‘Planes were going out after half past 11 last night, and about 2 a.m. this morning I heard an “all-clear”, and the voices of the men on the searchlight.
More ‘planes began warming up at Langham soon after 5 – a dull, horrid roar. Got in early, lot of American traffic on the road, going both ways. Saw one of Blythe’s pair horse wagons on the road, with nice Suffolks.
Busy all morning with minutes, had to ring the Executive Officer about the meeting. He is always most charming on the ‘phone.
Left early this afternoon, and went with Molly Blomfield in her car to see Frank Girling about photos [for the National Buildings Record]. I was particularly anxious that she should get his cooperation as he is such a fine photographer and has such a knowledge of buildings in the district, but she was most reluctant to go.
On the way saw Wyncoll at Ardleigh (Fox St) was cutting oats, and the wheat is yellowing fast. But the wind was rising, with racing clouds, and the corn moved back and forth in tempestuous waves. Who would be a farmer?
Girling showed us a fine lot of his photos, but Molly paid little attention, and was all in a state to get away home.
She left me at Lawford, on the top road, and I walked down over the fields, feeling very tired and miserable. Lay on the bed for an hour so, and on waking had a most unpleasant sensation of loss of memory – I had not the slightest idea where I was. Looked out of the window, saw the steep hill-side, the cows chewing peacefully in the cool of the evening below me, and the moon rising. Came to the conclusion that I must be in
, an idea perhaps stimulated
by getting “Yr Herald” from Humphrey Davies today. It was some minutes before I realised where I
really was. Wales
Wind has now dropped, and it looks like fine weather.