Thanks for the `heads up` Hj Publisher. It`s appreciated.

Let`s continue then with a little reporting from Tacloban.

Some of you know I`m interested in military history and have roamed a few battlefields - here and there.

We went to the site of the Leyte landings - to the monument of Mc Arthur walking out of the sea at Palo, to re- take the Philippines. There was a hotel and restaurant here and several times in past years I have had a cold beer there, looking out to sea and contemplating the sacrifice of those times.

To our shock the Hotel was gone and all materials removed.

It only took a second or two to realize why. The vets were largely gone and as I surveyed the open scene I opened a textbook in my minds eye and had a juxtaposition of perspective. Demographically life diminishes almost exponentially after the late 80`s. I remember a graph - after 89 it`s like falling off a cliff.

The hotel had served it`s purpose and the breeze laden with tropical heat and salt came in off the Pacific Ocean to coconut palms and the odd street vendor - then blew into the foothills that ran with blood and tears a lifetime ago.

Out to the East is Iwo Jima and I have been reflecting for some time on a desire to visit and climb mount Suribatchi. Althogh I had concluded that Japan only flies relatives of the war dead and that it`s seen as a war grave and that perhaps culture precludes those interested in military history doing field visits.

It was with these thoughts in mind that i was surprised to encounter a Japanese male of around 70yrs in Mc Donalds (which is an expats meeting place) He held Philippine citizenship and produced his nationality card and some leather pouches and camera gear, without being asked.

He looked younger, but had a black wig that looked like a fur hat - he lifted it - just like a hat and revealed a counternance that seemed the spitting image of a certain gentleman residing in exile in India.

Something about him though, a certain `roughness` of appearance, in the finer, almost vernier scale of whiskers and the odd frayed thread in his clothing that betrayed to these old experienced eyes - the expat of a country with leather pouches and camera gear intended to give a picture of wealth.

I never did broach the Mt Suribachi issue. He was to young at 70yrs anyway and we left after finishing our coffee before the (inevitable) request came for our interest in `investment` or similar.

It`s surprising but reasuring how time moves on and perhaps that`s a good thing to reflect on too. "Only so long to suffer" as we used to say at school and there are not many people left in the local area that retain memories of the invasion and it`s aftermath.