The leave zipped right by. We were so terrifically glad to be back to our own little section of the trench, with all its happy memories, that we wouldnt have traded places with anybody. The lazy bastard whod filled in while we were away hadnt managed to nibble away so much as an inch of garden soil in the direction of Berlin.We found out that Brugnon hadnt come back from leave. Hed hanged himself in the stairwell of his building, on rue des Gtines. He left a note to say he couldnt take it any more and asked us to count him out. We accepted it Who were we to judge?
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Themes
- War — Reflections on conflict, peace, and the human cost of war