It was a strange group, and I edged nearer to them and spoke to one of the men.

“Who’s this? Why do you carry his bags?”

“Oh, we’re giving him special privileges,” said the man. “He stayed behind to look after our wounded. Said his job was to look after wounded, whoever they were. So there he’s been, in a dugout bandaging our lads; and no joke, either. It’s hell up there. We’re glad to get out of it.”

I spoke to the German doctor and walked with him. He discussed the philosophy of the war simply and with what seemed like sincerity.

“This war!” he said, with a sad, ironical laugh. “We go on killing one another⁠—to no purpose. Europe is being bled to death and will be impoverished for long years. We Germans thought it was a war for Kultur⁠—our civilization. Now we know it is a war against Kultur, against religion, against all civilization.”

“How will it end?” I asked him.