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U.S. Naval Air Station
Squantum, Mass

Dear Folks,

Wish I could have made Dave Lewis’ wedding or home, or preferably both. I didn’t quite get out in time for the former, and the latter would hardly have been worthwhile on a lousy day especially since I had to be back by 8 A.M. Sunday. The student mate of the deck or S.M.D. wears a distinguishing arm band and does such things as recording names of fellows coming “on board” or “going ashore,” answering [the] phone, reporting to Post 2 that the barracks are “secure”, every hour. He has an assistant to take his place while he's eating, etc., and at 10 P.M. is replaced by the first of four men taking night watches. The next day he is responsible for getting the guys out on time, not being replaced by the new S.M.D. until 8 A.M.

The games in Princeton and Groton seem to have been satisfactory. I was seeing a naval movie, “Dive Bomber,” or what I may get myself in for! Late I called the Lowells and then went, alone, to the new Fred Astaire movie. His partner Rita Hayworth, was here on Friday, when I was not, but in the movie was lucious [sic].

By now I’ve had 8¼ hours. On Friday, after being shown how to do it, I put the plane in a spin, starting with a stall, and got it out again. It’s easy — stick even further forward and suddenly, following opposite rudder, which results in a glide (engine throttled down hence not a dive). For the hell of it my instructor did loops and rolls. Solo soon if at all.

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