A Story of War

Bud Loveless and I take two batwomen (?), Betty and Pat respectively, out to Andover for beer and then walk home to the Waaf dance, but no score on either side. Scott, self, Raynor, Johnson, George and Robinson are posted to 83 G.S.U. at Lasham today, but their adjutant rings up and tells us to go on leave until the 29th, which doesn’t suit me a bit, as I shall have to go down to St Ives, and would much rather get on with the job and cross over to Holland. After eight months in the UK I still haven’t done what I wanted and I am now about to leave again, though I am not going so very far away this time. On looking back, I suppose that I could have done better if I had been a bit bolder and hadn’t made that fatal change of policy in Chester. But that was a shot in the dark that damn near succeeded! There seems scope (slight) here in Andover if I was stationed here, but no one has had any luck in the week that we have been here. However, as I say to myself, “the day will dawn” – I hope that I shall live to see it!