Friday 12th February 1943

There's something queer about this unit nowadays, something hateful. It is not the dear old EY any more. I'm not the only one who has noticed this, if one can judge by the sullen spirit which prevails.

Tonight I finished off a sonnet, called “Far Horizon”. A moderate piece of work, but good enough for my note book.

“... that which once was almost akin
to the unreachable rendezvous
where a rainbow seems to begin...
Love and love and truth and truth...
... the gallant galaxy of youth...”

The usual bitter note crept into the last two lines!

“... forward to this, our great crescendo.
But careful! Oh heart, on this splendid day,
lest your cynical feet slip on the way”

No wonder there's a “bitter note”. This is rather like Almaza last year – minus Bob Dewhurst, too!