We had a Celebration this morning in the little “Church” hut here. There were seven of us in all – it would be full with twice that number. Services are very regular now-a days and one need never be more than a fortnight without a celebration – sometimes there is one every Sunday. Our present abode, a sort of forward rest-billets – not the real rest that comes every three weeks – is in a little battered village. We ourselves are in the local seminary for young ladies run by some nunnish sect – all of them long departed. One wing is conspicuous chiefly for its absence, and our wing has needed considerable repairs – sandbagging etc. to make it more or less habitable. I wonder what the austere Mother Superior would think of our mural decorations, cuttings form Tatlers, Sketches, Punch etc: I am sure the young ladies would be horribly shocked.
Wollaston has gone off today to the Army School for a 5 weeks course of instruction in soldiering – It is a good scheme for an officer who is making this amusing game his profession. I daresay he will get a staff job when he returns.