July 24, 1942 (Friday)

Pearl Harbor

Day off. Stayed in bed all morning and read Antoine de Saint-Exupery’s “Flight to Arras” — a magnificent book with a message for all mankind, and a very fitting sequel to “Wind, Sand and Stars.” Part of the spirit of the book is expressed by the quotation of John Donne’s, for which Hemingway took the phrase “For Whom the Bell Tolls.” I cannot remember the quotation exactly, but the general idea is something like this; “You ask for whom the bell tolls? The tolls for you. Every death is a loss on to you yourself. You are in the tapestry that is humanity, and every loss thereto, is a loss unto your own beauty and enrichment.”

Met Patu in town late in the afternoon and took her to dinner at the Halekulani. Her grandmother ate dinner with us — as spry as ever.

Leaving the Halekulani I noticed a familiar face on the street — it was Don Holman, whom I haven’t seen since I left Pensacola. He’s working for Pan American. Asked me about some of our mutual late friends. He gave me a bit of information in which I was most interested. Pan American, only a few days ago, received permission from the Navy to take ten patrol plane pilots with over 1000 hours for permanent duty with Pan Am in the Pacific — starting as first pilots at $400 per month. He advised me to send an application by wire immediately to a Capt. Burroughs. I’ll do it. Can’t let an opportunity like that slip by, despite my bloodthirsty inclinations towards the Japs. This “do-nothing” business around here also bores me. The world in flames, the Army in need of pilots for it’s latest big ships, and here we sit, hundreds of us, waiting around to fly a stinking PBY once or twice a week. I don’t like to do things “half-assed.” Either do it right or don’t do it at all. I want to be in the thick of this mess, or not in it at all, I detest this hanging around the edges. However, nothing may come of an application.

Stayed overnight at Patu’s up in the Nuuanu Valley — beautiful in the moonlight.

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