I must go and dress for Church parade.

* * * * *

To P.C., September, 1915.

“I believe that if I could choose a day of heavy fighting of any kind I liked for my draft, I should choose to spend a day in trenches, under heavy fire without being able to return it.  The fine things of war spring from your chance of being killed:  the ugly things from your chance of killing.”

* * * * *

September, 1915.

TO THE SAME.

“I wonder how long H——­ ’s ‘delirious joy’ at going to the front will last.  Those who have seen a campaign here are all thoroughly converted to my view of fronts.  I can’t imagine a keener soldier than F——­, and even he says he doesn’t care if he never sees another Turk, and as to France, you might as well say, ‘Hurrah, I’m off to Hell.’  Pat M——­ goes as far as to say that no sane fellow ever has been bucked at going to the front, as distinguished from being anxious to do his duty by going there.  But I don’t agree with him.  Did you see about the case of a Captain in the Sikhs, who deserted from Peshawar, went to England, enlisted as a private under an assumed name, and was killed in Flanders?  The psychology of that man would be very interesting to analyse.  It can’t have been sense of duty, because he knew he was flagrantly violating his duty.  Nor can you explain it by some higher call of duty than his duty as a Sikh Officer, like the duty which makes martyrs disobey emperors.  It must have been just the primitive passion for a fight.  But if it was that, to indulge it was a bad, weak and vicious thing to do.  Yet it clearly wasn’t a selfish thing to do:  on the contrary, it was heroic.  He deliberately sacrificed his rank, pay, and prospects and exposed himself to great danger.  Still, as far as I can see, he only did it because his passion for fighting was stronger than every other consideration, and therefore he seems to me to be morally in the same class as the man who runs away with his neighbour’s wife, or any other victim of strong (and largely noble) passions.  And I believe that the people who say they are longing to be at the front can be divided into three classes (1) those who merely say so because it is the right thing to say, and have never thought or wished about it on their own. (2) Those who deliberately desire to drink the bitterest cup that they can find in these times of trouble.  These men are heroes, and are the men who in peace choose a mission to lepers. (3) The savages, who want to indulge their primitive passions.  Perhaps one ought to add as the largest class (4) those who don’t imagine what it is like, who think it will be exciting, seeing life, an experience, and so on, and don’t think of its reality or meaning at all.”

* * * * *

AMARA.
Thursday, September 2nd, 1915.

TO HIS MOTHER.