MvR honored

‘Manfred would recover much faster if it weren’t for these celebrations. The ‘Committee for the Establishment of a War Remembrance Collection’ (what a monstrosity of a word!) had already sent a ‘telegram of homage’; incessant serenades rang out in front of the house in the morning. After dinner, Manfred had barely laid down for a while – his head was hurting particularly badly today – when a club appeared again; my husband had to go up and wake Manfred. A few minutes later he appeared at the front door – with an apologetic expression. He was almost unfriendly. Receiving ovations is not his thing. He could hardly conceal his bad mood; nevertheless, everyone’s eyes were glued to him. We felt sorry for the people and I asked if he wouldn’t be a bit friendlier next time. Manfred stood up with an almost brusque movement, his eyes narrowed and became hard: ‘When I look out over the trenches and the soldiers cheer me on and I look into their grey faces, hollowed out by hunger, sleeplessness and battle – then I rejoice, then something in me cheers too. You should see that: they often forget all danger, jump to cover, wave their rifles and wave to me. – That is my reward, mother, my most beautiful reward!”’