eared on practically every slip
of paper, _cowardice_; the second was not so nearly unanimous, but
appears on a strong majority of the papers, _selfishness_; and the third
was evidently _conceitedness_, though the defect was worded in
different ways, as _big head_, _crust_, and the like.

In other words, the virtues which the soldier most admires and regarding
which he had evidently learned the most valuable lessons, are courage,
unselfishness or cooperativeness, and modesty.

The record of our soldiers has proved beyond a doubt that once you get
men into groups with a common and a worth-while purpose, courage--both
the reckless courage that comes by instinct and that higher type, the
courage of the man who recognizes his danger--can no longer be assumed
to be a rare virtue. It is a very common virtue. Cowardice is infinitely
rarer. The citations and the casualty records, for instance, have
completely rehabilitated the Jew as a fighting man, and the faithful
need no longer go back to Josephus for their war legends.

Not all the courage and fortitude was shown on the field of battle. We
must not forget that last fall we suffered from by far the most serious
epidemic in the history of America, and, in the dark days in our
training camps, opportunities were offered, and gladly accepted, for a
display of heroism and devotion of the highest type.

In the realm of fortitude, if not of physical courage, the war certainly
tapped new sources of determination and provided a kind of stimulus
which would keep a man to whom no personal glory or conspicuousness
could possibly come, some poor devil sentenced to a swivel chair,
laboring in that same chair day and night for the purpose of making some
single improvement in nut or bolt, or perhaps filing card. Given the
impetus of a great common purpose, our possibilities for industry are
limitless.

One thing that mankind should have learned long since is that, broadly
speaking, selfishness as a guiding motive is essentially negative--the
absence of something better--the man is a rare exception who does not
lose himself and his self-interest in the conception or the ambition of
the group, the squad or battalion or regiment, the division, the army or
the nation. An interesting side-light upon this is the fact that
two-thirds of the men who get into trouble in the Army, or at any rate
who get into sufficiently serious trouble to land them in Fort
Leavenworth, are markedly of the ego-c