I felt certain that he would shoot me. But he unexpectedly lowered his
arm. His face was tanned, with thick, dark hair and wide, blue eyes.
After a short silence he said:
"I could shoot you--but I do not want to. We are both prisoners in this
hole!"
And he added, saluting: "I am a Captain in the 238th Prussian Regiment;
Müller!"
I also gave him my name. We were now sitting at opposite sides of the
hole, he a German and I a Frenchman. We remained silent. We both felt
awkward, and I tried not to look at him. At last he said:
"You are wounded?"
"Yes."
"Allow me! I shall fix a bandage for you!"