Pearl Harbor

Started off with a riotous morning. Everything possible went wrong. I missed connections with four pilots on the 5:30 a.m. “pick up.” Another pair’s alarm clock didn’t go off, and unluckily each was a PPC for a plane. The engines wouldn’t start on one, so we change to another  — and the engines wouldn’t start on that either, so we change them to a third, which, however, they had to wait for, as it was insufficiently gassed. About the time we got them launched, one came back with engine trouble. Finally found a plane for them and got everybody off.

I certainly like the squadron. A damn fine bunch of fellows. What a difference in the morale of this outfit and Erdmann’s surly whip-driven bunch.

Went out on a test radar hop this afternoon. Got my first opportunity to use, what I would consider, the greatest invention of the Second World War (to date). It is rather difficult to become proficient with, although they say that operators will have plenty of experience can almost perform miracles with it. The only thing I dislike about it is is that it is very hard on the eyes, especially for any length of time.

A real blackout tonight (I wrote that sentence by matchlight.) It seems as though someone’s anchor fouled the power cable running along the harbor bottom to this island. So tonight, there isn’t a light on the island, outside of electric lights and candles. Also no hot water. And no hot food — except for a little barbecued meat. Damned annoying! Can’t see to shave, or, write letters. The heads are so damn black it’s like taking your life in your hands when you go into them — you also risk a wet shoe!

As I lay in bed on the porch, I could see the inky skies crisscrossed by long searching fingers of light, and it brought me back to three years ago  — June it was, and John and I were on the desk of the Kronprine Willem as she pushed her way up the crowded Thames to London. And that night sky was patterned by the same bright, weaving beams — even to the tiny moth of a plane, gleaming and twisting in a trap of lights. Little did any of us realize how close to the horrible chasm of death and distraction the whole civilized world was; how in less than 100 days, the whole world would be plunged into the Second World War — the greatest and most destructive in all history. We were some of the last few Americans to see the OLD London. What will the “new” be like?