Thursday 28th October 1937

Brigade Gun Contest at Walthamstow. I was Eight on Number One Gun. Felt more nervous than I did before the first shoot! A different drill hall, strange equipment. The unfortunate 193rd had to be rushed 30 miles by bus to compete, and was competing within a few moments of arrival. We did not win. Lost on time. The predictor detachment bungled the dials of an unfamiliar instrument.

Droning back, late at night, we argued and argued, grumbling at the general unfairness of the contest. However, I have no complaints. The judge praised our gun drill, saying it was the most efficient during the contest. Furthermore, Number One Gun, my gun, was the faster of the two. What more could a humble Eight wish for?