Sunday 19th July 1942

Jock went back to Base this morning. Last night we went across to the lido, on the Canal bank near here – not to swim but to smoke, drink many cups of tea and play chess in the attached canteen. This place is pleasantly reminiscent of a low-class English cafe. It remains open late at night, untidy, hot and friendly; and as in the English counterpart, there is the small group of late patrons, spread about the tables, arguing or playing cards or recounting anecdotes. Last night Jock and I came away at about 10:30p.m. Finis Jock.

There is a lull in the desert fighting; in some places. Jerry has withdrawn slightly. Altogether things are more normal. The Canal is busy once again with shipping going north, towards the Med. In the latest intake are several 519 gunners, few known to me except Lance Bdr. Johnnie Blakey. They all seem to have hold of this rumour that 339 are “in the bag”. Don't suppose there will be any definite news yet.
Things must be getting settled! Even the open air cinema at this Con. Depot, will be running it's shows again as from tonight.

The Adjutant of this depot, with an insolence reminiscent of the infamous Lady Astor, recently published an Order in which we were abused as “sub-human animals in uniform”. A pretty phrase! This outburst was occasioned by some gentleman in khaki who had deposited his excreta in one of the urinals.