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78

Washington, D.C.
Tuesday, Aug. 11, 1942.

^[[ (]]My efficiency this morning was rather low and as usual I kicked myself for getting involved again with Heath, Hogrett, Beatty, Flanningan & Co. last night. That can't happen often - nothing wrong done but too much scotch (not even dizzy though) too many cigarettes and too little sleep.^[[ )]]
[[red vertical line at start of line]]Conferred with Mr. Langan of [[circled, underlined]]W[[/circled, underlined]] today regarding their Chilean locomotives, unapproved because the requirements committee won't let Baldwin have 75 tons of steel to finish them. And they are needed to expand the capacity of the Chilean State Lines to handle increased copper production! The substation equipment has gone - it does seem silly. Someone hasn't got the proper story to the proper people. Talked with my old friend Tom Wentz regarding [[circled, underlined]]W[[/circled, underlined]] schedules etc. over phone -- he said, when I told him I am on WPB now - "My God!" ^[[red vertical line]] ^[[ (]]Talked on phone to Tom Evans to tell him of some more business coming his way for steam engines - and he is swamped now^[[ )]].
Wrote more letters - this time dictated to ^[[underline]]Dorothy Fairbank[[/underline]] -- poor kid is willing but a terrible stenographer -- I had to practically do two of them over again. Maybe she was nervous over taking her first letters from me and will do better next time.
^[[underline]]Joe got back today[[/underline]] -- he brightens the place up immensely -- and he, Marshall and Van and I tried another drug store for lunch -- pretty terrible but we had fun. Joe was razzing me and Van over planning to go to the opera tomorrow night --
San Carlo at the Watergate - Joe simply snorted at the thought of his going and chanted "Dominick, Dominick. You Come into my Yard."