Wednesday 5th October 1938

Calls in the Crouch-Blackwater Zone. No orders. First time since January, when I began, that that journey has failed to produce a single order.

Cold day, squally rain. One has to sniff and blow one’s nose frequently. One has to fumble, many times during the day, for a pencil, or a handkerchief, or cigarettes, or matches – beneath a wet mackintosh. One has to make two or three attempts to close the door and then, when the car has started, one finds it wasn’t shut properly, after all… Thank heavens, the windscreen wiper now wipes – bloody efficiently.