The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-09-13
CHAPTER XXI (continuedl

CHAPTER XXI Continued
81 can sleep enough later" she
says.
I sit UP. IT don't go straight back
70 the front, mother. I have TO do
four weeks at the training camp.
may come over from there one Sun
day, perhaps"
She is silent. Then she asks gen.
tly: care you very much afraid?"
mo, mother"
IT would like to tell you TO be on
your guard against the women out
in France. They are no good" 800
All! Mother, Mother! You still
think I am a child-why can 1 not
put my head in your lap and weep!
Why have always to be strong and
self-controlled2 I would Ike 10
weep and be comforted, too, lnoeed
am little more than a child; in the
wardrobe still hang my short, boys
trousers-it is such little time ago.
why is it over?
where we are there aren't any
women, Mother" I say as calmly as
I can.
"And be very careful at the front,
Paul"
All. Mother, Motherl Why do 1
not take you in my arms, and ole
with you9 What poor wretcheS we
arel
yes, Mother I will"
81 will pray for you every day.
All Mother, Mother! Let Us rise
I'm and 20 out, back through the
wears. where the burden Of all this
misery lies on us no more, back 10
Won and me alone, Mother!
perhaps you can get a Job that
Is not so dangerous.
Eyes. Mother perhaps 1 can get
into the cookhouse. That easily can
be done" 49,.
"You do 1t then and if the others
say anything" ,., -
THAT won't worry me, Mother
She signs. Her face is q white
CLEAN in the darkness.
"Now you must go to sleep
Mother"
She does not reply. get up and
wrap nv cover round her shoulders.
She supports herself on my arm
she is in pain. And so take her 70
her room. stay with her a little
while.
and you must get well again.
Mother, before I come back.
"Yes, yes, my child"
"You ought not to send your
things to me, Mother. We have
nlentv To eat out there. You can
make much better use of them
here
How destitute she lies there in her
bed. she that loves me more than all
the world. AS I am about to leave,
she says hastily: 81 have two pairs
of underpants for you. They 20 all
wool. They will keep you warm.
You must not forget to put them in
your pack"
All! Motherl I know what these
underpantS have cost you in walt
ing, and walking, and begging! All!
Mother, Mother! how can it be that
I must part from you? Who else
is there that has any claim on me
but your Here I sit and there you
are lying, and we have so much to
say, that we could never say 1t.
Goodnight, mother"
Goodnight, my child"
The room Is dark. hear my
mothers breathing and the ticking
of the clock. Outside the window the
wind blows and the chestnut trees
rustic.
On the landing I stumble over my
pack which lies there already made
up, because I have to leave early in
the morning.
I bite into my pillow. I grasp the
iron rods of my bed with my fists.
I ought never to have come here.
Out there I was Indifferent and
often hopeless; I never will be able
to be so again. was a soldier, and
now am nothing but an agony for
myself, for my mother, for every
thing that is so comfortlesS and
without end.
I ought never to have come on
leave.
I already know the camp on the
moorS. 1t was here that Himmels-
toss gave Tjaden his education. But
now I know hardly any one here;
as ever, all is altered. There are
only a few people that I have occa-
sionally met before.
I go through the routine me-
chemically. In the evening I gen.
orally go to the Soldiers Home,
where the newspapers are laid out,
btu which do not read; still, there