I remembered books and movies. The books were reread and the movies were rerun, over and over again, from start to finish. “An American In Paris” with Gene Kelly and Leslie Caron had many reruns, and John Wayne played more than a few times. “They Were Expendable” was one of John's films I had enjoyed, though it was about PT boats rather than planes. “Flying Leathernecks” got some play, too. Of course, it did have the airplanes.

Alabama, Arizona, Arkansas, etc, — I went through that list dozens of times.

Now what?

It's spring. The window is open. Look at the trees and those other things out there! What can I see through my window?

I couldn't write the poetry so I had to commit it to memory, which was mentally therapeutic. But after my fingers healed, I blundered into another supplemental form of amusement which proved to be physical as well as mental therapy. I didn't consciously intend this, it just developed from my attempts to occupy my time.

I was given a toothbrush and some Chang Bai (White Mountain) toothpaste. The tube was packaged in the traditional box. The box I saved. While thinking about how to use the box, I decided it resembeled a model railroad box car. Thus was born the Antung Model Railroad.

I searched the survival kit which was under my bed and found the needle. Thread I pulled from my bandages. Using these, I sewed the various parts together as I fabricated them. There was a pair of small scissors in the kit with which I cut the cardboard. Over a period of time I was able to acquire two or three boxes, so the rolling stock finally consisted of engine, tender and one box car.

My train didn't draw raves, but the hospital personnel did exhibit, at least, a modicum of interest. Encouraged by the results, I took on a more ambitious project — a tiny violin. Why a violin? I'll never be able to explain. I certainly never had a musical interest in that instrument. Maybe I felt it to be a cultural adventure. I had been a drummer.

The challenge here was to shape the body of the instrument to include the bulge in the surface. I accomplished this by soaking the pre-cut cardboard with my drinking water and shaping it as it dried. The strings again were purloined from my bandages. It's fortunate I hadn't space to create a large project, or I might have completely undressed my wounds.

To me, I had in the violin, another rousing success, but it brought only mild reviews. The girls were more enthusiastic than the boys.

In retrospect, I find it interesting that I didn't construct an airplane. I had flown some small planes, but, by far, the major portion of my experience had been with military aircraft. Was my subconscious trying to “forget” items with a military connotation, keeping them from the probing tentacles of the interrogators who were still conducting pop quizzes from time to time.