Nouméa, New Caledonia

A dentist across the aisle, recovering from an appendectomy, spent the night trying to gas all of us. He damn near succeeded, for which we all ribbed him unmercifully this morning.

Saw D. at noon. That mop of red hair is beautiful. Asked her over to see the evening movie. However a practice blackout fouled our meeting up until it was too late to make the show. Walked down the beach only to become involved in the search for an escaped psychopathic patient.

Decided that if we both feel as we do now when I get back to the states, I shall write for D. to come up there. There’s no mistake here, I’m sure. She’s got the long-sought-for combination of beauty, brains, and personality.

Sixty barrage balloons up during the practice this evening.