October 1st, 1934:

Dear Diary – what a small world this turns out to be ! Today being Sunday, we scatter to the various churches across the Islands. Quite a trip, with Maria and 5 of her co-religionists (including Miss Devinski) heading out early to South Island. It seems that most of the European missions are on Casino Island, for the tourists – so ten of us pile into a water taxi to the Anglican church there. (Helen and Molly, to use their curious turn of phrase, “don’t hold with no preachers”, so they are spending the day hard at work painting one of the classrooms, cleanliness being presumably next best thing to godliness).
      Anyway – all the way from Barsetshire, who should I find giving the sermon but the Reverend Bingham, who substituted last Easter down in Puddleham when old Rev. Pontephright had that accident with the circus lion. I recognised him at once, though I fear he didn’t recognise me. (Note – I must describe him to Helen, who I am sure would be Interested. Theology can come later)
 On the way out, we encountered a similar-looking group to our own, heading towards the next jetty. It turns out they are from the Other establishment, Spontoon Technical High School on Moon Island. Various words were passed, though I tried to explain that we are a select establishment for the “air-Minded”, and not “Air-headed” as they insisted…
       Despite being October, the weather continues warm, like a decent English August, should there be such a thing. Our uniforms, though very respectable for Church, are sweltering! I must find out how the senior years at the Academy manage to not wear them in class.

October 4th, 1934: 

Dear Diary – there has been nothing to tell you except three days of solid work in the engine sheds. But now at last we are to look around the rest of Eastern Island – Helen has been fuming with what she calls “cabin Fever”, and indeed all of us could do with some respite from getting our fur soaked in engine oil. (The old engines we are practising with, still use Castor oil which is having a most alarming effect on our digestions, though we are assured we will become accustomed to it.)  Certainly the morning’s exercise was different, if equally noisy ! Miss Blande, one of the part-time Instructors, had booked us into the firing range owned by the local militia. I had handled my Brother’s rook rifle before, but this was a definitely different experience. 
     I fear I shall have to have words with Molly, who dropped our group’s score down severely by her behaviour. She succeeded in hitting the targets, but blazing away on fully automatic while laughing maniacally, is really not the done thing at the Academy. Molly went off in something of a huff, claiming she was taught better by her Father’s employee, a Mr.“Thompson” Thompson of Detroit.
      Miss Blande explains that graduates of Songmark may find themselves having to cope in any sticky situation, and are expected to do so without assistance and with style. Even in a matter of self-defence, such as today’s training. I did however notice some of our Third Year students, wearing uniforms I’m sure they’re not entitled to, returning from the rifle range carrying what I recognise as Lee-Enfields. Presumably there is an advanced class covering self-defence at half-mile ranges, of which I must enquire later.

 (Things to remember, Dear Diary – the more impressive pieces of ordnance are less actually useful, unless one has a physique like our local vicar Mr.Bingham. The .30 Beretta that Maria seems quite familiar with, seems to be quite controllable enough. The .45 almost knocked me flying, and nobody except Missy Kahaloa even wanted to try the .57 Webley & Scott. Our “matron” assures her that the sprained wrist should be useable by the end of the week.)

October 6th, 1934

A most unusual day ! As usual, after Breakfast our rooms were inspected by Miss Devinski, who tends to be scathing about shoddy housekeeping (I have had to give Maria some tips, the poor girl has never had to fold a sheet in her life before arriving here. Hurrah for St.Winifreds Home Economics classes !). All us First-years were taken over to view the dormitory across the road, where the Senior year live, and where I had noticed local workmen gathered. 
      Miss Windlesham, who is in charge (one would like to say, in control) of that class, then took us to the far end of the building, where the student kitchen has a large refrigerator. Pushing it aside, we were startled to see a wood-lined tunnel, ducking under the wall and presumably heading towards the thickets behind the buildings !
       Miss Windlesham invited us to explore the tunnel, to take careful note of its construction, before the workmen filled it in. This, she explains, the previous year of students must have constructed for their own uses, whatever those may have been. We are to produce an essay by next week, giving our ideas on how it might have been done, and how long it would have taken. (It is most odd, how little annoyed the staff seem to be about this. Indeed, Miss Devinski was quite enthusiastic about the construction, suggesting that anyone who puts such thought and teamwork into a construction should benefit by it. Helen and Molly seemed quite amused by the whole thing, though I’m sure I can’t see the point in the project. The building has doors enough already, quite visible from the building we share with the staff.)

October 8th, 1934

     A splendid day indeed, brilliant sunshine as I persuade Helen to come to Church with me ! At least, she seems to think it the lesser evil, after last weeks painting (and indeed, both she and Molly fairly reeked of paint fumes half the week) to take the water taxi over to Casino Island. Definitely we look forward to being given Passes to leave Songmark like the senior classes, rather than being escorted there and back. A full-day pass to Casino Island is something to dream of, indeed (and Helen seemed to be dreaming of something in church, though I doubt the sermon made much impression on her.)
      I plucked up courage to ask Ethyl, one of the final year girls, about when we might move onto Passes. The news is not encouraging – even after passing various courses, we are going to have to win them, like our gramophone (and everything else at Songmark, it seems.) Certainly, we should be out of our blazers and into more comfortable costume by the end of term, in time for the rainy season. 
      Helen did ask about the “24-hour pass” she had heard rumoured of, but they seem to be like the fabled hundred-pound notes – in theory they may exist, but nobody we know has one, and the prospect of owning one seems utterly remote. 

October 10th, 1934

Off again to the local militia's firing range, for some more self-defence instruction. A vexingly thorough course, taking through dismantling all parts of a firearm before cleaning and reassembling them. At least, as with our aeronautics work, we should be competent to keep any self-defence equipment in good order in the field, far from convenient workshops.
      After a morning getting our fur reeking of grease, we head out to the rifle range for the first time.  I can certainly appreciate how this could be useful, in hunting for food - but it is certainly something one needs to practice.  My first few shots, alas, could probably have hit the proverbial barn door, but little else.
      An interesting local prejudice on good luck charms - Maria pulls out a lucky rabbit foot, which causes a few smiles amongst the instructors but nothing more.  Molly, on the other hand, went to great care to file deep crosses in her bullet tips for luck (she says), and was marched away for a Very stern lecture for five minutes.  Fascinating!
      Molly has been told she will be restricted to the pistol range for the next few weeks, which irritates her no end, especially given the available handguns. She quotes her old mentor, Mr. "Thompson" Thompson, as saying "Two things in life you can't rely on - an automatic pistol and a D.A's Promise".
      I will either have to puzzle the meaning of that one out of her, or drop it into my scrapbook, "Collected Strange Sayings of Molly, Volume One". Volume two will be well underway by next term, at this rate.

October 11th, 1934

Quite a sight today, watching a large airship stopping here on Eastern Island. The Senior years here had mentioned news of its arrival, and at lunchtime we managed to get away long enough to watch it docking with the airship tower at the South end of the island.  Madelene X might do well to listen to advice in future, she was standing directly underneath it on final approach, just where I told her it might drop water ballast.
      Watching the airship (the big German zeppelin, called the "Ludendorf" I believe) reminded me of my Uncle Algernon, who had been in the Balloon Corps throughout the Great War. After a few years of crewing observation blimps and other uninspiring duties, he volunteered for the experimental Dirigible Fighter squadron being formed. Their rather powerful engines were cooled by passing the hydrogen around the radiators before returning to the gas bags (nothing gives better lift than hot hydrogen, and the fighters were launched from their carrier ships at 15 tonnes buoyancy, enabling them to climb at an ear-popping 6,000 feet a minute to intercept).  Sadly, Uncle Algernon and the project fell from grace and about 25,000 feet when a gas seep ignited. Nothing gets out easier than hot hydrogen, either - though Molly disputes this, saying that a Songmark Third-year after curfew "beats it hollow that-a-way".
      Definitely another Strange Saying for the scrapbook.
 

October 19th, 1934

At long last, we get to sit in an aircraft ! Not a flying one I confess, but an aircraft nonetheless. It appears that the hangar next to the airfield is only rented, and we are moving to a larger one – taking great care of moving the Academy’s aircraft, now we have spent such efforts in knowing how to fix them.
      After lunch, I fear I made a poor showing in class with Herr Bussemann. We were invited to talk on aircraft we knew best, and he was most scathing about my dear little Flying Fleas. I did my best to defend them, but he seems quite adamant that the design is fatally flawed – and my pointing out that far more expensive planes crash just as hard, cut no ice with him (as Molly would say). Apart from having no lateral control and a tendency towards the picturesquely named “Graveyard Dive”, I think my plywood and piano-wire constructions flew quite well, sometimes for days. (Had I managed to find proper aircraft-grade bolts to secure the engine on #4 instead of using those left over from the barn door repairs, it might easily have lived to make a dozen flights).
      And now I am to write a twenty-page essay on “Why there is no future in unstable, control by wire designs.” Alas! 

October 22nd, 1934

A day indeed of two halves, Dear Diary. A wet and cheerless water-taxi to church on Casino Island, which seems to be half shuttered-up, full of workmen renovating the buildings before the Rainy Season arrives. I had thought to talk with our senior Ethyl, but it turned out to be her bad-tempered identical twin Methyl (“Pure Poison” as many folk tell me, and certainly very volatile.). I wonder if their Father is a chemist ?
     Well ! Things improved when Maria returned from her Church with momentous news indeed. We are to compete again for our gramophone at the end of the month, against quite furious competition from the dorms led by Missy Kahaloa, Prudence Akroyd, Jasbir Sind and Madelene X. We four intend to have a jolly good try at keeping it, but Maria thought it prudent to get some more records in while we can. Suprisingly, there is a radio and record shop on South Island open on Sunday – and while purchasing the latest offering by “V-Gerat” she noticed a poster announcing their Pacific tour arrives here next month ! 

      The latest album is playing loudly and boldly, while Madelene X is banging protestingly on the door shouting impolite things about our tastes, and Molly is responding with suggestions about her ancestry that I will not be recording. (Madelene’s actual name is presumably known to our tutors, but she is not telling it to anyone else. Hence her “nom de guerre” amongst us.)
      Maria recounted rather wistfully that she had seen V-Gerat perform once, when travelling in Germany with her Uncle’s retinue. The band do look excessively Modern, and according to Maria, are all staunch Party members. I cannot see what Madelene X, Ada Cronstein and some of the others object to about that, I love a good party myself. 
      No more time to write tonight, dear Diary, we are all “cramming” hard for next week’s Air Navigation exams. I am doing my best with Helen, who has learned to fly entirely “by the seat of my pants”, as she puts it. If that were the best technique, Missy Kahaloa would win every time, according to her pants size. Molly claims she must have been sent to wear the Songmark uniform (being the only actual “Spontoonie” here) because the sight of her in a grass skirt would scare tourists away! Which is unkind, but Missy K. does claim to be worth any two of us, and her dressmaker certainly needs twice the material. 

October 24th, 1934

Alas! Right now we are sitting looking disconsolately at a pile of “V-Gerat” discs, while the gramophone is playing an endless stream of Rudy Vallee from two doors down the hall, as Jasbir Sind and her dorm celebrate loudly. Some people have no concern for their neighbours.
      I would have wagered we stood a very fair chance in the Air Navigation exams – Missy Kahaloa admitted as much to us, confessing she had been too hard on our bunch. As an olive branch, she bought us all a large bottle of a local soft drink, which we were very grateful for. (Molly sampled hers with great care, not letting us drink till she had assayed it was quite non-alcoholic. I suppose a family in the Trade, so to speak, would recognise it.)
      I fear the local beverage will take some getting used to – our test results were awful, Maria breaking down in a fit of giggling, while I managed to “navigate” on paper half way to Japan before my fuel ran out entirely. I really can’t think what went wrong with our concentration, all four of us at once. Still, there was the consolation that Jasbir is a good sport and has promised to loan us the gramophone on Tuesdays in exchange for borrowing our records – while this “Nootnops Blue” Missy Kahaloa introduced us to is really quite a find !

October 26th, 1934

This may be the last entry for awhile – I am writing while “kitted up” in flying overalls, with nothing else than one might expect to have in a cockpit. No, not the long-promised first flight, but our long-threatened “safari” on the main island, thrown on our own resources. Maria is stuffing herself with the last of my tinned fruitcake from Home, expecting a distinctly lean time in the week ahead.
 This promises to be a most trying time ! Of course, we shall be no more than a mile or two from habitation, even the Main Island here is hardly bigger than a good-sized parish in Barsetshire. But we will lose marks Quite severely for asking assistance from the Natives, who (I assume) have been warned we are coming.
      Helen cheered up considerably when we were issued with firearms – until told there would be no ammunition provided, as hunting the local wildlife is quite taboo (fish, crabs etc. excepted). And yet our sidearms are going to be searchingly inspected at the end of the trip, and woe betide us if they are out of order ! I can only be glad that I paid attention to my Father’s military tales, and am packing several small oilskin bags for delicate items. The Rainy Season is fast approaching, and we shall probably be “in for it”.

November 4th , 1934

Dear Diary – It’s good to be able to write again ! We returned last night from our ordeal, but a very thorough bathing, grooming and “writing up” our experiences took up all our time. 
       All appeared civilised enough as we approached the Southwest side of the Main Island, passing various Native settlements to arrive at an unbroken stretch of jungle rising like a tangled wall above the beach. I had wondered why our tutors, Miss Devinski and Miss Wildford, were in bathing costumes for such a trip – until they anchored the boat a hundred yards from the beach and told us to swim for it ! Naturally, they would be watching our progress with interest, and after our poor showing at the Air Navigation, I was quite keen to make a good start. If Helen had jumped overboard as fast as Maria and Molly, I would not have needed to push her in the slightest.

 (Memo to myself – the Nimitz Sea is really quite chilly in late October, and a flight suit full of water makes an exceedingly cumbersome bathing costume.)

      After quite some efforts, we arrived on the deserted beach an hour before sunset. Practicality prevailed over modesty, and our dorm were down to the fur immediately, wringing out the flight suits, and doing our best to groom our fur dry while “dishabille”. The others thought this quite amusing, Madelene X speculating loudly that we four would be used to such romps together by now. (Had our Tutors not been watching, I fear Molly would have done her an injury with the driftwood we were collecting. She is, as she puts it, “handy with a pool cue”, and not always in peaceful sport.)
      We had the last laugh, as it turned out. Soaked flight suits make poor bathing costumes, and even worse bedding ! Before sundown we had a snug leaf-shelter erected, dug for fresh water above the tide line, washed the salt water off our firearms and lit a fairly cheerful fire. The rain arrived an hour after dark (as expected) and the shelter leaked (as expected.) But not too badly, unlike Madelene X’s rather ramshackle structure – we at least had a half-decent nights sleep, packed in as snug as possible. Missy Kahaloa built a rather better shelter, but I pity the rest of the group, it would be like sharing a swimming pool with a whale …
      The next days were distinctly hard work, spotting edible plants and gathering shellfish etc from the beach. Miss Devinski and Miss Wildford were loosely watching over us, making sure none of the plants we gathered were too poisonous. They let Prudence Akroyd’s group sample a rather succulent gourd-like plant, only commenting that it has uses in Native medicine.

 (Memo to myself – should I ever be in need of a violent combined laxative and purgative in these Islands, I now know Exactly what to look for.)

      By the sixth day we were all distinctly hungry, especially Prudence and co., who recovered their appetite in a day or so. Prudence spent a long time searching for coconuts,  but returned empty-handed, much to the  amusement of Missy K. Possibly as a Native, she knows something we don’t – and asking Miss Devinski and Miss Wildford about it would be a sure way of losing points until the safari was over. (I must ask discreetly about Miss Wildford’s fur pattern, it is definitely – Different. Helen suspects fur dye, and Molly suspects Unusual Ancestry.)
     Apart from in the sleeping-shelters, we found out that trying to keep clothing dry in the jungle is simply a losing battle, Jasbir Sind having burned holes in most of hers trying to get an improvised drier working. There are leeches too, which are simply TOO beastly for description … they have a positive genius for finding their way in through hems and vents, and even lace-holes in boots.
       Anyway, following Helen’s suggestion we did our best to improvise Native costume from leaves and grasses. An untidy effort at first, but suprisingly effective – no protection from the daily downpours, but we get no wetter than in the flight suits, and dry out far faster. Jasbir Sind’s team followed “suit” as soon as they noticed the results,  though she managed a more practised, and recognisably Indian effect. Quite a sight we looked ! Missy Kahaloa was highly amused, saying we looked like “a bunch of refugees from the Gunboat Wars”, whatever that may mean. She refused to switch to the local costume herself, which seemed odd, unless Molly’s claim about her scaring away the tourists had more truth in it than she cares to admit.
      Maria, alas, is developing a definite phobia about the jungle wildlife. I did point out that a combination of our scavenged diet and the local leeches, would soon give anyone a slender, tulip figure (as opposed to Missy K’s turnip one.) She somewhat lost her temper, fortunately in Italian. Molly speaks the language tolerably well, thanks to her family’s Business connections, and assures me what Maria said is utterly physically impossible.
      At last, the week came to an end, and we hastily made ourselves respectable for the trip back to the Academy. I confess it was rather odd, wearing the Native “costume”, even our first attempts at it. After awhile, it feels little different from a bathing-suit, and can be made as modest, or otherwise, as one wishes. Definitely, we are a long way from Barsetshire!

November 6th, 1934

After a somewhat lengthy “de-briefing” on our jungle trip, and a thorough ridding ourselves from various small specimens of wildlife in our clothes and fur, it seems almost relaxing to get back into the lecture rooms and workshops. Still, the fresh air and hard work has some lasting effects beyond giving us keen appetites. Helen suggests (again) that we exercise some Initiative at the weekend and take an unescorted look at the Island, and for once I feel inclined to agree with her. 
      Molly suggests we disguise ourselves in Native costume, but the rest of us shout her down – at least, till we have more practice. By all accounts, the actual Natives can spot an impostor on sight, and though we might be taken for over-eager tourists in Season, the tour boats do not arrive till May.
      In class, we are now doing repairs on the actual aircraft we shall be flying ! It is more like “hide-and-seek” than anything – the technicians will loosen a control wire or put the magneto out of order, and we have to find the fault. At least we are sitting in a real aircraft, the Tiger Moths which are in fairly constant use by the Second and Third years. Having a dozen actual new aircraft for the Academy is a definite treat, and explains the somewhat steep fees that Songmark demand. I feel fortunate indeed that Father was willing to send me here – and indeed, he did say he would pay twice as much if necessary to send me such a distance.

      Molly refuses, as always, to attend Church on Sunday, and so misses out on some interesting trips. She does get time to read, though, and pointed out an article in the “Daily ‘Elele” regretting hopes are fading for the pioneering Christian Scientist crossing of the Pacific. The pilot was last seen taking off from Formosa, shivering with malaria and with an engine that any casual ear could tell was in severe trouble. He refused medical and mechanical aid, claiming that Faith would do more than all the doctors and mechanics in the world.
      (Maria has a different slant on this, claiming more Faith would have done the job. But I am glad to note she stays as vigilant as ever when packing her parachute in Class.)

November 7th, 1934

Hurrah ! We might not have our gramophone back as yet, but the marks have been worked out for our Jungle trip, and our dorm seems to have won by a mile. The reward for all that discomfort seems quite appropriate – no longer do we have to wear our blazers and the full uniform to classes. (Church, and other such Official trips, is of course another matter.) Miss Devinski has had another talk with us, suggesting suitable wear – we have no complaints, except for Maria. I had suggested before that her red flying-leathers with the pistol holsters was a little inappropriate for the classroom, but she WILL try and push things …
       At last, our Allowances have been officially processed, just in time for us to do some shopping. The island currency seems to be in Shells ($) and Cowries ( c ), 100 Cowries to the shell. I fear that having a decimal currency will lead to loose and sloppy thinking, and have worked out a neat formula that converts cowries into farthings (960 to the Pound Sterling.)
      Various things that were deemed Inappropriate for us to make use of at first, have been returned to us. Maria’s cheque-book is one of them – I discover that describing her as “near-Royalty” was small exaggeration, if she really wishes an aircraft she can practically buy one ! Miss Devinski made her promise to be moderate when she handed it over, though I fear Maria has her own idea of “moderate”.

© 2000 Simon Barber