6April 1941. Up at dawn, cold, tired, dirty, and fed up. Why don't we face the issue and stop and do some fighting? The yarns we hear about other sections panicking and destroying their equipment are amazing - an incredible state of chaos seems to exist in some units and some of their leaders are mainly responsible. We found a dog biscuit and about one third of a cup of crook tea each, and breakfasted and flew off to El Gazala - Tmimi has been washed out and Gazala is further on. Arrived at Gazala early and threw ourselves down on the ground and tried to get some sleep - no shade, just blazing sun. Our convoy started to roll in and the cooks combined lunch and breakfast for us at about 11 a.m. I was too tired to attend and as Giorgio had turned up, got him to open some of the tinned fruit from home.

A couple more lorries were smashed up last night - our transport drivers are just about done in. They have been driving all night and every night for days. We got a sitrep (situation report) from the army and they advised that Mort Edwards had been picked up uninjured but his plane had been destroyed, good news.

The CO decided to try and reorganise a bit today, no patrols thank goodness. We are all done in and dog-tired - have reached the stage of being nearly too tired to sleep. Communications are in a state of chaos - we can get no definite information re our army's movements and fights.

Three brigades, Scottish, English, and Australian, faced the Huns on the escarpment near Benina, the English being in the middle, and they just packed up and fled, leaving the Scots and Australians, who fought bitterly but the Huns punched through where the English had retreated and surrounded them. There is an Aussie battalion somewhere right out in front and cut off, who won't give in and are fighting to the finish. I am sure if we had all stood firm and faced the issue with the Huns we would have held him, in spite of his superior numbers. The Aussie psychology is to do or die and we are no good at retreats. This is another Dunkirk, only on a smaller scale.

Joy of joys, we are all to have a swim this afternoon. We are only about three miles from Musso's Lake [Mediterranean Sea]. Last night our road convoy passed, between Derna and Truirni, a string of burning transports that had been ground-strafed by the eight ME110s that attacked Derna yesterday. It appears that there were nine ME110s when they passed over Tmirni heading for Derna and they encountered three of our night bombers, Wimpeys, who had a smack at them. I don't know what happened, but only eight ME110s got to Derna.

The whole squadron had a marvellous swim and didn't we revel in it, we all feel new men and fit for anything but still very tired. We may have to shift again tomorrow, further back, so goodness knows what would have happened to us if we had gone back to Maraua as instructed by HQ, and goodness knows what has happened to 6 Squadron RAF who went back.

Heard tonight I'm to go hack for a rest with two others and to take crocks (Hurricanes u/s for operations) back to Aboukir for repair. I am now feeling as fit as a fiddle and didn't want to go and don't want to miss the next few days, which may turn out to be mighty interesting. The CO insists I go back for three days' clear rest. Tried to get my pay book or some cash but everything is so disorganised that I couldn't get either.

Got word that the Huns were nearly at Tmimi a few miles from here (Gazala), and we had to move all the transport immediately to the other side of Tobruk near Gambut, one of our old ALGs, so the poor troops packed up and moved off. We slept under the stars again. I heard tonight that a small German patrol had been captured near Acroma, between here (Gazala) and Tobruk, and one of Germans was in a British uniform. They found out he had spent the night in Tobruk picking up information. I hope they shot him and not just kissed him and interned him, as they now seem to do. Heard also that a German recce kite flew over El Adem today and a few minutes later they saw a huge cloud of black smoke ~ up in the west and went out and found a crew of six (including a German count) standing by the aircraft, but they wouldn't say what had happened. They are always arrogant and insolent and won't talk. They are exceedingly well drilled in security and we don't get much information out of them.

7 April 1941. Our aircraft are to operate from Gazala this morning, up to 10 am. A big battle is expected at Mechili and we are to do an open patrol over the area all day, landing after 10 am back on the other side of Tobruk to refuel. Prim is remaining with the ground party as usual - he will end up being captured, most likely.

I pushed off for Aboukir and got as far as Matruh and landed there (with a flat tyre) in a raging dust storm to refuel. No equipment available at Matruh so stayed the night in an English transit camp. The English are queer birds: when we first came into the desert we used Egyptian stamps and when we crossed into Libya we were issued with English stamps, and then when we got to Benina we could only get Aussie stamps, so I put those on a parcel to send to you, Betty, but the English army post office wouldn't take it unless I put on English stamps - marvellous cooperation! You would almost think they were fighting us. Again, at Matruh, when I asked for accommodation at an English transit camp, the major in charge said, "Oh, there is an Australian unit somewhere about, see them. We can't break a rule and accommodate Australians". Anyway, it turned out the Aussies had left, so I went back and eventually, with not very good grace, they put me up. Queer birds, one would almost think we are fighting different wars.

It appears that this morning our chaps went off on a patrol and, as arranged, the second partol off had to land the other side of Tobruk at a ground we were to share with 73 Squadron. Lindsay Knowles couldn't make it for fuel and landed back at Gazala to find everybody had left, and he struck some army chaps who said the Huns were hot on their tracks and he had better burn his Hurricane and go with them, which he did. Meanwhile, our blokes had sent a truck back with a volunteer crew to refuel Lindsay at Gazala. They struck some army chaps who tried to stop them going any further. Anyway, they refused to be stopped and pushed on only to find a burnt-out Hurricane and Knowles gone and, what's more, no Huns!

1. See the other fellow first, it's 80% of the battle, and maintain a ceaseless watch,