Sunday 21st December 1941

Regimental Church Parade – a memorial service for Gilbert, Captain Turner, Bibby, Elliott, Wilkie Wilkinson, Mr Yates and the rest. A razor blade was issued to each man last night... And dress this morning was greatcoats, tin hats, battle dress and gaiters. The service was up on the miredam and most of us could hear little of what was said, the bitter desert wind snatched the words from the Padres lips and tossed them away.

The Colonel has been to see Army Commander and hopes to get us moved down eventually. The 1st RHA went yesterday. Jack Weatherall has come back to us from that regiment. We now have to man an exchange, as night duties have recommenced. Yesterday there was a foul dust storm but it is clearer today.

Late this afternoon there was a hell of a panic and, grumbling, we dismantled our exchange and 'phones again and eventually sent the cooloo down to Ordnance. Wireless sets, batteries... everything went in, at about 10 minutes notice. So there's no wireless news or music in our tent tonight and a very dim light run off 4 “X” type (1.5V) cells in series.

However the general morale is high again for it looks as though we really are going down soon. But that doesn't make us jubilant for we are “the generation of the broken hearted.” Something more concrete than the hope of leave and civilisation has increased our happiness criteria – the arrival of NAAFI stores. 40 Players each and two tins of beer.