Quiet night, except for ‘planes. Looked out at 5, and saw all the landing lights on, ‘planes continuously coming in.
This morning talking to Capt. Folkard about marketing of agricultural produce, and remarked how Colchester street market had decayed during the war – on last Saturday there were only 12 stalls set out.
Heard by ‘phone that we had a bad fire at Copt Hall on Saturday – the engine of the combine harvester back-fired and destroyed 20 acres of standing wheat in fields below the lower buildings. Maidstone went down to see, as Capt. Folkard went off on a short holiday, which he richly deserves.
Glorious fine day. News in the papers optimistic, and some idea that the war will be over before winter. Very doubtful, but anyway the divers will be ended in a few weeks, as the launching-sites are being cut off.
Early evening decided to go to the Playhouse, but the film so bad wished I had not.
To Boxted 9.30, in a lovely quiet cool evening. ‘Planes taking off again tonight. Bed 11.30, hopefully.