Saturday 9th November 1940

At breakfast, I met Jack Chenery, loafing wearily up, as usual, untidy, dry-witted. “Hullo Steve,” he said, tired to death and browned off, “I reported sick but they gave me M and D and sent me back here”.

Podgie Pond came along to the exchange dugout during the morning. He was immaculate in freshly dobied uniform, full of vitality and keen-ness. “Hullo Steve!” he bawled, shaking hands, “How are you, boy? What d'ye think of the situation?” “Pretty steady,” I replied, “I don't reckon I'll see England this side of thirty. It's going on for years yet, Sid.” “Cooh! Bloody wars! What about me boy? Thirtieth birthday the other day! No, it can't last so long through Finance. Can't stand it. Well, I had a grand time at the Base, boy!”