Sunday 13th December 1942

Just now, crossing the gun park on my way to my home – in an ammo lorry – I saw the dim forms of two sentries in the shadow of a truck. And they saw me, too. “Who's that?” I caught a tense whisper. “The orderly officer?” “No, it's alright,” said the other, after a moment, “It's old Steve.” It has come to that now! I'm “old Steve” and doubtless also, “a steady old file,” like Jack Chenery!