Waterloo Page #7

We can move the 95th down, sir.

I will not run around like a wet hen.

There will be plenty of time, sir.

He hasn't moved.

He's nailed himself to his ridge.

This Englishman has two qualities

that I admire.

Caution and, above all, courage.

He hasn't moved. Now we move

the heavy artillery against Picton.

It seems he's swinging

his weight to you, Picton.

- His guns move so smoothly.

- He moves his cannon like a pistol.

I doubt if Byland's brigade

will stand.

Never mind.

Let him have a taste of it.

If they don't run first.

They're coming on

in the same old style.

And we'll have to meet them

in the same old style.

This one's going to take

careful timing.

Gin up, boys.

Get it while you can.

The French will have it

out of you in a minute, anyway.

- Dick?

- No, thank you.

Have a sup of gin

with His Majesty's compliments.

Remind me to thank him

next time we visit the palace.

- Would you say there are many of them?

- I can't see through a hill.

It's like the whole of bloody hell

is coming up out of the ground.

Nothing frightens me more than being

next to a friend of the Almighty.

The 72nd will prepare to advance!

Before we go, Uxbridge.

Savage stuff, Ponsonby.

You don't see its like anymore.

My father left us a hundredweight.

An old Jew in Alexandria

had the blend.

Blend?

My father was killed by the French.

It never should have happened.

His horse got bogged in a field

and the brute just gave up.

Seven lancers had him

like a tiger in a pit.

- Bad luck, eh, Uxbridge?

- Damned bad luck.

Yes, particularly bad luck.

He had 400 better horses at home.

Byland's brigade has broken.

Plug the gap, if you please.

Now is the time for

the heavy cavalry, I think.

Get your bastards up onto the crest.

I'll bring up the rest of the brigade.

Don't hurry yourself, Pic.

My lads'll hold them 'till you come.

Get forward, damn you.

The 92nd will advance!

Greenslade Mackenna!

Has Wellington nothing

to offer me but these Amazons?

Fire!

On, you drunken rascals!

You whore's melts! You thieves!

Now, Scots Greys, now!

Those men on grey horses

are terrifying.

They are the noblest cavalry

in Europe. And the worst led.

That may be. That may be.

But we'll match them

with our lancers.

We're the hard boys!

Charge for the guns!

Sound the recall!

Stop that useless noise.

You'll hurt yourself.

Get back! Sound the recall!

Lancers on your left!

Look out on the left!

Give these to my son.

Ride on. Save yourself.

By God, sir, the cannons are calling us.

March to the sound of the guns.

- Our duty is to...

- Do not teach me my duty, General.

My orders from the Emperor were precise.

To keep my sword in Blucher's back.

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