Wednesday 16th February 1944

I'm still in my right mind, in fact less frantic and apprehensive than formerly.
Perhaps that's because I again took “French Leave” this afternoon. I slipped out of the Barracks at 1:15p.m. and made my way to Hampstead safely. They welcomed me there as though I'd just come from overseas all over again, bless them!

I spoke to Aunt Sue at Wolfhampcote whilst at Hampstead and later had a phone conversation with John Brockwell of all people, who happened to be in London for a few hours. I Suppose John and I will meet eventually but don't suppose we'll be close friends again for we must have grown apart. During the last four and a half years I've gone down the ladder and been crushed, repressed and subdued in this glorious Army of our Great Nation. John, during the same period, remaining a civilian has blossomed in position, wealth and intellect and “drive”; he is now an up and coming factory executive and chemical expert. That's all morbid and by the way, though.

The afternoon at Hampstead certainly did me good. Whilst there I called in a jeweller's and left the wedding ring for alteration and engraving.

Left Hampstead at 7p.m. and arrived back here at about 8:0p.m. The barrack room fire was burning and a few men sat around it – the rest were out in the town or in the canteen. Charlie Kunz melodies were tinkling merrily from the radio relay speaker and the whole scene was cheerful.