Friday 20th August 1943

After the usual harassing adventures of parade and “exercise,” I settled down in the peace of the drawing department at OT. A vague idea of verse stirred: “The lady and her knight rode clad in gold and white...” Needs elaboration. Well - “The lady Romance and her knight, a simple man who courted her...” No. The identity of the knight should be left until the end of the poem. Perhaps for the second line, “Who'd loved her long and knew her fair”? Yes! “Rode clad...”

At this moment I, with William, was summoned to the pack store (to have our kits checked) urgently. Once again I enjoyed the humiliation of emptying all my personal belongings on the floor of the store, whilst an orderly watched intently. What change in my possessions could have taken place in 6 days is difficult to visualise. The store officials seemed, to my fevered mind, to be dancing with glee whilst various tiddley forms were filled in and sundry comic regulations enforced. Once again I was made up to the UK kit scale. (The last time was 3 weeks ago.) Apparently I must take KD shorts back to England but must not wear them... and so on, God knows what or why. The ordeal lasted 1½ hours, so it's no wonder I'm trembling so that I can hardly write properly.