“I’ve never tried to,” said David quietly.
“But, good heavens, man, what’s your intellect given you for if you don’t use it?” almost shouted Corin. “Why, if I couldn’t see some plan in what the Powers above had arranged, I’d have chucked up the sponge long ago.”
David looked silently towards the far-off horizon. There was a queer little smile on his lips.
“Well?” demanded Corin.
David turned.
“I guess,” he said slowly, “you’d think a soldier a mighty poor sort of fellow who chucked up fighting because he didn’t understand the plans of his general. I guess God isn’t going to give each of us a special interview, and explain His plan of campaign, any more than a general is going to call each private to his tent and explain his before he sends him into battle. Of course if you figure out a plan in your own mind, and fight thinking it’s the right one, it’s a precious deal better than chucking up the sponge, but all the same, if you’re stuck on your own plan, you may go beyond your job by a long chalk, and it’s best to leave plans to your general. The only thing that matters is to get your orders clear, and with the muddle around you that’s not over easy. Anyhow, I don’t find it over easy.”
“But,” remarked Corin coolly, “if, as you maintain, no private is supposed to understand his general’s plan, and he is not to follow his own judgment, from whom is he to receive orders?”
“Officers,” returned David promptly.
Corin snorted. It was not exactly an ill-bred snort, you understand; nevertheless it was one.
“And will you kindly tell me where those officers are to be found?” he questioned loftily. “Look here, man, let’s drop simile for the moment. If you maintain that we human beings are incapable of understanding the plans of the Powers that be, how are we going to shape the course of our actions? We’ve got to work on some scheme, if we don’t drift. Who’s going to interpret that scheme to us, if we don’t interpret it for ourselves?”