I sighed and sympathized. “Of course, not. Zusel was what, a war hero? People like that don’t appear in the records. They’re always unsung heroes.”
Almost nodding off, Didenko mumbled: “He wasn’t a hero. He was always wanting to eat but there was nothing kosher. So he went without. People said he wasn’t eating so he wouldn’t have to fight. But that wasn’t why. Anyway, they gave him a real thrashing to make him eat. That was when his skull was staved in. He survived. Started eating a bit. Took whatever they gave him. Chewed and chewed it, tucked it behind his lips and spat it out when no-one could see. I used to say, ‘Why so wasteful, you bastard? I’ll stick my hand out, you can spit it in there. I’ll finish it myself.’ And I did.
“Did you say shell-shock?”
“Well, that’s what I call it.
