Tuesday, June 17, 2008

Thursday 8th June 1939

No breakfast, thank you! Fall out with “the sick”. Frightfully futile red tape was unwound before I was allowed to go to the dentist. Lots of forms were filled in …
Shead, also “sick”, went with me for a slack, ostensibly, in case I “came all over queer” after being in the chair. We sat in the car in a quiet lane, nearly dozed off. Battery lorries suddenly appeared from all sides and the lane was no longer quiet. Shead, startled, hastily put on my sun glasses as a disguise.

We hurried up into Epping and to the dentists. He gave me an unusual amount of various kinds of dope before taking out a couple of teeth almost painlessly. The first one was a hell of a job but he didn’t break it! “Out?” “Yes” I spat joyfully. Then, “Open again please”…. “Out?” “Yes”. Thank God!

Parked on the edge of the forest for some time. Shead and I lay on the grass and read the paper. Every few minutes II rose, walked across to the bushes, and spat.
Bleeding worse when we reached Camp. I reported to Battery Office. “Oh, you’d better report to the Sergeant Major”. “Excuse me” I mumbled and turning, spat out a mouthful of blood. “Probably he’ll excuse you duty for the rest of the day” added the Sergeant thoughtfully. I lay in the tent and bled. I washed my mouth out and then went back and bled again. I read a book – and bled. The Segt. Major came to see me – I never did report to him! – and found me looking very bloody (literally)
Plugged the hole again. Bleeding stopped at 4p.m. – after 5 hours.

In the evening I sneaked out for my first meal, followed by my first cigarette of the day. “Rose”, a quaint individual, sympathetically provided soup, mashed potatoes and Horlicks again.


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