p26  June 6, 1941 . . . .

Monday. The Gym department, evidently horrified by the fact that the greater part of our class is still alive, is making a last effort. Their excuse is that we are preparing for the June Week exhibitions but the only people who would enjoy such exhibitions have long eyeteeth and hunched backs and are frowned on by polite society. We are on swimming, and I was cursing my fate until I saw them carrying an especially untidy remnant from the main gym room. Now I only curse it in an undertone. Since I have been here I have acquired a great ability to recognize lesser evils.

Tuesday. We have been mapping Trophy Point in surveying, an interesting but scarcely useful occupation. It would be an easily confused person who could not find his way through the wilds of Trophy Point. My other wife has everything in easy pacing distance well mapped, but has marked everything else "Terra Incognita", a device I do not think will succeed. We did attend drill and parade today. And all the devils in 'ell laughed merrily.

Wednesday. The writs are too much with us these days. My other wife returns from the writ room looking a little more stunned every day. Now he looks as if he were three days dead. My sane wife is aging visibly. He also looks three days dead but as if he had died after a long and misspent life.

Thursday. We told my other wife about recognition today. He laughed heartily and said that was the best ever and he would certainly tell it at parade. When the facts finally penetrate that soggy mass of nerve endings that serves him as a brain he is going to be a happy little cadet.

Friday. Surveying has gone to my other wife's head. Today when ordered to do a right turn, he wanted to know what azimuth.

Saturday. The first results of the writs came up today. The Math department has a slight edge on the English department, but there seems to be a fine, clean, competitive feeling between the two. The English professors greet Math professors with gay calls of "wait until you see what this one does" and "Bet we gain thirty on you today, we've got a honey" and so on. They are just like happy children. Although some of the children I know are happiest when pulling wings off flies.

Sunday. My sane wife very happy. It seems that now there are just as many days until Recognition as he has B‑plates. He says that at last it seems real to him. Hoch der Tag.

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