Jan. 14, 1942 (Wednesday)

Brisbane, Australia

After leaving the dance last night I went to the Lennon’s Hotel (VERY snappy), while Riley got himself hooked by some goon (he’s too easily persuaded). Had a good rest. Called the ship and found that sailing  (hah) was postponed, (?). We went out to the ship to shave and clean up after breakfast. Amazingly, all the planes were unloaded.

Called Joan, and asked her to lunch. She’s the only girl I’ve been attracted to since I’ve been here, although I will say the town is full of pretty girls. They all seem to have remarkably beautiful skin, and rather poor teeth — not really bad, but not good. Seems to be the water.

Have heard the rumor to the effect that our ship is officially reported lost with all hands back in the States. Wired home that I was O.K.

These Australians are all damn fine fellows (although we haven’t been handsomely treated as we were in Wellington). They have the greatest regard for the U.S. — in most cases more than for England, whom they regarded as having given them a dirty deal — by leaving them defenseless and burning up their manpower in Libya.