“But they tell us that in two months the Russians will ask for peace, and that then we shall beat the French.” The interpreter slowly shrugged his shoulder as though with pity. “Have they not always been telling you since the beginning of hostilities that in two months’ time the war will be finished, and during the year it has lasted you are always there open-mouthed, swallowing all the newspapers tell you--the newspapers that are under the control of a severe censor. And you still believe it; you really are naïve. The war is only beginning.” “Ah, you say that because you are well off here. I understand that it is all the same to you. The war is finished for you. You will not be ‘Kaput.’” “Indeed we are not. You think that we are well off here? What, in this depressing tranquillity, in this state of uselessness which makes our hearts revolt when we think of our comrades who from the very beginning have been and are risking their lives at every moment. We prefer the painful and risky experiences at the front. We would much rather be on the other side of the trenches with our rifles in our hands watching you come on.” The Boche opened his eyes in astonishment, but incredulous he broke in with: “Das glaube ich nicht.” “But in spite of everything we prefer our place to yours, for the victory will be ours. The longer the war, the greater and more certain our success. We were not ready in France, we did not believe in the war. We are only now beginning to be organised. The English are doing the same. For months we have been holding out, but behind terrible things are preparing. Then the seas are not shut to us as they are to you. We can continue our commerce and get richer, while you ... well, if the war lasts much longer it is your finances that will be ‘Kaput.’ Then with a formidable army, well equipped and well fed, we shall enter your country and you will suffer the fate of Belgium.” The unfortunate sentinel bit his pipe and seemed embarrassed. He must have regretted coming to speak to the prisoners. Perhaps he thought that his conversation with depressed captives would have given him the courage of which he had great need, for he was soon to return to the front. His blue eyes wandered towards the horizon; they were full of fear, as if they saw the horrible visions that our comrade had called up. The three speakers had recognised in this sentinel a victim whom they were unwilling to let go, so they became talkative.