Brilliant and hot, but not many ‘planes. Capt. Folkard went to Writtle. Had tea with Hervey Benham at Last’s. He now thinks the war will go on for many years as the invasion seems to be off.
This evening suddenly tempted to
go to a cinema. Rotten film, and wished
I had not. Felt sick afterwards.
Boxted at 10.30, and then sat up
writing, waiting for the moon. Annie’s
funeral tomorrow.
‘Planes going out in hundreds.
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