Rumsey and I go out to dinner with a battleship, one Mrs Wall, and drink King George IV scotch. Next day we take her to a “pufaled” gymkhana (JDW: anyone know what this means?), which is pleasantly reminiscent of pre-war days with a band, and a musical ride by the Mysore Lancers. I get in some squash and 14 days leave approved by AOC after this exercise, but expect I shall get malaria instead. “Cheese” Gordon killed in Italy.
Here I sit in my office doing nothing. Smith (GIII Air Southern Army) shares my telephone. Weather warmer now but I don’t sleep too well despite my heavy squash and much walking from the Club to the West End, some 2 miles.
A Story of War 
I would imagine it is a musical gathering with ‘trick and formation riding, various jolly games, band playing’. See ‘Gymkhana’ on Wikipedia. In my youth it meant mounted games for youngsters, with the Pony Club but I daresay it was more sophisticated, with alcohol consumed, in my father’s day!