- Whit Monday May 29, 1944
It is hotter than ever. The B.B.C. reports temperatures of 96 degrees in the Straights of Dover.
- Whit Tuesday May 30, 1944
Still hellishly hot. The B.B.C. reports temperatures in the shade at Dover, 79 degrees. The R.A.F. is out all day and all night just the same; day flying planes return so hot that ground crews have to spray them with water before they can touch them. This heat is making me feel downright sick, as well as being bad for my legs. It makes me feel cross also. Damn rotten world.
- Thursday June 1, 1944
I am getting merely overcome with boredom and fatigue. After we were abed last night, about midnight, there was such a clatter in the heavens sleep was impossible. For a couple of hours without pause, planes flew over, our planes going to bomb France and Germany. Their noise was incessant; thousands of them must have passed over. Ted fell asleep, but I couldn’t sleep. In fact, I didn’t know how to endure. I had to put compulsion on myself not to start shouting and screaming. I was afraid I was going mad with the madness of the world. The sheer stupidity of the war, apart from its horror, is getting me down. Oh, it’s awful! What can one do?
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