Showing posts with label massacre. Show all posts
Showing posts with label massacre. Show all posts

Wednesday, 10 October 2012

Another ruined village



We had reined in on the outskirts of yet another ruined village, beside a little walled enclosure filled with a great pile of bones, many of them plainly belonging to infants. I ain’t over-queasy, as you know, but the thought of how they’d come to be there turned my stomach. Uliba viewed them dispassionately.
       “Thus Theodore wins the love of his people.”


Flashman on the March, p.105, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2005.


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Monday, 25 June 2012

An older, much wiser soldier



  
That was how I made my strategic retreat, then, from the massacre of Isan’lwana — the greatest debacle of British arms since the Kabul retreat nearly 40 years earlier. Oh, aye, I’d been in that, too, freezing and bleeding on that nightmare march which never reached the Khyber. But I’d been a thoughtless boy then; at Isan’lwana I was an older, much wiser soldier, and I knew I was a long way from safety yet.

Flashman and the Tiger, p.280, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Wednesday, 18 January 2012

A mountain of trouble



First off the Balkans . . . you have to understand that they’re full of people who’d much rather massacre each other than not…


Flashman and the Tiger, p.23, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.


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Thursday, 22 January 2009

I don't bilk at much



I don’t bilk at much: I watched them blowing sepoys from the ends of guns at Cawnpore, and I ate my dinner at Peking an hour after the massacre, but I confess Spring’s method of disposing of incriminating evidence made me gulp.



Flash For Freedom!, p.113, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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