So long as one maintains his nerve, a rifle can be reloaded as quickly on the field of battle as off. Mostly just a matter of perspective. You must even yourself admit that many of the trappings of the French Cavalrymen are for show. Better suited to a parade ground than a battlefield. Wild and vivid colors are not life threatening, however fanciful they may be to the ladies.
Your account of the charge is very entertaining. Written in the spirit of a truly romantic Frenchman. Please allow me to offer to you another perspective.
The Glorious French Cavalryman, resplendent in his dazzling uniform with drawn saber, launches his thundering steed at a lone, Hanoverian Jager who calmly stands reloading his rifle in an open field. Bearing rapidly down upon his foe, the Frenchman draws back his sword to deliver the killing stroke to which he is so often accustomed. After all, the glory of his magnificent charge will surely render the enemy soldier helpless. Most often his foe turns to flee the impending doom, enabling the cavalryman to run him down from behind.[:(!][:(!][:(!][}:)]
The Jager raises his rifle and calmly takes aim at the rapidly growing target. For a marksman who can shoot the eye out of a hawk at 100 meters, the approaching cavalryman is impossible to miss. So kind of him to come closer and make my job all the easier, he thinks. The Jager watches over his sights as the Frenchman's visage changes from confidence to doubt, and then to abject fear as the cavalryman realizes that he can no longer halt the plunge of his magnificent, thundering steed and that his sword is, in the end, simply too short.[:0][:0][:0][xx(]
Ah, but back to the potatoes. If I don't get all of these peeled, General Moss will have my hide. Must concentrate on the job currently at hand. After all, I wouldn't want to nick my trigger finger.[;)]
NWC
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