Showing posts with label cavalry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label cavalry. Show all posts

Monday, 12 November 2012

In some disorder



. . . and the happy couple emerged, the bint in some disorder and Cavalry looking as though he’d just been ridden down by the Heavy Brigade.


Flashman on the March, p.174, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Thursday, 7 July 2011

A ragged fence of bayonets



…and the muskets of the infantry squares came to the present in a ragged fence of bayonets that must be ridden under as that magnificent sea of men and horses engulfed us. I never saw the like in my life, I who watched the great charge against Campbell’s Highlanders at Balaclava — but those were just Russians, while these were the fathers of the Guides and Probyn’s and the Bengal Lancers, and the only thing to stop them at full tilt was a horse soldier as good as themselves.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.260, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Wednesday, 27 April 2011

Fit to ride



Their cavalry . . . well, it was fit to ride over Napoleon.



Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.59, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Thursday, 3 February 2011

Tossing oranges



…a line of Probyn’s riders, Sikhs and Afghans in shirt-sleeves, taking turns to ride full tilt past an officer who was tossing oranges in the air — they were taking ’em with their sabres on the fly, roars of applause greeting each successful cut.
      “Fane’s boys will be doing it with grapes tomorrow, I expect,” says Probyn.



Flashman and the Dragon, p.157, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.


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Friday, 31 December 2010

That double line of yokels and town scruff



It was the infantry I wanted to see, though, for (and I’m a horse-soldier as says it) I know what matters. When the guns haven’t come up, and you cavalry’s checked by close country or tutti-putti*, and you’re waiting in the hot, dusky hush for the faint rumble of impi or harka** over the skyline and know they’re twenty to your one, well, that’s when you realize that it all hangs on that double line of yokels and town scruff with their fifty rounds a man and an Enfield bayonet. Kitchener himself may have placed ’em just so, with D’Israeli’s sanction, The Times blessing, and the Queen waving ’em good-bye — but now it’s their grip on the stock and their eye at the backsight, and if they break, you’re done.

Flashman and the Dragon, pp.44-45, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.

*Roughly 'little cherubs'. A few thoughts occur as to what Flashman could mean, but if any reader has a reference to explain this more clearly, I would be grateful.

**Presumably, Flashman is referring to the Māori haka.


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Monday, 29 November 2010

A lucky song



…Custer himself led them off in his cracked baritone until the rafters rang and feet stamped and the glasses swung in rhythm as they roared out in chorus:

              We’ll beat the bailiffs out of fun,
              We’ll make the mayor and sheriffs run,
              We are the boys no man dare dun,
              If he regards a whole skin!
              In place of spa we’ll drink down ale,
              And pay no reckoning on the nail,
              No man for debt shall go to jail,
              While he can Garryowen hail!

They didn’t notice I wasn’t singing; I was remembering the remnants of the Light Brigade in that grisly hospital shed by Yatla, croaking out those self-same words in pathetic pride at having done what no horse-soldiers had ever done before. I thought of the pale fierce faces and the horrid wounds, and the unspeakable hell we’d come through, and the ghastly cost—and I wondered if it was a lucky song to sing, that’s all.



Flashman and the Redskins, p.278, Pan Books edition, 1983.





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Friday, 17 July 2009

We're British Cavalry




What they [the Russian officers] couldn’t fathom was how we’d held together all the way to the guns, and hadn’t broken or turned back, even with four saddles empty out of five, so I told ’em, ‘We’re British cavalry,’ simple as that, and looked them in the eye. It was true, too, even if no one had less right to say it than I.



Flashman at the Charge, p.118, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Friday, 19 June 2009

Devil a bottle of jallop



I watched the heavy, plodding tread of the infantry, and saw the stretched look of the cavalry mounts – I thought, how far will this crowd go, on a few handfuls of pork and biscuit, no tents, devil a bottle of jallop, and the cholera, the invisible dragon, humming in the air as they marched?



Flashman at the Charge, p.60, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Thursday, 18 June 2009

Our blamy cruise



And then heigh-ho, we were off on our balmy cruise across the Black Sea, a huge fleet of sixty thousand soldiers, only half of ’em rotten with sickness, British, Frogs, Turks, a few Bashi-bazooks, not enough heavy guns to fire more than a salute or two, and old General Scarlett sitting on top of a crate of hens learning, the words of command for a manoeuvring a cavalry brigade, closing his book on his finger, shutting his boozy old eyes, and shouting, ‘Walk, march, trot. Damme, what comes next?’



Flashman at the Charge, pp.59-60, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 15 April 2009

No thank'ee



As one of the former bright particular stars of the cavalry, who had covered himself with glory from Kabul to the Khyber, and been about the only man to charge in the right direction at Chillianwallah (a mistake, mind you), I wouldn’t be able to say, ‘No, thank’ee, I think I’ll sit out this time.’ Not and keep any credit, anyway. And credit’s the thing, if you’re as big a coward as I am, and want to enjoy life with an easy mind.



Flashman at the Charge, p.12, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Sunday, 10 August 2008

Where good cavalry prove themselves

‘Better than the British?’ says he, with his cocky grin.
‘I’ll tell you when I’ve seen ’em fight,’ says I bluntly.
‘You won’t deny they’re disciplined to perfection,’ cried he.
‘On parade,’ says I. ‘No doubt they’d charge well enough in a body too. But let’s see ’em in a mêlée, every man for himself; that’s where good cavalry prove themselves.’
This is true; of course, no one would run faster from a mêlée than I, but Starnberg wasn’t to know that.



Royal Flash, p.83, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Wednesday, 14 February 2007

Many a slip

However, there's many a slip 'twixt the crouch and the leap, as the cavalry used to say.



Flashman, p. 55, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.





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