March 4th. The morning broke badly.  I lashed my hand to my hammock and was forced to call on the P.O. to extricate me.  He remarked, with ill-disguised bitterness, that I could think of more ineffectual things to do than any rookie it had been his misfortune to meet.  I told him that I didn’t have to think of them, they just came naturally.

Last night I was nearly frightened out of my hammock by awakening and gazing into the malevolent eye of my high-powered, twin-six wrist watch.  I thought for a moment that the Woolworth tower had crawled into bed with me.  It gave me such a start.  I must get used to my wrist watch—­also wearing a handkerchief up my sleeve.  I feel like the sweet kid himself now.

Drill all day.  My belt fell off and tripped me up.  Why do such things always happen to me?  Somebody told us to do squads left and it looked as if we were playing Ring Around Rosie.  Then we performed a fiendish and complicated little quadrille called a “company square.”  I found myself, much to my horror, on the inside of the contraption walking directly behind the company commander.  It was a very delicate situation for a while.  I walked on my tip-toes so that he wouldn’t hear me.  Had he looked around I know I’d have dropped my gun and lit out for home and mother.

Forgot to take my hat off in the mess room.  I was reminded, though, by several hundred thoughtful people.

March 5th. Stood for half an hour in the mail line.  Got one letter.  A bill from a restaurant for eighteen dollars’ worth of past luncheons.  I haven’t the heart to write more.

[Illustration:  “A BILL FROM A RESTAURANT FOR $18.00 WORTH OF PAST LUNCHEONS”]

March 6th. Bag inspection.  I almost put my eye out at right hand salute.  However, my bag looked very cute indeed, and although he didn’t say anything, I feel sure the inspecting officer thought mine was the best.  I had a beautiful embroidered handkerchief holder, prominently displayed, which I am sure must have knocked him cold.  He missed the dirty white, but I will never be the same.

[Illustration:  “HE MISSED THE DIRTY WHITES, BUT I WILL NEVER BE THE SAME”]

Fire drill!  My hammock came unlashed right in front of a C.P.O. and he asked me if I was going to sleep in it on the spot.  It was a very inspiring scene.  Particularly thrilling was the picture I caught of a very heavy sailor picking on a poor innocent looking little fire extinguisher.  He ran the thing right over my foot.  I apologized, as usual.  I discovered that I have been putting half instead of marlin hitches in my hammock, but not before the inspecting officer did.  He seemed very upset about it.  When he asked me why I only put six hitches in my hammock instead of seven, I replied that my rope was short.  His reply still burns in my memory.  What eloquence!  What earnestness!  What a day!

[Illustration:  “FIRE DRILL”]

March 7th. Second jab to-morrow.  I am too nervous to write to-day.  More anon.