A Story of War

I am due for discharge tomorrow. The treatment is now two days quinine, five days Atebrin, two days rest and five days Plasmaquin, or whatever the present substitutes. I get a bottle of Solan beer each evening, but am getting fed up with the chap who shares my room, an RIASC Lieutenant who insists on showing me how Indian sepoys salute and mark time. Me! The S.M.O. W/C says he will fix me another board in Delhi and have me sent to the UK. Like hell he will. If I am not careful I shall get returned to the Army as a Lieutenant again, if not fit to fly out here.

Mike I hear of in Ooty waiting for his boat, but ‘Tiny’ Irwin appears to be back in this country, so God knows what the policy is. If I go home I shall get bumped off in a Mustang but it will be worth it. We now get a lot of Canadian whisky and gin each month, per officer – a great improvement. Madras bombed on the nights of the 12th/13th. One a/c dripped six bombs I believe.