And how you brought me out of the barrage when I was still a young recruit and was wounded for the first time?
I cried then.
Kat, that is almost three years ago."
He nods.
The anguish of solitude rises up in me.
When Kat is taken away I will not have one friend left.
"Kat, in any case we must see one another again, if it is peace-time before you come back."
"Do you think that I will be marked Al again with this leg?" he asks bitterly.
"With rest it will get better.
The joint is quite sound.
It may get all right again."
"Give me another cigarette," he says.
"Perhaps we could do something together later on, Kat."
I am very miserable, it is impossible that Kat—Kat my friend, Kat with the drooping shoulders and the poor, thin moustache, Kat, whom I know as I know no other man, Kat with whom I have shared these years—it is impossible that perhaps I shall not see Kat again.
"In any case give me your address at home, Kat.
And here is mine, I will write it down for you."
I write his address in my pocket book.
How forlorn I am already, though he still sits here beside me.
Couldn't I shoot myself quickly in the foot so as to be able to go with him.
Suddenly Kat gurgles and turns green and yellow,
"Let us go on," he stammers.
I jump up, eager to help him, I take him up and start off at a run, a slow, steady pace, so as not to jolt his leg too much.
My throat is parched; everything dances red and black before my eyes, I stagger on doggedly and pitilessly and at last reach the dressing station.
There I drop down on my knees, but have still enough strength to fall on to the side where Kat's sound leg is.
After a few minutes I straighten myself up again.
My legs and my hands tremble. I have trouble in finding my water bottle, to take a pull.
My lips tremble as I try to think.
But I smile —Kat is saved.
After a while I begin to sort out the confusion of voices that falls on my ears.
"You might have spared yourself that," says an orderly.
I look at him without comprehending.
He points to Kat.
"He is stone dead."
I do not understand him.
"He has been hit in the shin," I say.
The orderly stands still.
"That as well."
I turn round.
My eyes are still dulled, the sweat breaks out on me again, it runs over my eyelids.
I wipe it away and peer at Kat.
He lies still.
"Fainted," I say quickly.
The orderly whistles softly.
"I know better than that.
He is dead.
I'll lay any money on that."
I shake my head:
"Not possible.
Only ten minutes ago I was talking to him.
He has fainted."