we developed a firm, practical feeling of solidarity, which grew, on the battlefield, into the best thing that the war produced - comradeship in arms.

We are forlorn like children, and experienced like old men, we are crude and sorrowful and superficial—I believe we are lost.

No soldier outlives a thousand chances. But every soldier believes in Chance and trusts his luck.

We came to realise - first with astonishment, then bitterness, and finally with indifference - that intellect apparently wasn't the most important thing...not ideas, but the system; not freedom, but drill. We had joined up with enthusiasm and with good will; but they did everything to knock that out of us.

Die Schwierigkeit mit dem Krieg ist, dass die Leute, die ihn wollen, nicht erwarten, in ihm zu sterben. Und die Schwierigkeit mit unserer Erinnerung ist, dass sie vergisst und verändert und verfälscht, um zu überleben. Sie macht den Tod zu einem Abenteuer, wenn der Tod dich verfehlt. Aber der Tod ist kein Abenteuer: Töten ist der Sinn des Krieges, - nicht Überleben.

And be very careful at the front, Paul.”Ah, Mother, Mother! Why do I not take you in my arms and die with you. What poor wretches we are!

A man dreams of a miracle and wakes up to loaves of bread.

(…) we were being trained to be heroes the way they train circus horses, and we quickly got used to it.

And this I know: all these things that now, while we are still in the war, sink down in us like a stone, after the war shall waken again, and then shall begin the disentanglement of life and death.