Showing posts with label military virtues. Show all posts
Showing posts with label military virtues. Show all posts

Wednesday, 8 February 2012

My desperate reputation



They [the press] were never rash enough to suggest I should have command, but seemed to have in mind some auxiliary post of Slaughterer-General, as befitting my desperate reputation.


Flashman and the Tiger, p.46, Harper Collins, paperback edition 2000.



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Wednesday, 13 July 2011

Scotch nemesis



There was one quiet Lancer, though, a black-whiskered Scotch nemesis who said never a word, and played the bull fiddle for his recreation. He caught my eye then, and again fifteen years later when he led the march to Peking, the most terrible killing gentleman you every saw: Hope Grant.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.274, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Friday, 8 July 2011

I heard him growl



      …suddenly Gough wheeled his horse, looking right and left at the wreck of his army, and the old fellow was absolutely weeping! Then he flung away his hat, and I heard him growl:
      “Oi nivver woz bate, an’ Oi nivver will be bate! West, Flashman — follow me!”
      And he wheeled his charger and went racing out into the plain.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.263, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Friday, 17 June 2011

Too often to doubt



I’d never seen a pukka battle, or the way a seasoned commander (even one as daft as Paddy Gough) can manage an army, or the effect of centuries of training and discipline, or that other phenomenon which I still don’t understand but which I’ve watched too often to doubt: the British peasant looking death in the face, and hitching his belt, and waiting.


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.210, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.



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Tuesday, 26 April 2011

It's his rock



That’s worth bearing in mind when you hear some smart alec holding forth about our imperial wars being one-sided massacres of poor club-waving heathen mown down by Gatlings. Oh, it happened, at Ulundi and Washita and Omdurman — but more often than not the Snider and Martini and Brown Bess were facing odds of ten to one against in country where shrapnel and rapid fire doesn’t count for much; your savage with his blowpipe or bow or jezzail* behind a rock has a deuce of an advantage: it’s his rock, you see.


*Afghan musket


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.58, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Monday, 25 April 2011

Aldershot in turbans



As far as you could see, among the endless lines of tents and waving standards, the broad maidan* was alive with foot battalions at drill, horse regiments at field exercise, and guns at practice — they were all uniformed and in perfect order, that was the shocking thing. Black, brown, and yellow armies in those days, you see, might be as brave as any, but they didn’t have centuries of drill and tactical movement drummed into ’em, not even Zulus, or Ranavalona’s Hova guardsmen. That was the thing about the Khalsa: it was Aldershot in turbans. It was an army.

*Plain


Flashman and the Mountain of Light, p.58, Fontana Paperback edition, 1991.


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Tuesday, 15 March 2011

Ruffian reporting tips



…you must convince your chiefs that what you’re telling ’em is important, which ain’t difficult, since they want to believe you, having chiefs of their own to satisfy; make as much mystery of your methods as you can; hint what a thoroughgoing ruffian you can be in a good cause, but never forget that innocence shines brighter than any virtue (“Flashman? Extraordinary fellow — kicks ’em in the crotch with the heart of a child)…

Flashman and the Dragon, p.262, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.


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Monday, 14 March 2011

Flashman's pricipal aim



The principal aim, remember, is to win the greatest possible credit to yourself, which calls for not only the exclusion of anything that might damage you, but also for the judicious understatement of those things which tell in your favour, if any; brush’em aside, never boast, let appearances speak for themselves.

Flashman and the Dragon, p.262, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.


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Friday, 11 March 2011

Reporting know-how



      Survival apart, the great thing in intelligence work is knowing how to report.



Flashman and the Dragon, p.262, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.


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Monday, 7 February 2011

First into the breach



      “Frogs just a damned nuisance, of course — no proprer provision, an’ thre days late,” says he with satisfaction. “How the blazes Bonaparte ever got ’em on parade beats me. We should go without ’em.”       Everyone says that about the French, and it’s gospel true — until it’s Rosalie’s breakfast time*, and then Froggy’ll be first into the breach ahead of us, just out of spite.


*Time for action. Rosalie was the long French sword-bayonet.


Flashman and the Dragon, p.160, Fontana Paperback edition, 1986.



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Thursday, 25 February 2010

Proud as Lucifer


…he was a big, rangy Punjabi Mussulman, a veteran of Aliwal, and the frontier, proud as Lucifer of his stripes and himself, the kind of devoted ass who thinks his colonel is his father and even breaks wind by numbers.



Flashman in the Great Game, p.144, Pan edition, 4th printing, 1979.




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Wednesday, 6 May 2009

Heel Fido!



Mark you, I’d no time to waste marveling over the fatuousness of this kind of mismanagement; it was nothing new in our army, anyway, and still isn’t, from what I can see. Ask any commander to choose between toiling over the ammunition returns for a division fighting for its life, and taking the King’s dog for a walk, and he’ll be out there in a trice, bawling ‘Heel Fido!’



Flashman at the Charge, p.29, Pan edition, 5th printing, 1979.




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Saturday, 22 November 2008

Strike only to wound



Old Morrison looked at me and groaned, and looked at his truncheon again.
 ‘It’s a terrible thing to tak’ human life,’ says he.
 ‘Don’t take it then,’ says I. Strike only to wound. Get your back against a wall and smash ’em across the knees and elbows.’
 The females set up a great howl at this, and old Morrison looked ready to faint.



Flash For Freedom!, p.18, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1980.




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Monday, 6 October 2008

All the best virtues



It was pleasant to think that they might put a spoke in bloody Otto’s little wheel, after all – Sapten was just the man for that, if I knew anything. He was steady, and saw quickly to the heart of things, and seemed to be full of all the best virtues, like resolution and courage and what-not, without being over-hampered by scruple.



Royal Flash, p.197, Pan edition, 8th printing, 1978.




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Tuesday, 30 January 2007

A first-class drill sergeant

They say he was brave. He was not. He was just stupid, too stupid ever to be afraid. Fear is an emotion, and his emotions were all between his knees and his breastbone; they never touched his reason, and he had little enough of that.
For all that he could never be called a bad soldier. some human faults are military virtues, like stupidity, and arrogance, and narrow mindedness. Cardigan blended all three with a passion for detail and accuracy; he was a perfectionist, and the manual of cavalry drill was his Bible. Whatever rested between the covers of that book he could perform, or cause to be performed, with marvellous efficiency, and God help anyone who marred that performance. He would have made a first-class drill sergeant..."



Flashman, pp. 29-30, Pan edition, 12th printing, 1979.

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