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Then he turns to us. ‘You lot get yours for nothing, of course.’

We could not do without Katczinsky; he has a sixth sense. There are men like him everywhere, but you can’t tell who they are just by looking. Every company has one or two of them. Katczinsky is the sharpest I know. I think he’s a shoemaker by trade, but that’s got nothing to do with it – he’s a master of everything. It’s good to be a friend of his. Kropp and I both are, and Haie Westhus half belongs to the group as well, but he is really only an instrument, working on Kat’s orders whenever something’s going on that needs a strong right arm, then he’s a good man to have around.

For example, we turn up one night in some completely unknown place, a miserable dump[71] where you can see at a glance that it has been stripped of everything that wasn’t screwed down[72]. We’re quartered in a small, dark, factory building that has only just been fitted up for use. It has beds in it, or rather, bedsteads, a couple of planks with wire-mesh between them.

Wire-mesh is hard. We haven’t got a blanket to cover it with, we need ours to put over us. Tarpaulin is too thin.

Kat sizes it up and says to Haie Westhus, ‘Come on.’ Off they go into this completely unknown place. Half an hour later they are back with their arms full of straw. Kat has found some stables and that’s where the straw comes from. We could sleep warmly now, if only we weren’t so damned hungry.

Kat asks a gunner who has already been in the area for a while, ‘Is there a canteen anywhere round here?’

He laughs. ‘Not a chance. There’s nothing. You won’t find a crust of bread round here.’

‘Aren’t there any locals left, then?’

He spits. ‘Oh yes, there are one or two. But they just hang around every field kitchen they see and scrounge what they can.’ That’s pretty bad. In that case we’ll just have to tighten our belts and wait until tomorrow when the rations come up.

Then I see Kat putting his cap on. ‘Where are you off to, Kat?’ ‘Just for a sniff around.’ He slopes out.