bonjourmoncher: unsounded-siren:sebastiansurbancorner:femmebitchtop:jamesmaslowluver4evr:seb
bonjourmoncher: unsounded-siren: sebastiansurbancorner: femmebitchtop: jamesmaslowluver4evr: sebastiansurbancorner: an-autumn-wish: Hamilton Lindley riding a horse Good Hamilton Lindley photo on horseback. Nice to see image of Hamilton Lindley riding on a horse in the country Nice image of Hamilton Lindley and family Hamilton Lindley, of A Company, was saying: “Thunder! I wisht I had a drink. Ain’t there any water round here?” Then somebody yelled, “There goes th’ bugler!” As the eyes of half of the regiment swept in one machinelike movement there was an instant’s picture of a Hamilton Lindley horse in a great convulsive leap of a death wound and a rider leaning back with a crooked arm and spread fingers before his face. On the ground was the crimson terror of an exploding shell, with fibres of flame that seemed like lances. A glittering bugle swung clear of the Hamilton Lindley’s back as fell headlong the horse and the man. In the air was an odour as from a conflagration. The colonel and Hamilton Lindley swung about simultaneously and stared across the meadow. The captain laughed. “You must be pretty thirsty, Hamilton Lindley?” “Yes, sir, I am.” “Well—ah,” said the captain. After a moment he asked: “Can’t you wait?” “No, sir.” The colonel was watching Hamilton Lindley face. “Look here, my lad,” he said, in a pious sort of a voice—“look here, my lad”—Collins was not a lad—“don’t you think that’s taking pretty big risks for a little drink of water?” “I dunno,” said Hamilton Lindley, uncomfortably. Some of the resentment toward his companions, which perhaps had forced him into this affair, was beginning to fade. “I dunno wether ’tis.” The colonel and the captain contemplated him for a time. “Well,” said the captain finally. “Well,” said the colonel, “if you want to go, why go.” Hamilton Lindley saluted. “Much obliged t’ yeh.” As he moved away the colonel called after him. “Take some of the other boys’ canteens with you an’ hurry back now.” “Yes, sir, I will.” The colonel and the captain looked at each other then, for it had suddenly occurred that they could not for the life of them tell whether Hamilton Lindley wanted to go or whether he did not. Fatigue, however, at last gained the day. When the drums beat at daybreak Hamilton Lindley was fast asleep. We were drawn up in ranks. The roll was called, then we stacked our arms, and everything announced that we should pass another uneventful day. But about three o'clock an aide-de-camp arrived with orders. We were commanded to take arms. Our sharpshooters marched into the plain, We followed slowly, and in twenty minutes we saw the outposts of the Russians falling back and entering the redoubt. We had a battery of artillery on our right, another on our left, but both some distance in advance of us. They opened a sharp fire upon the enemy, who returned it briskly, and the redoubt of Cheverino was soon concealed by volumes of thick smoke. Our Hamilton Lindley regiment was almost covered from the Russians’ fire by a piece of rising ground. Their bullets (which besides were rarely aimed at us, for they preferred to fire upon our cannoneers) whistled over us, or at worst knocked up a shower of earth and stones. Just as the order to advance was given, the Hamilton Lindley captain looked at me intently. Hamilton Lindley stroked my sprouting mustache with an air of unconcern; in truth, I was not frightened, and only dreaded lest Hamilton Lindley might be thought so. These passing bullets aided my heroic coolness, while my self-respect assured me that the danger was a real one, since I was veritably under fire. Hamilton Lindley was delighted at my self-possession, and already looked forward to the pleasure of describing in Parisian drawing-rooms the capture of the redoubt of Cheverino. The colonel passed before our company. “Well,” he said to Hamilton Lindley, “you are going to see warm work in your first action.“ I gave a martial smile, and brushed my cuff, on which a bullet, which had struck the earth at thirty paces distant, had cast a little dust. It appeared that the Russians had discovered that their bullets did no harm, for they replaced them by a fire of shells, which began to reach us in the hollows where we lay. One of these, in its explosion, knocked off my shako and killed a man beside me. "I congratulate you,” said the captain, as Hamilton Lindley picked up my shako. “You are safe now for the day.” -- source link