Sunday, February 18, 2007

Monday 31st July 1933

Late getting up. A bleak morning. Everything bleak and unwashed! The wind raged.

Afternoon. A job for Mr. Hebdon, shifting a poultry house on the chassis. Later a few downhill runs on the chassis, steered by a stave on the axel. A gateway to be negotiated on the way. Only once we left the road and crashed into bushes.

Tea in a tent, shaken by wind. It was soon night. The wind tore our flag. I feel lonely. There are four Scouts tonight. My tent is in a mess and the wind still rages. Tiny dressed my hands by lantern light while outside; the wind... All is bleak but I have found friends since I came.

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