（maps, diary entries, writings in many languages, paragraphs cut out of other books.）All that is missing is his own name.

There is still no clue to who he actually is, nameless, without rank or battalion or squadron. Hana was carrying a long mirror in front of her down the hall. She would pause because of the weight of it and then move forward, the mirror reflecting the old dark pink of the passageway. 

The Englishman had wanted to see himself. Before she stepped into the room she carefully turned the reflection upon herself, not wanting the light to bounce indirectly from the window into his face.She stood on a chair at the foot of the bed and slowly tilted the mirror down at him. She was in this position, her hands braced out in front of her, when she heard the faint shouts. 

 “Keep the mirror still, my dear,” The English patient said.“I think there is someone shouting. Do you hear it?”“It’s the boy. You’d better go and find out.” She leaned the mirror against the wall and rushed down the corridor. She paused outside waiting for the next yell. When it came she took off through the garden and into the fields above the house.