Alfred writes to Hannelore. He complains about the ugliness he is forced to look at — the horror of the sick, injured and deformed. A fellow soldier, who informs him he will be examining the wounded to determine who to take on board, distracts him. Alfred does not think he is up to the task.
Alfred has very little empathy for others. Even in his fantasies, he struggles to feel pity for the wounded or the sick, despite the fact that he himself is dealing with a severe rash on his hands.