The thread on which all such pictures are strung-the new impressions such as "The Assault" and old ballads such as "Agincourt, or the English Bowman's Glory"-is the insular conception of fighting as the greatest of all great games, that which is the most shrewdly spiced with deadly danger. But modern battles are so vast and so extended in both space and time that composed battle-pieces, such as have come down to us from the far-off centuries of archery and ballad-making, may no longer be looked for.
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The poems here collected give, it is true, a stirring picture of the outward and visible semblance of modern scientific warfare. For, as the General said, in further explanation of what must seem to the enemy a military miracle, something altogether above and beyond scientific expectation, "The Old Army was the nation in miniature.
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Brothers in arms road to hill 30 trumpet music professional#
They had inherited the blithe, unconquerable courage of the little professional Army which saved the civilised world and England's honour in the still-victorious retreat from Mons to the Marne. And so they went up in sunshine and with singing to win undying fame and deathless gratitude in the valleys of decision where. Rudyard Kipling said: "His lips must have been touched." They were not merely unafraid they all gloried in the thought of the great ordeal to come. And, looking at the faces of those who passed by, the other saw in each one of them that open and sunny joyousness which is eternally expressed in the wonderful lines entitled " Into Battle" by Julian Grenfell-concerning which Mr. of casualties could no longer be relied on?" "Look at their faces, and you'll ​see why," answered the General. He was watching a division moving up to the fighting line, in company with one of our Generals, to whom he propounded the question: "How is it that nothing can break the spirit of these men, whereas the rule used to be that a regiment which had suffered 20 to 30 per cent. This all-important point is brought home by the following story which was told by a visitor to the west front-one who had lived all his life with soldiers, though not a soldier himself-during the final preparations for the Battle of Arras. As such it illustrates his singular capacity for remembering the splendour and forgetting the squalor of the dreadful vocation in which he was so suddenly engaged-a capacity at the root of that infinite cheerfulness which was such a priceless military asset in the early days of disillusion and disaster. To some extent the selection (which can claim to be fairly representative of the verses written by those who are serving, or have served, in the present world-war) presents a picture of the visible imagery of battle as mirrored in his mind. THE object of this Anthology is to show what passes in the British warrior's soul when, in moments of aspiration or inspiration, before or after action or in the busy days of self-preparation for self-sacrifice, he has glimpses of the ultimate significance of warfare.