In his diary, and in the letters he sent to his wife, his patriotic zeal gives way to bitter complaints about the meaninglessness of the war and a growing contempt for the stupidity of his fellow officers that would only increase as his calculations came closer to the singularity. When he finally reached it, he could think of nothing more: he became so immersed that he failed to take cover during an enemy attack, and a mortar exploded a few metres away from his head. No one understood how he had survived.
