st crispin's day

October 25, St. Crispin's Day,  marks the high and low in British martial history. I nominate as high the Battle of Agincourt, recounted in Shakespeare's  Henry V (did you watch The Hollow Crown?).
As Shakespeare wrote the story, Henry imploring his men to battle, before outlandish odds, is perhaps the most inspirational speech ever given.  The English victory impressive, the gains short lived.




The British military does not have a monopoly on stupid, but bad things happen when leaders look upon their fighting men as DNOK, the other.  On St. Crispin's Day, four hundred forty odd years after the Battle of Agincourt, the British army was back on the field, this time fighting Russians at Balaclava in the Crimea.  Misunderstanding their muddled orders, a sabre armed  light cavalry brigade was sent headlong into battle against entrenched Russian artillery. The results predictable.

The BBC tells the story surprisingly well in this video.




Alfred, Lord Tennyson, wrote the best known chronicle of the battle


Toad

Charge!

The Charge Of The Light Brigade

by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Memorializing Events in the Battle of Balaclava, October 25, 1854
Written 1854

Half a league half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred:
'Forward, the Light Brigade!
Charge for the guns' he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

'Forward, the Light Brigade!'
Was there a man dismay'd ?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Some one had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do & die,
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd & thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack & Russian
Reel'd from the sabre-stroke,
Shatter'd & sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse & hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death,
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wonder'd.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

Note: This poem, including punctuation, is reproduced from a scan of the poem written out by Tennyson in his own hand in 1864. The scan was made available online by the University of Virginia.