Item 01: Henry Weston Pryce diary, May 1916-ca. 1918 - Page 110
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Transcription
[Page 110]
Lately I'm beginning to remember some items very faintly, like impressions of a dream - or are they dreams? Falling for a year through a black cloud full of hard things & red flames - laughing & swearing at the fool that shoved me in a hole & tipped rubbish on me - crawling or trying to do same over people that wouldn't get out of the road & using some malevolent language - then being picked up by an M.O. - where that idea comes from how knows for it couldnt be.
Worrying over eighteen pounders and feeling relieved when told they were OK.
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