The Washington times., 1931-10-23


hind her. And suddenly .
strange agitation takes hold Of
me, almost like pain-as If there
were nothing like that face in
all the whole world, as II I were
q child again that must be
lighted down the stairs, q
youngSter that may come to
some harm out on the street
and as if all else that has been
between were but phantaSm
and dream.
Not q Child
But the light of the lamp
concentrates to a flashing point
in the bucket of my belt. The
moment has passed. I am no
child; am wearing a uniform.
Quickly I run down the stairs,
three steps at a time. fling
open the outer door and hurry
out, eager to come to my COM
radeS.
l call first on Albert TroSske.
His mothers eyes are red from
weeping, but that is merely be-
cause of today: it is not any
thing serious. But Albert is
not his old self either; he is
sitting glumly there at the
table like a wet hen. Beside
him sits his elder brother. It
is an age since I saw him
last; all I know is that he has
been in a hospital a long time.
He has grown stout and has
lovely red cheeks.
"Hullo, Hans, fit again?" I
say heartily. How goes it?
Nothing like being up on your
pins again, eh?"
He mumbleS something in
comprehensive. Frau TroSSke
bursts into sobs and goes out.
Albert makes me q sign with
his eyes. I look around mysti-
fled. Then I notice a pS;S Of
crutc11eS lying beside Hans
chair. mot finished with yet?"
I ask.
"Oh, yes" he replies. Game
out Of hospital last week" He
reaches for the crutcheS, lifts
himself up and with two jerks
swings across to the stove. Both
feet are missing. He has an
iron artificial foot on his right
leg and on the left just a
frame with q shoe attachment.
I feel ashamed at my stupid
talk. Il didn't know, Hans"
say.
He mods. His feet are frost
bitten in the Carpathians, then
gangrene set in, and in the
end they both had to be ampu-
tated.
Thank heaven. it is only his
feet" says Frau TroSSke, bring
ing a cushion and setting it
under the artificial limb.
Never mind. Hans, we will
soon put it right: you'll soon
learn to walk again." She sits
down beside him and strokes
his hands.
eyes," say, only to say
something. you still have your
legs, anyway"
That's what I say" he an
Swers.
Very Much Upset
I offer him a cigarette. What
should one do at such mo-
m ents?-Everything seems
brusque, however well it is
meant. We talk a while, halt
ing and painfully, but when
ever Aubert or I get Up and
move about, we see Hans watch
ing our feet with a gloomy, an
guished gaze. and his mothers
eyes following his in the same
direction-alWays only at the
feet - back and forth - You
have feet-I have none
He still thinks Of nothing
else, and his mother is wholly
taken up with him. She does
not see that Aubert is suffer
ing under it. No one could
stick that for long.
"Aubert. we ought to be going
along to report now," I say, to
give him a pretext for escape"
"YeS," he says, eagerly.
Once outside, we begin to
breathe again. The night re-
fleets softly in the wet pave
ment. Street lights flicker in
the wind. Albert stares straight
ahead. There's nothing I can
do about it." he begins, "but
when I sit there between theml
like that and see him and my
mother. in the end I get to feel
as II 1t were all my fault, and
am ashamed at stin having my
two feet. A man begins to
think he is scum Just for being
whole. Even an arm wound
like Ludwig'S would do; then
perhaps one wouldn't seem
such an eyeSore, standing about
there"
I try to console him: but he
will not have it. What I say
does not convince him. but it
gives me at least some relief.
It is always so with comfort.
Ito Be Continued
Copyright. Erich Maria Remarque.
1881: distributed by United
Feature Syndicate. Inc.