16 February, 1956

At one thirty this morning, I was awakened by a flickering light. It was Andy & Nick, who said "We brung ya sum’m" & plopped onto my bed one pepper shaker, four matched glasses (two large & two small), three rolls, & an orange ("Thought you might be hungry"). Andy recanted & took one of the rolls back "For Dickie-Poo" (North). I thanked them profusely, & they staggered off to bed.

About a week ago, the Captain spoke over the loudspeaker about our outrageous shore-patrol record, & concluded with "let’s make our stay at Naples one without a single bad report." Out of the five report chits handed out last night, four were from S-2 Division.

So today the ax fell. The Captain spoke again—this time not so cajoling, with the warning that from this moment on, Gestapo techniques by the Shore Patrol would not only be condoned, but encouraged. Every night twenty officers & thirty petty-officers without Shore Patrol brossards, would patrol the city & send anyone they thought might get into trouble back to the ship. If this does not work, we will avoid liberty troubles by curtailing liberty.

And knowing the dear old Ti as I do, we are very likely to sit out the rest of our cruise. My loathing for the Navy has not abated in the least.

Perhaps, just to get out & walk around, I might go over this Saturday, but I doubt it very much. It all depends on the weather, & how I feel (mood, not physically). I’ve had one of those annoying "snort" type colds for several weeks now—slowly driving me nuts.

Time out for a cup of chicken soup—it looks hideous but tastes very good. Fresh milk coming aboard tomorrow—the Navy has a farm it maintains by U.S. Government standards for the Naval Air Station & some of the 10,000 Americans in & around Naples.

An hour & a half & one chicken breast later, it is now after taps, & I’d better get into the rack. Had a most realistic dream (in Technicolor) of the Ti sinking—I was just ready to jump off when I woke up. Maybe I can continue it tonite. We shall soon see….