Showing posts with label First World War. Show all posts
Showing posts with label First World War. Show all posts

Monday, 6 May 2013

The only good reason for fighting


     A sudden, odd thought struck Mr Franklin, and it seemed doubly odd that it had only just occurred to him.
     ‘D’you think England will win this war?’
     ‘Ask them,’ said the General, and jerked his thumb at the window, grinning. Then he considered, the eyes narrowing in the flushed, ancient face. ‘Probably— yes, on balance, we ought to win. Germany can lick Russia, but not Britain and France together. But they’ll take a lot of beating, if it’s a fight to the finish. Yes, I’d say we were odds on to win — not that it matters all that much.’
     Mr Franklin stared at him in astonishment. ‘You can’t mean that — it doesn’t make sense!’
     Sir Harry turned to look at him, then glanced out the window again.
     ‘It isn’t important whether you win or lose,’ he said, ‘so long as you survive. So long as your people survive. And that’s the only good reason for fighting that anyone ever invented. The survival of your people and race and kind. That’s the only victory that matters.’


Mr American, p.525, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Friday, 3 May 2013

Middling general



‘. . . this’ll be the last outbreak of war I’ll see, and for once I shan’t be going. Went to South Africa, you know— just as a tourist, during the Boer business. Interesting. But not this time — unless Kitchener asks me along as a guest.’ He snorted with laughter at the thought. ‘He’ll be the man they send for, you’ll see. Middling general — we could do worse. Now where the hell have those soldiers got to? Trust the Guards to lose their way.’


Mr American, p.524, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.



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Friday, 26 April 2013

How many Gettysburgs



‘I’d also like to remind our jingo-drunk public that they haven’t the least notion what a war with modern weapons will be like and the only fellows who can even guess are your American survivors from places like Antietam and Shiloh — that’s the only real war there’s been in a hundred years.’ The General pointed an accusing spoon at Mr Franklin. ‘Know how many men went down at Gettysburg? Fifty thousand — and if I hadn’t moved damned lively I’d have been one of ’em. Well, how many Gettysburgs d’you think it will take to settle a scrap between the kind of forces under arms in Europe today? I don’t know — perhaps a month of it would make everyone cry quits, but knowing the sort of clowns who’ll be in command — who are always in command — I take leave to doubt it.’


Mr American, p.520, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.



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Wednesday, 24 April 2013

What you're cheering for



‘I only wish,’ the General added. ‘that when it happens I could take all the asses who’ll be waving flags and cheering and crowding the recruitment office — take ’em all by one collective arm, and say: “Now then, Jack, you know what you’re cheering for? You’re cheering at the prospect of having a soft-nosed bullet fired into your pelvis, shattering the bone and spreading it in splinters all through your intestines, and dying in agony two days later — or, if you’re really unlucky, surviving for a lifetime of pain, unable to walk, a burden to everyone, and a dam’ nuisance to the country that will pay you a pension you can’t live off. That, Jack,” I’d tell ’em, “is what you’re cheering for.” I’d probably be locked up.’


Mr American, p.520, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Monday, 22 April 2013

General Flashman and the Great War, Part 3



     ‘By that reckoning,’ said Mr Franklin, ‘no one would ever stand up to a brute or a bully.’
     ‘Course they would — when it was worth while. You don’t remember the war of 1870 — when those same Germans marched on Paris. Smallish war — but suppose we’d been helping the frogs then? It wouldn’t have been over half as quick, and God knows how many folk would have died who are still happily going about their business in Alsace and Lorraine. Same thing today — we should simply tell the Kaiser that if his fleet puts its nose out of the Baltic we’ll send it to the bottom — that satisfies the Frogs, up to a point, since it guarantees their northern coast, it satisfies the Kaiser who’ll swallow his pride for the sake of us keeping out of the war, and it saves his pretty little ships as well. And five years from now, Liege will be doing rather well — whether it’s got a German provost-marshall still or not. And that won’t matter a damn, to people whose main concern is eating, drinking, fornicating, making money, and seeing their children grow up safe and healthy.’


* Should be read in conjunction with General Flashman and the Great War, Part 1 & General Flashman and the Great War, Part 2 [Speedicut]


Mr American, p.519, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Thursday, 18 April 2013

General Flashman and the Great War, Part 2



*‘Anyway, imagine yourself a Belgian — in Liege, say. Along come the Prussians, and invade you. What about it? — a few cars commandeered, a shop or two looted, half a dozen girls knocked up, a provost marshal installed, and the storm’s passed. Fierce fighting with the Frogs, who squeal like hell because Britain refuses to help, the Germans reach Paris, peace concluded, and that’s that. And there you are, getting on with your garden in Liege. But — ‘ the General waved his bony finger. ‘Suppose Britain helps — sends forces to aid little Belgium — and the Frogs — against the Teuton horde? what then? Belgian resistance is stiffened, the Frogs manage to stop the invaders, a hell of a war is waged all over Belgium and north-east France, and after God knows how much slaughter and destruction the the Germans are beat — or not, as the case may be. How’s Liege doing? I’ll tell you — it’s a bloody shambles. You’re lying mangled in your cabbage patch, your wife’s had her legs blown off, your daughters have been raped, and your house is a mass of rubble. You’re a lot better off for British intervention, ain’t you?’ He sat back grinning sardonically.


* Should be read in conjunction with General Flashman and the Great War, Part 1 [Speedicut]

Mr American, pp.518-19, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Tuesday, 16 April 2013

General Flashman and the Great War, Part 1



     Mr Franklin replied non-committally, and asked the General what he thought of the war situation. The old man shrugged.
     ‘Contemptible — but of course it always is. We should stay out, and to hell with Belgium. After all, it’s stretching things to say we’re committed to ’em, and we’d be doing ’em a favour — and the frogs too.’
     ‘By not protecting them, you mean? I don’t quite see that.’
     ‘You wouldn’t — because like most idiots you think of war being between states - coloured blobs on the map. You think if we can keep Belgium green, or whatever colour it is, instead of Prussian blue, then hurrah for everyone. But war ain’t between coloured blobs — it’s between people. You know what people are, I suppose? — chaps in trousers, and women in skirts, and kids in small clothes.’*

*See also General Flashman and the Great War, Part 2 [Speedicut]


Mr American, p.518, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.


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Friday, 22 March 2013

Some half-baked crank notion



‘. . . I won’t have you ruin your life for some half-baked crank notion that thinks the way to get votes for women is to bomb railway trains. Don’t you see it’s the last thing that can work — no government, not even that weak-kneed rabble of Asquith’s, dare give into terror and vandalism? Anyway, they’ll have a dam’ sight more important things to think of shortly, with this next war that the country’s spoiling for.’ Sir Harry snorted derisively. ‘Look at ’em — legions of bloodthirsty lunatics drilling in Ireland, workers within an ace of a general strike — dammit, even you women have got the fighting fever, with your smashing and bombing and shooting up locomotives. Any fool can see it’ll end in civil war — or more likely our tackling the Kaiser when he takes a slap at Russia or France, which he’s itching to do. Your votes are going to look like small beer, Button — which is why you’re sure to get ’em in the end, and much good they’ll do you. But war or not, you’ll get ’em all the faster if you lie low and work away quietly.’

Mr American, pp.428-9, Pan Books, paperback edition 1982.



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