12th January 1945

Ghastly night.  Never had such pain for years.  Began to wonder if I had pneumonia, as the whole thorax was tender, and felt restricted.

Rain began about midnight, and was soon running in through a hole near the window.  Felt too bad to bother about it, and lay hour after hour, listening to it dripping on the floor.  At last fell asleep for a couple of hours about 6.  Would like to have stayed in bed all day, but did not dare.

To office at 9.30, and crouched over the fire.  Bought apples for Father.  Went round to see the Town Clerk about the Town Library books.  He admitted quite frankly that he regarded them as valueless and said: “Any books which are not read ought to be pulped.”  He seems to be a complete fool.

Streets in a dreadful mess, full of mud, water and slush.  Saw an American convoy, travelling very fast, full of bombs, going towards Lynn.  Each lorry had a red flag flying from the cab.

Went round to Edwards’ with some books, then back to the Museum from 6-9.30.  Looked through a lot of maps.  Curious that although the Fens are remarkably well mapped, there seems to be no plan of Wisbech prior to that by Wood in 1830.

To bed at 10.30.  Old Doble says that he hears from various people that the rocket attacks on London are now very bad indeed, and keep up intermittently day and night.

Am beginning to dislike Mrs. Shepherd very intensely.  She is incredibly rude, although allowance must be made for local manners, of course.

Thick tonight.  No ‘planes.

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