Fine, warm. An enormous number of ‘planes flew out soon after 9, quite low, flying due E, and came back about half past 11. Strange to think what misery their pilots have no doubt caused in that brief two and a half hours, during which I was writing, talking, answering the telephone, etc. We think our allies are awfully clever, but shall we think this sort of thing so clever if the Germans can get enough ‘planes to answer back? They ought to be able to do so by next year.
Some rain at times, and I had great hope that the weather would break, but it turned into a fine, clear, summer evening. Saw a mad woman, dressed like a nurse, walking slowly down East Hill, talking loudly and angrily to herself.
Went down to Bourne Mill, and saw people feeding the swans. There are seven now, two old and five young, and the pond is remarkably clear of weed, better than it has been for years. One old bird chased the young ones, surging through the water like a battleship. Some of the young ones flapped along, wings waving, and literally walking on the water as they went. Several children, aged about 12-14, watching, all of whom referred to the birds as “ducks”.
Weymouth’s “A Psychologist’s Wartime Diary”
from the Library. Most extraordinarily
naïve and childish for such a person. If
I thought mine was as poor as this I would destroy the whole lot. How can a supposedly intelligent man write
such piffling rubbish? The scathing
remarks on Stalin make amusing reading compared with the papers of today.
Only heard on the 9 o’clock news that the RAF had made the “heaviest attack of the war” last night on railways in
France. Hope this will not mean a return raid
tonight. The moon does not rise until
midnight, but perhaps the Germans don't bother to revenge attacks on France.