A Story of War

I have the Jones’ up again and also a party with Babneal (?) and his wife. Meet a charming fellow called Broderick, a South African.

I manage to squeeze two weeks sick leave and one casual out of the A.O.C. and am off to Munnar in Travancore. There is an RAF hill depot there and it’s the centre of the planting community but I have a horrid feeling that it will rain like hell, I shall be alone and with nothing to do but read books all day. I wrote to a chap in Ooty for some shooting, and he said he could fix me up in his bungalow in the shooting country, including food, transport and a tracker at Rs30/- a day, exclusive of baits and beaters. OK for the Prince of Wales on safari but not for “Josope”.