Men who adopt the profession of arms submit their own free will to a law of perpetual constraint. On their own accord, they reject the right to live where they choose, to speak what they think, to dress as they like. From the moment they become soldiers, it needs but an order to settle them in this place, to move them to that, to separate them from their families and dislocate from their normal lives.
In the world of command, they must rise, march, run, endure bad weather, go without sleep or food, be isolated in a distant post, work until they drop. They have ceased to become the masters of their own fate. If they drop in their track, if their ashes are scattered to the four winds, that is all part and a parcelof their job.
So when life is dragging you back with difficulties, it means that it’s going to launch you into something great.