Tuesday, January 20, 2009

Tuesday 4th January 1944

Met Nobby, out on parole at last.

A windy walk; English blustering winds are good! However much we may dislike England – if we do – we shall always come back, because we were born here, also our ancestors, and the climate is our climate, the weather our weather.

It is 4:30p.m. - half an hour to tea – and I feel damn hungry, in spite of a good dinner at 1p.m. Hell of an appetite these days! Lucky there's enough food to satisfy it!

Nobby said that a few nights ago he listened helplessly to a beating up. He heard blows crashing again and again into something soft – a stomach or chest – and then one blow – Knock! on something harder, followed by a louder cry of pain. Then the thumping ceased and Nobby heard an orderly say, irritably, - “Look, you silly bugger, you've marked him, now.”

Next morning one of the patients had a cut, swollen lip...


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