This week has gone by very quickly & is now a month of this night’s job has passed. If only there was more to do, the time would not be so irksome. For 2 nights I was shifted down again to the medical wards, but I got nurse Skinner to say a word to night Sister & now I am back again in Ward 3. In this hospital we nurses seem to be able to arrange a good deal ourselves as to where we go. The matron is very easy going & lets us do what we like. In some ways this is not a good thing, as she does not uphold the authority of the sisters. In fact the whole thing is quite different from an ordinary hospital.

The results of last Sunday’s sleep was that now I can sleep quite well by day.

The position of affairs still remains the same & the war drags on. Lloyd George, as Minister of Munitions, is determined to see to it that our ammunition does not fail us. In fact the whole issue of the war depends not so much on men, as munitions. One of the men on the wards told me the other day that we have more men out there than we can do with, but it is more shells we want. The factories must be kept going at all costs & strikes must be stopped. If only we could force the Dardanelles & so get more ammunition to Russia, then perhaps matters might look more cheery.

Heard again from Agnes. Ruth is better but by no means well yet. She had not heard of Mrs Cardwell’s death, but mentioned a letter from Una saying there was no hope.