Then, apparently satisfied, he continued: "I wish those who made this war had to do all the fighting.

I'm sick of it." "Already ?" I said.
"Yes; I was sick of it before we began to hit out.

What's the sense of it?
Here am I, five-and-twenty, hale, hearty, and strong, trying to get shot.

But of course one had to come.

I mean to make some of them pay for it, though." "But you volunteered." "Of course.