Sunday, 16th July 1939 

The world has gone mad. Hundreds of blackshirts milling around in London today, and with all the posters tacked to the walls and lamp posts it was simply impossible not to know what was happening. Old Mosley at it again, droning on and on about the Empire, as though the Empire will last much longer!

I didn’t go in of course, but I did hear talk of the meeting later in a café, after I had abandoned hope of meeting Joyce and the girls. Polish rats, this and that, Jewish scum, blah blah blah. I am sure he is the most charismatic man in all the world, to have hoodwinked such a grand amount of Englishmen and women.

Perhaps we should go to war, if only to defeat this menacing, hate-filled discourse that has infected our country along with the continent.

Feeling the stirrings of patriotism even as I write. A most dangerous occurrence! Must be stamped out immediately, before I follow Joyce’s lead and sign up as a land girl. The near future plucking potatoes, back aching, sweat pouring, from some awful waterlogged field in farmer’s country?

Now I think on it – please avoid this war, Mr Chamberlain.

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