Sunday, December 14, 1941
Dear Diary,

Then comes out a notice, there will be firing here or there. So if it is close we take down our medicine bottles, ”˜cause when those guns go off, oh boy. I am now working on the men”™s ward at Leahi Home just across the street from Fort Ruger. The only thing here to take the monotony off our minds is a new addition of the radio on at all times. We have music now, for a while there was nothing, only orders. Funny how the intensity goes off and how smoothly things run when music is about and everyone isn”™t going down everyone”™s throat. Then there is the smell of paint, guys that means blackout. Then the guard on top of the building walk, walk, walk. I feel for him up there in this darn hot

sun and tropical rain and heat, but he never complains, seems happy about it all. I have fun watching the boys put up wire around the Fort across the street. They have fun watching us too, always they holler over and say, “Why don”™t you take off the mask so we can see your face?” but we wear the darn things ”˜cause ole eagle eye (our supervisor) don”™t like them down. She has tuberculosis phobia. Why don”™t people that are afraid of TB and things get of the business? Oh well, so goes life and its hazards. The boys are busy carrying their guns and such, a rather cute job. One boy seems more concerned over one little struggling tree that wants to die, but he faithfully bathes it in Oahu liquids every day.