BRIEFE

 

Große, rechteckige, vier mal einen Meter große Tafeln aus Corten-Stahl sind flach auf dem Boden angeordnet, ohne sichtbare Ordnung.
Große Geschichtsblätter, auf denen Briefe zu lesen sind, die Frontsoldaten im Ersten Weltkrieg an ihre Familien schrieben.

I've still in my nostrils the smell of grease on a red-hot machinegun. I've still in my hears and even in my brain the crunching of snow under my boots, the coughs and sneezes from russian lookouts, the sound of dry grass swept by the wind on the banks of the Don. I've still in my eyes the stars of Cassiopeia wich hung above my head every night, and the bunker props above my head every day. And when I think about it all I feel the terror of that January mornng when their gun Katiuska first let off its seventy-two rocket-shells….

Mario Rigoni Stern. The sergent in the snow, 1953