Tuesday 28th July 1942

At breakfast, I sat at table with four Englishmen and a Canadian. We talked over our cigarettes and the final cup of tea.

“I tell you, this is the end of the British Empire, whoever wins the war. They'll sling us out of India...”
“Yes. And USA will control Australia and Canada. You see.”
“That's so. We'll sink to the level of a small power, like Holland, or Denmark”
“And the average Englishman will be just as happy too...”
“Oh I don't know. Not under the present System. It's not Democracy.”
“England's rotten and corrupt. I've finished with it...”
“Oh, come! Be British!”
“No. Don't get me wrong. I love the country – and the people who live there – the ordinary people – but the whole bloody show is run wrongly.”
“Yes. England's fine in itself. Just think of it. “All England is a garden”, sure enough.”
“Yes, but the System. I tell you, after this lot's over, I'll just go back to sort things out and then I'll be off for good. To a better country. America maybe, or Australia.”

“Cigarette?”
“Thanks.”

“England has been the leader of Western civilisation; but that's all over now. She let the world drift in to this... She deserves to lose her leadership. Proved unworthy.”
“Yes. Remember when Hitler marched into he Rhineland? We could have stopped it then.”
“That's right. Poland saw the red light...”
“But England would do nothing.”

“Ah well, I suppose it's time we moved. The waiters want to clear the tables.'
“Yes.”