On the train to Cologne, Paul receives the kindness of a nurse who ennobles his sacrifices for his country with clean sheets and personal care. At the Catholic hospital, the nuns pray during Morning Devotion, despite the men's wish for an extended sleep. A night nurse, rousted by insistent wardmates, scurries to the aid of Albert, whose wound has broken open and begun to bleed. Another nun, Sister Libertine, spreads cheer among the men, who repay her goodness with deep gratitude, especially after she returns Little Peter from almost certain death in the room beside the morgue. Marja Lewandowski, who brings along her child, shares pieces of sausage, and plumps up wilted pillows, represents motherhood and wifely regard for her husband, who craves intercourse with her after ten months in the hospital.
Paul's fondness for potato-cakes, a direct offshoot of his attitude toward his mother, symbolizes home and sacrifice. Like the men who dig into the earth with shovels and sometimes teeth and fingernails to survive bombardment, the potato is a grubby, humble outgrowth of the same soil, as well as a welcome treat when grated and cooked in patties. During the severe rationing at home, Paul's sister must stand in line for food, his father works late to support his household, and Paul's mother, saintly and unselfish, cooks the cakes and puts up whortleberry jam because they are his favorite foods. The gifts are so precious to Paul that he feels compelled to share them with the starving prisoners of war and with his buddies.
