Was scheduled this morning for a hop to Johnston Island tomorrow — two planes on a week or so’s advance-base operations. I’m in command of the flight. We’re toting 10 or 12 passengers, mail, vegetables, beer, and a $35,000 pay roll. Have a hunch I’ll be damn glad to see this place when I get back — by the grace of God and the Mikado.
Dropped into town for a couple hours this afternoon and resent that cable to Pan Am — if it doesn’t go this time, there’s going to be one “pissed off” Lieutenant around here when I get back.
Stopped off and said goodbye to Patu and to Marion.
Heard tonight from my old friend Quigley, that Mazza was not killed in the Coral Sea, but that he is in New Caledonia instructing the Army in torpedo work. Quigley himself was stranded on a small island near New Guinea during the Coral Sea fight (his SPD was shot up) and stayed there long enough to contact malaria.