Tuesday
Cold, with bitter wind. Had a fire in the office. Miss Thompson furious. Dealt with an accumulation of letters and
sent out the notices for the Annual Meeting.
Papers full of gloating accounts (with photographs) of the murder of
Mussolini and his woman.
Sub-Committee, Levers, old
Edwards, and Wolton, to consider whether surplus fiction ought to be offered to
the County Library
Wrote to Ann, and suggested going
in June, cannot manage to get away this month.
Wrote to Cyril Fox about the Mithraeum iron shackles.
After tea went down to the
Vicarage paddock. The trench has cut
through the mound near the S. boundary of the field, and reveals that there
is a large dyke on the other side.
Nothing but late 17C sherds thrown up so far, a few meat-bones. The mound is very fragmentary, and seems to
run more or less parallel with the field boundary without any signs of returns.
Tonight called at the
Swifts’. Mr and Mrs Jewson were
there. He was in civilian clothes and
looked very well. Said that all prison
camps had secret radios (there were three in his) which were dismantled and the
parts carried by numbers of men when the camps were moved. On these radios instructions were received
from “secret sources”, he said, but did not seem very willing to say what the
instructions were. Nothing, we hope,
against the Geneva Convention.
Listening to the radio tonight at
10.30, there came the sudden news that Hitler is dead. So both the leaders are gone, two men in
large part responsible for the most appalling misery known in the world. Hitler is thought to have
committed suicide, but the facts are still obscure. At 11p.m. came the news that Admiral Donitz
at Flensburg
has declared himself “Fuhrer”.
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