The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1929-08-27


He turns away. After pause he
says slowly: II wanted to become
a head-forester once"
$50 you may STILL" I assure him.
There are splendid artificial limbs
now, you'd hardly know there was
anything missing. They are fixed
on to the muscle. You can move
the fingers and work and even write
with an artificial hand. And be-
sides, they will always be making
new improvements.
For while he lies still. Then
he says: "You can take my lace
up boots with you for Muller"
I nod and wonder what TO say
to encourage him. His lips have
fallen away, his mouth has become
larger. his teeth stick out and look
as though they were made Of chalk.
The flesh nelts, the forehead
bulges more prominently, the cheek
bones protrude. The skeleton is
working itself through. The eyes are
already sunken in. In a couple Of
hours it will be over.
He is not the first one I have seen
thus; but we grew UP together and
that always makes it a bit different.
have copied his essays. At school
he used to wear brown coat with
a belt and shiny sleeves. He was the
only one of us, too, who could do
the giants turn on the parallel bars.
His hair few in his face like silk
when he did it. Kantorek was proud
of him for it. But he couldn't
endure cigarets. His skin was very
white; he had something of the
girl about him.
I glance at my boots. They are
big and clumsy, the breeches are
tucked into them, and standing up
one looks well-built and powerful
in these great drain-pipes. But when
we go bathing and strip, suddenly
we have slender legs again and
slight shoulders.
We no longer are soldiers, but lit
tie more than boys; no one would
believe that we could carry packs.
1t is a strange moment when we
stand naked; then we become
civilians, and almost feel ourselves
| to be so.
When bathing Franz Kemnerich
looked as slight and frail as a child.
There he lies now-but why2 The
whole world ought to pass by this
bed and say: THAT is Franz KEN
merich, 1919 years old, he doesn't
want to die. Let him not die!"
My thoughts become confused.
This atmosphere of carbolic and
gangrene clogs the lungs, it is a
thick Cruel it suffocates.
1t grows dark. Kemmerich'S face
changes color, it lifts from the pill
low and is so pale that it CLEANS.
The mouth moves slightly. I draw
near to him. He whispers, eff you
! find my watch, send itahome-"
I do not reply. 1t is no use any
more. No one can console him. I
am wretched with helplessness.
This forehead, with it's hollow tenn
pies, this mouth, that is now merely
a slit, this sharp nose!
And the fat, weeping woman at
41OIliC w W4lOIIl L WllbCs Ii OI1lJ
the letter were sent off already!
Hospital orderlies go to and fro
with bottles and pals. One of them
comes up, casts a glance at KEN
merich and goes away again. You
can see he is waiting; apparently he
wants the bed.
I bend over Franz and talk to him
/ l. Il Ill.
Perhaps you will go to the conva-
lescent home at Klosterberg, among
the villas, Franz. Then you can
look out from the window across the
fields to the two trees on the hori-
Zon.
"It is the 1oveliest time of the year
now, when the corn ripens; at eve
ming the fields in the sunlight look
like mother pearl. And the lane
of poplars by the Klosterbach where
we used to catch stick1ebackS.
You can build an aquarium again
and keep fish in it, and you can go
out without asking anyone, you can
even play the piano if you want to"
/ lean down over his face which
lies in the shadow. He still breathes,
lightly. His face is wet, he is crying.
What a fine mess have made of it
with my foolish talk.
But Franz put my arm round
his shoulders and put my face
! against his. will you sleep now?"
He does not answer. The tears
run down his cheeks. I would like
to wipe them away but my hand
kerchief is too dirty.
An hour passes. I sit tenSely and
watch his every movement in case
he may perhaps say something
What if he were to open his mouth
and cry out! But he only weeps,
| his head turned aside.
He does not speak of his mother
or his brothers and sisters. He says
nothing: all that lies behind him;
he is entirely alone now with his
little life of 10 years, and cries be
cause it leaves him.
This is the most disturbing and
hardest parting that ever I have
seen, although it was pretty bad
too. with Tjadon, who called for his
mother-a big bear of fellow who,
with wild eyes full of terror, held off
the doctor from his bed with a
dagger until he. collapsed
Suddenly Kemmerich groans and
begins to gurgle.
I Jump up. stumble outside and
demand: Where is the doctor?
Where is the doctor?"
AS I catch sight of the white
apron I seize hold Of it: Come
quick. Frank Kemmerich is dying"
He frees himself and asks an or
derby standing by: Which will that
be?"
He says: Bed &c, amputated
thigh"