“ We must fight!’ gurgled the hoarse voice of a man who had lain stiff in the devouring mud ever since our awakening; ‘we’ve got to!’ His body turned heavily over. ‘We’ve got to give all we have, our strength and our skins and our hearts, all our life and what pleasures are left us. The life of prisoners as we are, we’ve got to take it in both hands. You’ve got to endure everything, even injustice—and the king that’s reigning now—and the shameful and disgusting sights we see, so as to come out on top, and win. But if we’ve got to make such a sacrifice,’ adds the shapeless man, turning over again, ‘it’s because we’re fighting for progress, not for a country; against error, not against a country.’” (Henri Barbusse, trans. Fitzwater Wray, New York: E. T. Dutton and Co., 1917, p. 345.)