Two years in the RAF but no promotion yet, as they have swindled me out of five days and dated me October 30th. I go out with Maitland France, 70 Division’s G3 Ops, to lunch with the 56th. Bobby Elmslie there, the same as usual and talks to me exactly twice. The adjutant, called Penty, seems efficient, and my old subedar Mohan Chul, now a Captain. Tara Singh (Sergeant Major) and I meet subedar Abdul Rahman. There are to be two companies of mounted infantry on well fed Tonya ponies, and two companies in ‘jeeps’. Last night we have a sort of dance out here. We polish the verandah floor and dance to Brown’s accordion – about a dozen guests including Maitland, and bacon and fried egg sandwiches later on. I am starting a cold and still a bit tired.
Saturday night Burt Mann lets off a bazaar bomb outside the club and blows two windows in. We hear it up here, two miles away. There are 5 A.P.M.s in the club at the time, and he is talking to one of them when it goes off, as the delay didn’t work properly and the fuse dragged on and on. Scott of F.S. Police is also on the job, but they all think it was a ‘Congress wallah’ trying to blow the place up.