zinkyusa wrote:
My dear Ensign, first as you can plainly see a British Field Marshall wears a bicorne not a shako.
Hmmmm, I shall have to speak to Colonel Jones about your pending assignment. The army still requires an officer in charge of stable cleaning and latrine digging.
Let's see there is also an opening for Enemy Artillery Ranging Officer, we've lost the last dozen of those. They just don't seem to make it more than the first few minutes of a fight tsk, tsk...What do you think Colonel Jones?
Most beloved Field Marshall Blackburn, stable cleaning and latrine digging are both honest tasks that certainly build a credible character. Why in the early days of my own career, I certainly spent more time peeling potatoes than I ever did engaging our enemies. Generaals Moss and Bilj were insistent that such useful duties would make me a better soldier. As a result, I am, by a rather wide margin, the most deadly combatant with a paring knife in the entire Anglo-Allied Army. The unfortunate downside of such a fine skill is that General Knox’s sword had a bit greater reach than my admittedly sharp, but woefully small blade. Fortunately we Jagers, particularly of the Hanoverian ilk, are rather prodigious marksmen when armed with our trusted rifles.
I respectfully request that Ensign Peccolo be spared the duty of Acting Enemy Artillery Ranging Officer as he has a quite measurable potential of becoming an intolerable irritant to our misguided foes. His only fault is that his youthful constitution has not yet developed a strong tolerance to the Jagermeister that I have plied him with this evening. After all, if he is to be assume the command of my old company, he must learn our ways and customs. Obviously, I am not one to break him in slowly. You must admit, he does have a most fine singing voice though. What if, in lieu of requiring him to stand in an open field until the enemy artillerists find the proper range, he agrees to deliver unto you the first sword he wrests from the grasp of an unwilling, French adversary? What say you, sir? Are you willing to grant a reprieve?
NWC
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FAQ
, and surprising from one who has to wear large shakos to keep the ladies from seeing their short comings. 
My dear fellow, a war horse is a proud and wonderful beast standing at least 15 hands high (shall I show you some sir?). Now then, that small creature you ride, with the large floppy ears and your feet can touch the ground when mounted upon its back, cannot be called a horse. Sir, I believe it is braying for you. 
