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In addition to being a story of a soldier at war, The Forgotten Soldier is also the story of a boy becoming a man. Sajer is not even 16 when he joins the army as a means of escaping a forced labor battalion. The early parts of the book are divided between rueful reflections on the innocence of youth and the stark recognition that he is on a journey that will bury that innocence once and for all. He starts off idealistic, eager to put aside the monotony of auxiliary duty and see real action on the front. Upon his first brush with combat, he is nervous and hesitant, and is shocked when, after his first brush with battle, he witnesses the cold-blooded execution of enemy prisoners.
Sajer’s years in the army are not without more conventional markers of growing up. He has his first love. He learns to enjoy stereotypically military privileges like cigarettes and alcohol, which initially disgusted him. However, even these conventional aspects of coming of age are colored by war. He meets Paula while he is on leave, and afterward he loses touch with her in the chaos of post-war Europe. He develops a taste for alcohol and cigarettes because they provide a rare moment of joy and bonding amid boundless privation and suffering on the front. His coming of age is inextricable from his experience of war.
Most notably, he develops a profound sense of cynicism. The Sajer narrating this book has long ago dispensed with any illusions regarding the legality, morality, or even sanity of war, but it takes his younger self longer to let go of childhood illusions. It isn’t until fairly late in the narrative that Sajer starts to ignore the rousing speeches of his officers, realizing that he has only “the strictly limited choice between combat in the most desperate circumstances, captivity, or the end, once and for all” (396). Yet even in unimaginable hardship, Sajer comes to define his manhood in his ability to endure and persist. Many coming-of-age rituals involve the passing of a test, and Sajer passes his, although with the great irony that doing so leaves him ill-equipped to live a life free of such endless terror.
Sajer and his fellow soldiers ultimately find their purpose in the company of one another, rather than the cause they are ostensibly serving or the home they imagine themselves defending. After his first real test in battle, Sajer communicates this idea clearly: “Looking back on everything that happened, I cannot regret having belonged to a combat unit. We discovered a sense of comradeship which I have never found again, inexplicable and steady, through thick and thin” (113). The experience of war, whether the endless drudgery of marches and patrols, fighting off cold and hunger for endless stretches, and then the living nightmare of combat, places who experience those things together in a class by themselves. The intensity of shared feeling from having survived, and the inability to communicate the full truth to those without similar experiences, produces a unique bond among Sajer and his comrades.
The most important comrade of all is Hals, who is astonishingly at Sajer’s side at so many key moments, an acerbic but also boisterous companion who somehow manages to hang onto a measure of joy amidst the worst of circumstances. Hals is a connection to a world of happiness and joviality which every other aspect of life seems to foreclose. This makes it noteworthy that as Sajer is bringing his narrative to a close, it is not the memories of death, destruction, cold, but rather of friends, dead, alive, and unknown, whose memories still provide a flicker of joy in a postwar world he can barely comprehend.
However, there is a dark counterpart to soldierly comradeship. War does not produce comradeship among civilians who have suffered together, as Sajer sees in Ukraine. Rather, it produces bitter divisions, fractured loyalties, and endless cycles of revenge. While the Ukrainians initially support the German invasion, the landscape changes once the Soviets gain the upper hand:
[T]he Ukrainian population had to choose, and be actively for one side or another. The partisans either killed or enlisted the young Ukrainians who had until then been so respectful to us. The invisible war triumphed: war which no longer offered any retreat, or calm, or pity. Wars of subversion have no face” (332).
As Sajer observes here, the circumstances that bind soldiers together, and often induce respect for the soldiers of the other side, turn neighbor against neighbor, family against family.
Over Sajer’s long and grueling evolution as a soldier, his relationship to the constant prospect of his own death goes through many phases. When he is young and relatively inexperienced, he views death as an external force: the sight of dead Soviet prisoners being stacked to provide warmth, a comrade that bleeds out, or an enemy prisoner summarily executed. Such sights are revolting and unsettling, but they do not fundamentally alter Sajer’s sense of himself—rather, they create a dissonance between him and his environment. On his first trip to a real combat zone, Sajer exhibits more awe than fear, fixated on the braziers that Soviet troops are lighting, and amazed at the courage and steadfastness of the men who endure these travails day after day.
Even after Sajer volunteers for a combat unit, the prospect of dying remains inconceivable: “None of us could imagine his own death. Some would be killed—we all knew that—but each one imagined himself doing the burying […] [Death] was something which happened to other people—thousands of them—but never to oneself” (174). For Sajer and his comrades, a sense of hope lingers that somehow they can remain exempt from the realities right in front of them.
After undergoing a relentless series of offensives and retreats, each feeding into a vicious cycle of destroyed units and evacuated territory, Sajer and his fellow soldiers can no longer view death so optimistically. They are motivated to fight not by ideology but by “simple fear […]. The idea of death, even when we accepted it, made us howl with powerless rage” (316). Sajer starts to look with a mixture of envy and pity on those who still have a shred of hope, partly wishing he could share in their sliver of optimism, while regretting that they too will have to go through the disillusionment that he has endured on so many occasions. As Sajer notes, “men who have embraced one idea can live only by and for that idea. Beyond it, they have nothing but their memories” (402). Once illusions are shattered, there is nothing to replace them.
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