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had happened and he said, "Okay, if thats the way they want to do it, it's all right with me. We don't want to get into this picture if we cant add anything to it." Now that I think it over, Whitey's reaction and mine this morning weren't far different. I told Whitey I felt the tank job was one where we definitely could be of use coordinating electrical and mechanical portions. Whitey disappeared for 10 minutes and when he came back he said for me to go on to Washington as I had planned. He had talked to Chet Lang who said the DCC was screwy and suffering from "vice-presidentitis" and he felt we should be in the picture. So we taxied over to Penna. Station together leaving Whitey to retire and got aboard the Washington sleeper. St.L. and I had a compartment together and he allowed he needed a little drink before retiring so we wandered over thru the catacombs to the New Yorker and had a bottle of Black House ale which St.L. insisted on referring to as "Black Dog" ale and claimed it made him tight - one pint. We went back then and retired. It was a day full of lessons for me - one I shan't forget I hope.

En route Washington to Erie
Thursday, July 11, 1940.

I had a good night's sleep and failed to hear St.L. up in the night to evacuate on the toilet sitting in the middle of the compartment disguised by a plush cover. St.L. was unable to find the paper so had to make a trip to the public room at the opposite end of the car and bring back a long strand some of which was still draped around this morning.