Thursday, February 05, 2009

Tuesday 9th May 1944

Weary days, waiting for that interview with the Psychiatrist. I'm trying not to let it worry me, but so much depends on this. Whichever he pleases, he can recommend and the Medical Board will adopt his advice. He can (a) make me remain in the Army (b) advise that I be sent to a mental hospital again or (c) recommend my discharge from the Army. These three courses are so dissimilar and will have such enormously different effects upon my future – yes! and upon our marriage – that it is natural to feel some sense of suspense.

I sometimes find quietude by going alone into the woods – at one point the trees are so near that it is easy to slip into their green shade if only for a few minutes. When I'm in the woods I walk very softly. I rustle no bushes, no twig snaps beneath my foot; therefore sometimes I find a surprised bird, worm in mouth, looking at me quite close at hand. Occasionally in the evenings I walk right through the wood, or along the old tram track, to the cafe of the tangled garden.

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