I was called up in the war and sent to a hospital. I dressed wounds, applied iodine, gave enemas, did blood transfusions. If the doctor ordered: 'Brecht, amputate a leg!', I would reply, 'Certainly, Your Excellency!', and cut off the leg. If I was told, 'Perform a trepanning!' I opened the man's skull and messed about with his brains. I saw how they patched fellows up, so as to cart them back to the Front as quickly as they could.