Monday
Fine, rather cold. Feel much better. Jupp full of rumours about the invasion – all
lorry and bus drivers are to be taken over to Europe with the army, together
with dock workers and two fifths of the Fire Brigade. Prophesies complete chaos all over the
country.
Strong wind this afternoon which
blew down part of the ruins of Moore and Roberts’ shop in St Botolphs
Street. Lorries are still at work on all
the ruined sites, and men are patching the holes burnt in the wood paving
blocks.
We discovered today that one of
the bus drivers employed to take Land Girls about has been running a taxi every
morning, not appearing with the bus until 9.30 or 10 o’clock. He is paid £4-10 by the bus company, £3-5 by
the Committee, and has been making £5 on the taxi. The firm’s contract has now been cancelled,
but no action is taken against the man.
News in the papers today that
Ireland is to be cut off from the rest of the world as a punishment for
refusing to enter the war on the side of the Allies. Papers full of tirades against “cowards” and
“traitors”. Fantastic figures published
of the numbers of Irishmen in the forces or in British industry. From today none of these people will be
allowed to return to their own country.
Tonight saw a vast convoy on the
Ipswich Road, quite a mile of vehicles.
It was very dark and beginning to rain when I was going down Gunhill,
the lorries moving slowly towards Suffolk.
Suddenly a motor cyclist skidded and was run into by the lorry just
behind him, his cycle sliding down the hill, giving up a great shower of
sparks.
Everybody began to run and
shout. Somebody called “Bring a
torch! A torch here quick!” I ran across, and saw the rider on his back
on the wet road, quite still, with the cycle partly on top of him. Black rain came down like steel rods, the
wind howled in the trees, the lights of the vehicles looked like huge stars.
An officer came, and a sergeant,
and they told the man to try to move his legs.
He groaned, and moved each leg very slowly. He was still holding a Sten gun in his
hand. More rushing about, and a stream
of meat lorries edged past, going down hill, brakes screaming. At last somebody suggested moving the soldier
onto the footpath, whereupon he said he thought he could stand. We heaved him up, and I held his right arm
over my shoulder, like we used to be taught in the Scout first-aid lectures 20
years ago, while a lieutenant took the other side. The man limped badly, but we got him onto the
path, and he said he felt better.
Left them, and went down to the
Talbooth, where I was at once attacked by two red setters who were loose in the
yard. Made me very angry.
Hear that Ellen Wilkinson, the
Labour MP, was in the town today, inspecting the Fire Brigades.
Collected my new cycle from
Langley’s. Seems a good one –
Raleigh. Makes me all the more
determined to go away. Considering going
to Shrewsbury late one night, and then going out to Mary Hulbert’s cottage near Yockleton.
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