His temperature had risen sharply in the evening, and his body felt like it had been beaten with a blunt object. At night, they put him in a bag, dragged him to the hospital, tossed him on a bed in a patient room and left. There was no question about the diagnosis: it was newly sprouted chickenpox. The permanent doctor of the hospital, who had a narrow frame, square mouth, arms and legs as thin as a spider’s and inconsistent with his body, muttered and complained to the commander of the battalion as he filled out the hospital register that this i***t came a few days ago, I wouldn’t let him in, I said you can’t, there’s a risk of infection, but he insisted, you could’ve told him a thousand times, it’s the same cretin. He was all by himself at the hospital, all three patients had healed and
