Tuesday. Dec 3. Went for a walk with Miller into the town. Thought it would be interesting to look at the price of some feminine articles of apparel. The average felt, velours or plush hat, plain and untrimmed cost between 60 and 80 marks. A jolly decent looking silk (or satin) blouse with lace insertion cost 148 marks. A jolly rotten imitation black fur coat cost 425 marks.
Everyone unbelievably fed up. It appears probable that we get away next Monday, but nothing is definite. Unofficially I hear that we should have gone tomorrow, but something happened to the ruddy boat and it had to put back for repairs.
We are getting quite short of food again and the matter is looking a bit serious, especially if we don’t get away as expected.
The General, who seems to have taken exceptional leave of his senses, has sold practically all our reserve of bread and biscuits to the Germans. (the money to go to the Red Cross.) Later, no, he has given it away.
Our hero will now go to bed.
By the bye, I frequently announce to my mess some such remark as ‹our hero will now shave›
to which Gerson ‹no, not yet, my hands are dirty›
and Miller ‹no, I shaved immediately after breakfast›