17th September 1944

Fine sunny day.  Delighted to find myself one hour earlier than I thought, as the clocks had been altered.  About 12 there was a tremendous explosion, but whether a ‘plane crash or a rocket difficult to say.

Went down to Nayland, and had tea at the Sissons who are staying there in a little house near the river.  Nowadays the feeling of going “over the border” when one goes into Suffolk is intensified, the Defence Regulations giving an extra spice.  The natives have endless troubles to put up with, and have always to remember to carry their identity cards and all that sort of thing.

In the evening cycled up towards Stoke.  Scotland Street looked lovely in the evening light, with the mellow ancient houses, dark green trees, and groups of swans flying slowly overhead.  Not a sound of a ‘plane anywhere.

Back to Boxted, had supper, and early to bed.  Lay thinking of what I am to say to Spivy tomorrow.

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