Farewell, Weapons (Translation: Famous Works Library) 033

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Features: That late summer, we lived in a house in the countryside, overlooking the high mountains across the river and plains. The riverbed was filled with pebbles and large round stones, dry and white in the sun. The water was clear, the river swift, and deep pools shimmered in a deep blue. The army marched past our house, kicking up dust that settled on the leaves, even coating the tree trunks with layers of dirt. That year, the leaves had fallen early, and we watched the army march down the road, dust swirling, leaves falling one by one in the breeze. After the soldiers passed, the road was bright and empty, left with only scattered leaves. The plains were rich with crops; there were numerous fruit orchards, while the mountains beyond the plains were bare and brown. The peaks were embroiled in battle; at night, we could see the flashes of artillery. In the darkness, the situation was like summer lightning, cool and shadowy, without the oppressive heat that often precedes summer storms. Sometimes in the dark, we could hear the sounds of the army marching past our windows, and the rumble of trucks dragging heavy artillery. At night, traffic was frequent, with many donkeys carrying (ammunition boxes) on the road...