His quiet smile

      There was general laughter at this, and Napier said with his quiet smile that we must resign ourselves to being regarded as callously irresponsible or rapaciously greedy. “Brutal indifference or selfish imperialism; those are the choices. As an old Scotch maidservant of my acquaintance used to say: ‘Ye cannae dae right for daein’ wrang!’


Flashman on the March, pp.286-7, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.



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No butcher’s bill

      For once — and for the only time in my experience of sixty years’ soldiering in heaven knows how many campaigns — there was no butcher’s bill. We hadn’t lost a man storming Magdala, just seventeen wounded, and with only two dead at Arogee and one careless chap who shot himself on the march up, I doubt if we had more than half a dozen fatalities in the whole campaign, mortally sick included. If there were nothing else to testify to Napier’s genius, that casualty return alone would do, for I never heard the like of it in war.



Flashman on the March, p.280, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Napier included

One thing was plain: given a few decent guns, the Salvation Army could have held Magdala against anyone, Napier included . . .

Flashman on the March, p.259, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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An enemy caught

From above it looked like the discharge from an overturned ant-hill spilling across the plain towards an enemy caught unprepared by the sheer speed of the attack.
       That was when Bob Napier earned his peerage.



Flashman on the March, p.238, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Warriors from their cradle

Speedy had said that of all the countless Galla tribes, the Wollos were the pick, and I could believe him and thank God they were Theodore’s sworn enemies, for if they’d opposed us I doubt if one of Napier’s army would ever have got back to the coast. They were warriors from their cradles, expert fighters, splendid horseman, and would rather cut throats than eat dinner.


Flashman on the March, p.145, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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A Flashy brag

. . . now that Napier was asking if there was anything more he could do for me, I did what I’d done so often, and put on a Flashy brag, the bravado of despair, I guess it is, the fraudsters instinct for playing out the charade.
     “I’d be obliged for a revolver and fifty rounds, sir. Oh, and a box of cheroots, if you have one to spare.”


Flashman on the March, pp.64-5, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Antique whiskers

. . . and then I remembered that this same Napier, with his antique whiskers and one foot in the grave, had recently married a spanking little filly of eighteen, which had plainly influenced his outlook on commerce with the fairer sex; no wonder he looked as though he’d been fed through a mangle.


Flashman on the March, p.58, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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He will surely do

      They were the kind of words you’d expect to hear from a Brooke or a Custer, spoken with a heroic flourish and a fist on a table. Napier said them with all the fervour of a man reading a railway time-table . . . but I thought, farewell and adieu, Brother Theodore, your goose is cooked; this quiet old buffer with the dreary whiskers may not shout the odds, but what he says he will surely do.


Flashman on the March, pp.53-4, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


Tags: Flashman, Flashman quotes, words.

Inner Flashman

He paused again. “Shall I continue?”
       At this point, when it was plain that some beastly folly was about to be unveiled, Inner Flashman would gladly have cried: “Not unless you wish to risk seeing a grown man burst into tears and run wailing into the Abyssinian night!” Outer Flashman, poor devil, could only sit sweating nonchalantly, going red in the face with funk and hoping that Napier might construe it as apoplectic rage at the prospect of having my travel plans upset.


Flashman on the March, p.51, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Elephant guns and theodolites

When he wasn’t being all heroic, chasing Sikhs with elephant guns and hammering Pathans on the border, he’d laid half the canals and most of the roads in northern India, from Lahore to the Khyber, and built Darjeeling.


Flashman on the March, p.49, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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The coolest fish

      If you’ve read Tom Brown you may remember a worthy called Crab Jones, of whom Hughes said that he was the coolest fish in Rugby, and if he were tumbled into the moon this minute he’d pick himself up without taking his hands out of his pockets. Bob Napier always reminded me of Crab, in the Sikh War, the Mutiny, China, and along the frontier: the same sure, unhurried style, the quiet voice, the methodical calm that drove his more excitable subordinates wild. He was also the best engineer in the army, and the most successful commander of troop I ever knew.

Flashman on the March, p.49, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.



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Certain defeat

. . . for perhaps the first time in her long and turbulent history Britain was going into a war which everyone believed we were going to lose. Everyone, that is, except Bughunter Bob Napier.


Flashman on the March, p.27, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.



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Lieutenant-General Sir Robert Napier to you

      “Napier? Not Bob the Bughunter? What the blazes is he doing in Abyssinia?”


Flashman on the March, p.2, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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