Two novellas in BÖll's characteristically leaden existentialist manner. The first, ""Adam,"" is an overview of the pointless military charade begun with the order to ""chase those spineless [Russians] right back to their steppes"" and ending with the symbolically meaningless slaughter of a private who has fled those same Russians, on his own doorstep in a village of no strategic interest. In the second, a claustrophobic tale of panic, boredom and superstition, a soldier's only certainty is his premonition of death, realized finally through a love that promises deliverance. In both there are occasional blistering ironies: the captain dying of head wounds, court-martialled for self-mutilation because he removed his helmet; the bridge hastily built on one order, allowed to stand long enough for refugees to be denied passage, then destroyed on a second order; and in both the characters are pitiful, uncomprehending automatons. BÖll has essentially only one story to tell and that may account for the minutiae (every gust of gasoline fumes, every bodily adjustment of the simplest act) and the repetitions. Relevance is not a point in the absurd situations he depicts and near intolerability is in his case tantamount to success.