Our Artillery... The Germans Feared It Almost

For Me War Has Become A Flat, Black Depression Without Highlights, A Revulsion Of The Mind And An Exhaustion Of The Spirit.

I've Been Immersed In It Too Long. My Spirit Is Wobbly And My Mind Is Confused. The Hurt Has Become Too Great.

The Closest Fires Were Near Enough For Us To Hear The Crackling Flames And The Yells Of Firemen. Little Fires Grew Into Big Ones Even As We Watched. Big Ones Died Down Under The Firemen's Valor Only To Break Out Again Later.

War Makes Strange Giant Creatures Out Of Us Little Routine Men Who Inhabit The Earth.

If You Go Long Enough Without A Bath, Even The Fleas Will Let You Alone.