25 October 1854. Major General James Brudenell, 7th
of Cardigan stands with Lieutenant General George
Bingham, 3rd Earl of Lucan. Frosty resentment simmers
between them, as old sentiments brew.
Cardigan: Well sir, Ill be damned if im leading the
brigade into that valley. Its utter
suicide. Look at the
Lucan: Youll do as youre damned-well told and to hell
A cold silence hangs.
A diminutive figure shambles up...
Lucan: What! Who the hell are you?
General Other Sir! Given the strategic positioning of the
Russian artillery, and the lack of clarity of the
provided to you Sir, I respectfully advise you consider
decision here very carefully
Lucan: And who are you to advise me on my choice of
Other: Its my role and duty sir. I am to inject an
independent, objective view at times when others might
make a rash decision, in the heat of the moment
Lucan: Harumph! Tosh! And other Words!
Cardigan: Hmm. Well sir, in the light of that, I could
a charge up over the ridge to the south to seize the guns
Lucan: Oh Bloody-well Alright! Go on then!
And so, the 600 didnt charge to their death.