Woke at 4 this morning, then dozed again and had another weird dream. I was walking down
High St. towards
Holly Trees, and found that All Saints Church was in ruins. By the War Memorial was a wrecked motor-bus,
with another bus alongside, full of children.
People were saying that the church had been bombed, and the tower had
come through into the nave, and there were three grotesque statues, apparently
from the tower, lying in the churchyard.
I at once began to organise a salvage party, and soon the ruins were
covered with people, all searching for antiquities. Among them were two Americans, and I spoke to
them and asked them to look for Roman pottery.
Castoligni’s house was destroyed, but one wall was already being
Busy all day on various things, yet seem to get nothing done. Captain Folkard very busy, still no chance to talk about leave, and I want to go in about a week. Don't know whether to go to
Wales or Scotland,
but I think it will be Scotland.