I go and spend the night with the Pauls, with the usual results, and say goodbye all round the breakfast table and get the bus home. Barbara sees me to the door. Then after clearance, down to town on the 2.30 train, after a drink in the Mess with the Group Captain and “Jumbo” Mazunder, who had suddenly appeared. In the train Mihalski, Plewcynzynski, Shirey and me and one or two others, and we play pontoon, myself retiring before it got too tough. I spend the night at Nuffield House and it’s boiling hot at night, and I wake up to a couple of loud bangs about 1am.
Next day down to St Ives and have bed and breakfast in Curnows and other meals out or in the flat with Ma. I reorganise the baggage and have a good kit bag of Daddy’s. I am not too well, some common fever apparent in one’s first winter in England, says Ma, so that’s that. Some beer in the “Sloop” and I see Vivian but no more joy than before. After Larkhill I have to come back and wait for a posting which will be pretty bloody, as I don’t like this joint. I am fast getting a cold, despite much gargling.