17 Nov 1918: Graudenz

Sunday. Nov 17th.     Just 8 months since I left home coming back from leave, Sunday St Patrick’s Day.

The members of this camp and our hero in particular are feeling rather fed up today.  The first rumour was that we were leaving here today, the next Tuesday, the next Wednesday; last night we had it officially that we would not be leaving for at least 8 days if then.  Doesn’t sound very long I know, but at the end of 8 months (and such an 8 months) it seems interminable ages.

The camp is surrounded by hordes of school boys and girls and several grown ups and some Russians yelling England and Tommy &c.  This starts about 7 in the morning and goes on till dark.  We are always throwing out biscuits and stuff to them, but we’re getting a bit fed up with the unceasing noise.  Sounds like the parrot house at the zoo.