Sunday 30th November 1941

I overslept. Bob Andrews awoke me, calling through the entrance of my burrow. “How goes the war?” I sleepily enquired. “El Duda must be held at all costs,” he responded grimly. “That's discouraging. Who's got to hold it? Us?”
“Not yet, anyhow. Come on, breakfast is ready.” “OK”

9p.m. The news tonight was definitely encouraging. The General commanding 21st Armoured Division is “in the bag,” along with ten of his officers. (This is the division which I heard mentioned over the phone lines a couple of days ago.) Two counter attacks on our 5 mile wide corridor have been repulsed and the Jerry is still fighting desperately, possibly trying to escape to the south. Meanwhile, our patrols have reached the coast beyond Benghazi and destroyed a convoy on it's way to the front. Yes, encouraging!

“What news pless?” asked a Pole (I was sitting in their new exchange, down the wadi) “Jerry finish, in Libya,” I said and they laughed. It seems that all soldiers understand the soldier's weary, cynical, sarcastic humour.