To Gigetta: 23 November 1915

I found a piece of paper with a bit of your writing on it: “comfort.” I want to write you a bit more today and to be with you, my dear little one. In a soldier’s uniform, unshaven, revolver on my hip, alpenstock in my hand (that I found, near the little Fort of Podgora,¹ the first terrible battlefield that I saw on the 5th, having just arrived, after the attack on the 3rd), I would look much thinner and more exhausted to you. This time I really felt the war more intensely. To return to war after being injured