Was there not something grotesque about using other people’s suffering to “achieve this invigorating sense of mortal danger”? Did the duty—social, political, moral, aesthetic—mean nothing more than risking terrible burns, or getting shot in the neck, or being gored? And would it be enough to volunteer for the risk—or was dying the only way of proving one’s commitment? Even those who did brave the journey to Sarajevo discovered how difficult it was to answer these questions.
