A Story of War

I manage to get myself on the first hill party to Shillong for three weeks. 1 BO and 13 British other ranks. A horrid train journey, six hours late, and I go to stay with Paddy [in Calcutta] as he had invited me, but someone else there so I am at 1 Bishop Lefroy Street. A bedroom, half a sitting room and bathroom for 5/-. Good food too. Went to Octavia Steel’s and found Uncle Stanley on a new garden further up. Met Pitcairn, 20 sqn, also, who is in charge of their party. One Kochar of 353 sqn IAF in next room and we go to drink at “Grand” last night, as it’s dry here. Met Everard and Warburton of 17 sqn, the latter, having got himself engaged to an undesirable girl in Darjeeling, is being shipped off to the Middle East.

Saw an E.C.O. in the regiment in the Grand last night and said “Are you in the 56th?” “No” he said, “I’m in Frontier Force Rifles”. “Good God, which battalion?” “The 8th”. Some dialogue – the army’s going to the dogs. Hurricanes roar over the rooftops all day long here, but no air raids so far.