Showing posts with label Russia. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Russia. 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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Wednesday, 25 July 2012

Old General What’s-his-name



      “Good Lord!” he exclaimed. “I believe I know this chap — but no, it can’t be, surely! Only he’s uncommonly like that old general . . . oh, what’s-his-name? You know made such a hash of the Khartoum business, with Gordon . . . yes, and years ago he won a great name in Russia, and the Mutiny — V.C. and knighthood — it’s on the tip of my tongue —”


Flashman and the Tiger, p.310, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 6 August 2009

Depressing journeys



I’ve known dreary, depressing journeys, but that* was the limit; I’d sooner walk through Wales.


*travelling as a military prisoner through the Russian steppes


Flashman at the Charge, p.127, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 5 August 2009

There is no sky



I’ve seen big countries before – the American plains on the old wagon-trails west of St Louis… or the Saskatchewan prairies in grasshopper time… But Russia is bigger: there is no sky, only empty space overhead, and no horizon, only a distant haze, and endless miles of sun-scorched rank grass and emptiness.



Flashman at the Charge, p.126, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 4 August 2009

A cheery place



Oh, it was a cheery place alright, this great empire of Russia as I first saw it in the autumn of ’54 – a great ill-worked wilderness ruled by a small landed aristocracy with their feet on the necks of a huge human-animal population, with Cossack devils keeping order when required.





Flashman at the Charge, p.126, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 31 July 2009

Serf watch




I’ve seen a lot of human sorrow and misery in my time, but the lot of the Russian serf was the most appalling I’ve ever struck.



Flashman at the Charge, p.125, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Thursday, 11 June 2009

Pass the marmalade, Amelia



They [the English public] wanted blood, gallons of it, and to read of grape-shot smashing great lanes through Russian ranks, and stern and noble Britons skewering Cossacks, and Russia towns in flames – and they would be able to shake their heads over the losses of our gallant fellows, sacrificed to stern duty, and wolf down their kidneys and muffins in their warm breakfast rooms, saying: ‘Dreadful work this, but by George, England never shirked yet, whatever the price. Pass the marmalade, Amelia; I’m proud to be a Briton this day, let me tell you.’



Flashman at the Charge, p.52, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 10 June 2009

Give war a chance



But there was never any hope of a peace being patched up, not with the mood abroad in England that summer. They were savage – they had seen their army and navy sail away with drums beating and fifes tooting, and ‘Rule Britannia’ playing, and the press promising swift and condign punishment for the Muscovite tyrant, and street corner orators raving about how British steel would strike oppression down, and they were like a crowd come to a prize-fight where the two pugs don’t fight, but spar and weave and never come to grips.



Flashman at the Charge, pp.51-2, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 9 June 2009

Big place, ain’t it?




…I was as close to the conduct of the [Crimean] war in the summer of ’54 as anyone, and I can tell you truthfully that the official view of the thing was:
   ‘Well, here we are, the French and ourselves, at war with Russia, in order to protect Turkey. Ve-ry good. What shall we do, then? Better attack Russia, eh? H’m, yes. (Pause). Big place, ain’t it?



Flashman at the Charge, p.51, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Tuesday, 26 May 2009

Britannia’s flashing eyes



To hear them, all we had to do was march into Moscow when we felt like it, with the Frogs carrying our packs for us and the cowardly Russians skulking away before Britannia’s flashing eyes.



Flashman at the Charge, p.41, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 6 June 2008

A variety of jails


I have been in a variety of jails in my life, from Mexico (where they are truly abominable) to Australia, America, Russia, and dear old England, and I never saw a good one yet.



Flashman, p.209, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.




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