A Story of War

My birthday yesterday, though you wouldn’t have known it.

I go to the flight office in the morning and the monsoon pours down and eventually water invades the tent, despite my drainage system. Then Robin White rescues me in his car and we return to the mess. The ‘drome under water and only fit for flying boats. Then Teddy and I go down in the evening and visit Hammers and wife, who return with us to the mess for dinner. I get in a couple of squash evenings at G.H. with Teddy and Robin. This could be a good squadron, if we had better leadership. Burt Mann, Pierce and White are the flight commanders, and they could be a lot worse (and better too). Eric Adams the adjutant, most efficient and hard working, Williams censor and cyphers and old Gunn. We are supposed to fly up to Kohat on Sunday and flight ground crews go up by train. I haven’t flown for about six weeks! So shall probably prang somewhere. Route Gaga-Cawnpore-Delhi-Lahire-Kohat. It was originally Miramshah.

My kite is having an engine change and work has been held up due to the torrents of water pouring out of the sky. No exercise possible. Visited the club last Saturday, but after Shillong and my Jane it’s a complete anti-climax. I see all the girls with whom I used to dance – Gawd! What shockers!