Friday 28 March 1941
Today we spent three warm periods on the Plain at FC (fieldcraft). My room-mate has gone into hospital with dysentery, half the Company are ill. Bearer feels a bit disconsolate; he gets no pay if anyone is in hospital[1]. Tests today at Morse and MR. Bought some ‘Flit’ [brand name of an insecticide]. Tonight my Bearer (he seems to confide in me) came and said that he had had INR1 pinched from his coat; he seemed rather glum and went on to tell me how, after his father, mother and brothers had died, he was very poor, he also said his child was in hospital. Well, I felt sorry for him and gave him INR2; he may be swindling me, but I hope not.
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