No Soldier Outlives A Thousand

The Wisest Were Just The Poor And Simple People. They Knew The War To Be A Misfortune, Whereas Those Who Were Better Off, And Should Have Been Able To See More Clearly What The Consequences Would Be, Were Beside Themselves With Joy.

This Book Is To Be Neither An Accusation Nor A Confession, And Least Of All An Adventure, For Death Is Not An Adventure To Those Who Stand Face To Face With It. It Will Try Simply To Tell Of A Generation Of Men Who, Even Though They May Have Escaped Shells, Were Destroyed By The War.

We Came To Realise - First With Astonishment, Then Bitterness, And Finally With Indifference - That Intellect Apparently Wasn't The Most Important Thing...not Ideas, But The System; Not Freedom, But Drill. We Had Joined Up With Enthusiasm And With Good Will; But They Did Everything To Knock That Out Of Us.

A Man Can Gasp Out His Life Beside You-and You Feel None Of It. Pity, Sympathy, Sure-but You Don't Feel The Pain. Your Belly Is Whole And That's What Counts. A Half-yard Away Someone's World Is Snuffled Out In Roaring Agony-and You Feel Nothing. That's The Misery Of The World.

Someone Said To Me Once That A Cigarette At The Right Moment Is Better Than All The Ideals In The World.