And this is just horrible

[Richard Hargreaves]

Bei allem, was mir jetzt noch an Werten begegnet, spüre ich, wie sehr es aus ist damit, und wie vollkommen diese Zerstörung ist - dergestalt, daß auch von den Menschen wohl kaum einer übrig bleiben wird, und wenn, zerrissen, vertrieben, nichts mehr erfahrend von seinen Nächsten, die irgendwohin verschlagen und geschlagen, geschändet, gestoßen und aller Bindungen beraubt, in ein Chaos getrieben worden sind - es bleibt nichts, aber auch nichts übrig als der grinsende Totenkopf des Stieres. Nicht nur, daß ich meine Bilder abschreibe - es wird nie mehr dazu kommen, zum Malen, denn nach dem Schnitter wird es keine Frauen mehr geben, die sich nach den Garben bücken und schon gesäte Saat geht nicht auf, sondern ertrinkt in dem Rot des gerinnenden Blutes.

I feel that everything which I valued is done for and how complete this destruction is - to such an extent that there will even barely be any people left and
... there's nothing left, nothing but the grinning skull of a bull. ... - I will never paint again for after the Grim Reaper [has passed] there will no longer be women to bend to pick up sheaves and seeds which have already been sown will not grow. Instead they will drown in the red of curdling blood.

Cheery stuff too.

[Piet Duits]

The dude who wrote this should have listened to "Jeremiah was a Bullfrog". It might have cheered him up.

[Richard Hargreaves]

Don't think it was written back then. Mind you, I listen to a lot of Joy Division. Not necessarily renowned for their cheerfulness...

It's actually very unusual. Most Feldpost either avoids any talk of what's going on at the front, or else is intended to raise morale of loved ones. I've translated last letters, letters of condolence - all try to raise some flicker of hope, some wish for a better future. This is one of the darkest letters I've ever seen. He was right though. He was killed the following month...

[sw_eno]

Its quite poetic though, reminds me of some of the WW1 letters I read.

[Richard Hargreaves]

Bump.

Anyone able to plug the missing text seeing how it's defeated all my feeble attempts.

[HeinrichFrey]

... to paint... there will be no women at all ... to pick up sheaves...

[Howard]

Hi Richard,

this is the best I can do. Poetic stuff

With everything of worth that I come across, I feel how near the end it is and how complete this destruction is - to such an extent that hardly a single person is going to remain, and when, torn, persecuted, no longer knowing anything of their nearest and dearest, who have been driven somewhere into chaos, craftily and battered, raped, beaten and robbed of all bonds - nothing remains, nothing at all but the grinning death's head of the bull. Not only have I scrubbed my pictures, I'll never paint again because after the Grim Reaper no more women will come to bend over the sheaves and the seed which has been sown will not swell, but drown in the red of congealing blood.

[Richard Hargreaves]

Thanks Matt/Howard. It was as horrible as I thought then.