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[Page 69]
Wednesday, 20.
Received letter from Miss G. stating that her father had died 28/8/16. It was a cold careless letter ---and or so it struck me. After all these years to miss seeing him! Another few weeks and I should have been there.
Thursday, 21.
I am moved from my bed in A. Ward---main room---to the little room in the same ward.
Friday, 22.
I am now allowed to get up. I am very weak. The right leg is especially weak and painful. I can only just crawl along---and of course cannot stand up straight.
Saturday, 23.
I learned (forget actual day) that I am booked to go back to Australia. My first feeling was one of acute disappointment, and somewhat of resentment to think I had to leave the "Great Work" without seeing and helping in the end. Then the feeling that though I was unfit for the heavier work that they could not give me some other to do. However---I realized that it was useless to trust the Military Authorities for the latter. The thoughts of home were sweet but I have always tried to keep them from me in a matter of this kind---because, well, they would absolutely overwhelm one's judgment and conscience, did one not form the habit of excluding them.
Monday, 25.
Day after day. One getd to feel that life is a poor thing. One sees nobody. In the evenings Rivers generally wheels me round while I "take off" Mrs. Turner. After "lights out" we (of the little den, McDougall, Armitage, Rivers and I) sing choruses, "The Soldier's Farewell", "Lindy Lu" and a few hymns. It seems to suit the other fellows---for they get weary---only I do not think they all suffer so acutely as I. I mean they are built differently, because they have