Thursday 28th October 1943

30 furlongs today.

Once again, wild rumours have solidified into facts. A convoy is going and this compound has contributed two happy souls. One of them is Jock Hart. He is sitting on his bed, dressed in khaki, pleasantly excited and looking about 10 years younger.

This writing is bad because I cut my forefinger whilst book binding this afternoon. It makes writing awkward.