the satisfaction in survival, which is a kind of pleasure, can become a dangerous and insatiable passion. it feeds on its occasions. the larger and more frequent the heaps of dead which a survivor confronts, the stronger and more insistent becomes his need for them. the careers of heroes and soldiers suggest that a kind of addiction ensues, which in the end becomes incurable. the usual explanation of this is that such men can only breathe in danger ; to them an existence without danger is stale and flat; they find no savour in a peaceful life. the attraction of danger should not be underestimated, but what we tend to forget is that such men do not set out on their adventures alone. there are others with them who succumb to the danger and this affords them the continually repeated pleasure of survival, which is what they really need and what they can no longer do without. in order to satisfy this craving it is not always necessary to expose oneself to danger. no one man can himself kill enough other men. on a battlefield, however, there are thousands all acting in the same way, and, if a man is their commander, if he controls their movements, if the very battle springs from his decision, then he can appropriate to himself all the dead bodies which result from it, for he is responsible for them. it is not for nothing that the commander in the field bears his proud title.
Israel