All Quiet on the Western Front Page #4

'We remember the awful sights

in the hospital.

'The gas patients who, surfocating,

'cough up their burned lungs

in clots.

'Better take your chances

in the open

'than stay in the hollows

where the vapours settle.'

'The new recruits are more trouble

than they are worth.

'Between five and ten

get killed to every old hand.

'And they get killed simply

because they are so inexperienced.

No, don't! No!

Get him.

Hand me a rifle. Hand me a rifle.

Kat, wait!

A baby.

Just a baby.

They're in position.

- Nearby?

- Yes, sir.

'How long has it been?

'Weeks, months, years? Only days.

'Yesterday we were under fire.

Today we can rest.

'Tomorrow we go up

to the trenches again.'

Boys, boys, come here.

Look, you boys go on that side.

Over here. This way.

Easy, easy.

Get around, get around up there.

This way.

It's gone.

Quick, he'll get away.

Get him, get him, get him!

Someone eat the liver. I'm on a diet.

and the sturfing would have been

something very special.

But all considered...

A feast. I feel like a king.

Ah, not bad, not bad.

Like I say,

it's not a bad little war.

You never answered

my question, Joseph.

What question?

What we'll all do. Get drunk.

Of course he'll get drunk.

Then it's back home

and mama and all that.

But what ese?

Well, tell him, Joseph.

Don't be ashamed.

I'm not ashamed.

He's going to theology school

to be a minister.

A year here and you haven't changed

your mind about that.

Is God still in his heaven?

Nothing ever changes that.

What about you?

Back to the cobbler's bench, eh?

And the children.

How many you got?

Don't ask.

Good thing I'm a shoemaker,

of I'd go broke just buying shoes.

More coffins.

A bigger load than usual.

That means a bigger offensive.

How considerate

they are at headquarters.

Come on, get this one down.

Haul them up.

Careful, careful.

How old are you?

Sixteen.

Next year, fight out of the cradle.

Did you notch this bayonet?

Yes, sir.

Who told you to?

- At the training camp...

- Training camp, eh?

Sonny, if the enemy ever caught you

with this, they wouldn't kill you,

Nobody uses these things any more.

It's by mutual agreement,

on both sides.

I didn't know.

- First time?

- Yes, sir.

Don't 'sir' me. I'm a private.

Sorry, I thought...

Don't think. Just listen.

Yes, sir.

Your spade is better.

You hit a man under the chin.

Take his head off.

It's a good club, too.

Cos it's heavy.

Hit a man between neck and shoulder.

Right here. Split him right in two.

- Mother of God!

- It's cleaner.

Bayonet gets stuck in ribs,

you have to kick him to pull it out.

Time it takes, you're a dead man.

Understand?

Now, where is your platoon leader?

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