On One Soldier's View of Heroism

"......I tried to make myself believe it was grand thing to have my garments saturated with water, my feet cold and wet, my miserable straw hat torn by the breezes, no tent, no blanket, no supper to speak of. This, I said to myself, is heroism and I am a first-class hero; but it wouldn't work. Like Banquo's ghost, the thought would not go down that a good hot stove, with plenty of champagne and oysters would be good enough for the likes of me and it was then I made up my mind, if I ever married an heiress, to live for the remainder of my days in a brown stone front and retire from the hero business forever." Lieutenant John Bourke, circa the early 1890s...……...I've probably read this about a hundred times and every time that I do I can't help but think that it wasn't meant for folks like me, who despise war, but for others who seemingly love it (many of whom are content to let others do the killing and dying); the usual suspects, etc..