He was forced to admit that as far as war was concerned he knew nothing of himself.
A sufficient time before he would have allowed the problem to kick its heels at the outer portals of his mind, but now he felt compelled to give serious attention to it.
A little panic-fear grew in his mind.

As his imagination went forward to a fight, he saw hideous possibilities.

He contemplated the lurking menaces of the future, and failed in an effort to see himself standing stoutly in the midst of them.

He recalled his visions of broken-bladed glory, but in the shadow of the impending tumult he suspected them to be impossible pictures.
He sprang from the bunk and began to pace nervously to and fro.

"Good Lord, what's th' matter with me ?" he said aloud.
He felt that in this crisis his laws of life were useless.