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(though the background is always in England—the
Germans have usually invaded half Kent;. And, as
in the first dream, I am vaguely gratified at "adding
to my war experience". I take out a patrol and am
quite keen about it.

This dream obviously dates from the autumn of
1917, when I made the choice which seemed like a
"potential death-sentence". If it proves anything it
is this; the fact that it was everybody's business to be
prepared to die for his country did not alter the in-
ward and entirely personal grievance one had against
being obliged to do it. The instinct of self-preservation
automatically sank below all arguments put forward
by one's "higher self59. UI don't want to die/' it in-
sisted. "I want to be a middle-aged man writing
memoirs, and not a 'glorious name' living for ever-
more on a block of stone subject to the inevitable
attritions and obfuscations caused by climate." "But
your deathless name will be invisibly inscribed in
the annals of your imperishable race" argued some
celestial leader-writer. "I prefer to peruse to-morrow's
Times in normal decrepitude" replied ignoble self-

It would be an exaggeration if I were to describe
Slateford as a depressing place by daylight. The doc-
tors did everything possible to counteract gloom, and
the wrecked faces were outnumbered by those who
were emerging from their nervous disorders. But the
War Office had wasted no money on interior deco-
ration; consequently the place had the melancholy
atmosphere of a decayed hydro, redeemed only by
its healthy situation and pleasant view of the Pent-
land Hills. By daylight the doctors dealt successfully