Woke up after a good sleep to find the ship rolling a bit. We have all got to lend a hand looking after the mules, mine are in No 1 hatch forward, No 2 deck. All the mules are from Romsey Remount Camp.
Everyone seems a bit off colour today, especially poor old Bradley. Went through the men’s mess decks after midday stables and found nearly all the men in various stages of sea sickness.
3 p.m. Several of the A.S.C. officers succumbed but the gunners still holding their own, a very nasty swell and roll and I am afraid Bradley won’t last much longer. At present we are two hundred miles from Avonmouth and 1063 from Gibraltar. It is a great comfort to see our escort (1 destroyer) hovering around us all the time, though having a rough time of it.
4 p.m. Went and saw to the mules being fed, very few of the men managed to turn up. Poor old Bradley succumbed at last, went at fetched him out for a cup of tea but he couldn’t hold onto it for long.
Our escort has deserted us but I hear we are to be picked up by a French cruiser during the night. Feeling quite lively still, though too long in the mules quarters would finish me. We shall be in the Bay sometime tonight so shall turn in before we get there.