Monday 17th April 1944

My God, that Medical Board. I had to wait 2½ hours before the interview. When I went in I was very tensed-up and obviously gave a bad impression of my mental stability. The interview lasted 30 minutes; later they recalled me and said that they'd been unable to agree about my case. “We are all of the opinion that you should be discharged from the Army,” said a quite kindly Colonel, “But there is another matter about which we have a difference of opinion. So we're going to get some more information from your MO at the camp and will see you again next week.”

It was only too obvious from this and other remarks that some of them thought I should be put back into a mental hospital... I hurried away, refusing to visualise any such possibility and determining not to imagine what a tragedy that would be. Feeling pretty shaken however, I had a wash and some tea and then called at the Overs and went to the local pictures (no queues or crowds there!) with Jean and Nora. I was glad of a friendly family tonight. The film was “The Petrified Forest,” a pre-war show I've wanted to see for years.

I laughed about the Board and told Mrs Overs “I've been remanded for a week” at supper, answering questions, I laughed again and said, “Those doctors must think I'm potty! One of them asked if I knew what town I was in!” Everyone was amused and someone said, “Gracious! There's certainly nothing wrong with your nerves!”

So I didn't think much about the whole awful business until I got back into the Nissen hut at Gosforth Park, and everyone said, “Well, Dawson, boy! How did it go at the Board?”