“The other day a saw a photo, taken on a picnic in 1915, of a group of people who came together daily. One of the men from the photo is in America, an other in Tientsin, me and another man in Urga, twenty two men are dead, whereas two died naturally, if sickness can be said to be more naturally than bullets, sabres and bayonets.

It’s my friends from here that I remember the most, on the whole, and specially those who no longer belong to this world. Those departed friends often reach my mind together in groups. It is like if, they are all together over there on the other side, and they sometimes get the idea, that they would reappear in my mind in large numbers, emerging clearly and saying: ´Do you remember that time, there and there, there were hustle and bustle, those where other times, do you remember?´ Yes, I do remember very well, and again and again I experience those same moments.”

Oscar Mamen do not want to think ahead. He concludes: