om inside:

"'Ere, just come in a minute. 'Ere's a Fritz been 'ollerin' out all the
evenin'--come an' tell us what 'e wants."

We went in. The prisoners were lying on stretchers in two rows. Most of
them were asleep, but one was tossing about and crying in piteous tones:

"Hab'ich noch'n Arm, oder hab'ich keinen?"

"'E's bin at it for 'ours, pore bloke. Arst 'im what 'e wants--I 'xpect
it's somethin' ter do with 'is arm what they took orf early in the
evenin'."

I asked the man what he wanted and noticed that his right arm had been
taken off at the shoulder. He was silent for a moment and looked at me
with haggard eyes. Then suddenly he wailed:

"Kamerad, sag mir doch--Comrade, tell me--is my arm still there, or is
it gone?"

"He wants to know if he's still got his arm," I said to the orderly, who
turned to the prisoner and exclaimed: "Arm bon, goot!"

"Aber ich fuehl ja nichts--But I can't feel anything--for God's sake tell
me if it's still there!--Ach Gott, ach Gott, ach Gott."

He buried his face in his pillow and sobbed hysterically.

I explained to him that it had been necessary to remove his arm, but
that he would live and be well treated and see no more fighting.

He turned round and stared at me and then shouted jubilantly:

"Jetzt weiss ich's--Now I know--thank God, I shall live, live, live. O
du lieber Himmel, das Gluck ist zu gross."

He gave a deep sigh of relief and satisfaction and closed his eyes and
turned on his side to go to sleep.

Somehow it seemed strange that there could be any happiness left in the
world.

"Thanks awfully," said the orderly. "It must 'a' bin the uncertainty
what upset 'im. I'm bloody glad yer came in. Yer've done 'im a world o'
good. I took to the pore bloke some'ow--I allus feels pertickler sorry
fur wounded Fritzes, I dunno why. I 'xpect 'e's got a missis an' kiddies
just like meself.... Good-night!"

"Good-night," I answered, and added mentally:

"Your profession of soldier, the most degrading on earth, has not
degraded you. You are engaged in the most infamous and sordid war that
was ever fought, and yet you have remained uncontaminated--there is no
honour or decoration in all the armies of the world good enough for
you."

We entered our marquee and made our beds.

All at once I noticed how utterly tired I was both in mind and body. I
crept under the blankets and closed my eyes and saw a vast confusion of
red and yellow patches, of severed limbs and sta