A Story of War

I take Jill to the Grosvenor and “pay off ship”. She is the wife of some Canadian W/C and refuses to tell me her name. A pity. Next day I go into Barlow’s with Denys Collier, but nothing doing.

Last night Reg, David, Collier and self go to Pulton in Reg’s car to an all ranks dance there, but too many vested interests at work there and everyone organised. We drink much beer in the Mess and I dance around with the odd Waaf, ending up in the back slums of the Mess consuming coffee with Denys and his friend “Loo”. We have to wait around for Reg who is seeing some Waaf home, and the S.D.O. gets damned annoyed as he wants to close the joint up and go to bed. We creep out at last, and I lead the way down a lane of white stones, the others having bad night vision, saying “follow me chaps” and crash heavily over a bicycle as these ‘stones’ are concrete stands. I see it the next morning with its (wheel) rim bent and it turns out to be Scottie’s.

I have nothing in my hand right now and am damned annoyed to see everyone else around me organised.