He wanted me to sit up with him, but General Smith insisted that I went back to bed, assuring me I was far too ill, and he kindly gave me an excellent cigarette.
Cockie is intrepid under fire even to the point of recklessness, but is also of the kind that feels pain tremendously. It is, I suppose, a matter of temperament and nerves.
This has released me from the river-front and I succeed to the command of the ammunition column, and am now running our mess.
Tudway, Square-Peg, and I are now alone here. We have a little potato meal and rice, and I have procured a tin of jam. I could not have two more generous companions with whom to share our last food.
March 23rd.—The servants won't sleep in that part of the building where the shells came, so we have vacated a room for them, and Square-Peg and I have moved below into the basement.
I saw Cockie this morning and heard him from afar.
Near him is an officer lying very still and white and quiet with his whole leg shattered, silent with the paralysis of extreme pain.
I assisted Cockie with letters and other things, and got away as quickly as I could, as I felt this other sufferer wanted silence.
March 24th.—Some shells fell in the town during the night, and once again the horses got it badly.
The 4·7-inch gun which was bombed by the plane is now under-water, as the river has risen five feet, the highest level during the siege.