War Is The Only Game In Which

In That Pleasant District Of Merry England Which Is Watered By The River Don, There Extended In Ancient Times A Large Forest, Covering The Greater Part Of The Beautiful Hills And Valleys Which Lie Between Sheffield And The Pleasant Town Of Doncaster.

Hurry No Man's Cattle; You May Come To Own A Donkey Yourself

In The Lost Battle, Borne Down By The Flying, Where Mingles War's Rattle With Groans Of The Dying.

Chivalry!---why, Maiden, She Is The Nurse Of Pure And High Affection---the Stay Of The Oppressed, The Redresser Of Grievances, The Curb Of The Power Of The Tyrant ---nobility Were But An Empty Name Without Her, And Liberty Finds The Best Protection In Her Lance And Her Sword.

It Is Wonderful What Strength Of Purpose And Boldness And Energy Of Will Are Roused By The Assurance That We Are Doing Our Duty.