Arrived here after a three-hour solo session, in which I lost fourpence.
Went into the town, it's practically unbombed, and rather like any English country town, lovely; good Naafi, YMCA and black market.
We went to the flix and saw 'The Captive Heart' and cried at it's poignancy, then came out into the same German streets and bought marks with cigarettes.
Last night was a scream. We played in the Officers' Mess, and having been given Guinness, the B.M., the B.S.M., the Sergeant and the Q. went home, leaving eight gunners and one lance-jack to finish the champagne-cocktails.
Shortly after, one of the officers asked for more music. We held a council of war and agreed to play for half an hour, if they kept us supplied with drinks. I conducted!
Luckily, I was completely sober, having learned my lesson last Saturday, but the cellist and the flautist were hardly capable of playing, while the double bass was capable of anything.
We played a few selections and waltzes and finished up with the R.A. Slow March. I was then introduced to the Colonel and he thanked us most cordially and woozily for our little contribution.
And so to bed. Several other blokes in the block were drunk, and it took me ten minutes to persuade Downs that his bed was in another room.