Of Mice, Men and Archives

Ye gods, will this war never end? The barracks has been under attack from yet another army this past fortnight: a smaller furrier enemy than usual, viz a family of mice. I have heard them for several weeks scratching about behind several dozen ancient leather tomes but not - until last week - seen the buggers. Fortunately young Tim from the Catering Corps has had the foresight to use the old entrapment technique and the furry scoundrels have been gorging themselves on poison with the rather unfortunate result that they've been literally dying in front of me. I have had to make extensive use of the old Marigold gloves to catch the buggers by their tails and dispose of htem in a humane and environmentally friendly fasion.

Needless to say this state of affairs did not impress the delightful visiting WRENS from the London Metropolitan Archives who muttered something about 'suitable environments' and 'integrity of the collection'. Since when has anyone ever questioned the morals of a bundle of minute books and ledgers I ask?

Anyway that all went off fairly smoothly, but last night I had to vacate the place, as the Men from the Ministry (of Defence no less) had decided to hold an extremely Top Secret meeting in my library. Apparently they are having another go at the old Entente Cordiale and had arranged an assignation with various of their French counterparts. Just don't spill  Ribena on any of my books eh chaps or there will be hell to pay.