"[after killing a French comrade] I didn't want to kill you. But you jumped in here like that. What would you have done? It's... it's just I'd never met you before... like this... face to face. I just saw your rifle... your bayonet... grenades. If we threw all those away... we could be brothers. But they never want us to know that, do they? They never want us to know. We each have mothers... fathers... the same... fear of death. The same... pain. The same... everything. Everything. Forgive me, comrade. I could write... to your family. Yes... Yes, I'll write!"