Monday June 17th. Just three months since I left home coming from leave. Coleman, last night, engaged in a furious struggle with mary[?] absentmindedly poured the best part of a bottle of beer into his own bed.
16 June 1918
Sunday June 16th Heard rather a good one today. One of our observers, locked into a room with several infantry officers, was the recipient of an apology from a German Flying Officer, who was sorry that he had been ‘herded in with those people’. Wouldn’t the P.B.I. be pleased?
15 June 1918
Saturday June 15th. Saw a jet-black butterfly fly past. It declined to alight within the spacious confines of our lager; so I couldn’t see it at close quarters.
14 June 1918
Friday. June 14th Sent a letter-card home. Explained a better system of parcels to them.
13 June 1918
Thursday, June 13th. Got quite a shock today. Saw my name & Hanna’s in the paper (the Times) of May 4th [May 3rd], as ‘missing’. I should have thought that they would be bound to know at home before May 4th; for I sent a postcard to Geneva on April 14th – asking that a wire should be sent home to say I was safe.
12 June 1918
Wednesday, June 12th: Got a short lesson in Spanish from Camp Inspector, who speaks fluently English, French, Spanish and German. He repeated his promise to send me to the same camp as Hanna.
9 June 1918
Sunday. June 9th. Hallowed by the sight of Coleman, chased from the Shower Room by Harrington, charging round and round the enclosure in his bare pelt.
8 June 1918
Saturday. June 8th. Sent a letter-card home.
7 June 1918
Friday. June 7th Have not worn a cap since I was captured. Reckon to circumvent the barber who prophesied that I was going bald.
6 June 1918
Thursday. June 6th. Was very cheered yesterday by one of our party getting a reply from his people in answer to a letter of his, written on April 7th; and I wrote myself on April 14th from Hannover. Great expectations! Shall probably be moved from here though just before the letters catch me up.
Am generally known as <The Professor> by this crowd. The Camp inspector, when he first came, asked me if I were a Professor – and the name has stuck.
We can see from the window of our room on the first floor the path up the hill up which comes the two men carrying our lunch or dinner. There is always someone watching for them, and the ever-welcome cry goes up D.O.S.L. Dinner on Sky Line.
Won 7 marks at vingt et-un. Swapped it for a tin of peas.
Begin to realise fully, for the first time, the literal meaning of the expression <to make ones mouth water>.