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TAROT
12-09-2008, 10:12 PM
The Sergeants chivvied the English battalion into position along the ridge as the French column moved into the valley, like a hammer towards the English line.

Boom. Ba doom. Ba doom. Ba doom dum.

A few of the English veterans gave the cry, "Vive l'empereur," to bolster the new recruits, but then looked nervous themselves.

"Why don't the frogs cry out, sir?"

The Captain took out his glass and looked at the approaching column. The yellow, waxy skin and vacant stares. The mouths of the approaching dead sewn shut. "They can't, Sergeant", he said as he passed the glass.

"Saints preserve us."

Boom. Ba doom. Ba doom. Ba doom dum.

"I don't give a good Goddamn what Old Boney is sending at us now. Aim low, men! Aim low!"