Bill Robinson and I are staying at Hambledon preparing for a wedding, my own, at which he is best man. We spend the morning polishing Sam Brownes and swords. Old Hume sends two table napkin rings. John and Betts (JDW: Angela’s elder brother and his wife) give a sort of party in our honour on Saturday with some very good rum punch, where I meet Mike Chates, O.H.
A. and I have a puncture on the way and I have to change the wheel. I cause a sensation by walking home from High Wycombe yesterday, and spend the afternoon writing letters. Last night Tony, John, Bill and I finish the last of the rum punch and some cocktail sitting in the dining room on hard chairs before an electric fire, and hold forth on life, and soldiering, in general.
From March 18th entry:
I get married by the ex-Bishop of Singapore, and everything goes O.K., except that I sit on my hat and try to put the ring on the wrong finger. Bill and I discover that we can’t raise the necessary, after the Verger has presented the bill, but fortunately J.J. is at hand and passes £10 over the pews.
At the reception I stand on my sword and shake a lot of hands and try and pop down a lot of drinks as well. One old buffer says “Nice to see an officer properly dressed again – with a sword.” I produce my speech, already prepared, which seems to go O.K., and we later depart in the Morris 8 for the Woolpack Inn, Elstead, Surrey.
At the wedding I remember Aunts Babs and Vivy, J.J., Peggy, Gigs, Wendy, Mike Jacobs and Freddie, Mike Lowry, “Stew” and Anderson from Roland Gardens, and Mrs Steele Smith. Mike presents me with a cheque for £15! (JDW: c. £450 in today’s money). Also Ronald Deakin and Cecil Williams, who carries out one of the bridesmaids, Mary Haines, the other being her sister Vera. I am reduced to tears in the Vestry, and forget to kiss A.