Stand of the Riflemen
First... some background. The re-enactment group, the 95th Regiment of Foot had hosted a Sharpe's Peril blog on their forums being that the historian involved with the Sharpe series is a member. Well, after a while, forum denizens form a friendship of sorts and at the anniversary of Waterloo this coming weekend, a general meeting has been arranged. Somewhere along the way, as it wont to happen in any mixed group dynamic, some flirting and teasing went on.
That fired up my muse, and we have... with abject apologies to Sir Alfred Tennyson...
Stand of the Riflemen
“Form square, form square,
Rifles, form square!”
All in the valley of Death
Marched the 95th.
“1st Regiment of the 95th!
Form square!” he said.
All in the valley of Death
Marched the 95th.
“Beware the ladies on the hunt”
Was there a man dismay'd?
Guard their officers, the Rifles knew
From beguiling lips and eyes
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to stand and sigh:
Toward the Rifle Square
Sauntered the ladies nigh.
Rifles to right of them,
Rifles to left of them,
Rifles in front of them
Stood and protected;
Their brave officers well,
Boldly they stood through hell.
They that had fought so well
Stared into the jaws of Death
Of lovely curves and swells
Stood the riflemen
Anticipation expected
Flash’d all their smiles so rare,
Flash’d as they flipped their hair,
Disarming the riflemen there,
Paused the ladies on the hunt,
As they the conundrum pondered:
“Circle the Rifle square, instead!”
“Pick off the tasty ones,” they said.
Choices, decisions, with whom to play?
Perhaps this one, finely made?
No quarter given, no chances squandered
Then they broke through, and all,
All the Riflemen wondered.
Rifles to the right of them,
Rifles to the left of them,
Rifles behind them
Volunteered, surrendered.
They that had stood so well
In face of frills but fell
Under the ladies spell
“Leave our lieutenant! Take me.”
“No, me! Take me as well!”
All that was left of them,
All that were left unplundered
When can their glory fade?
O the brave stand they made!
Guarding their officers was no trifle
Honor the sacrifice they made
Honor the Rifle Brigade
Noble 1st Battalion of the 95th Rifles.
That fired up my muse, and we have... with abject apologies to Sir Alfred Tennyson...
Stand of the Riflemen
“Form square, form square,
Rifles, form square!”
All in the valley of Death
Marched the 95th.
“1st Regiment of the 95th!
Form square!” he said.
All in the valley of Death
Marched the 95th.
“Beware the ladies on the hunt”
Was there a man dismay'd?
Guard their officers, the Rifles knew
From beguiling lips and eyes
Their's not to make reply,
Their's not to reason why,
Their's but to stand and sigh:
Toward the Rifle Square
Sauntered the ladies nigh.
Rifles to right of them,
Rifles to left of them,
Rifles in front of them
Stood and protected;
Their brave officers well,
Boldly they stood through hell.
They that had fought so well
Stared into the jaws of Death
Of lovely curves and swells
Stood the riflemen
Anticipation expected
Flash’d all their smiles so rare,
Flash’d as they flipped their hair,
Disarming the riflemen there,
Paused the ladies on the hunt,
As they the conundrum pondered:
“Circle the Rifle square, instead!”
“Pick off the tasty ones,” they said.
Choices, decisions, with whom to play?
Perhaps this one, finely made?
No quarter given, no chances squandered
Then they broke through, and all,
All the Riflemen wondered.
Rifles to the right of them,
Rifles to the left of them,
Rifles behind them
Volunteered, surrendered.
They that had stood so well
In face of frills but fell
Under the ladies spell
“Leave our lieutenant! Take me.”
“No, me! Take me as well!”
All that was left of them,
All that were left unplundered
When can their glory fade?
O the brave stand they made!
Guarding their officers was no trifle
Honor the sacrifice they made
Honor the Rifle Brigade
Noble 1st Battalion of the 95th Rifles.