Wednesday 9th June 1937

After a late start I cycled through Rochford to Canewdon, under a bright blue sky. Canewdon stands on a hill. Two miles to the north I saw a broad river in a valley. Beyond it, green hills. The river was the Crouch and the country beyond was not my territory.

“The hills of Jerusalem!” I thought romantically. “Area B!” As I cycled along I imagined fantastically that someday when Chelmsford was mine, I’d enter the town with drums beating, like a conqueror. When Chelmsford, Burnham and Maldon are annexed, I’ll cross the Crouch impressively – by boat! 51 degrees 40’ North. Dreams!