#Slaughterhouse 5 poo tee weet full

'Listen-' I said, 'I'm writing this book about Dresden. And then, speaking gravely and elegantly into the telephone, I ask the telephone operators to connect me with this friend or that one, from whom I have not heard in years. I get drunk, and I drive my wife away with a breath like mustard gas and roses. I have this disease late at night sometimes, involving alcohol and the telephone. I had the Bell Telephone Company find him for me. We had never expected to make any money after the war, but we were doing quite well. We had been privates in the war, infantry scouts. He was a district attorneyin Pennsylvania. When I was somewhat younger, working on my famous Dresden book, I asked an old war buddy named Bernard V. And even if wars didn't keep coming like glaciers, there would still be plain old death. What do you say, Harrison Starr?' 'I say, 'Why don't you write an anti- glacier book instead?'' What he meant, of course, was that there would always be wars, that they were as easy to stop as glaciers. 'I guess.' 'You know what I say to people when I hear they're writing anti-war books?' 'No. I said that to Harrison Starr, the movie-maker, one time, and he raised his eyebrows and inquired, 'Is it an anti- war book?' 'Yes,' I said. Over the years, people I've met have often asked me what I'm working on, and I've usually replied that the main thing was a book about Dresden. The people I meet when I walk down the street, They say, 'What's your name?' And I say, 'My name is Yon Yonson, I work in Wisconsin.' And so on to infinity. I think of how useless the Dresden part of my memory has been, and yet how tempting Dresden has been to write about, and I am reminded of the famous limerick: There was a young man from Stamboul, Who soliloquized thus to his tool: 'You took all my wealth and you ruined my health, and now you won't pee, you old fool.' And I'm reminded, too, of the song that goes: My name is Yon Yonson, I work in Wisconsin, I work in a lumbermill there.

#Slaughterhouse 5 poo tee weet full

And not many words come now, either, when I have become an old fart with his memories and his Pall Malls, with his sons full grown. But not many words about Dresden came from my mind then - not enough of them to make a book, anyway. And I thought, too, that it would be a masterpiece or at least make me a lot of money, since the subject was so big. When I got home from the Second World War twenty-three years ago, I thought it would be easy for me to write about the destruction of Dresden, since all I would have to do would be to report what I had seen. I like that very much: 'If the accident will.' I would hate to tell you what this lousy little book cost me in money and anxiety and time. He sent O'Hare a postcard at Christmastime, and here is what it said: 'I wish you and your family also as to your friend a Merry Christmas and a happy New Year and I hope hat we'll meet again in a world of peace and freedom in the taxicab if the accident will.' His mother was incinerated in the Dresden fire-storm.

He had a pleasant little apartment, and his daughter was getting an excellent education.

We asked him how it was to live under Communism, and he said that it was terrible at first, because everybody had to work so hard, and because there wasn't much shelter or food or clothing. He told us that he was a prisoner of the Americans for a while. O'Hare, and we made friends with a cab driver, who took us to the slaughterhouse where we had been locked up at night as prisoners of war. I went back there with an old war buddy, Bernard V. There must be tons of human bone meal in the ground. It looked a lot like Dayton, Ohio, more open spaces than Dayton has. I really did go to Dresden with Guggenheim money (God love it) in 1967. Another guy I knew really did threaten to have his personal enemies killed by hired gunmen after the war. One guy I knew really was shot for taking a teapot that wasn't his. The war parts, anyway, are pretty much true.