Up rather late, after 9 hours
continuous deep sleep, without a dream.
Cloudy and warm. Busy morning,
many visitors. Went on the market to see
various people this afternoon. An alarm
as I was walking past the post office at 3 o’clock. Cycled round to Clark’s Meadow, and heard the
thing thumping away to the NW, above the clouds. A dull, distant crash, and ‘all clear’.
Suddenly thought to buy some
flowers for Molly Blomfield, put them on the seat of her car which was standing
in Sir Isaac’s Walk. Shortly after ran
into Ald. Sam Blomfield, and talked about the Museum and Poulter. He promised to speak to Poulter, and see what could
be done.
Went round to the Library to see
newspapers, and when coming out looked into the old graveyard of St Runwald’s,
and saw the tombstones of so many of our leading citizens.
Cycled out through Boxted to
Higham. Saw the damage to the cottage
and the Post Office caused by the flying bomb on Wednesday evening. Not very serious, mostly broken windows.
At Higham Jacquie was running
about the garden with Susan her little dog, her hair flying loose,
looking wonderfully well and happy. Told
her I hoped to go to Scotland if I get some leave next month, so she wrote a
letter to some very good friends of hers, called Biggam, saying I will call on
them. Stayed talking until nearly
midnight. Tremendous firing at 9 o’clock
and again just before 12, but a long way off.
Went to the Post, by way of the
Marsh Lane and Langham Waterworks. Got
in at 10 to 1. Dull watch. No ‘divers’ and only two ‘planes over the
whole night. Stars twinkling through the
thin haze. Deep silence but for the
sleepy chirp of birds. Several hours
talk on the Nature of God.
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