Wednesday. May 29th. Shut in our rooms all day, so stopped in bed until 11. Got up and wrote my diary up to date. Had toothache rather badly as I had it most of last week. Shan’t be able to get the brute lugged out until I get to a permanent camp, probably not for two or three weeks. οἴ μοι. Alack a day, and woe is me!! Finished ‘Westward Ho!’ today, a topping book. Started on ‘Old Gorgon Graham’, following on ‘Letters of a Self Made Merchant to his son’. Jolly good book.
4 p.m. Toothache a bit better. Three biscuits each bought from a neighbouring French camp; likewise 8 nobs (K-nobs) of sugar each; moreover the promise of an increased bread ration. Verily the world seems very fair tonight. The prophet truly said <He that goeth upon a lean stomach vieweth the world through jaundiced eyes.> Sent a postcard off home today. (Sent a message to G.P. on the 25th).