Monday 26th July 1937

Bitterly cold. High wind. Low cloud – 3000 feet. 193 still standing by.

The Predictor is a really infernal machine with lots of little wheels and dials and what-not. I carried out my duties satisfactorily, without knowing what it all meant.
Saw Porter at teatime. He has now got a vacancy on his gun, for a Number Nine. That is hardly a proud position, but I’m glad to be on the gun, glad to be back in the left section and glad to be under Porter.

The loneliness here does not seem to suit Stock – he’s only 17 – so I saw Sergt. Dunster about it. He at once arranged for Stock to be relieved. Lee is the new man. I don’t know him but he’s an old soldier and I think we’ll get on well together. Allen was too “cocky” and Stock was unintelligent. Lee and I have made a comfortable nook with boxes, in the least draughty part of the tent.

It is now 10 p.m. The sky is grey, the sea is grey; the marquee shakes in the wind, which moans around the corners. I am going to turn in and read for a few moments. Have a stub of candle left. Will smoke two cigarettes perhaps. Funds are running low; 5/6d still remains.