It is my first post and I apologise for waxing philosophical. It seems the only way to start. I promise to be funny and ironic with stories from the German front, but today is a bit more quiet.

I admit. It’s hard not to feel an overwhelming sense of relief to have the time to find one’s own rhythm without the pressure of imposed structures. To feel the natural flow of the day. To cook when hungry, and to sleep when tired. I feel my body’s need to move, and I submit. I feel my mind’s need to escape, and I read. I feel the urge to create, and I paint.

Finally.