“ I began to dress. I picked up my towel and soap and loosened the flap once again. I felt I had to go out and wash, for I had not washed at all on the previous day, fearing the dirty, freezing water and the piercing wind. I longed to remain in the warm tent, and for a moment I wavered. Then, with an effort of the will I suppressed the strong temptation, and squeezing through the tent-opening, I stepped out into the oozy mud. The black night seemed to weigh heavily on the world. Only here and there dull glimmering blurs showed that candles were burning in the other tents. ”
F. A. Voigt
Biographical details
F. A. Voigt, best known for their seminal work Combed Out, examines the harrowing realities of war through visceral, unflinching prose. Their writing explores the psychological and physical strain of conflict, depicting mud-soaked trenches, the stench of decay, and the existential dread of bombardments.
Themes of resilience, moral ambiguity, and the dehumanizing impact of violence recur, illustrated through graphic imagery and introspective narration. Voigt’s stark depiction of wartime existence, blending sensory detail with existential reflection, cements Combed Out as a defining text of its era’s literary response to war’s brutalities.
Quotes by F. A. Voigt
“ I heard the descent of a bomb. I trembled and tried to shrink to nothing. There was a deafening thunder-clap and the ground shook. A quantity of loose earth came down upon us. Another bomb descended—every muscle in my body tightened and I stopped breathing altogether. But the explosion that followed was fainter than the last. Then there was another, still further off. All my muscles gradually relaxed and a delicious feeling of relief pervaded my whole being. The buzzing noise became more and more feeble. I got up and walked back to the marquee, trembling and weak at the knees. ”
“ As we lay on the floor of the marquee, wrapped up in our blankets, we heard the sound of bombing and firing in the distance.Clear days and clear nights followed each other. Sometimes a train would stop in front of the C.C.S., hissing and puffing, and throwing up a great shaft of light. We would curse it, fearing that it would attract German raiders.If only the fine weather would come to an end! Give us wind and rain so that we could lie in bed without being oppressed by anxiety! But the sun continued to shine and the stars to glitter. ”
