I forgot about a lunch party at “Chandos” with Baffy on Friday 13th, whereat appear Col. Walter Elliot M.P. and one Colin Coote, who I think is a leader writer for the Telegraph, and most interesting.
Here is it delightfully green and birds chirp around, though damn me if I can tell one from the other, they are all so drab. I sell my old battle dress to a Dutch boy who comes round our house, for 50 guilders, through the agency of Jock Trothill, our arch black-marketeer. Cigarettes, too, fetch 20 guilders per hundred! Today there is occulus cloud and continuous drizzle and I am standing by in the Mess, briefed for Area 5 – near the dreaded Bremen and Wilhelmshaven. Thirtle of 268 was shot down yesterday whilst attacking a ship in the harbour in that area – but bailed out the wrong side of the bomb line.
I am reading Monica’s “Droll Stories of Balzac” – and droll they are.