We are the Eastern Front

In the mud and bitter cold of his trench, the author experiences the pain, the hope, the fear and the stinging wound of absences.
In his journey from novice soldier and his, “disbelief that anyone could actually run out into the bullets on an attack”, to steely veteran, “You just have to survive that first jump and you’re away”, the author has used the endless hours spent waiting for attacks or to attack, to write a meditative text, dwelling without shame, on his feelings ; “We and death are now on intimate terms with one another… And from the depths of our souls, lonely, we spoke to him… waves of loneliness washed over me”, he writes, “many of us silently bade a painful farewell in our hearts to our dear comrades… up ahead, your head, your heart, the whole man would be needed; you couldn’t leave even one small piece of yourself behind”.
The author spoke for himself and for generations on all sides of the conflict when he said of his dead comrades after the battle, “They, the chosen ones, have paid the price for us, and we must think of them with profound respect.”