To me this chapter (VIII of part 3) is more attractive than the boastful phoney toughness of the previous one. Yes, the ultimate purpose of it is dreadful — warfare, but the transcendent feeling of belonging to a coordinated super-organism is beautiful and addictive. Sometimes you can experience something similar in a sports stadium, on a dance-floor, or a protest march, and I think Tolstoy portrays it more in that vein. Of course young Rostov takes it to silly extremes, as we have already come to expect.