Читать книгу All Quiet on the Western Front - Erich Maria Remarque - Страница 15

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it strikes me that these nails will continue to grow like lean fan-tastic cellar-plants long after kemmerich breathes no more.

we have brought your things, franz.

will you take them with you, then, franz?

I think of when we left home. at the train station, franz’s mother wept continually. she made me prom-ise that I would take care of him at the front...

he looks ghastly, yellow and wan. in his face there are already the strained lines that we know so well, we have seen them now hundreds of times.

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...

death is working through from within.

kemmerich has a pair of english soft yellow leather boots.

mu ̈lleris delightedat the sight of them. his own boots do not fit him perfectly, and he gets blister after blister.

...but how can a man look after anyone in the field?

put them under the bed.