8th November 1942

Sunday

Lovely morning.  Up at 9.30, and went up to the buildings.  Fed Robin, and put in fresh straw.  The old horse-doctor, Simmonds, came to attend a sick horse up there, a very bad case of dermatitis.

Left at 7.30pm to go to Colchester on duty.  Lovely starlight night, a few searchlights weaving about.  One or two planes in the distance.  Called at home, and then got to the Oven at a quarter to 9.  The two other men were indignantly waiting for me to arrive, so that they would go over to the “Castle” pub.

7th November 1942

Saturday

Pouring this morning, rain in torrents.  However, no alarms.   

Cycled out to Lawford at 5 o’clock.  Still raining.  Hope that the new moon will bring better weather.

6th November 1942

Friday

Overcast, low clouds, high N.W. wind, and not a sign of a break anywhere. 

Caught the train to Chelmsford, taking cycle.  Just before we got to Chelmsford the siren burst out, and in 5 minutes there was nothing but a few fleecy white clouds sailing across a clear sky.  

Called at the “Horse and Groom”, [Roxwell Road] opposite Mothersole’s old house, and had a cider and some lunch.  The whole thing – meat and vegetables, pudding and custard, bread and cheese and cider, only came to 2/.

Spent the afternoon at Writtle.  

This evening writing, and doing two reports for Folkard.

4th November 1942

Wednesday

 There are posters all over the town advertising a meeting of the Communist Party.  Subject “Save Britain – by opening a Second Front Now.” 

3rd November 1942

Tuesday

Heavy rain, and strong N.W. wind, clouds ragged and low.  Did not feel very nervous though, even when the sirens sounded at 5 minutes to 8.  I heard guns to the East, but no bombs.  Cycled slowly in the rain, and heard all-clear about 8.15, then, faintly, another alarm about 8.30am.  There was no alarm at Colchester when I arrived.

Tonight rang Sir Ralph Harwood, but he said the tenement at Southfields was already let.  I would give anything to get a house for the old people out of the town.  My feeling of insecurity has increased since the Canterbury raid. 

Rain eased off a little tonight.

2nd November 1942

Monday

Dull, with sun coming through at intervals.  Went down to Wigborough with Nott.  We went to Abbot’s Wick, and he persuaded me to get up on one of Frank Warren’s horses, which I did.  It is years since I rode a big horse, and I enjoyed it immensely.  We went right up as far as Rockingham’s Farm, and I jumped a ditch in real style.  The water lies all over this heavy land, but the crops look well.  I noticed stretches had not been drilled at all.  This is due to using tractors with the drills, running them so fast that the man on the drill has no time to look after his seed.  There is a good deal of carelessness too, some stretches being drilled twice.  Coming back the mare nearly got away.  Abbot’s Wick looks more like a farm now than when I last saw it – cats about the place, horses in the stables, and bullocks in the yards.

This afternoon went out with Stanley Webb and Craig to see Sheepen Farm.  Once again I was struck with the appalling wickedness of the Town Council even agreeing to houses being built there.  I feel sure there must have been bribery and corruption to get it through.  The broom is spreading all over where the [Sheepen Farm Roman] Excavations were, some nearly 6 feet high.  Mr. Webb is determined that the whole place shall come under cultivation again.

Then we went down to Land Lane to see some fields belonging to Everett which are to be ploughed.  The town sill looks very fine from this quarter, with the old Roman Wall, St James’ Church, and all the towers and spires, but once again the town authorities do nothing to preserve it, and without doubt Everett will cover the whole place with houses as soon as he can.

1st November 1942

Sunday

Woke at 5, out at 8, a glorious sunny morning.  Went home for breakfast, and read in the paper that there had been a bad raid on Canterbury yesterday afternoon, at the very time when I was watching the RAF bombers go out.  Apparently 50 planes were used, and 9 were shot down.  I feared that the Germans would begin daylight raids, in return for those made by the RAF on French towns.  

It seems that about 30 people were killed at Canterbury, and many houses damaged.  It was market day, and the streets were full of country people about to go home.  How amazing that a thing like this can happen when we continually boast of the impregnable defences of Britain.

Clouds came up during the morning, and I was glad to get away to Lawford as soon as I could.  Checked several ploughing orders at Dedham.  One was just behind the church, a field which belongs to the parish, so I went down the footpath by the old Grammar School to see it.  Thought I would walk on and have a look at Southfields, where I found one of the tenements is empty.  At once I began to wonder if I could get it.  If I did, Father and Mother could come, and live here, and we could all live together again for a time.  The place belongs to Sir Ralph Harwood.  I shall make enquiries.

Mr. and Mrs. Chittenden to tea at Sherbourne Mill.  He used to be at Kew, and is a great botanical expert.  Much talk on plants, trees, bird life etc., about which I knew nothing.

Nobody spoke about the raid on Canterbury, and nobody seems to want to know any details.  Perhaps this is because any day it may be our own town.  

Finished reading Hector Bolitho's “War in the Strand”.  Bolitho must be a curious type, fascinated by fear and carnage.  I do not admire him, and only fear he has a good deal in common with myself.

Tonight I wrote a long, grumbling letter to Meg in Scotland.  I would give anything to have a whole month up there, right away from bombs, alarms, and War Agricultural Committees.

Heavy rain tonight.