I arrange to take the gallant Iris to Rotterdam, but she rings up and leaves a message that she is sick. I am out at Hilversum trying to get a spare wheel for the jeep, which I do, and am desolated. So I have a few drinks at the Club, dinner with Betty and Bart, and am in bed by 9.30pm, but don’t sleep particularly well. Next evening I go round to the Van Bergers again, but they produce no women and I sulkily consume a bottle of rum with them. The fair Luki shows up, also her fiance, one Robert Van Gudder who was at Harrow the same term as I. Tonight I arrange myself a visit to Bill and Yvonne Wynberg, whether they like it or not, and tomorrow a return match with the Van Bergers, and only one bottle of rum left, so I don’t quite know how I shall spin it out. The gallant Iris is elusive all week, though she has contracted to go to a dance at the Valkenburg Mess on Saturday. However I can never get her alone at that sort of party, so that’s that.
I hope to nip over to London next week, but if we go over to Transport Command and W/C Pippett, I suppose I shall have had it – as I shall any day now, when I get orders to return to the Indian Army.