Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more,
Or close the wall up with our English dead.
In peace there’s nothing so becomes a man
As modest stillness and humility.
But when the blast of war blows in our ears,
Then imitate the action of the tiger.
Stiffen the sinews, conjure up the blood,
Disguise fair nature with hard-favoured rage ...
On, on you noblest English ... Now attest
That those whom you called fathers did beget you
Be copy now to men of grosser blood,
And teach them how to war. And you, good yoemen,
Whose limbs were made in England, show us here
The mettle of your posture; let us swear
That you are worth your breeding – which I doubt not
For there is none of you so mean and base
That hath not noble lustre in your eyes,
I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips,
Straining upon the start. The game’s afoot.
Follow your spirit, and upon this charge
Cry ‘God for Harry! England and Saint George.’ ibid. III i 1-4 & 17 & 22-34, King Harry to English troops
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst ...
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the fleshed soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell,
mowing like grass
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow’ring infants ...
What reign can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he hold his fierce career?
We may as bootless soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts to the leviathan
To come ashore. ibid. III iii 86-88 & 93-94 & 105-110, King Harry
For I am sure when he shall see our army
He’ll drop his heart into the sink of fear
And, fore achievement, offer us his ransom. ibid. III v 58-60, Constable to court
For when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner. ibid. III vi 113-115, King Harry to Fluellen et al
Give them great meals of beef and iron and steel, they will eat like wolves and fight like devils. ibid. III vii 166
The royal captain of this ruined band. ibid. IV chorus l29
O God of battles! steel my soldier’s hearts;
Possess them not with fear; take from them now
The sense of reckoning, if the opposed numbers
Pluck their hearts from them. ibid. IV i 309
If we are marked to die, we are enow
To do our country loss; and if to live,
The fewer men, the greater share of honour. ibid. IV iii 20
He which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man’s company
That fears his fellowship to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is named,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian. ibid. IV iii 35
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, ‘These wounds I had on Crispian’s day.’
Old men forget: yet all shall be forgot,
But he’ll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day. ibid. IV iii 47
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now abed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s Day. ibid. IV iii, King Harry
Let slip the dogs of war. William Shakespeare, Julius Caesar III i 276, Antony
Horribly stuffed with epithets of war. William Shakespeare, Othello I i 14, Roderigo
Though in the trade of war I have slain men
Yet do I hold it very stuff o’ th’ conscience
To do no contrived murder. ibid. I ii 1-3
The flinty and steal couch of war. ibid. I iii 9, Othello
And little of this great world can I speak
More than pertains to feats of broils and battle. ibid. I iii 86-87
Men do their broken weapons rather use
Than their bare hands. ibid. I iii 173-174, Duke
Pride, pomp, and circumstance of glorious war! ibid. III iii 359
For brave Macbeth – well he deserves that name! –
Disdaining fortune, with his brandished steel
Which smoked with bloody execution,
Like valour’s minion
Carved out his passage till he faced the slave,
Which ne’er shook hands nor bade farewell to him
Till he unseamed him from the nave to th’ chops
And fixed his head upon our battlement. William Shakespeare, The Tragedy of Macbeth I I @16, Captain
O! withered is the garland of the war,
The soldier’s pole is fall’n; young boys and girls
Are level now with men; the odds is gone,
And there is nothing left remarkable
Beneath the visiting moon. William Shakespeare, Antony & Cleopatra IV xiii 64
To a cruel war I sent him. Coriolanus 2011 starring Ralph Fiennes & Gerard Butler & Venessa Redgrave & Brian Cox & Jessica Chastain & John Kani & James Nesbitt & Paul Jesson & Lubna Azabal & Ashraf Barhom et al, director Ralph Fiennes, mother
Had I a dozen sons, I had rather eleven die nobly for their country than one voluptuously served out of action. ibid.
Let me have war, say I; it exceeds peace as far as day does night; it’s spritely, waking, audible, and full of vent. Peace is a very apoplexy, lethargy: mulled, deaf, sleepy, insensible; a getter of more bastard children than war’s a destroyer of men. William Shakespeare, Coriolanus IV v 237
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.
Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley’d and 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 turned 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 and Russian
Reel’d from the sabre-stroke
Shatter’d and 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 and 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! Alfred Lord Tennyson, The Charge of the Light Brigade, 1854
They’ll be no learning period with nuclear weapons – you make one mistake and you’re going to destroy nations. Robert S McNamara, The Fog of War, 2003
Lesson #1: Empathise with your enemy: I don’t know quite what kind of a world we’ll live in after we’ve struck Cuba. ibid. McNamara to Kennedy
We had attempted to assassinate Castro. ibid. McNamara
Lesson#2: Rationality will not save us. ibid.
It was luck that prevented nuclear war. ibid.
Lesson #3: There’s something beyond one’s self. ibid.
Lesson#4: Maximize efficiency. ibid.
Lesson#5: Proportionality should be a guideline in war. ibid.
Lesson #6: Get the data. ibid.
Lesson #7: Belief and seeing are both often wrong. ibid.