The cases where any sort of fear, even for a moment, obtains the mastery of a man are very rare. Sometimes in the case of a boy, whose nerves are more sensitive than a man's, and whose habit of self-control is less formed, a sudden shock will upset his mental balance. Sometimes a very egotistical man will succumb to danger long drawn out. The same applies to men who are very introspective. I have seen a man of obviously low intelligence break down on the eve of an attack. The anticipation of danger makes many men "windy," especially officers who are responsible for other lives than their own. But even where men are afraid it is generally not death that they fear. Their fear is a physical and instinctive shrinking from hurt, shock, and the unknown, which instinct obtains the mastery only through surprise, or through the exhaustion of the mind and will, or through a man being excessively self-centred. It is not the fear of death rationally considered; but an irrational physical instinct which all men possess, but which almost all can control. VIII IMAGINARY CONVERSATIONS II SCENE. _A dug-out in a wood somewhere in Flanders. Officers at tea._ HANCOCK. Damned glad to be out of that infernal firing trench, anyway. (_A dull report is heard in the distance._) There goes another torpedo! Wonder who's copt it this time! SMITH. For Christ's sake talk about something else! HANCOCK (_ignoring him_). Are we coming back to the same trenches, sir? CAPTAIN DODD. 'Spect so. HANCOCK. At the present rate we shall last another two spells. I hate this sort of bisnay. You go on month after month losing fellows the whole time, and at the end of it you're exactly where you started. I wish they'd get a move on. WHISTON. Tired of life? HANCOCK. If you call this life, yes! If this damned war is going on another two years, I hope to God I don't live to see the end of it. SMITH. If ever I get home ...! WHISTON. Well? SMITH. Won't I paint the town red, that's all! WHISTON. If ever I get home ... well, I guess I'll go home. No more razzle-dazzle for master! No, there's a little girl awaiting, and I know she thinks of me. Shan't wait any longer. HANCOCK (_heavily_). Don't think a chap's got any right to marry a girl under present circs. It's ten to one she's a widow before she's a mother. SMITH. Oh, shut up! CAPTAIN DODD (_gently_). To some women the kid would be just the one thing that made life bearable. HANCOCK (_reddening_). Sorry, sir; forgot you'd just done it. Course you're right. Depends absolutely on the girl. CAPTAIN DODD. Thanks. I say, Whiston, I'm going to B.H.Q. Care to come along? (_They go out together._) SCENE. _A path through a wood_. CAPTAIN DODD _and_ WHISTON _walking together, followed by a_ LANCE-CORPORAL. DODD. D'you believe in presentiments, Whiston? WHISTON (_doubtfully_). A year ago I should have laughed at you for asking. Now ... DODD. More things in heaven and earth ...?