All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque

Time passes and the only change, in addition to the seasons, is the move from the front to waiting to return to the front. What used to be is no more for either the soldiers or for the civilians. What used to matter, things like education and breeding, no longer matter. “Now we are all melted down," says the narrator, "and all bear the same stamp.”

Energy must be conserved, so the only important things are those necessary to sustain and maintain life. Everything else is dormant, and all is well until there is a yearning for something more. Those are the moments when the soldiers are reminded that they are more than animals and that the hard shell of superficiality is not real. Things are starting to fall apart around Paul. One day Detering, a fellow soldier, came home with several branches of cherry blossoms and started packing his belongings—including the branches. Paul talked with him and asked what he was planning, and Detering seemed to know he was being scrutinized by his comrades and acted normal for a day or so. The next day he was gone. The regiment heard he had been caught heading back to Germany and was court-martialed. They should have known Detering was just homesick and had a momentary lapse in judgment, but they do not. Another soldier, Berger, jumped out of the safety of their trenches to save a messenger dog and got shot and wounded, as did the man who tried to save him. There is no way to counteract such frontline madness; the best anyone can do is “fling the man to the ground and hold him fast.”

Müller takes a shot to the stomach at close range and dies. His wallet and his boots, the same boots Kemmerich gave away in his dying moments, go to Paul. If Paul no longer needs the boots,...