Fine day. Another raid on
London last night, but we are assured that it
is “negligible”. Sisson told me last
night that everybody in London
is making a lot of fuss about these continual raids, as they have now had a
week of disturbed nights. Feeling of
quiet depression, a succession of dull dark winters stretching away in the distance.
Molly Blomfield phoned this morning, about a letter to the National Buildings Record. Her voice sounded dreadful. Poulter went to her brother's funeral this afternoon at Lexden.
Got away at quarter to 6, clouds coming up, and rain began just as I got to the cottage. Found the radio was almost dead, usually a sign of a raid, and before 7 heard the most tremendous gunfire I have ever heard. It went on in a continuous rumbling roar in the west, obviously
direction. The clouds were low, and
there was heavy rain. I have never seen
an attack in such weather. It sounded
like a very big raid indeed. One or two
planes came over going out, and the Harwich guns fired at them.