Barbers Point NAS

Out to the squadron at the crack of dawn. Ate breakfast with Thomas at the R.R. station.

Calibrated compasses and tested radar and ZB equipment. Got 50 miles off the island (limit – 2 miles), zoomed a destroyer and damn near knocked down a couple of the squadron shacks by zooming them. The skipper got a little bit mad, but didn’t say anything to me when I landed. Uncontrolled exuberance.

Crap games and roulette going all afternoon (payday this morning). Oliver is wandering around this evening, well plastered, and, as yet (2410), unpacked, despite the fact he is leaving tomorrow morning at 0930 for down under and is chief navigator for the flight.

Jeeter Hare just wandered in to say good night. (He’s also well plastered.) Says the new motto of his outfit (PATSU-1-2) is, “Fight the fucking war with the typewriters.”

VP-51 is becoming quite a famous squadron, both for its drinking and its achievements. It’s now pretty well-known all over the Pacific. Its members have fought in Alaska, Midway, and the Solomons, and have dragged down a bushel of medals.

This is just about the last entry in this diary. Am shifting diaries (#IV) tomorrow, mostly for the sake of lessening their value to the enemy in case of capture. Started this one in preparation for my last intended trip down under. Hope that there will be no mishaps this time.

I’m sending one very fine Ash chest home (Gram’s) full of junk (records and books plus miscellaneous material for my collections). The smaller blue chest I am leaving over at Central Stores in anticipation of returning.

Picked up a very fine little booklet today called “A Castaway’s Baedeker to the South Seas.” Contains very valuable dope on how to live on nothing on a South Sea island.