War Journals 30.XII.14 - Ernst Jünger

“Ernst Jünger's front report “Storm of Steel” is, along with Erich Maria Remarque’s novel "All Quiet on the Western Front", the best known German book about the First World War. It is based on fifteen diaries that Jünger worked on continuously throughout the war, from his first entry to the front at the turn of 1914/15 to his last wounding in August 1918. This work thus traces exactly how Jünger’s war experiences were psychologically absorbed and gradually transformed into literature – an incomparable literary and historical document of the time and a sensation in book publishing.”

- Ernst Jünger, War Journals 1914-1918

“These notes are not only a unique document of the “original catastrophe of the 20th century”, but above all a key text in the development of Ernst Jünger's self-understanding as a poet.”

-Heimo Schwilk, Welt am Sonntag

30.XII.14.

In the afternoon, receipt of cartridges and iron rations. An examination for venereal diseases. As we set out, some mothers took their leave, which left us with a sense of gloom. 644 Departure. Straw was stacked in the wagons. The benches, both on and underneath, were terribly crowded.

31.XII.14.

Half past one We had coffee and bread in Hannoversch Münden. 7am in Giessen. We had pea soup with meat. The Lahn valley, beautiful view. Crossed the Rhine at Koblenz. Then the Moselle valley (revolver shooting)! After Trier we cross the Luxembourg border. From nine thirty to ten we ate pea soup in Luxembourg, which had a completely German appearance. At 12 we celebrated the New Year with singing and a shot of Curacao. Then I slept soundly until the next morning.

At 7 am I had pea soup in Sedan. The mood was cheerful. The region takes on a war character. Destroyed houses, blown-up bridges that are crossed slowly, and sheaves of crops rotting in the fields. Many houses stand abandoned, doors and windows left open. Landslides are everywhere along the line. Overgrown fields are a sad sight. Rusted combine harvesters are everywhere. We got off at Bazancourt station. In the distance, guns were rumbling. We saw two shrapnel clouds far behind us, dissolving into white steam. Then we drove on for a few more kilometres. We got out and marched to Granville. There we spent the night in a large barn, and listened to the roar of the guns.