Wednesday 22nd November 1939

Eight a side rugger trial this afternoon. I feel stiff already! I’m hoping to get a long-week-end pass this Friday. Nevertheless they have booked me for the first of the typhoid inoculation parades, tomorrow. This is usually followed by about 36 hours of fever, so I may well go home a semi-invalid, blast it.

The lance-snakes had heard, with sympathy, of the mysterious, dark window lady. Yesterday Pond told me, “We’ve made inquires old man and your dream of love is ended. She’s already going out with Brandon!” (One of the gunners, a rum fella.)
Today I asked Brandon if this were true, adding that I intended to steal his prize if possible. At first Brandon was kind but firm but later in the day he relented and told me about her and said (vaguely) he’d “see what could be done”. “Yes,” I said, “I’ll be RP below her window tomorrow. Tell her to look out and make a sign” “Right,” said Brandon, “No harm in mentioning it.”

“Good heavens, is he serious?” I asked Pond later, in astonishment. “Oh yes,” he said, “Brandon’s a simple , kind-hearted fellow.” I knew that but surely there are limits to kindliness? Owing to the inoculation however, I’ve been relieved from duty and if She looks from her window she’ll see a tall lance-jack on RP duty who is not me. Garwood. He’ll be puzzled if she makes some sign of friendship or negation!