Saturday, December 13, 2008

Sunday 31st January 1943

The roof held! Snow was driving bitterly over a bleak white waste all day. It was pretty ghastly on the canteen roof this morning. Bill Bax, Ted Gayler, Bill Lemmas, Jock Wilson and I gingerly went along the edge, brushing off the snow. Today, the small, bitter, hurrying flakes don't seem to have settled much.

Eight refugees from a collapsed troop hut have moved in here temporarily. Despite the blizzard, Abraham turned up for work ā€“ only an hour late. The roads are all impassable, so the rations have been pretty grim this day. And of course, it was impossible for me to go into Damascus for any stores. We are sold out of every eatable thing in the canteen now.

Ted Gayler has been posted to BHQ to ā€œCā€ Troop and there is a rumour that I am to leave the canteen and go back to bloody signalling in his place. This whisper leaves me gravely disturbed, for I do not want to go back to signalling, especially at a time of colossal bullshit and strict discipline like this. The thought makes me realise how fine this job is, despite all it's worries.


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