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says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a brok... | No speaker | think----?" he asks. "Done for,"<|quote|>says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it sa... | boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for,"<|quote|>says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws h... | to the subject of the boots. "They would fit me perfectly. In these boots I get blister after blister. Do you think he will last till to-morrow after drill? If he passes out in the night, we know where the boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for,"<|quote|>says Müller emphatically. We go bac... | him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait outside. Müller returns to the subject of the boots. "They would fit me perfectl... | "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to come back in the morning. Müller talks of doing so too. He is thinking of the lace-up boots and means to be on the spot. Kemmerich groans. He is feverish. We get hold of an orderly outside and ask him to give Kemmerich a dose of morphia. He refuses. "If we were to give morphia t... | bed." Müller does so. Kemmerich starts on again about the watch. How can one calm him without making him suspicious? Müller reappears with a pair of airman's boots. They are fine English boots of soft, yellow leather which reach to the knee and lace all the way--they are things to be coveted. Müller is delighted a... | lies under a wire basket. The bed covering arches over it. I kick Müller on the shin, for he is just about to tell Kemmerich what the orderlies told us outside: that Kemmerich has lost his foot. The leg is amputated. He looks ghastly, yellow, and wan. In his face there are already the strained lines that we know so wel... | leave." Kemmerich nods. I cannot bear to look at his hands, they are like wax. Under the nails is the dirt of the trenches, it shows through blue-black like poison. It strikes me that these nails will continue to grow like long fantastic cellar-plants long after Kemmerich breathes no more. I see the picture before ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Damned shit, the damned shit!" | Kropp | broken and distracted face, stammers:<|quote|>"Damned shit, the damned shit!"</|quote|>We walk on for a | looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers:<|quote|>"Damned shit, the damned shit!"</|quote|>We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed | letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers:<|quote|>"Damned shit, the damned shit... | boots I get blister after blister. Do you think he will last till to-morrow after drill? If he passes out in the night, we know where the boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich'... | we would have to have tubs full----" "You only attend to officers properly," says Kropp viciously. I hastily intervene and give him a cigarette. He takes it. "Are you usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his h... | soles against his own clumsy boots and says: "Will you be taking them with you then, Franz?" We all three have the same thought; even if he should get better, he would be able to use only one--they are no use to him. But as things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them ... | seen them now hundreds of times. They are not so much lines as marks. Under the skin the life no longer pulses, it has already pressed out to the boundaries of the body. Death is working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-... | of morphia. He refuses. "If we were to give morphia to everyone we would have to have tubs full----" "You only attend to officers properly," says Kropp viciously. I hastily intervene and give him a cigarette. He takes it. "Are you usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, t... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. | No speaker | "Damned shit, the damned shit!"<|quote|>We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime.</|quote|>"What has Kantorek written to | broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!"<|quote|>We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime.</|quote|>"What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He | to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!"<|quote|>We walk on for a long ... | blister. Do you think he will last till to-morrow after drill? If he passes out in the night, we know where the boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. ... | tubs full----" "You only attend to officers properly," says Kropp viciously. I hastily intervene and give him a cigarette. He takes it. "Are you usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour... | boots and says: "Will you be taking them with you then, Franz?" We all three have the same thought; even if he should get better, he would be able to use only one--they are no use to him. But as things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't... | times. They are not so much lines as marks. Under the skin the life no longer pulses, it has already pressed out to the boundaries of the body. Death is working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-flesh with us and squattin... | a little more and then take our leave. "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to come back in the morning. Müller talks of doing so too. He is thinking of the lace-up boots and means to be on the spot. Kemmerich groans. He is feverish. We get hold of an orderly outside and ask him to give Kemmerich a dose of morphia. He... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"What has Kantorek written to you?" | Müller | man gets like that sometime.<|quote|>"What has Kantorek written to you?"</|quote|>Müller asks him. He laughs. | sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime.<|quote|>"What has Kantorek written to you?"</|quote|>Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth." | little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!" We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime.<|quote|>"What has Kantorek writ... | returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps... | usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait outside. Müller returns to the subject... | better, he would be able to use only one--they are no use to him. But as things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't you leave them with us?" Müller repeats. Kemmerich doesn't want to. They are his most prized possessions. "Well, we coul... | boundaries of the body. Death is working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-flesh with us and squatting in the shell-holes. He it is still and yet it is not he any longer. His features have become uncertain and faint, like... | cannot bear to look at his hands, they are like wax. Under the nails is the dirt of the trenches, it shows through blue-black like poison. It strikes me that these nails will continue to grow like long fantastic cellar-plants long after Kemmerich breathes no more. I see the picture before me. They twist themselves into... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Müller asks him. He laughs. | No speaker | has Kantorek written to you?"<|quote|>Müller asks him. He laughs.</|quote|>"We are the Iron Youth." | gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?"<|quote|>Müller asks him. He laughs.</|quote|>"We are the Iron Youth." We all three smile bitterly. | stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!" We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?"<|quote|>Müller asks him. He laughs... | "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him... | I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait outside. Müller returns to the subject of the boots. "They would fit me p... | use only one--they are no use to him. But as things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't you leave them with us?" Müller repeats. Kemmerich doesn't want to. They are his most prized possessions. "Well, we could exchange," suggests Müller... | working through from within. It already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-flesh with us and squatting in the shell-holes. He it is still and yet it is not he any longer. His features have become uncertain and faint, like a photographic plate on which tw... | continue to grow like long fantastic cellar-plants long after Kemmerich breathes no more. I see the picture before me. They twist themselves into corkscrews and grow and grow, and with them the hair on the decayed skull, just like grass in a good soil, just like grass, how can it be possible---- Müller leans over. "We ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"We are the Iron Youth." | Kropp | Müller asks him. He laughs.<|quote|>"We are the Iron Youth."</|quote|>We all three smile bitterly. | has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs.<|quote|>"We are the Iron Youth."</|quote|>We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad | looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!" We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs.<|quote|>"We are the Iron Youth."<... | We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers... | annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait outside. Müller returns to the subject of the boots. "They would fit me perfectly. In thes... | use to him. But as things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't you leave them with us?" Müller repeats. Kemmerich doesn't want to. They are his most prized possessions. "Well, we could exchange," suggests Müller again. "Out here one can ... | already has command in the eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-flesh with us and squatting in the shell-holes. He it is still and yet it is not he any longer. His features have become uncertain and faint, like a photographic plate on which two pictures have been taken. Even... | I tread on Müller's foot; reluctantly he puts the fine boots back again under the bed. We talk a little more and then take our leave. "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to come back in the morning. Müller talks of doing so too. He is thinking of the lace-up boots and means to be on the spot. Kemmerich groans. He is fe... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old folk. CHAPTER II It is strange to think that at home in th... | No speaker | "We are the Iron Youth."<|quote|>We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old folk. CHAPTER II It is st... | Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth."<|quote|>We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old f... | broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, the damned shit!" We walk on for a long time. Kropp has calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth."<|quote|>We all three smile bitter... | huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Suddenly little Kropp throws his cigarette away, stamps on it savagely, and looking round him with a broken and distracted face, stammers: "Damned shit, th... | so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait outside. Müller returns to the subject of the boots. "They would fit me perfectly. In these boots I get blister after b... | things are now it is a pity that they should stay here; the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't you leave them with us?" Müller repeats. Kemmerich doesn't want to. They are his most prized possessions. "Well, we could exchange," suggests Müller again. "Out here one can make some use of th... | eyes. Here lies our comrade, Kemmerich, who a little while ago was roasting horse-flesh with us and squatting in the shell-holes. He it is still and yet it is not he any longer. His features have become uncertain and faint, like a photographic plate on which two pictures have been taken. Even his voice sounds like ashe... | can one calm him without making him suspicious? Müller reappears with a pair of airman's boots. They are fine English boots of soft, yellow leather which reach to the knee and lace all the way--they are things to be coveted. Müller is delighted at the sight of them. He matches their soles against his own clumsy boots a... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Saul" | No speaker | beginning of a play called<|quote|>"Saul"</|quote|>and a bundle of poems. | writing table there lies the beginning of a play called<|quote|>"Saul"</|quote|>and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have | Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old folk. CHAPTER II It is strange to think that at home in the drawer of my writing table there lies the beginning of a play called<|quote|>"Saul"</|quote|>and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I hav... | he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth." We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none ... | passes out in the night, we know where the boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews ... | puts the fine boots back again under the bed. We talk a little more and then take our leave. "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to come back in the morning. Müller talks of doing so too. He is thinking of the lace-up boots and means to be on the spot. Kemmerich groans. He is feverish. We get hold of an orderly outsid... | him to the station. She wept continually, her face was bloated and swollen. Kemmerich felt embarrassed, for she was the least composed of all; she simply dissolved into fat and water. Then she caught sight of me and took hold of my arm again and again, and implored me to look after Franz out there. Indeed he did have a... | the orderlies will of course grab them as soon as he is dead. "Won't you leave them with us?" Müller repeats. Kemmerich doesn't want to. They are his most prized possessions. "Well, we could exchange," suggests Müller again. "Out here one can make some use of them." Still Kemmerich is not to be moved. I tread on Mül... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have worked over them--we all did something of the kind--but that has become so unreal to me that I cannot comprehend it any more. Our early life is cut off from the moment we came here, and that without our lifting a hand. We often try to look back on it and to find an expla... | No speaker | of a play called "Saul"<|quote|>and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have worked over them--we all did something of the kind--but that has become so unreal to me that I cannot comprehend it any more. Our early life is cut off from the moment we came here, and that without our lifting a hand. We often try to look... | table there lies the beginning of a play called "Saul"<|quote|>and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have worked over them--we all did something of the kind--but that has become so unreal to me that I cannot comprehend it any more. Our early life is cut off from the moment we came here, and that without our liftin... | Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of us more than twenty years old. But young? Youth? That is long ago. We are old folk. CHAPTER II It is strange to think that at home in the drawer of my writing table there lies the beginning of a play called "Saul"<|quote|>and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have worked over them-... | sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth." We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Iron Youth. Youth! We are none of ... | out in the night, we know where the boots----" Kropp returns. "Do you think----?" he asks. "Done for," says Müller emphatically. We go back to the huts. I think of the letter that I must write to-morrow to Kemmerich's mother. I am freezing. I could do with a tot of rum. Müller pulls up some grass and chews it. Su... | the fine boots back again under the bed. We talk a little more and then take our leave. "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to come back in the morning. Müller talks of doing so too. He is thinking of the lace-up boots and means to be on the spot. Kemmerich groans. He is feverish. We get hold of an orderly outside and... | to the station. She wept continually, her face was bloated and swollen. Kemmerich felt embarrassed, for she was the least composed of all; she simply dissolved into fat and water. Then she caught sight of me and took hold of my arm again and again, and implored me to look after Franz out there. Indeed he did have a fac... | him a cigarette. He takes it. "Are you usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He doesn't trust him and wants to see. We wait ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
All the older men are linked up with their previous life. They have wives, children, occupations, and interests, they have a background which is so strong that the war cannot obliterate it. We young men of twenty, however, have only our parents, and some, perhaps, a girl--that is not much, for at our age the influenc... | No speaker | Kantorek calls the "Iron Youth."<|quote|>All the older men are linked up with their previous life. They have wives, children, occupations, and interests, they have a background which is so strong that the war cannot obliterate it. We young men of twenty, however, have only our parents, and some, perhaps, a girl--that... | for all of us whom Kantorek calls the "Iron Youth."<|quote|>All the older men are linked up with their previous life. They have wives, children, occupations, and interests, they have a background which is so strong that the war cannot obliterate it. We young men of twenty, however, have only our parents, and some, pe... | and that without our lifting a hand. We often try to look back on it and to find an explanation, but never quite succeed. For us young men of twenty everything is extraordinarily vague, for Kropp, Müller, Leer, and me, for all of us whom Kantorek calls the "Iron Youth."<|quote|>All the older men are linked up with thei... | of a play called "Saul" and a bundle of poems. Many an evening I have worked over them--we all did something of the kind--but that has become so unreal to me that I cannot comprehend it any more. Our early life is cut off from the moment we came here, and that without our lifting a hand. We often try to look back on... | calmed himself; we understand: he sees red, out here every man gets like that sometime. "What has Kantorek written to you?" Müller asks him. He laughs. "We are the Iron Youth." We all three smile bitterly. Kropp rails: he is glad that he can speak. Yes, that's the way they think, these hundred thousand Kantoreks! Ir... | Kropp viciously. I hastily intervene and give him a cigarette. He takes it. "Are you usually allowed to give it, then?" I ask him. He is annoyed. "If you don't think so, then why do you ask?" I press a couple more cigarettes into his hand. "Do us the favour----" "Well, all right," he says. Kropp goes in with him. He... | says Kropp. "You would have had to wait at least three or four months for your leave." Kemmerich nods. I cannot bear to look at his hands, they are like wax. Under the nails is the dirt of the trenches, it shows through blue-black like poison. It strikes me that these nails will continue to grow like long fantastic ... | prized possessions. "Well, we could exchange," suggests Müller again. "Out here one can make some use of them." Still Kemmerich is not to be moved. I tread on Müller's foot; reluctantly he puts the fine boots back again under the bed. We talk a little more and then take our leave. "Cheerio, Franz." I promise him to c... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Prepare to advance, advance!" | No speaker | wet, newly ploughed field the<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance!"</|quote|>and the "Lie down!" until | to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance!"</|quote|>and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of | coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance!"</|quote|>and the ... | the Corporals' Mess with a tooth-brush. Kropp and I were given the job of clearing the barrack-square of snow with a hand-broom and a dust-pan, and we would have gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was... | waxed moustache, who had seen twelve years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have kneaded a pair of ... | a braided postman should have more authority over us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as... | as yet taken no root. The war swept us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a waste land. All the same, we are not of... | left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifogging details. We had fancied our task would be different, only to find we were to be trained for heroism as though we were circus-ponies. But we soon accustomed ourselves to it. We learned in fact that some part of these things was necessary, but the rest ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
and the | No speaker | the "Prepare to advance, advance!"<|quote|>and the</|quote|>"Lie down!" until I was | soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!"<|quote|>and the</|quote|>"Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and | result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!"<|quote|>and the</|quote|>"Lie down!" until I ... | a tooth-brush. Kropp and I were given the job of clearing the barrack-square of snow with a hand-broom and a dust-pan, and we would have gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate... | seen twelve years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have kneaded a pair of prehistoric boots that we... | have more authority over us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the... | root. The war swept us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a waste land. All the same, we are not often sad. * * Tho... | the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention, parade-marches, presenting arms, right wheel, left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifogging details. We had fancied our ta... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Lie down!" | No speaker | to advance, advance!" and the<|quote|>"Lie down!"</|quote|>until I was one lump | newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the<|quote|>"Lie down!"</|quote|>until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. | this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the<|quote|>"Lie down!"</|quote|>until I was one lu... | Kropp and I were given the job of clearing the barrack-square of snow with a hand-broom and a dust-pan, and we would have gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For s... | years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have kneaded a pair of prehistoric boots that were as hard a... | authority over us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest s... | war swept us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a waste land. All the same, we are not often sad. * * Though Müller... | scarce. * * Once it was different. When we went to the district-commandant to enlist, we were a class of twenty young men, many of whom proudly shaved for the first time before going to the barracks. We had no definite plans for our future. Our thoughts of a career and occupation were as yet of too unpractical a charac... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss wa... | No speaker | advance!" and the "Lie down!"<|quote|>until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an h... | field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!"<|quote|>until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost witho... | to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!"<|quote|>until I was one lump of mud and fina... | I were given the job of clearing the barrack-square of snow with a hand-broom and a dust-pan, and we would have gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks c... | and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have kneaded a pair of prehistoric boots that were as hard as iron for twe... | us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes... | us away. For the others, the older men, it is but an interruption. They are able to think beyond it. We, however, have been gripped by it and do not know what the end may be. We know only that in some strange and melancholy way we have become a waste land. All the same, we are not often sad. * * Though Müller would be ... | amongst Frisian fishermen, peasants, and labourers with whom we soon made friends. Kropp, Müller, Kemmerich, and I went to No. 9 platoon under Corporal Himmelstoss. He had the reputation of being the strictest disciplinarian in the camp, and was proud of it. He was a small undersized fellow with a foxy, waxed moustache... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"That means clink," | Himmelstoss | the limit had been reached.<|quote|>"That means clink,"</|quote|>he yelled. But Kropp had | his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached.<|quote|>"That means clink,"</|quote|>he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an | pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached.<|quote|>"That means clink,"</|quote|>he yelled. B... | discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstos... | ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave ... | gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle ... | learned that a bright button is weightier than four volumes of Schopenhauer. At first astonished, then embittered, and finally indifferent, we recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but th... | over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie dow... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. | No speaker | been reached. "That means clink,"<|quote|>he yelled. But Kropp had had enough.</|quote|>"There'll be an inquiry first," | raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink,"<|quote|>he yelled. But Kropp had had enough.</|quote|>"There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll | barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink,"<|quote|>he yelled. But Kropp had had enough.<... | a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished... | Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab i... | we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to... | bright button is weightier than four volumes of Schopenhauer. At first astonished, then embittered, and finally indifferent, we recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done ev... | at two o'clock in the morning because my drawers projected three inches beyond the edge of the stool on which one had to stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"There'll be an inquiry first," | Kropp | But Kropp had had enough.<|quote|>"There'll be an inquiry first,"</|quote|>he said, "and then we'll | "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough.<|quote|>"There'll be an inquiry first,"</|quote|>he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak | and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough.<|quote|>"There'll be an inquiry first,"</|quote|>he said, "... | and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He plan... | At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. Whe... | accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly plou... | of Schopenhauer. At first astonished, then embittered, and finally indifferent, we recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three... | the Corporals' Mess with a tooth-brush. Kropp and I were given the job of clearing the barrack-square of snow with a hand-broom and a dust-pan, and we would have gone on till we were frozen had not a lieutenant accidentally appeared who sent us off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
he said, | No speaker | "There'll be an inquiry first,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"and then we'll unload." "Mind | But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a | He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first,"<|quote|>he said,</|quote|>"and then we'll unload." ... | instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of u... | to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commande... | off, and hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance... | then embittered, and finally indifferent, we recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensib... | Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"and then we'll unload." | Kropp | an inquiry first," he said,<|quote|>"and then we'll unload."</|quote|>"Mind how you speak to | had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said,<|quote|>"and then we'll unload."</|quote|>"Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. | himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said,<|quote|>"and then we'll unload."</|quote|>"Mind how y... | physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked ho... | with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed... | hauled Himmelstoss over the coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance... | and finally indifferent, we recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a b... | With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kro... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" | Himmelstoss | said, "and then we'll unload."<|quote|>"Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!"</|quote|>bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost | be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload."<|quote|>"Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!"</|quote|>bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till | us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload."<|quote|>"Mind how you speak to a non-commissione... | at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ou... | a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he o... | coals. But the only result of this was to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until... | recognized that what matters is not the mind but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a braided postman should have m... | foxy, waxed moustache, who had seen twelve years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have kneaded a pa... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
bawled Himmelstoss. | No speaker | speak to a non-commissioned officer!"<|quote|>bawled Himmelstoss.</|quote|>"Have you lost your senses? | we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!"<|quote|>bawled Himmelstoss.</|quote|>"Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken | In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!"<|quote|>bawled Himmelstoss.</|q... | this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the b... | handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he under... | to make Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally coll... | but the boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a braided postman should have more authority over us than had formerly our p... | of prehistoric boots that were as hard as iron for twenty hours--with intervals of course--until they became as soft as butter and not even Himmelstoss could find anything more to do to them; under his orders I have scrubbed out the Corporals' Mess with a tooth-brush. Kropp and I were given the job of clearing the barr... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" | Himmelstoss | a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss.<|quote|>"Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?"</|quote|>"Show you up, Corporal," said | "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss.<|quote|>"Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?"</|quote|>"Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line | of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss.<|quote|>"Have you lo... | post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over hi... | one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmels... | Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. ... | boot brush, not intelligence but the system, not freedom but drill. We became soldiers with eagerness and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a braided postman should have more authority over us than had formerly our parents, ... | strictest disciplinarian in the camp, and was proud of it. He was a small undersized fellow with a foxy, waxed moustache, who had seen twelve years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen tim... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Show you up, Corporal," | Kropp | What will you do, anyway?"<|quote|>"Show you up, Corporal,"</|quote|>said Kropp, his thumbs in | wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?"<|quote|>"Show you up, Corporal,"</|quote|>said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of | had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?"<|quote|>"Show you... | latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled.... | I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master o... | for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and... | and enthusiasm, but they have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a braided postman should have more authority over us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we sa... | have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I h... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: | No speaker | anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal,"<|quote|>said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled:</|quote|>"You'll drink this!" --but it | to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal,"<|quote|>said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled:</|quote|>"You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his | means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal,"<|quote|>said Kro... | across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enoug... | that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and... | of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together... | have done everything to knock that out of us. After three weeks it was no longer incomprehensible to us that a braided postman should have more authority over us than had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conc... | with a foxy, waxed moustache, who had seen twelve years service and was in civil life a postman. He had a special dislike for Kropp, Tjaden, Westhus, and me, because he sensed a quiet defiance. I have remade his bed fourteen times in one morning. Each time he had some fault to find and pulled it to pieces. I have knead... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"You'll drink this!" | Himmelstoss | before he disappeared he growled:<|quote|>"You'll drink this!"</|quote|>--but it was the end | without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled:<|quote|>"You'll drink this!"</|quote|>--but it was the end of his authority. He tried | "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled:<|quote|>"You'll drink this!"</|quote|>... | of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your ... | told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better... | was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for ... | had formerly our parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, spring... | which one had to stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I be... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
--but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his | No speaker | he growled: "You'll drink this!"<|quote|>--but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his</|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance" and | word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!"<|quote|>--but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his</|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each | your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!"<|quote|>--but it was the end of hi... | tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. "That means clink," he yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wai... | ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One ... | of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest... | parents, our teachers, and the whole gamut of culture from Plato to Goethe. With our young, awakened eyes we saw that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention,... | time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together wi... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Prepare to advance, advance" | Himmelstoss | the ploughed field with his<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance"</|quote|>and "Lie down." We obeyed | it on once more in the ploughed field with his<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance"</|quote|>and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's | thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his<|quote|>"Prepare to advance, advance"</|quote|>and "... | yelled. But Kropp had had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line wit... | past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished u... | hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the ... | that the classical conception of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention, parade-marches, presenting arms, right wheel, left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifoggi... | displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrac... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
and | No speaker | his "Prepare to advance, advance"<|quote|>and</|quote|>"Lie down." We obeyed each | in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance"<|quote|>and</|quote|>"Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an | the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance"<|quote|>and</|quote|>"Lie down." We obeyed... | had enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his tro... | parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for goin... | Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courty... | of the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention, parade-marches, presenting arms, right wheel, left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifogging details. We had fancied our... | Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Lie down." | Himmelstoss | "Prepare to advance, advance" and<|quote|>"Lie down."</|quote|>We obeyed each order, since | the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and<|quote|>"Lie down."</|quote|>We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and | seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and<|quote|>"Lie down."</|quote|>We obeyed eac... | enough. "There'll be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trouser... | bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He... | with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my... | the Fatherland held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention, parade-marches, presenting arms, right wheel, left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifogging details. We had fancied our ta... | have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my shirt at two o'clock in the morning because my drawers projected three inches beyond the edge of the stool on which one had to stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-prac... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. Aft... | No speaker | advance, advance" and "Lie down."<|quote|>We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we h... | field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down."<|quote|>We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given anothe... | his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down."<|quote|>We obeyed each order, since an ... | be an inquiry first," he said, "and then we'll unload." "Mind how you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss sa... | strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted ... | Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my shirt at tw... | held by our teachers resolved itself here into a renunciation of personality such as one would not ask of the meanest servant--salutes, springing to attention, parade-marches, presenting arms, right wheel, left wheel, clicking the heels, insults, and a thousand pettifogging details. We had fancied our task would be dif... | a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention i... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Next time, Franz," | Paul | without once looking at him.<|quote|>"Next time, Franz,"</|quote|>I say. He raises himself | doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him.<|quote|>"Next time, Franz,"</|quote|>I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his | thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him.<|quote|>"Next time, Franz,"</|quote|>I sa... | us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * ... | could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, su... | "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the ... | Himmelstoss hate us more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. ... | the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. | No speaker | at him. "Next time, Franz,"<|quote|>I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows.</|quote|>"They have amputated my leg." | Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz,"<|quote|>I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows.</|quote|>"They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. | out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz,"<|quote|>I say. He raises himself on t... | not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Ke... | by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, piti... | your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his author... | more. For six weeks consecutively I did guard every Sunday and was hut-orderly for the same length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I h... | of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He knows it too then. I nod and answer: | No speaker | "They have amputated my leg."<|quote|>He knows it too then. I nod and answer:</|quote|>"You must be thankful you've | the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg."<|quote|>He knows it too then. I nod and answer:</|quote|>"You must be thankful you've come off with that." He | us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg."<|quote|>He knows it too then. I nod and ... | us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arriv... | to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we g... | Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, adv... | length of time. With full pack and rifle I have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. T... | his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped an... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"You must be thankful you've come off with that." | Paul | then. I nod and answer:<|quote|>"You must be thankful you've come off with that."</|quote|>He is silent. I resume: | leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer:<|quote|>"You must be thankful you've come off with that."</|quote|>He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both | arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer:<|quote|>"You must be thankful you've come off ... | was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are bei... | of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period ... | seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an... | have had to practise on a soft, wet, newly ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I h... | on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He is silent. I resume: | No speaker | you've come off with that."<|quote|>He is silent. I resume:</|quote|>"It might have been both | answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that."<|quote|>He is silent. I resume:</|quote|>"It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost | being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that."<|quote|>He is silent. I resume:</|quote... | sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's b... | of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone... | and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it... | ploughed field the "Prepare to advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost with... | displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrac... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." | Paul | He is silent. I resume:<|quote|>"It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."</|quote|>He looks at me. "Do | you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume:<|quote|>"It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."</|quote|>He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." | by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume:<|quote|>"It might have been both legs, Franz. We... | which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at h... | But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepa... | a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss ... | advance, advance!" and the "Lie down!" until I was one lump of mud and finally collapsed. Four hours later I had to report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an ... | fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He looks at me. | No speaker | you will be going home."<|quote|>He looks at me.</|quote|>"Do you think so?" "Of | arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."<|quote|>He looks at me.</|quote|>"Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" | "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."<|quote|>He looks at me.</|quote|>"Do you think s... | He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows i... | for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this... | on once more in the ploughed field with his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated... | report to Himmelstoss with my clothes scrubbed clean, my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the... | as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry for going out. He planted himself in front of us and asked how we liked the job. In spite of ourselves we tripped and emptied the bucket over his legs. He raved, but the limit had been reached. ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Of course." | Paul | me. "Do you think so?"<|quote|>"Of course."</|quote|>"Do you think so?" he | going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?"<|quote|>"Of course."</|quote|>"Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've | too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?"<|quote|>"Of course."</|quote|>"Do you think so?" he repe... | great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You mus... | us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awaken... | his "Prepare to advance, advance" and "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But bef... | my hands chafed and bleeding. Together with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of t... | on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and spry f... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
he repeats. | No speaker | course." "Do you think so?"<|quote|>he repeats.</|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you've got | "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?"<|quote|>he repeats.</|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons | "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?"<|quote|>he repeats.</|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you... | arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with tha... | trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practi... | "Lie down." We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was ... | with Kropp, Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my... | the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill thr... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." | Paul | you think so?" he repeats.<|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation."</|quote|>He beckons me to bend | think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats.<|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation."</|quote|>He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him | be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats.<|quote|>"Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the op... | the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is si... | this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esp... | We obeyed each order, since an order's an order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. Aft... | Westhus, and Tjaden I have stood at attention in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my shirt at tw... | our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the ma... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: | No speaker | you've got over the operation."<|quote|>He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers:</|quote|>"I don't think so." "Don't | he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation."<|quote|>He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers:</|quote|>"I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a | is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation."<|quote|>He beckons me to bend down. I sto... | selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been b... | certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field develop... | order and has to be obeyed. But we did it so slowly that Himmelstoss became desperate. Carefully we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed al... | in a hard frost without gloves for a quarter of an hour at a stretch, while Himmelstoss watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my shirt at two o'clock in the morning because my drawers pr... | he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard,... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." | Paul | whispers: "I don't think so."<|quote|>"Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that."</|quote|>He lifts one hand. "Look | stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so."<|quote|>"Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that."</|quote|>He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's | That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so."<|quote|>"Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of da... | He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."... | down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's ... | we went down on our knees, then on our hands, and so on; in the meantime, quite infuriated, he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were... | watched for the slightest movement of our bare fingers on the steel barrel of the rifle. I have run eight times from the top floor of the barracks down to the courtyard in my shirt at two o'clock in the morning because my drawers projected three inches beyond the edge of the stool on which one had to stack all one's th... | of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He lifts one hand. | No speaker | far worse things than that."<|quote|>He lifts one hand.</|quote|>"Look here though, these fingers." | leg? here they patch up far worse things than that."<|quote|>He lifts one hand.</|quote|>"Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the | you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that."<|quote|>He lifts one hand.</|quote|>"Look her... | come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to ... | us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor ... | begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long ... | down to the courtyard in my shirt at two o'clock in the morning because my drawers projected three inches beyond the edge of the stool on which one had to stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with ... | polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" | Paul | "Look here though, these fingers."<|quote|>"That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?"</|quote|>He points to a dish | that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers."<|quote|>"That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?"</|quote|>He points to a dish that is still half full. | bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers."<|quote|>"That's the result of the operati... | "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: ... | which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at h... | left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by be... | o'clock in the morning because my drawers projected three inches beyond the edge of the stool on which one had to stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy... | Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened i... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. | No speaker | they look after you properly?"<|quote|>He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited.</|quote|>"Franz, you must eat. Eating | soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?"<|quote|>He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited.</|quote|>"Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That | days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?"<|quote|>He points to a dish t... | home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amp... | bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He kn... | his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we ... | stack all one's things. Alongside me ran the corporal, Himmelstoss, and trod on my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriate... | howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trench... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." | Paul | half full. I get excited.<|quote|>"Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too."</|quote|>He turns away. After a | a dish that is still half full. I get excited.<|quote|>"Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too."</|quote|>He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I | patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited.<|quote|>"Franz, you must eat. Eating is the ... | think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He... | train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come of... | more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually die... | my bare toes. At bayonet-practice I had constantly to fight with Himmelstoss, I with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked... | you speak to a non-commissioned officer!" bawled Himmelstoss. "Have you lost your senses? You wait till you're spoken to. What will you do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: | No speaker | thing. That looks good too."<|quote|>He turns away. After a pause he says slowly:</|quote|>"I wanted to become a | eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too."<|quote|>He turns away. After a pause he says slowly:</|quote|>"I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may | though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too."<|quote|>He turns away. After a pause he ... | beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the o... | The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, ... | job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous... | with a heavy iron weapon whilst he had a handy wooden one with which he easily struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him... | with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches with... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"So you may still," | Paul | to become a head-forester once."<|quote|>"So you may still,"</|quote|>I assure him. "There are | he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once."<|quote|>"So you may still,"</|quote|>I assure him. "There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd | well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once."<|quote|>"So you may still,"</|quote|>I assure him. "... | "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after... | He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home."... | strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vic... | struck my arms till they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was ... | even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I assure him. | No speaker | once." "So you may still,"<|quote|>I assure him.</|quote|>"There are splendid artificial limbs | wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still,"<|quote|>I assure him.</|quote|>"There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there | look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still,"<|quote|>I assure him.</|quote|>"There are splendid a... | in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a... | the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do ... | Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was ... | they were black and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at hi... | do, anyway?" "Show you up, Corporal," said Kropp, his thumbs in line with the seams of his trousers. Himmelstoss saw what we meant and went off without saying a word. But before he disappeared he growled: "You'll drink this!" --but it was the end of his authority. He tried it on once more in the ploughed field with h... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements." | Paul | may still," I assure him.<|quote|>"There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements."</|quote|>For a while he lies | a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him.<|quote|>"There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements... | properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him.<|quote|>"There are splendid artificial limbs now, you... | of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, these fingers." "That's the result of the operation. Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that i... | his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "... | polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had... | and blue. Once, indeed, I became so infuriated that I ran at him blindly and gave him a mighty jab in the stomach and knocked him down. When he reported me the company commander laughed at him and told him he ought to keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. ... | he had given another command. But before we had even begun to sweat he was hoarse. After that he left us in peace. He did indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of th... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
For a while he lies still. Then he says: | No speaker | always be making new improvements."<|quote|>For a while he lies still. Then he says:</|quote|>"You can take my lace-up | hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements."<|quote|>For a while he lies still. Then he says:</|quote|>"You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." | "So you may still," I assure him. "There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements."<|quote|>For a while he lies ... | well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him. "There are splendi... | That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'l... | became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twen... | keep his eyes open; he understood Himmelstoss, and apparently was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as... | But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepa... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." | Paul | lies still. Then he says:<|quote|>"You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller."</|quote|>I nod and wonder what | improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says:<|quote|>"You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller."</|quote|>I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. | splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says:<|quote|>"You can take my lace-up b... | points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him. "There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there wa... | He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated ... | for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this... | was not displeased at his discomfiture. I became a past master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across th... | Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches without this pe... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken ... | No speaker | boots with you for Müller."<|quote|>I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself th... | "You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller."<|quote|>I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skel... | missing. They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says: "You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller."<|quote|>I nod and wonder what to say to encourage... | get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him. "There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything missing. They are fixed on to th... | "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than t... | we gone into the trenches without this period of training most of us would certainly have gone mad. Only thus were we prepared for what awaited us. We did not break down, but endured; our twenty years, which made many another thing so grievous, helped us in this. But by far the most important was that it awakened in us... | master on the parallel bars and strove to surpass my instructor at physical jerks;--we have trembled at the mere sound of his voice, but this runaway post-horse never got the better of us. One Sunday as Kropp and I were lugging a latrine-bucket on a pole across the barrack-yard, Himmelstoss came by, all polished up and... | sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being selected. The doctor passes by Kemmerich's bed without once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amput... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!" | No speaker | by this bed and say:<|quote|>"That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!"</|quote|>My thoughts become confused. This | whole world ought to pass by this bed and say:<|quote|>"That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!"</|quote|>My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene | carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say:<|quote|>"That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half ... | breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange mo... | thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he did it. Kantorek was pr... | Just eat decently and you'll soon be well again. Do they look after you properly?" He points to a dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may sti... | indeed always refer to us as swine, but there was, nevertheless, a certain respect in his tone. There were many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recru... | him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, it suffocates. It grows dark. Kemmerich's face changes colour, it lifts from the pillow and is so pale that it gleams. The mouth moves slightly. I draw near to him. He whispers: | No speaker | die. Let him not die!"<|quote|>My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, it suffocates. It grows dark. Kemmerich's face changes colour, it lifts from the pillow and is so pale that it gleams. The mouth moves slightly. I draw near to him. He whisper... | old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!"<|quote|>My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, it suffocates. It grows dark. Kemmerich's face changes colour, it lifts from the pillow and is so pale that it gleams. The mouth moves slightly. I draw ... | to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!"<|quote|>My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbol... | we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich l... | At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he did it. Kantorek was proud of him for it. But he couldn't endure cigarettes. His skin was very white; he had something of... | dish that is still half full. I get excited. "Franz, you must eat. Eating is the main thing. That looks good too." He turns away. After a pause he says slowly: "I wanted to become a head-forester once." "So you may still," I assure him. "There are splendid artificial limbs now, you'd hardly know there was anything m... | many other staff corporals, the majority of whom were more decent. But above all each of them wanted to keep his good job there at home as long as possible, and that he could do only by being strict with the recruits. Practically every conceivable polishing job in the entire camp fell to us and we often howled with rag... | once looking at him. "Next time, Franz," I say. He raises himself on the pillow with his elbows. "They have amputated my leg." He knows it too then. I nod and answer: "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I do not reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to... | No speaker | my watch, send it home----"<|quote|>I do not reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent of... | He whispers: "If you find my watch, send it home----"<|quote|>I do not reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If on... | and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, it suffocates. It grows dark. Kemmerich's face changes colour, it lifts from the pillow and is so pale that it gleams. The mouth moves slightly. I draw near to him. He whispers: "If you find my watch, send it home----"<|quote|>I do not reply. It is no use any more. N... | as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!" My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, ... | skin was very white; he had something of the girl about him. I glance at my boots. They are big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are ... | They are fixed on to the muscles. You can move the fingers and work and even write with an artificial hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says: "You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips h... | with rage. Many of us became ill through it; Wolf actually died of inflammation of the lung. But we would have felt ridiculous had we hauled down our colours. We became hard, suspicious, pitiless, vicious, tough--and that was good; for these attributes had been entirely lacking in us. Had we gone into the trenches with... | melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At s... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane... | Paul | though that could save him:<|quote|>"Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look... | and talk to him as though that could save him:<|quote|>"Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields i... | off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him:<|quote|>"Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at K... | is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and ... | a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!" My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, it suffocates. It grow... | In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizont... | it awakened in us a strong, practical sense of _esprit de corps_, which in the field developed into the finest thing that arose out of the war--comradeship. * * I sit by Kemmerich's bed. He is sinking steadily. Around us is a great commotion. A hospital train has arrived and the wounded fit to be moved are being select... | have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he did it. Kantorek was proud of him for it. But he couldn't endure cigarettes. His skin was very wh... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! | No speaker | piano if you want to."<|quote|>I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk!</|quote|>"But Franz" --I put my | you can even play the piano if you want to."<|quote|>I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk!</|quote|>"But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and | fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to."<|quote|>I lean down over his face which lies in t... | save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. An... | reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bo... | white; he had something of the girl about him. I glance at my boots. They are big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer sold... | "You must be thankful you've come off with that." He is silent. I resume: "It might have been both legs, Franz. Wegeler has lost his right arm. That's much worse. Besides, you will be going home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the ... | on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he did it. Kantorek was proud of him for it. But he couldn't endure cigarettes. His skin was very white; he had something of the girl about him. I glance at my boots. They are big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks wel... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"But Franz" | Paul | it with my foolish talk!<|quote|>"But Franz"</|quote|>--I put my arm round | mess I have made of it with my foolish talk!<|quote|>"But Franz"</|quote|>--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my | go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk!<|quote|>"But Franz"</|quote|>--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my ... | is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play ... | the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as thou... | great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. Wh... | home." He looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amp... | one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civili... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. | No speaker | my foolish talk! "But Franz"<|quote|>--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his.</|quote|>"Will you sleep now?" He | have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz"<|quote|>--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his.</|quote|>"Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears | without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz"<|quote|>--I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his... | loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the pia... | weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that c... | But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Ke... | looks at me. "Do you think so?" "Of course." "Do you think so?" he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg... | more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "Th... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Will you sleep now?" | Paul | put my face against his.<|quote|>"Will you sleep now?"</|quote|>He does not answer. The | arm round his shoulder and put my face against his.<|quote|>"Will you sleep now?"</|quote|>He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. | I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his.<|quote|>"Will you sleep now?"</|quote|>He does not answer. The tears run d... | fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shado... | were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at... | and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but ... | he repeats. "Sure, Franz. Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one ... | not the first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not... | No speaker | his. "Will you sleep now?"<|quote|>He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, ... | and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?"<|quote|>He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry o... | his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?"<|quote|>He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would lik... | look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, ... | Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the... | are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ough... | Once you've got over the operation." He beckons me to bend down. I stoop over him and he whispers: "I don't think so." "Don't talk rubbish, Franz, in a couple of days you'll see for yourself. What is it anyway--an amputated leg? here they patch up far worse things than that." He lifts one hand. "Look here though, th... | legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lie... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" | Paul | up, stumble outside and demand:<|quote|>"Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?"</|quote|>As I catch sight of | begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand:<|quote|>"Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?"</|quote|>As I catch sight of the white apron I seize | was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand:<|quote|>"Where is the doctor? Where is the doc... | speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for... | is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit te... | This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again.... | hand. And besides, they will always be making new improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says: "You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of... | to be so. When bathing Franz Kemmerich looked as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!" My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and g... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: | No speaker | doctor? Where is the doctor?"<|quote|>As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it:</|quote|>"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is | and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?"<|quote|>As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it:</|quote|>"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and | for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?"<|quote|>As I catch sight of the white apron I ... | sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who,... | mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement... | that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants th... | new improvements." For a while he lies still. Then he says: "You can take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges ... | as slight and frail as a child. There he lies now--but why? The whole world ought to pass by this bed and say: "That is Franz Kemmerich, nineteen and a half years old, he doesn't want to die. Let him not die!" My thoughts become confused. This atmosphere of carbolic and gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a thick gruel, ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." | Paul | I seize hold of it:<|quote|>"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."</|quote|>He frees himself and asks | sight of the white apron I seize hold of it:<|quote|>"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."</|quote|>He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which | of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it:<|quote|>"Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."</|quot... | now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a d... | put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to op... | woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could sav... | take my lace-up boots with you for Müller." I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working i... | we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: | No speaker | quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."<|quote|>He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by:</|quote|>"Which will that be?" He | seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."<|quote|>He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by:</|quote|>"Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." | from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying."<|quote|>He frees himself and asks an orderly ... | nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Su... | and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But... | must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will... | for Müller." I nod and wonder what to say to encourage him. His lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are al... | talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He says: | No speaker | by: "Which will that be?"<|quote|>He says:</|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh." He | and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?"<|quote|>He says:</|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know | begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?"<|quote|>He says:</|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh... | and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and ... | answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mothe... | and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you... | lips have fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the... | in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Bed 26, amputated thigh." | An orderly | will that be?" He says:<|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh."</|quote|>He sniffs: "How should I | an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says:<|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh."</|quote|>He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've | gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says:<|quote|>"Bed 26, amputated thigh."</|quote|>He snif... | parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Whe... | tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his bro... | with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can loo... | fallen away, his mouth has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first tha... | temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at home to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, ap... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
He sniffs: | No speaker | says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh."<|quote|>He sniffs:</|quote|>"How should I know anything | "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh."<|quote|>He sniffs:</|quote|>"How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five | stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh."<|quote|>He sniffs:</|quote|>"How should I k... | have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? W... | cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. ... | One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window ac... | has become larger, his teeth stick out and look as though they were made of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first that I have seen thus; but... | to whom I must write. If only the letter were sent off already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhap... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly | No speaker | I've amputated five legs to-day"<|quote|>; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly</|quote|>"You see to it," and | I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day"<|quote|>; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly</|quote|>"You see to it," and runs off to the operating | catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day"<|quote|>; he shoves me away, says to th... | mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it... | An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with ... | You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest t... | of chalk. The flesh melts, the forehead bulges more prominently, the cheek-bones protrude. The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have cop... | wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all tha... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
and runs off to the operating room. I tremble with rage as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says: | No speaker | hospital-orderly "You see to it,"<|quote|>and runs off to the operating room. I tremble with rage as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says:</|quote|>"One operation after another since | me away, says to the hospital-orderly "You see to it,"<|quote|>and runs off to the operating room. I tremble with rage as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says:</|quote|>"One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You | Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day" ; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly "You see to it,"<|quote|>and runs off to the operatin... | held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks... | he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him.... | over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the field... | The skeleton is working itself through. The eyes are already sunken in. In a couple of hours it will be over. He is not the first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He wa... | comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fie... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" | An orderly | looks at me and says:<|quote|>"One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----"</|quote|>I become faint, all at | with the orderly. The man looks at me and says:<|quote|>"One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----"</|quote|>I become faint, all at once I cannot do any | "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day" ; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly "You see to it," and runs off to the operating room. I tremble with rage as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says:<|quote|>"One operation after another since five o'clock this m... | and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amput... | does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who c... | Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build ... | first that I have seen thus; but we grew up together and that always makes it a bit different. I have copied his essays. At school he used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he ... | mouth moves slightly. I draw near to him. He whispers: "If you find my watch, send it home----" I do not reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this mouth that is now merely a slit, this sharp nose! And the fat, weeping woman at... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. | No speaker | will probably be twenty altogether----"<|quote|>I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons... | deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----"<|quote|>I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are ha... | off to the operating room. I tremble with rage as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----"<|quote|>I become fain... | is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day" ; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly "You see to it," and runs off to the operating room. I tremble with ... | life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he colla... | now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean ... | used to wear a brown coat with a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the only one of us, too, who could do the giant's turn on the horizontal bar. His hair flew in his face like silk when he did it. Kantorek was proud of him for it. But he couldn't endure cigarettes. His skin was very white; he had something of the girl abo... | face changes colour, it lifts from the pillow and is so pale that it gleams. The mouth moves slightly. I draw near to him. He whispers: "If you find my watch, send it home----" I do not reply. It is no use any more. No one can console him. I am wretched with helplessness. This forehead with its hollow temples, this... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Are you taking his things with you?" | An orderly | pokes me in the ribs.<|quote|>"Are you taking his things with you?"</|quote|>I nod. He goes on: | old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs.<|quote|>"Are you taking his things with you?"</|quote|>I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away | won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs.<|quote|>"Are you taking his things with you?"</|quote|>I nod. He goe... | along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, ... | Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated t... | his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wip... | of the girl about him. I glance at my boots. They are big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more tha... | already! Hospital-orderlies go to and fro with bottles and pails. One of them comes up, casts a glance at Kemmerich and goes away again. You can see he is waiting, apparently he wants the bed. I bend over Franz and talk to him as though that could save him: "Perhaps you will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I nod. He goes on: | No speaker | taking his things with you?"<|quote|>I nod. He goes on:</|quote|>"We must take him away | in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?"<|quote|>I nod. He goes on:</|quote|>"We must take him away at once, we want the | I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?"<|quote|>I nod. He goes on:</|quote|>"We must take him away at once, we... | at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and... | jump up, stumble outside and demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anyt... | He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is ... | at my boots. They are big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe tha... | his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and c... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." | An orderly | I nod. He goes on:<|quote|>"We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor."</|quote|>I collect the things, untie | taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on:<|quote|>"We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor."</|quote|>I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take | never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on:<|quote|>"We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they ar... | operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. ... | demand: "Where is the doctor? Where is the doctor?" As I catch sight of the white apron I seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated... | face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I s... | big and clumsy, the breeches are tucked into them, and standing up one looks well-built and powerful in these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs... | ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness and the wind as a deliverance. I b... | No speaker | are lying on the floor."<|quote|>I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness an... | want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor."<|quote|>I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I ... | the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor."<|quote|>I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and ... | the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like o... | seize hold of it: "Come quick, Franz Kemmerich is dying." He frees himself and asks an orderly standing by: "Which will that be?" He says: "Bed 26, amputated thigh." He sniffs: "How should I know anything about it, I've amputated five legs to-day" ; he shoves me away, says to the hospital-orderly "You see to it," and r... | talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. ... | these great drain-pipes. But when we go bathing and strip, suddenly we have slender legs again and slight shoulders. We are no longer soldiers but little more than boys; no one would believe that we could carry packs. It is a strange moment when we stand naked; then we become civilians, and almost feel ourselves to be ... | may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. Th... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Seen the infants?" | Kropp | than us. Kropp nudges me:<|quote|>"Seen the infants?"</|quote|>I nod. We stick out | are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me:<|quote|>"Seen the infants?"</|quote|>I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the | III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me:<|quote|>"Seen the infants?"</|quote|>I nod. We st... | belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of s... | warm and soft as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my ... | along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, ... | will go to the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by t... | and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. | No speaker | nudges me: "Seen the infants?"<|quote|>I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-mask... | years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?"<|quote|>I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have alre... | arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?"<|quote|>I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the ... | stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already lai... | as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The nigh... | orderly. The man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless... | the convalescent home at Klosterberg, among the villas, Franz. Then you can look out from the window across the fields to the two trees on the horizon. It is the loveliest time of the year now, when the corn ripens; at evening the fields in the sunlight look like mother-of-pearl. And the lane of poplars by the Klosterb... | as I go along with the orderly. The man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile an... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" | Katczinsky | issued with gas-masks and coffee.<|quote|>"Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?"</|quote|>Kat asks one of the | reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee.<|quote|>"Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?"</|quote|>Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, | I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee.<|quote|>"Long time since ... | arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, sh... | me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I ... | more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at on... | And the lane of poplars by the Klosterbach, where we used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, ... | all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with y... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. | No speaker | anything decent to eat, eh?"<|quote|>Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces.</|quote|>"For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets | "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?"<|quote|>Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces.</|quote|>"For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a | open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?"<|quote|>Kat asks... | straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and fe... | electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. T... | rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the... | used to catch sticklebacks! You can build an aquarium again and keep fish in it, and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it wit... | I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness and the wind as a deliverance. I b... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Kat gives a knowing whistle. | No speaker | turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad."<|quote|>Kat gives a knowing whistle.</|quote|>"Bread made of turnips? You've | youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad."<|quote|>Kat gives a knowing whistle.</|quote|>"Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing | stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supp... | there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll ... | my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With i... | wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and... | and you can go out without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face ... | of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, t... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" | Katczinsky | Kat gives a knowing whistle.<|quote|>"Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?"</|quote|>The youngster turns red: "You | turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle.<|quote|>"Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?"</|quote|>The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczins... | We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat... | a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go o... | the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAP... | eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orde... | without asking anyone, you can even play the piano if you want to." I lean down over his face which lies in the shadow. He still breathes, lightly. His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will ... | taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me t... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
The youngster turns red: | No speaker | to haricot beans? Have some?"<|quote|>The youngster turns red:</|quote|>"You can't kid me." Katczinsky | But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?"<|quote|>The youngster turns red:</|quote|>"You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." | eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?... | in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks ... | for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are o... | on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-p... | His face is wet, he is crying. What a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. ... | the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, a... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Katczinsky merely says: | No speaker | red: "You can't kid me."<|quote|>Katczinsky merely says:</|quote|>"Fetch your mess-tin." We follow | Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me."<|quote|>Katczinsky merely says:</|quote|>"Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to | He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid m... | pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces.... | go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-fi... | we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aw... | a fine mess I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every m... | do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Fetch your mess-tin." | Katczinsky | kid me." Katczinsky merely says:<|quote|>"Fetch your mess-tin."</|quote|>We follow curiously. He takes | youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says:<|quote|>"Fetch your mess-tin."</|quote|>We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside | breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky mer... | recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turn... | he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of ... | bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the d... | I have made of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in c... | a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacanci... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: | No speaker | merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin."<|quote|>We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says:</|quote|>"Sharp eyes and light fingers! | "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin."<|quote|>We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says:</|quote|>"Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Pr... | turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin."<|quote|>We follow cu... | ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, t... | on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft ... | are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness and the wi... | of it with my foolish talk! "But Franz" --I put my arm round his shoulder and put my face against his. "Will you sleep now?" He does not answer. The tears run down his cheeks. I would like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may p... | My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." | Katczinsky | like a general and says:<|quote|>"Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say."</|quote|>We are surprised. "Great guts, | himself in front of it like a general and says:<|quote|>"Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say."</|quote|>We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come | youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says:<|quote|>"Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's... | eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The... | of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and... | are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness and the wind as a deliverance. I breathe as deep as I can, and feel the breeze in my face, warm and soft as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to m... | like to wipe them away but my handkerchief is too dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing;... | and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have been filled and the sacks of straw are already laid out in the huts. Some of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
We are surprised. | No speaker | That's what the Prussians say."<|quote|>We are surprised.</|quote|>"Great guts, Kat, how did | "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say."<|quote|>We are surprised.</|quote|>"Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I | "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say."<|quote|>We are surprised.</|quote|>"Great guts,... | breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky mer... | of them are old hands, but there are twenty-five men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katcz... | the door I am aware of the darkness and the wind as a deliverance. I breathe as deep as I can, and feel the breeze in my face, warm and soft as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass b... | dirty. An hour passes. I sit tensely and watch his every movement in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone no... | drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside t... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
I ask him. | No speaker | did you come by that?"<|quote|>I ask him.</|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took | surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?"<|quote|>I ask him.</|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three | beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?"<|quote|>I ask him.</|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took ... | made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of ... | later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go ove... | a deliverance. I breathe as deep as I can, and feel the breeze in my face, warm and soft as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The... | in case he may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it lea... | greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAPTER III Reinforcements have arrived. The vacancies have be... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." | Katczinsky | by that?" I ask him.<|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too."</|quote|>Grudgingly he gives the youngster | Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him.<|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too."</|quote|>Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says: "Next | sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him.<|quote|>"Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three piec... | You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef an... | the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforc... | breathe as deep as I can, and feel the breeze in my face, warm and soft as never before. Thoughts of girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streami... | may perhaps say something. What if he were to open his mouth and cry out! But he only weeps, his head turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. Th... | man looks at me and says: "One operation after another since five o'clock this morning. You know to-day alone there have been sixteen deaths--yours is the seventeenth. There will probably be twenty altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could dro... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says: | No speaker | Cold beans taste fine, too."<|quote|>Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says:</|quote|>"Next time you come with | of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too."<|quote|>Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says:</|quote|>"Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar | a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him. "Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too."<|quote|>Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion a... | beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light f... | our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to e... | girls, of flowery meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the ... | turned aside. He does not speak of his mother or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too wi... | the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and waits for me. I give him the boots. We go in and he tries them on. They fit well. He roots among his supplies and offers me a fine piece of saveloy. With it goes hot tea and rum. CHAP... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?" | Katczinsky | youngster a portion and says:<|quote|>"Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?"</|quote|>Then he turns to us. | too." Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says:<|quote|>"Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?"</|quote|>Then he turns to us. "You get off scot free, | That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him. "Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says:<|quote|>"Next time you come with your mess-tin have... | kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surpris... | in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He gr... | into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move sup... | or his brothers and sisters. He says nothing; all that lies behind him; he is entirely alone now with his little life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big b... | me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunge... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
Then he turns to us. | No speaker | your other hand. Get me?"<|quote|>Then he turns to us.</|quote|>"You get off scot free, | a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?"<|quote|>Then he turns to us.</|quote|>"You get off scot free, of course." * * Katczinsky | was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says: "Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?"<|quote|>Then he turns to us.</|quote|>"You get off scot free, of... | It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him. "Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachut... | and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Brea... | I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, g... | life of nineteen years, and cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he colla... | meadows, of white clouds suddenly come into my head. My feet begin to move forward in my boots, I go quicker, I run. Soldiers pass by me, I hear their voices without understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders lik... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"You get off scot free, of course." | Katczinsky | Then he turns to us.<|quote|>"You get off scot free, of course."</|quote|>* * Katczinsky never goes | your other hand. Get me?" Then he turns to us.<|quote|>"You get off scot free, of course."</|quote|>* * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth | I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says: "Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?" Then he turns to us.<|quote|>"You get off scot free, of course."</|quote|>* * Katczi... | of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him. "Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold be... | reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? ... | understanding. The earth is streaming with forces which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the b... | cries because it leaves him. This is the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich gro... | collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and go. Behind me they are already hauling Franz on to a water-proof sheet. Outside the door I am aware of the darkness and the wind as a deliverance. I breathe... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
* * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anything to do with it; he understands all trades. It's a good thin... | No speaker | off scot free, of course."<|quote|>* * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anything to do with it; he unders... | turns to us. "You get off scot free, of course."<|quote|>* * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anything to... | silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." Grudgingly he gives the youngster a portion and says: "Next time you come with your mess-tin have a cigar or a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?" Then he turns to us. "You get off scot free, of course."<|quote|>* * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. ... | Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like a general and says: "Sharp eyes and light fingers! That's what the Prussians say." We are surprised. "Great guts, Kat, how did you come by that?" I ask him. "Ginger was glad I took it. I gave him three pieces of parachute silk for it. Cold beans taste fine, too." Grudgin... | gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to b... | which pour into me through the soles of my feet. The night crackles electrically, the front thunders like a concert of drums. My limbs move supply, I feel my joints strong, I breathe the air deeply. The night lives, I live. I feel a hunger, greater than comes from the belly alone. Müller stands in front of the hut and ... | the most disturbing and hardest parting that ever I have seen, although it was pretty bad too with Tiedjen, who called for his mother--a big bear of a fellow who, with wild eyes full of terror, held off the doctor from his bed with a dagger until he collapsed. Suddenly Kemmerich groans and begins to gurgle. I jump up, ... | to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Come with me." | Katczinsky | then says to Haie Westhus:<|quote|>"Come with me."</|quote|>They go off to explore. | looks at the place and then says to Haie Westhus:<|quote|>"Come with me."</|quote|>They go off to explore. Half an hour later they | in it, or rather bunks--a couple of wooden beams over which wire netting is stretched. Wire netting is hard. And there's nothing to put on it. Our waterproof sheets are too thin. We use our blankets to cover ourselves. Kat looks at the place and then says to Haie Westhus:<|quote|>"Come with me."</|quote|>They go off to... | orders when things come to blows. For that he has his qualifications. For example, we land at night in some entirely unknown spot, a sorry hole, that has been eaten out to the very walls. We are quartered in a small dark factory adapted to the purpose. There are beds in it, or rather bunks--a couple of wooden beams ove... | me?" Then he turns to us. "You get off scot free, of course." * * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anythi... | horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing wh... | altogether----" I become faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the r... | men of a later draft from the base. They are about two years younger than us. Kropp nudges me: "Seen the infants?" I nod. We stick out our chests, shave in the open, shove our hands in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes a... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
They go off to explore. Half an hour later they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungry. Kropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhood: | No speaker | Haie Westhus: "Come with me."<|quote|>They go off to explore. Half an hour later they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungry. Kropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhood:</|quote|>"Is there a... | place and then says to Haie Westhus: "Come with me."<|quote|>They go off to explore. Half an hour later they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungry. Kropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhoo... | rather bunks--a couple of wooden beams over which wire netting is stretched. Wire netting is hard. And there's nothing to put on it. Our waterproof sheets are too thin. We use our blankets to cover ourselves. Kat looks at the place and then says to Haie Westhus: "Come with me."<|quote|>They go off to explore. Half an ... | come to blows. For that he has his qualifications. For example, we land at night in some entirely unknown spot, a sorry hole, that has been eaten out to the very walls. We are quartered in a small dark factory adapted to the purpose. There are beds in it, or rather bunks--a couple of wooden beams over which wire nettin... | turns to us. "You get off scot free, of course." * * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anything to do with... | over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made ... | faint, all at once I cannot do any more. I won't revile any more, it is senseless, I could drop down and never rise up again. We are by Kemmerich's bed. He is dead. The face is still wet from the tears. The eyes are half open and yellow like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things... | in our pockets, inspect the recruits and feel ourselves to be stone-age veterans. Katczinsky joins us. We stroll past the horse-boxes and go over to the reinforcements, who have already been issued with gas-masks and coffee. "Long time since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He gr... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
"Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?" | Kropp | some time in this neighbourhood:<|quote|>"Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?"</|quote|>"Is there a what?" he | an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhood:<|quote|>"Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?"</|quote|>"Is there a what?" he laughs. "There's nothing to be | me." They go off to explore. Half an hour later they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungry. Kropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhood:<|quote|>"Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?"</|quote... | or rather bunks--a couple of wooden beams over which wire netting is stretched. Wire netting is hard. And there's nothing to put on it. Our waterproof sheets are too thin. We use our blankets to cover ourselves. Kat looks at the place and then says to Haie Westhus: "Come with me." They go off to explore. Half an hour ... | is a cobbler, I believe, but that hasn't anything to do with it; he understands all trades. It's a good thing to be friends with him, as Kropp and I are, and Haie Westhus too, more or less. But Haie is rather the executive arm operating under Kat's orders when things come to blows. For that he has his qualifications. F... | in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Ka... | like old horn buttons. The orderly pokes me in the ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I... | a chew of tobacco in your other hand. Get me?" Then he turns to us. "You get off scot free, of course." * * Katczinsky never goes short; he has a sixth sense. There are such people everywhere but one does not appreciate it at first. Every company has one or two. Katczinsky is the smartest I know. By trade he is a ... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
he laughs. | No speaker | abouts?" "Is there a what?"<|quote|>he laughs.</|quote|>"There's nothing to be had | "Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?" "Is there a what?"<|quote|>he laughs.</|quote|>"There's nothing to be had here. You won't find so | they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat has found a horse-box with straw in it. Now we might sleep if we weren't so terribly hungry. Kropp asks an artilleryman who has been some time in this neighbourhood: "Is there a canteen anywhere abouts?" "Is there a what?"<|quote|>he laughs.</|quote|>"There's nothing to ... | netting is stretched. Wire netting is hard. And there's nothing to put on it. Our waterproof sheets are too thin. We use our blankets to cover ourselves. Kat looks at the place and then says to Haie Westhus: "Come with me." They go off to explore. Half an hour later they are back again with arms full of straw. Kat ha... | do with it; he understands all trades. It's a good thing to be friends with him, as Kropp and I are, and Haie Westhus too, more or less. But Haie is rather the executive arm operating under Kat's orders when things come to blows. For that he has his qualifications. For example, we land at night in some entirely unknown... | of sawdust. But what do you say to haricot beans? Have some?" The youngster turns red: "You can't kid me." Katczinsky merely says: "Fetch your mess-tin." We follow curiously. He takes us to a tub beside his straw sack. It is nearly half full of a stew of beef and beans. Katczinsky plants himself in front of it like ... | ribs. "Are you taking his things with you?" I nod. He goes on: "We must take him away at once, we want the bed. Outside they are lying on the floor." I collect the things, untie Kemmerich's identification disc and take it away. The orderly asks about the pay-book, I say that it is probably in the orderly-room, and g... | since you've had anything decent to eat, eh?" Kat asks one of the youngsters. He grimaces. "For breakfast, turnip-bread--lunch, turnip-stew--supper, turnip-cutlets and turnip-salad." Kat gives a knowing whistle. "Bread made of turnips? You've been in luck, it's nothing new for it to be made of sawdust. But what do y... | All Quiet on the Western Front |
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