helpless pose, passive, almost in prayer, places him as a quiet victim – a sacrifice to the warmachine. His vulnerability makes him sympathetic, but it also renders him childlike, if not effeminate.
Pity was an emasculating emotion, and injured and disabled men were well aware of that.
The doctor leads Anderson through the train looking at his patients, telling stories of heroic surgeries and narrow escapes from Zeppelin attacks. She wonders at how the patients were ‘so pitiful