CHAPTER XXI[ToC]
ALIVE
It was the first night after my arrival at Hanover that I really fully recovered a state of consciousness.
Although I have recorded several incidents of the week which had just passed, they were only occasional glimpses from which I would relapse again into unconsciousness, and it only comes back to me in a hazy sort of way, like dreams through a long night of sleep.
But I remember well the moment when I finally awoke and took in my surroundings. It was early in the morning. I seemed to have had frightful dreams; the horror of what I had passed through had been a frightful nightmare, mocking at me, laughing at me, blowing me to pieces.
I turned over on my side. Strange place this shell-hole; it seemed very comfortable. What was this I was touching—a pillow, bedclothes. Good God! I was in a bed! As my thoughts became clearer I lay perfectly still, almost in fear that any movement I might make would awaken me from this beautiful dream.
A long, long time ago something frightful had happened from which rescue was impossible. Yet, surely this was a bed.
Then I remembered the attack which had taken place over my body while I lay out in No Man's Land; of the shells which had burst around me in violent protest to my presence. I could not possibly have escaped; I must be maimed.