D: Diary Four

Dear Diary,

It's been so long since I opened your lovely covers. And now here I am
somewhere else! Gosh, what a surprise to discover that I never went to
the Isle of Wight, that Big Eric was only Wozza in disguise! How we all
laughed! Well, I had to, didn't I? What a wizard prank! The chaps
really had me going. It reminded me of my days with the 4th Indian
Lancers when we rounded up hordes of tigers on hunting trips, beat off
lunging marauders at every turn and still got home in time for tiffin
and a spot of practical joking! I picked up a few medals on that
campaign, I can tell you. A bit like my time in the Falklands - but
then you know all about that.

Well now I really am somewhere else. It's called Wayland and it's in
Norfolk. I am FF8282 which is rather a special number I'm sure and I'm
in a Category C place. C is for Chirpy, Chuffing Great and Chipper -
all words that describe me.

I used to know a chap called Wayland. He was bit of a bounder - always
after the ladies if I recall - but he didn't stand a chance when a big
handsome fella like me came along so we drifted apart.

Now let me tell you about my normal day. I rise just before 8 o'clock
and do my ablutions. I have a room to myself and it's really very nice,
funny bars on the window, but I'm told that soon I'll have all the
trappings. Just what that means I'm not too sure.

8.15 and a man-servant type comes along and I go to take my early day
repast. Very good it is too. The man at the counter calls me 'ducks'
which is a bit odd but he always gives me an extra egg and winks.

After that I go to my work. That involves telling all the people here
how to write. It's jolly fun but I'm not sure they're listening. One of
them told me the other day that I was a right fantasist and I thanked
him for the compliment.

I also do a spot of gardening to help them out. I tell them what to do
and they all do it. Yesterday they put me in the potting shed but it
was all just a jolly prank. They say they'll stick me in the pond
today. Male bonding! It just goes to show what a jolly popular guy I
am.

I'm back in my room later on, then out again for more food, then back
in the room, then back out again for more grub and then in again. It's
all go, I can tell you!

There's some super chaps here. I've met up with one chappie called
'Enry who tells me all the time that he was "Reggie's Chum, know what I
mean?"

Well, I didn't, so I said so and he just said I'd soon find out. Reggie
who? I ask. Reggie Bosanquet? Will he send me a case of 'poo? I jolly
hope so.

The showers are terrific. Everyone gets in and we all wash together.
'Enry says he likes to play 'hide the soap' but I don't seem to have
got the hang of that game yet.

I'm still settling in and I think it's all going terribly well. I'll
soon have all these chaps singing songs around the campfire and all
that sort of thing.

I hear my old Editor has been singing my praises out there. Thanks, old
chap! Something about a bare smidgeon of grammar and a loose hold of
plot - just the job! What do you think I paid him for?

Mary's coming to see me soon, I think. Still got to get to the bottom
of that honey for tea thinggie.

Must go now got to get on with my autobiography. My last sentence was:
"Margaret always said I should do her job, I seem to know the answers
to everything." Quite right too.

Cheerio for now,
Jeffrey.