A Story of War

We leave Port Said early on the 8th and are now about level with Bizerta. I shout to Johnny Benbow on “Lancashire” in Port Said. We have a 16 ship convoy but some leave for Italy and another one has joined us this morning. An air attack alarm yesterday morning but nothing appears. We do one hour a day watch on the bridge for aircraft, very pleasant, though what the hell I am supposed to recognise I don’t know. P.T. and hockey in the evenings and I have a raging cold. Half an hour a day polishing all my buttons – hell.