We've been on the front for over a year now. I've begun to notice that war is its own world. War has its own society where the rules are different and things like going to the bathroom next to your commanding officer on a log are no different than sitting down next to him at the dinner table.
I still remember our teacher, Kantorek, urging us to join the "glorious" fight. We were young boys looking for an adventure... at least that's how most of us saw it.
I don't know about this
"WON'T YOU JOIN UP, COMRADES?"
FOR GERMANY! FOR THE FATHERLAND!
It just so turns out that Behm was the first one of my classmates to fall on the front. He was hit in the eye, but life held on to him by a thread. We left him for dead, not batting an eye at the boy that had once sat beside me in Kantorek's biology lessons.
Kemmerich recently got hit. We went to visit him at the field hospital. Death began to consume Kemmerich as he grew paler and his cheekbones seem as if they were going to protrude throw his frail skin. He had already lost his foot.
"Not so bad... but I have such a damned pain in my foot."
"How goes it, Franz?"
Ever since we got to boot camp, we have been outside of the boundaries of the normal world. Corporal Himmelstoss once made Tjaden and another soldier by the name of Kindervater, sleep in the same bunks as they both had the tendency to wet themselves in their sleep.
When the f*** are you fools going to learn?!?
Some of the worst horrors of the war to some us, especially Detering who is a farmer, have been the abuse and atrocities committed against military horses. Horses are weapons, once beaten down and broken, they are left to rot. In times like this though, a weapon is used until it is drained of its every bit of life.
"Shoot them! Shoot them, can't you? Damn you again!"