The first treat I have had since we arrived came last night when I managed to get off the ship for a couple of hours and, through a telegram sent this morning, met Father at the Waldorf. And I not only did this, but I also called up Bayhead on the phone and talked with my Mother and some of the other members of the family for a minute. Father and I and an old friend of the family who happened to be at the hotel took dinner together. It was wonderful to see Father again, and I had so much to say about the trip all at once that I could only talk in disconnected sentences. The worst of it all was that I had to go back to the boat again at eleven o'clock. Even then my uniform created quite a lot of excitement in the subway. I hadn't intended wearing it at first, but a quick survey of my wardrobe showed that there was nothing else to do.
This afternoon I managed to get off again for a little while. I saw my brother for a couple of hours before we separated at the Grand Central Station. He was leaving for Fort Niagara to enter the Officers' Training Camp there.
My uniform helps just as much here as it did in London. I have no trouble at all going back and forth through the gates at the Basin. A dignified looking Russian major, thinking that I was a British officer, gave me a fine salute, which of course I returned in front of the hotel.
