Entry 1

The Summer Session is in full swing. It was put in place only to speed up our education, a “crash course” in a way, so that a new batch of young men in the senior class can graduate to be sent out to fight on the front lines of Europe and the Pacific as soon as possible. But for us Upper-Middlers, thoughts of the war are on the back burner, and the possibility of being drafted is still far from being a cause for concern. I consider myself lucky for being an Upper-Middler, because not having to worry about actual involvement in the war—for the foreseeable future, at least—gives me the luxury to focus on my studies, rather than be subjected to the intensive physical hardening programs and first-aid training courses forced upon the seniors to prepare them for combat. But I’m also grateful to have Finny as a friend, to give me an occasional and much-needed distraction from schoolwork. Today we went to the river and stayed out until past dinner time. Finny had somehow talked me into jumping from the enormous tree into the river below. “When they torpedo the troopship, you can’t stand there admiring the view! Jump!” he shouted. I later denied his accusation that I allowed myself to be shamed into it, though I knew it was true. “Oh yes I did. I’m good for you that way. You have a tendency to back away from things otherwise.” Sometimes Finny makes me wonder whether he can read me like a book, or if he really knows me inside and out, like a true friend does. I guess I might never know for sure.

Left: Finny jumping out of the tree into the Devon River.

Right: The crew (From left to right): Me, Bobby Zane, Finny, Elwin 'Leper' Lepellier, and Chet Douglass.