The Bridgeport evening farmer. [volume] (Bridgeport, Conn.) 1866-1917, 1917-01-16
FACING DEATH
(Student in Arms, himself killed dur
ing an attack, just after writing It,
in London Spectator.l

(Student in Arms, himself killed dur
ing an attack, just after writing it,
in London Spectator.)
Lam not a psychologist, and I have
not seen many people die in their
sbeds; but it is established that very
few people are afraid of natural
death when 1t comes to the test. A
violent death such as death in battle
is obviously a different matter. 1t
comes to man when he is in the full
possession of his health and vigOr, and
when every physical instinct is urging
him to self preservation. If a, man
feared death in such circumstances
one could not be surprised, and yet in
the present war hundreds of thou
sands of men have gone to meet prac-
tically certain destruction without CIV
ing a sign of terror. Their emotions
seem to be numbed. Noises, sights.
and sensations which would ordinarily
produce intense pity, sorrow, or dread
have no effect on them at all, and
yet never was their mind clearer, their
sight. hearing, ETC., more acute. But
with the issue before them, with vic
tory or death or the prospect of eter-
nifty, their minds blankly refuse to
come<o grips. 1t is before an attack
that man is more liable to fear-be-
fore his blood is hot, and while he still
has leisure to think. The trouble may
begin a day or two in advance, when
he is first told of the attack which is
likely to mean death to himself and so
many of his chums. One INDUCES in
regrets about the home one may never
see again. One is rather sorry for
ones self; but such self-pity is not
wholly unpleasant. One feels mildly
heroic, which is not wholly disagree
able either. Very few men are afraid
of death in the abstract Very few
men believe in hell or are tortured by
their consciences.
But as the hour approaches when
the attack is due to be launched the
strain becomes more tense. The men
are probably cooped up in very small
space. Movement is restricted.
Matches must not be struck. Voices
must be fushed to q whisper. Shells
bursting and machine guns rafting
bring home the grim reality of the af
fair. It is then more than at any other
time in an attack that man has to
"face the spectres OF the mind" and
lay them if he can.
4 he vast majority experiences more
or less violent physical shrinking from
the pain of death and wounds, espe-
ciaIly when they are obliged to be
physically inactive, and when they
have nothing else to think about. This
kind OF dread is, in the case of a good
many men, intensified by darkness and
suspense, and by the deafening noise
and shock that accompany the detona-
ton Of high explosives. But it cannot
properly be called the fear of death,
and it is a purely physical reaction
which can be, and nearly always is,
controlled by the mind. Last of Al
there is the repulsion and loathing for
the whole business of war, with its
bloody ruthlessness, it's fiendish ingen-
uity, and it's insensate cruelty, that
comes to a man after battle, when
the tortured and dfsmembered dead
lie strewn about the trench, and the
wounded groan from No-Man's-Land.
But neither is that the fear Of death.
1t is repulsion which breeds hot
anger more often than cold fear, reck-
less hatred Of life more often than
object clinginE to it. But even where