Still no evacuation. Depressed and lonely, and perpetually
cold. Porridge worse. Bacon quite bad. Only one of the men round me who eat it but
so hungry.
Lunch: dog biscuit and cheese and apricot
jam.
Tea: biscuit and cheese.
100 men went off. Lay thinking of breaker tomorrow, praying
that bacon would be good and porridge thicker.
10 o’clock: woken up and told to get ready
for evacuation.
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