1 He remembered aeroplanes since his earliest childhood.
2 He remembered thinking at the time: That poor devil is done for.
3 He remembered quite clearly that precious little morsel of chocolate.
4 He remembered them dimly, because they were spent chiefly in sleep or stupor.
5 He remembered the half-darkness of a basement kitchen, and a woman's cavernous mouth.
6 He remembered remembering contrary things, but those were false memories, products of self-deception.
7 He remembered his mother's statuesque body bending over the gas ring to stir at something in a saucepan.
8 He remembered the sort of terrified fascination with which he had watched them out of the corner of his eye.
9 He remembered the room where they lived, a dark, close-smelling room that seemed half filled by a bed with a white counterpane.
10 He remembered the day well, a pelting, drenching day when the water streamed down the window-pane and the light indoors was too dull to read by.
11 He remembered a cell with a plank bed, a sort of shelf sticking out from the wall, and a tin wash-basin, and meals of hot soup and bread and sometimes coffee.
12 He remembered how once he had been walking down a crowded street when a tremendous shout of hundreds of voices women's voices--had burst from a side-street a little way ahead.
13 He remembered how once, after the explosion of a rocket bomb, he had helped to drag a corpse out of some ruins, and had been astonished not only by the incredible weight of the thing, but by its rigidity and awkwardness to handle, which made it seem more like stone than flesh.
14 He remembered a surly barber arriving to scrape his chin and crop his hair, and businesslike, unsympathetic men in white coats feeling his pulse, tapping his reflexes, turning up his eyelids, running harsh fingers over him in search for broken bones, and shooting needles into his arm to make him sleep.
15 He remembered better the rackety, uneasy circumstances of the time: the periodical panics about air-raids and the sheltering in Tube stations, the piles of rubble everywhere, the unintelligible proclamations posted at street corners, the gangs of youths in shirts all the same colour, the enormous queues outside the bakeries, the intermittent machine-gun fire in the distance--above all, the fact that there was never enough to eat.