Wednesday, January 16, 2008

Sunday 25th July 1937

Still cold, with a high wind. Full day’s duty for me. Up at 7 o’clock. Stock went to breakfast first. I followed later and had a comfortable meal with Coleman, the AQM, Webb, the Battery Clerk, and two mess orderlies.

This morning 22 men left camp, having completed eight days training. I watched them march past the Gun Park. “Cheerio!” “Cheerio old boy!” Coleman, Howell, Allen, Barber and Morrison were in the party.

Lunchtime, some balls-up occurred re. my job in the Battery. Apparently I had been chosen for Officer’s Mess Servant for the next week. I strongly objected to this subservient post and Sergt. Dunster eventually gave someone else the job. However, in the meantime, Porter had deleted my name from his list of gunners and had got another fuse number. “I assure you sincerely that the mistake wasn’t mine,” he said, “And I’ll try and get you back on the gun by Tuesday.” (“A jolly decent NCO”, I thought.) Later in the afternoon, Sergt. Dunster scrambled into my wildly flapping tent and briefly stated I was to be Number Six in the Predictor Detachment. An utterly different job! Let us hope it is only a temporary one.

Lonely afternoon in the wind shake, draughty tent. Eventually, I made a barricade of UB2 boxes and lay snugly in between them, reading an American magazine.

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