It is frightfully hot for the time of year. Left by the mail at 1 o’clock. Arrived Peshawar 9 p.m., went to Dean’s Hotel. So here we are in Peshawar and Generals at last. My phlegmatic and unemotional wife is not in the least impressed with the grandeur of commanding the 1st Brigade in the 1st Division in India.
India is indeed a back number and a back-water. Here, in the 10th month of this terrific war the Government still grudges money to the Army. Machine–guns are an old pattern, the N.W.R. line on which we all depend is still single, the railway bridges are all dicky, and in Peshawar there is not one aeroplane or motor-bike.