8 Feb 1942, Barbara Anslow's diary

Loathsome food pow-wow in morning ((In quadrangle of Married Quarters)).  I was ashamed of being there because it was all so bald and horrible. Angry and hungry people quarrelling about the rations and kitchen staff, and cooking. We had dumplings last night - delicious. Fried fish for the lucky ones, but I wasn't amongst them.

To church at 10am  (Mass in 'Prison Officers' Club).  This afternoon we battled our way (great wind) up to St Stephen's Hall to Benediction.  I didn't know the hymns, but thought sentimentally of Sunday evenings in England, sausage rolls, cheese straws, jam and currant tarts, tinned fruit – then going to Benediction and joining in processions, us children in short white frocks.  So homesick. I'm worried about Mum because she doesn't get enough to eat.

Mrs G getting annoyingly and monotonously argumentative, I'm running out of subjects to introduce as red herrings.