Tuesday 24th February 1942

There was a rough wind last evening; it continued all through the night and by 10 o'clock this morning had provoked the inevitable dust storm. Visibility not more than 50 yards – if the stinging particles of grit let you open your eyes. In these weather conditions we did all yesterday's work again, differently. The loaded trucks were unloaded and their fittings removed; the wooden cases which were packed yesterday were opened again and the instruments they contained were issued. The trucks which yesterday were not to be fitted with wireless, were today fitted – with wireless.

Now, once more we are ready to move.

I awoke suddenly about 3 o'clock this morning. It was dark and the tent was shaking violently. You know that feeling of cramp one gets in the legs or arms (“pins and needles”) when you've been lying some time in an un-natural position? “My arm has gone to sleep!” you say, casually, stretching it. Well, the back of my head had got pins and needles! “Ye gods!” I thought in alarm, “That's where my brain is! Am I all right?” So I said, “My name is Dawson. England is near the North Sea. Nine and one make ten,” and turned on my side reassured.

However, as a precaution, I've given Bob Andrews strict instructions to massage the back of my head if my mind is vacant when I awake tomorrow!