to keep his medical bag. Frank glanced at the silverware, knife, cord, and shovel- his last hope of somehow digging under a fence to escape- before being walked to the medical personnel' s barracks by Mac

He studied the camp as he walked, seeking escape routes but seeing none. Just because I signed their papers doesn't mean I can't break that promise.

Mac gestured grandly at a barrack. Frank stepped forward. Opening the dingy door, he saw rows of filthy bunks. A few cots also lined the walls; apparently every spare bit of space was used for sleeping. Light filtered through a small window. It was devoid of any occupants.

"You can put your personal stuff they let you keep on this bottom bunk. Then I'll take you to the infirmary, where you'll start work. Everyone works, here..."

The bunks were basically just like the cots, the only difference being the frame that allowed them to be stacked three tall. There were no sheets or pillows. Frank sat his tiny pocket New Testament,mini notebook, extra shoelaces and a pencil - the only things deemed harmless by the officer- down.

He took off his helmet and sat it under the bunk before following Mac out, still carrying his medical bag.

Mac led him down a dusty road running through the middle of the camp, to a large building with a crude red cross painted haphazardly on one side. "Here we are! I'd better get back to work on my patients. The Japs just call me to translate when a new group of unfortunate prisoners arrive."

Nodding, Frank looked around. Flies swarmed in the stuffy, hot room. A medics were working, assisted by a few nurses - and Nancy. He gave her an encouraging smile when he saw her walk past.

"Excuse me. I'm a new ...prisoner?" It felt so odd to consider himself a captive. "Do you have a leader I'm supposed to report to? I'm a medic, too, and -"

"Boys, we have a newbie!"

They gathered eagerly around him. "I hope you have supplies in that bag. We tend to run out quickly, and when we're out, well, were out."

"A little. They don't get supplies to you? I should think their prisoners are more valuable alive?"

"Apparently not," one muttered darkly. "Our leader's down with malaria right now."

"I have quinine in my bag," Frank said quickly.

"Good, good. We're running low. You can start treating this row here. While you work, you tell us how you were caught and where you're from. Then we'll tell you about camp. It gets pretty boring here."

Frank deftly opened his bag and began work, relating his story as he walked through rows of cots, introducing himself and inspecting wounds.

"So, you and Nancy came in with that Thomas fellow?"

"Yes, how is he?" Frank demanded instantly.

"Well, you know how it goes. They'll have roughed him up a bit and tied him to that big tree. See, he's there now. No food or water till he caves and signs, which is usually in two days."

Another put in, "You'll get used to camp life, soon enough. The work's pretty hard. The other soldiers build bricks, then use the bricks to make buildings, and wash laundry for the Japanese officers. Some dig ditches and make roads throughout this archipelago, others repair vehicles or clean toilets. They wake us as soon as it's light, and we treat injured and ill. There's a lot of sickness."

"Jungle fever and malaria," Mac added. "Their biggest weapon for keeping us all under control is fear. During roll they drag a random one of us off and rough 'em up, for no reason. No resting during work hours, even if you're just sitting down. They make us run laps around the camp for hours. And don't wander to the outhouse. They'll fire at anyone out after dark."

Frank's head spun. So many rules and things that could go wrong!

"What is this roughing up you keep talking about?" Nancy asked.

"Usually they whip us once or twice, or slap you. It's not as bad as a punishment for breaking one of the rules, or that horrid solitary confinement."

"Oh, God. That's the worst," a patient put in. "They come in twice a day and beat the $#*\ outta you. You get no food, and stale, murky water."

"If you're caught trying to," a furtive glance,"escape, they'll make an example out of you by torturing you till you're nearly killed, right in front of everyone. Same with if you break a lot of rules."

Nancy looked at Frank. For the first time, she was truly worried. This was not a prison so much as it was a hellhole. Even prisons in the States at least had beds, and proper medical care, and prisoners were not beaten nearly to death. She and Frank had survived D-day and numerous battles, only to die in a reeking, infested, overcrowded prison camp,?