THE WAR YEARS.
0600 hours. Wednesday 24th April.
On watch again. God it's hot! Curse this lousy, lousy war. It's the waiting that's the worst part. If only they'd just come over the top and get it over and done with. Oh here it is! Breakfast!...How can you burn baked beans? I mean I don't expect Gordon Ramsey - who actually probably hasn't even been born yet, now I think about it, but I do expect your basic Delia - who probably is a little girl at this time. Mind you, sheís gone right down the nick if you ask me, opening tins of mince. I like mine fresh from Wilf's.
1100 hours. Later the same day.
Just got back from the Bazaar. God it's hot! Went with Taffy, Scotty, Shorty, Smudger and....errm...oh I don't know...Beaky, Mick and Tich. They got me to do all the bartering for them. Iíve always been good at bartering I have. Taffy says I could sell Eskim'os to the ice cream man. Which is a mark, I think, of the high esteem in which I'm held in. Had sausage sandwich.
1500 hours. Later the same day still.
Rehearsals for the new revue. God it's hot! A bit of friction trying to decide what to call the new show. Richard (who plays all the women's parts) wants to call it, 'Hello Fella's', but I think it should be something a bit more like 'Count Arthur Strong and Friends'. After all I am the leading man and the most, best well known of everyone. He does a good Mae West, Iíll give him that, but he should hold no sway when it comes to titles. Bacon roll.
1900 hours. Still later the same day still.
There's nothing really happening at this precise moment. God it's hot!
Asleep in bed. God it's hot!