His only certain refuge lies in the fact that he can be taught to use a
rifle in a few weeks; and in a few weeks perhaps it becomes clear to him
that to accept that offer and the pay that goes with it--poor as it
is--is his only chance.

There are others, again--perhaps a very large number--who do not care
much about the war in itself, and probably have only the vaguest notion
of what it is all about, but for them to join the ranks means adventure,
comradeship, the open air--all fascinating things; and they hail the
prospect with joy as an escape from intolerable dullness--from the
monotony of the desk and the stuffy office, from the dreary round and
mechanical routine of the factory bench, from the depressing environment
of "home" and domestic squalor.

I must confess--though I have no general prejudice in favour of
war--that I have been much struck, since the outbreak of the present
one, by the altered look of crowds of young men whom I personally
know--who are now drilling or otherwise preparing for it. The gay look
on their faces, the blood in their cheeks, the upright carriage and
quick, elate step--when compared with the hang-dog, sallow, dull
creatures I knew before--all testify to the working of some magic
influence.

As I say, I do not think that this influence in most cases has much to
do with enthusiasm for the "cause" or any mere lust of "battle" (happily
indeed for the most part they do not for a moment realize what modern
battle means). It is simply escape from the hateful conditions of
present-day commercialism and its hideous wage-slavery into something
like the normal life of young manhood--a life in the open under the wide
sky, blood-stirring enterprise, risk if you will, co-operation and