Monday, 23 February 2015

Tuesday 23rd February 1915

Poached eggs on toast, bed. Rose 11am. Played piano. Read papers; one or two small steamers sunk. Slept a little.
Evening went down town. Bought knife in market, 10/6. Good one.
Went to Electra. Good picture, “Playing with fire”. Whoever plays with fire, whether guilty or guiltless, will suffer the pain of burn.
Easily dropped back into civilian life. Conscription would be a curse; it would take away true freedom and in time ruin that freedom which is an Englishman’s pride. We are a race of sportsmen, and as such we can even hunt men. Proud am I of my country, of the land that gave me birth; for her have I turned to a harsh life. Tis the rational egoism which helps us to remain – rulers of the world.

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