An Extract from If the War Goes on Another Two Years by Herman Hesse

A great change had come over the city; there were no shops to be seen and the streets were lifeless. Before long, a man with a tin number pinned to his hat came up to me and asked me what I was doing. I said I was taking a walk.

“Have you got a permit?”

I didn’t understand…he ordered me to follow him to the nearest police station.

An official looked me over. “You were taking a walk without a permit…The penalty: you are forbidden to wear shoes for three days. Take off your shoes!”

I took off my shoes.

The official was struck with horror. “Leather shoes! Where did you get them? Are you completely out of your mind?…Don’t you know that the wearing of leather shoes in any shape or form by civilians is prohibited?-Your shoes are confiscated…Take this man to Office 19, Room 8!”

I was driven barefoot through several streets…I was pushed into a room and questioned by another official.

“You were picked up on the street without identification papers. You are fined two thousand gulden.”

“I haven’t that much money on me. Couldn’t you lock me up for a while instead?”

“No, my friend, if you can’t pay the trifling fine, I shall have to impose our heaviest penalty, temporary withdrawal of your existence permit! Kindly hand me your existence card!”

I had none.

…

“You’ve put yourself in a very nasty position,” he began. “You have been living in this city without an existence permit. You are aware no doubt that the heaviest penalties are in order.”

“I realize that I am quite unequal to the situation and that my position can only get worse and worse. –Couldn’t you condemn me to death?”

“I understand,” he said amiably “But anybody could come asking for that! In any case, you need a demise card. Can you afford one?”

“No, I haven’t got that much money. But I’d give all I have. I have an enormous desire to die.”

“But dying isn’t so simple. You belong to the state, my dear man, you are obligated to the state, body and soul.”

“Well, you see, I was away for a while. Two or three years ago I took refuge in the cosmic, and frankly I had rather supposed the war would be over by the time I got back. But tell me, can you get me a demise card? I’d be ever so grateful.”

“It may be possible. But first you’ll need an existence permit…On my recommendation they’ll issue you a temporary existence card. But it will only be valid for two days.”

“May I ask you a question? You must realize how little I know about what’s been going on…Well, here’s what I’d like to know: how can life go on under these conditions? How can people stand it?”

“Oh, they’re not so badly off. Your situation is exceptional: a civilian- and without papers! There are very few civilians left. Practically everyone who isn’t a soldier is a civil servant. That makes life bearable for most people, a good many are genuinely happy…You’ve lost contact with the world. Go out into the street, talk to people; then make a slight mental effort and ask yourself: What have we got left? What is the substance of our lives? Only one answer is possible: The war is all we have left!”