You May Also Like / View all maxioms
The English Infantry is the most formidable in Europe, but
fortunately there is not much of it.
[Fr., read more
The English Infantry is the most formidable in Europe, but
fortunately there is not much of it.
[Fr., L'infanterie anglaise est la plus redoubtable de l"Europe;
heureusement, il n'y en a pas beaucoup.]
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives
Soldiers are dreamers; when the guns begin they think of firelit homes, clean beds, and wives
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His read more
He stands erect; his slouch becomes a walk;
He steps right onward, martial in his air,
His form and movement.
See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.
See! There is Jackson standing like a stone wall.
God and a soldier all people adore
In time of war, but not before;
And when war read more
God and a soldier all people adore
In time of war, but not before;
And when war is over and all things are righted,
God is neglected and an old soldier slighted.
Howbeit he refused to turn aside: wherefore Abner with the
hinder end of the spear smote him under the read more
Howbeit he refused to turn aside: wherefore Abner with the
hinder end of the spear smote him under the fifth rib, that the
spear came out behind him; and he fell down there, and died in
the same place: and it came to pass, that as many as came to the
place when Asahel fell down and died stood still.
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as read more
"Why me?" That is the soldier's first question, asked each morning as the patrols go out and each evening as the night settles around the foxholes.
The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I read more
The knight's bones are dust,
And his good sword rust;
His soul is with the saints, I trust.
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How read more
O Dormer, how can I behold thy fate,
And not the wonders of thy youth relate;
How can I see the gay, the brave, the young,
Fall in the cloud of war, and lie unsung!
In joys of conquest he resigns his breath,
And, filled with England's glory, smiles in death.