The cavalry will never be scrapped to make room for the tanks. ~ Neil Haig
Halfway down the trail to Hell, In a shady meadow green Are the Souls of all dead Troopers camped, Near a good old-time canteen. And this eternal resting place Is known as Fiddlers’ Green.Marching past, straight through to Hell The Infantry are seen, Accompanied by the Engineers, Artillery and Marines, For none but the shades of Cavalrymen Dismount at Fiddlers’ Green.
If you want to have a good time, jine the cavalry! Jine the cavalry! Jine the cavalry! If you want to catch the Devil, if you want to have fun, If you want to smell Hell, jine the cavalry!
At dawn the drums of war were beat, Proclaiming, “Thus saith Mohtasim, ‘Let all my valiant horsemen meet, And every soldier bring with him A spotted steed.’” So rode they forth, A sight of marvel and of fear; Pied horses prancing fiercely north, Threelakhs—the cup borne in the rear!
Indian Poetry (Kegan Paul, Trench, Trubner & Co. Ltd, 1904)
[T]he cavalry will never be scrapped to make room for the tanks; in the course of time cavalry may be reduced as the supply of horses in this country diminishes. This greatly depends on the life of fox-hunting, for which the class of horse required in the cavalry is used.
Half a league, half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. "Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns!" he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred.