【百科事典】ウィキぺディア第2096刷【Wikipedia】
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* ウィキペディアと関係のある話題のみ推奨。
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== 前スレ ==
【百科事典】ウィキぺディア第2095刷【Wikipedia】
http://lavender.5ch.net/test/read.cgi/hobby/1552722359/l50
http://lavender.5ch.net/test/read.cgi/hobby/1552725444/l50 had seen a good deal of Algerian life, and was determined as soon as
his term was up to get clear away for ever from Africa. This was not
pleasant news. Here was a corporal, a man of over four years' service,
whose whole and sole idea it was to leave the Legion and the country.
It plainly proved that the life before us was not the most attractive
in the world, and the thought often crossed my mind that perhaps I had
been a fool to try soldiering in such a corps. With the happy-go-lucky
recklessness of youth, however, I quickly got rid of these fancies, and
I could console myself that five years would not be long passing, and
at the very worst I should have learned more, situated as I was, than
if I were to spend the term at school, and at such a school as the one
I had been attending.
I got on fairly well with the others of my squad. I have never been
inclined to affront people, and I can honestly say that I have never
shirked my work, and these qualities, added to a natural cheerfulness
of disposition which caused me to look at the bright side of things,
helped me very much all through my stay in the Foreign Legion. Indeed,
there was only one man who was disliked by all. He was a Pole, a
German Pole, I believe, and he had the most sarcastic tongue of all
the men I've ever met. His sneering smile was almost as bad as his
cutting tongue. While speaking politely he said little things that
one could not very well resent, and that, therefore, hurt one the
more. It's bad to be an idler, and worse to have a nasty way of openly
abusing and insulting people, but the worst gift of God to a man is the gift of sarcasm. The sarcastic man never has a friend. There are, of
course, always men who will fawn upon and flatter him, but that will be
only through fear of his tongue--even they who most court him rejoice
inwardly at his misfortunes. He can't be always lucky, he must take his
bad fortune as it comes, and when it does come he cannot help knowing
that all who know him are glad.
It was well, I think, for our friend the Pole that the journey did not
last a week longer. Somebody or other would be sure to lose his temper,
and if one blow were struck, twenty would surely follow, for we all
hated him. He said something about a gorilla one day, looking hard all
the while at the Italian already mentioned, and it was a wonder that
there was no fight. There would have been, I feel sure, but that the
bugles sounded the assemble for the last march of the day, and the
Italian, who was no beauty, had a few hours of marching to get cool.
The Pole was quiet enough for the next couple of days, and by that time
we were within six hours' march of our destination.
Before describing the battalion to which I now belonged I must say a
few words about the Foreign Legion in general, so that the peculiar
characteristics of the corps may be understood. All that I shall
mention in this chapter is that one sunny afternoon about four o'clock
we marched into camp on the borders of the Sahara amid the cheers of
our future comrades, and that within an hour our 200 men were divided
amongst the four companies that constituted the 2nd Battalion of the First Regiment of the _Lﾃｩgion ﾃｩtrangﾃｨre_.
CHAPTER V
For centuries the armies of France have had a certain proportion of
foreign troops. Readers of Scott will remember the Scottish archers,
and there is a regiment in the British army to-day which was at one
time a Scottish corps in the service of the Most Christian Kings of
France. Almost everyone has heard of the Irish Brigade, a force whose
records fill many a bloody and glorious page of European history
and whose prowess more than once turned the ebb-tide of defeat into
the full flood of victory. It has been computed that almost 500,000
Irishmen died in the French service; and we may well imagine that
half-a-million dashing soldiers did not yield up their lives for
nothing.
In the time of the great Napoleon there were many foreign brigades
in the grand army. Everybody has read of the famous Polish lancers
who time and again shattered the chivalry of Prussia, Austria, and
Muscovy in those combats of giants, when kingdoms were the prizes and
marshalships and duchies mere consolations for the less lucky ones. 僕の肛門にも時々オチンコが降ってきます。
おホモだちと呼んでいます。 These Poles were magnificent fools. Poniatowski and his riders clung
to Napoleon, led the way in his advances, covered the rear in his
retreats, and all the while the cynical emperor had little, if any,
thought of restoring the ancient glories of Poland, and thus repaying
the country for the valour and devotion of her sons. Other foreign
cavalry he had as well, but they became more or less mixed with the
native Frenchmen, and thus do not stand out so boldly to our mental
vision as the Poles. Chief amongst the great emperor's foreign infantry
brigades was the Irish one. Indeed, to this one alone of them an eagle
was entrusted, and it may do no harm to remark here that that eagle,
much as it was coveted by certain enemies, was never lost, and was
handed back to French custody when the Irish Brigade ceased to exist
as an independent body after the final defeat at Waterloo. Most of
the brigade, not caring for the monarchy after having so long and so
faithfully served the empire, took advantage of the offer made to them
of taking service under the British monarch, and were incorporated in
various regiments of the British army. Indeed, in the late twenties and
early thirties of the nineteenth century it was by no means uncommon to
meet in Irish villages a war-worn veteran who had been in most of the
great European battles--Jena, Austerlitz, Borodino, Waterloo--and had
finished his soldiering under the burning suns of Hindostan.
In the Crimea, again, a foreign legion, somewhat like the legion formed
by the British Government for the same campaign, was amongst the troops
sent out by Napoleon the Third. I know very little about this corps, 自分にとって都合のいい存在を友達に認定してるだけじゃねーか
きもちわる but I am quite sure that it got its full share, and more, of danger,
hard work, and privations. Anyway the Crimean campaign, except for a
few battles, was more a contest against nature than against the enemy.
In the Franco-Prussian war we next find mention of the Legionaries. At
the battle of Orleans, when that city was captured by the Prussians,
the Foreign Legion and the Pontifical Zouaves covered the French
retreat. When we learn that out of 1500 of the former only 36 remained
at the end of the day there will be little need to ask where were the
Legionaries during the rest of the war. It must be remembered also,
that the 1500 men who fought and fell outside Orleans were the remains
of the Legionaries brought from Algeria, and that their comrades left
behind were amongst the most distinguished of those who quelled the
rebellion of the Kabyles in the year '71. It is only just to mention
that the Pontifical Zouaves covered themselves with glory at this
fight; they went into action along with the Legion on the 11th of
October 1870, 370 strong, of whom only 17 survived the day.
The Foreign Legion, as I knew it, consisted, as I believe it still
consists, of two regiments, each containing four battalions. As a
battalion numbers 1000 men the total strength of the service soldiers
may be put at 8000. In addition there are depot men, including band,
drill instructors, and recruits; but I have said enough about the
depot already, so I shall now confine myself altogether to the service
soldiers. Every battalion is divided into four companies, and thus a company
contains, approximately, 250 officers, sub-officers, and soldiers.
The officers are three--captain, lieutenant, and sub-lieutenant. Next
comes the sergeant-major of the company, a sub-officer who keeps the
accounts. There are two sergeants, one for each of the two sections
into which the company is divided, and under them a number of corporals
in command of squads, every squad being, be it understood, a distinct
unit in the economy of the section to which it belongs. The men are
divided into two classes, the first and the second, and from the first
class are chosen the corporals as vacancies arise.
The uniform consists of kepi with a brass grenade in front, blue tunic
with black belt, red trousers, or white, according to the season. With
the red trousers go black gaiters, with the white ones white spats,
somewhat like those worn by Highland soldiers in the British army. The
knapsack, greatcoat, and other impedimenta are rather heavy, especially
when 150 rounds of ball cartridge are included. I don't know the exact
weight, but I remember that I used to feel an ugly drag on my shoulders
at the end of a day's march. The pouch for ammunition at the side also
pressed heavily against the body, and we often wished that those who
had the arrangement of a man's equipment should wear it on the march,
day in day out, if only for a month. There might be some common-sense
displayed by them after that. But in all ages and nations a man's
accoutrements--I use the word in the most general sense--have been decided on by tailors and good-for-nothing generals--oh, there are
plenty of them in every army in the world--and, worst of all, by women,
who twist and turn the said generals around their little fingers. Look
at a private soldier of any army when standing at attention in full
marching order; you are pleased with the sight; his head is erect, his
straightened shoulders seem easily to support the heavy pack behind;
the twin pouches look so beautifully symmetrical. Ask that soldier how
he feels at the end of a thirty-mile march. If he isn't a liar, he will
tell you that the rifle is rather heavy, but he doesn't mind that; that
the pack galls a bit, but that's to be expected; and that the pouches
weighted with ammunition have given him a dull, heavy pain in each
side just above, he imagines, where the kidneys are, and if that pain
could be avoided he would think little of all the rest. Many a time I
have taken the packets of cartridges from the pouches before we had
gone a quarter of a mile and stowed them away between the buttons of my
tunic--there they had ribs and breast bone to rest against. Why don't
the people whose business and interest it is to get the best out of
the private soldier give the private soldier a chance? But they won't.
Of all the humbugs on the face of God's earth the military officer of,
say, twenty years' service is the worst.
The soldier of the second class wore no decoration on his sleeve, the
soldier of the first class had a red chevron, the corporal wore two
red chevrons, the sergeant a single gold one, and the sergeant-major
two gold ones. It was a good thing to be a soldier of the first class, not because you wore a chevron or got extra pay, but because, when a
charge was made against you by sergeant or corporal, the officers
would listen carefully to your defence, and you generally got what the
second-class man rarely got--a fair chance as well as a patient hearing.
Squad etiquette was rather peculiar. You were assigned to a squad, and
on entering were made free, as I may say, of the mess, and how you got
on afterwards with your enforced comrades depended largely on yourself.
You might be very well liked, or thoroughly disliked, but violent likes
and dislikes were rather uncommon. As a rule, you had just a little
trouble in asserting your right to a fair share, and that always, of
what was going. If you had a dispute with another your comrades looked
on and listened; if you came to blows they prevented the affair from
going too far; and unless the corporal was a brute he allowed his squad
to arrange their own affairs out of working hours in their own way.
But you dared not form friendships with men outside the squad; if you
did you were set upon and punished in every way by your comrades, and
your friend was served in the same way by his. Let me give an instance.
A rather nice, quiet fellow, an Alsatian, was in my squad at a place
called Zenina when we received a new draft of recruits from the depot.
Amongst these was another Alsatian, who came from the same place as
my comrade, and, as was natural, the two became fast friends. Under
the circumstances nothing was said at first, and had either asked for
a transfer to his friend's squad all would have been well. After some
time, however, the comrades of both began to object. Why, we asked one 556 名無しの愉しみ[sage] 2019/03/21(木) 15:53:44.89 ID:???
ぱたごん「えっ、堕落と同期？」
諏訪兄「やだ、自警臭いわ」
さかおり「2009年生の恥さらしよ」 another, should Schmidt openly abandon us and our genial company for a
man who should by right be good comrade with others? Well, Schmidt was
abused, and bore the abuse calmly; he got only half a share at meals,
and still did not go further than a meek protest; he came back after
seeing his chum, and found all his kit flung outside the door of the
hut, his rifle fouled, his bayonet covered with salt water, his straps
dirty, and his buckles dull; still he bore with all. Next evening
he went to visit his friend, and, while he was absent, we formed a
soldiers' court-martial and tried him. One man represented the accuser,
another took the part of Schmidt, but the result was quite evident from
the first. He was found guilty of neglecting his duties as a comrade,
and as he had openly abandoned his squad and thereby shown his contempt
for it, at the same time exposing us to the derision of all the
battalion, it was high time that the squad should adequately punish him
and thus vindicate its character.
The chief difficulty was about the punishment. It was first proposed
that we should put him _en crapaudine_ for a night, seizing and binding
him while all in the cantonments were asleep, and releasing him in
the morning before the reveille. However, it was pointed out that the
corporal would not be likely to permit that, and, if he did permit it,
Schmidt might report the matter and get the corporal into trouble. Now
the corporal was a good fellow. He swore at us and abused us and would
allow not even a sullen muttering in reply, but he would not, if he
could help it, of course, get a man into trouble with the sergeant or the captain or the commandant. Occasionally he would find a bottle of
wine, half-a-bottle of brandy, or a score or two of cigarettes in his
corner. He said nothing, and as soon as the bottle was empty he did not
have anything more to do with it: it was removed without a word by some
one of us and quietly, I may say unostentatiously, deposited where its
presence need not be accounted for by any of our squad.
After a good deal of talking we finally settled on a plan. What it
was will appear in a short time. That night we could not do as we had
resolved, for the corporal came in at an early hour in the evening
as drunk and as abusive as a man could be. He rolled against me, and
cursed me for a dirty, drunken pig, who could not carry his liquor like
a soldier. He stood tottering in his corner of the room, and gave out
more bad language than he had ever done before. And we were not quiet.
He got quite as much as he gave; we described for his benefit our
conceptions of his father and his mother--his father was a dog and his
mother the female of the same species--we attributed to himself all the
bad qualities that we could think of; we even called him coward, and
dared him to report us at once to the sergeant or the captain. He knew,
and we knew, that if he did so his arrest would at once follow and that
the chevrons on his arm would not be worth one of the brass buttons on
his tunic. We overpowered him with abuse at length, and he fell asleep
muttering curses and threats, which were altogether forgotten in the
morning. Next evening the chance came. The corporal had taken a hint that it
would be just as well for him for his own sake to have some appointment
that would keep him away until the last moment before roll call. I may
admit that when he woke in the morning he looked, and I suppose felt,
very ill, and even refused his morning coffee when it was first offered
to him. I took the coffee then from the man who had offered it, and,
while all the rest, as it had been arranged, turned their backs, poured
into it nearly a quarter of a pint of brandy. He saw what I was doing
and took the mixture from me. Smelling it carefully first, he swallowed
a little; liking the taste, he swallowed some more; and in less than
two minutes he handed back the empty vessel to me, with a wink and
a nod of the head that told me how delightful had been the little
surprise prepared for him.
As he was going out another man held out his hand with a couple
of cigarettes. "Thanks, my comrade, how you are kind!" said the
_sous-officier_.
When he came in for soup, I again poured some brandy from the bottle
into a tin cup in such a way that the corporal saw but the rest did
not, being discreetly engaged. He did not wait to have it carried
to him, he came swiftly round, took the cup, and drained it at a
gulp. Then somebody left six or eight cigarettes near the corporal's
bedplace, and all walked out except the corporal and myself. I went
to the door, looked out, came back to my own bunk, took out a bottle >>195
Kurihayaの苛立ちはわかるが
桜ポップなんかを相手にする時間があるんなら
荒らしや靴下のブロックをもっとテキパキとやってほしい >>190
都合の良いか悪いかの俯瞰論なんて誰も話してないんだけど
というかウィキペディアとは無関係のツイート晒しに便乗して噛み付いてくる貴方の方がよっぽど気持ち悪い of wine nearly three-quarters full and the tin cup, walked over to
the corporal, filled the cup to the brim, and dutifully offered it
to my superior officer. He drank, and returned the empty cup to me.
Filling it for myself, I finished the contents, and then asked him
for a cigarette--just one. The corporal gave it me, and I began the
conversation.
"Bad for us others if you lost the chevrons, corporal."
"Why? Why? what did I say last night?"
"Oh, nothing to speak about; but, corporal----" Then I stopped and
looked straight at him.
"Well, my comrade, what do you wish to say?"
Now he was afraid; he began to fear something hidden by the kindness.
"But, my corporal, could you not make an appointment now, so that after
the evening soup you would be engaged until roll call--away from this
place and in good company?"
"Oh yes, yes; that is easy."
"And your comrade might like to smoke and drink a little; if so, my >結局のところ「山田の立場」しか根拠なくないですか？WP:CRITERIAには「山田の立場を重視する」みたいな規定は無いです。
おい例祭どうしちゃったの落ち着いて corporal, after the evening soup, when we others leave the room, look
behind your knapsack."
"Good comrade; but will anything happen?"
"Yes; a man will go to hospital for a week."
"To hospital?"
"Yes."
"Only to hospital?"
"My honour; only to hospital."
"And for a week?"
"Well, perhaps for ten days."
"But only to hospital?"
"Have I not pledged my honour?"
"Very good; I will see my good friend Jean this evening. But you, you
will remember, only the hospital." >>206
例祭の長文癖が死体蹴りにつながってるな
ヴィクトリアの用例をいくつか出せば山田もすぐ撤回するはずなのに
あそこまでダラダラ批判し続ける意味はない After the evening soup, as all were going out, he called me.
"It is settled, my comrade; only the hospital?"
"But yes," I answered.
"Not this?" said the corporal, fingering a bayonet.
I shook my head.
"Not this?" and he touched the butt of a rifle.
I answered as before.
"And only hospital; word of honour?"
"Word of honour," I replied.
"Be it so then; I am well content."
Then he looked behind his knapsack and found half-a-bottle of brandy, a
bottle of wine, and six cigars. He turned, put out his hand to me, and
said: >>203
禿同
SumaruのMatsutake 00お仕置きでも同じこと感じた
管理行為に一切手を出さないと桜ポップに確約させたむよむよが、今回も制御に入ればいいんだが、ミラブルbotブロックの件でスベってから謹慎してるっぽいんだよな この15分ボット、専ブラで消せない？
>>210
人手不足だよね >>211
to をNGワードに入れたら全部消える "You are my good comrade. Have no fear; if there should be trouble, it
is you, it is you that I will save." I laughed and shook his hand; he
gave me a cigar, and the next moment was sorry for his generosity.
Schmidt went off after the evening soup to see his chum.
"Very well, very well," we said to one another. Lots were quickly
drawn--we had not a son amongst us to toss with--and Nicholas the
Russian, Guillaume the Belgian, Jean Jacques from Lorraine, and I
were chosen as executioners of justice. The others lounged outside
in different places, all anxious to let us know in good time of the
arrival of the condemned. About an hour after soup we were warned that
he was coming towards the hut. At once the blanket which was ready was
laid on the ground directly inside the door, and each man stood at his
corner waiting for the victim. The others outside gaily saluted him,
and the fool did not suspect the unusual courtesy; he was humming an
air to himself as he stepped through the doorway on to the blanket. In
a second we had raised it at the corners; he stumbled and fell, in a
limp heap, in the bottom. We jerked the blanket upward, and crash came
his head against the roof of the hut. We let go at the word of command,
given by the Russian; flop went his body against the floor. Again and
again this was repeated, till our arms were tired, and the others who
had crowded in and had been excited by the fun swore that he had not
been punished sufficiently and that they would take our places. I was
glad enough to surrender my corner to an Italian, for, indeed, my arms >>206
>>208
[[ノート:ヴィクトリアダービー]]か
確かにオーバーキル気味だけど、これもまあ例祭の苛立ちはわかる
むしろ「山田先生どうしちゃったの」という感じの改名提案 井戸端でまだミラブル攻撃が続いてんだな
Twitterで躁鬱の可能性を自ら発信してると 元管理者が山田の思い（笑）だけで改名提案出せばゲンコツものだろ >>215
こいつHmanじゃないの
むかしミラブルに切れてたよね were weary, and my feelings--I was only a boy, you must remember--were
shocked at the sight of the unresisting and almost insensible bit of
humanity in the blanket.
After a short time the Russian said the game should stop, and we, the
other appointed dispensers of punishment, backed him up. Some grumbled,
but Nicholas, to give him his due, was not a man to be turned from his
purpose, and his reputation was such that nobody was very anxious to
fall out with him. So the blanket was dropped for the last time, pulled
from under the Alsatian, replaced on his bed, and we all went out,
leaving the wretched fellow groaning on the ground. After a short talk
we came back, gave him a drink, put him to bed, and prepared to meet
the corporal on his return.
The corporal came in a little before roll call.
"What's wrong?" he asked as he heard the moaning of the Alsatian.
Nobody answered. The corporal went across to the injured man's cot and
again inquired. The poor devil told him as well as he could, and the
_sous-officier_ at once ordered us all not to leave the hut until his
return. He went out, and came back in a few minutes with the sergeant
of the section. There is no need in telling all about the inquiry that
followed; suffice it to say that the corporal was the only man sleeping
in the room that night--the Alsatian was in hospital and we others
under guard. >>217
人工知能云々の下りから察するとYatobiとかGcGとかの名前が思い浮かぶんだけど
まあHmanのマッチポンプの可能性もなくはないのかな Of course, our conduct was approved of throughout the battalion.
Regimental tradition is dearer than justice, and we were regarded as
good soldiers and good comrades who had merely vindicated our honour.
But the army tradition is: when a charge is made and proved, punish.
Officers _may_ sympathise, but they _must_ punish. Therefore we of the
squad, corporal and Alsatian excepted, were sentenced to do extra drill
every day for a month and sleep in our clothes under guard every night.
It was a hard punishment. The weather was hot, we had little change of
underclothing, and when we lay down on the planks for the night with
the shirts and drawers on that we had worn during the day our sleep
was restless, fitful, and uneasy. It is a wonder we did not mutiny;
however, that would be going too far, so we counted the days and nights
that intervened until we should be free soldiers again. The Alsatian
was transferred from the hospital to another battalion, and I came
across him again, and was glad to find that he bore no malice; indeed,
he admitted that we were justified in acting as we had done and that it
was his own fault, as he had not asked for a transfer.
The incident I have related will give some idea of my life in the
corps. I shall have soon to relate another story, which will show that
jealousy might arise between companies as well as in a squad. CHAPTER VI
About this time there were signs of a disturbance amongst the
semi-savage tribes that hold the oases on the borders of the great
desert. These are not, and I daresay never will be, brought completely
under subjection. They are to the French in Algeria what the hill
tribes of the Himalayas are to the British in Hindostan. They are
by nature, proud, fierce, suspicious; by religion, contemptuous of
Christian dogs; by habit, predatory. They are fairly well armed,
indeed, they make their own weapons and ammunition. When they go on the
warpath there is always more trouble than one would expect, considering
their numbers; they are so elusive, so trained to forced marches, so
dashing in attack and swift in retreat, that the Government has to
allow at least three men for every Arab. If a general could corner
them and get well home with the bayonet after the usual preliminaries
of shell firing and musketry, or if the rascals would only come on and
have done with it, a quarter of the number would suffice. But these
pleasant things don't occur--I mean pleasant for the man with the
modern rifle--at least, if they do, it is only when all the oases of
the district have been seized, and then the Arabs may prefer to hazard
all on a big fight, but as a rule they bow to destiny and surrender.
Well, one morning we noticed the commandant and other officers jubilant and smiling, and very soon the news got down to us through
the _sous-officiers_ that our battalion was for active service. How
delighted we were! All punishments in the battalion were at once
remitted; we had no more to suffer for the affair of the Alsatian; and
the other squad, which had treated Alsatian number two in a similar
manner, was also included in the pardon.
We were not long getting ready for the march. The day after the good
news came the battalion tramped out of cantonments nearly 1100 strong,
every man in good condition, and with 150 cartridges in his pouches.
A significant order was given on the parade ground, when we formed
up for the last time in column of companies. We were told to break
open each man a packet of cartridges and to load. We did so, and the
commandant addressed us, and gave us fair warning that he could not
permit _accidents_--he laid great stress on the word and repeated it
more than once--he told us that if an _accident_ did occur it would
be bad for the man whose rifle should be found to be discharged; he
quoted the Bible to us, saying something about "a life for a life and
a tooth"--yes, I think it was a tooth--"for a tooth." The old soldiers
understood, and we others learned the meaning before we came to the
first halting-place.
The fact is, in every regiment, and nowhere more than in the Foreign
Legion, there are unpopular officers and sub-officers, and there are
feuds amongst the men, and what is easier than to loose off a rifle accidentally and, accidentally as it were, hit the man you dislike? In
action the thing is done far more commonly than people suppose--and
that is the safest time to do it; but after a fight, when all the men's
rifles are foul, and when a cartridge can be flung away as soon as
used, a bullet is sometimes sent through a tent on the off-chance of
hitting the right man within. So the commandant was justified when he
warned and threatened us about accidents.
We marched about twenty-five kilometres every day, and did it
cheerfully. We did not mind the country through which we passed, for
all our thoughts were turned to the work before us. The veterans were
in good humour. What advice they gave! "When the Arab charges you, mon
enfant, or when you charge the Arab, which is better, thrust at his
face the first time and at his body the second." "But why?" "Ah, my
boy, give him the bayonet in the body and still he will strike; give
it to him in the head, and then you can finish with a second stroke.
And, again, the glint of the bayonet will disturb his aim, and, even
should you miss with the first thrust, you can always get your weapon
back and send it home before he recovers--of course, that is if you are
quick enough. Moreover, the Arab expects you to lunge at his body, and
you must always, if you are a good soldier, disappoint your enemy. Then
there is no protection for his face; but a button or a piece of brass,
even a secretly-worn cuirass, may turn your point and leave you at his
mercy." >>227
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい >>231-232
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい >>233-234
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさ >>212
Tomos、totti、Tomonoriら「」 >>238
単語の前後に半角スペース入れれば回避できる We eagerly drank in all this and similar hints from the men of
experience. The old soldiers were delighted. We were all as happy as
schoolboys out for a holiday; we endured the heat and dust without
muttering a complaint; nay, even old quarrels were forgotten, and the
man who would not look at his detested comrade a month before now
helped him with his knapsack or offered some tobacco, with a friendly
smile.
When the halt was called in the evening, the sentries were posted,
the fires lit, the little tents put up, the messes cooked for the
squads; but very soon the air of bustle and activity gave place to
an appearance of quiet ease. When the last meal of the day was over,
and the rifles, bayonets, straps, clothes, and everything else had
been cleaned, we lay about the camp in small parties, here two or
three, there half-a-dozen, yonder a full squad. Again we listened to
the _vieux soldats_; we made them repeat their stories of war and
pillage; we eagerly questioned them about the chances of loot. Some
of our fellows had fought in the Russo-Turkish war of '78; Nicholas,
whom I have mentioned, was believed to have commanded a company of
Russian guards at the siege of Plevna, and, though he never said in
so many words that he had even carried a rifle and knapsack in that
war, he told us stories of it that could be told only by an onlooker,
and it was easy to see that he was a man of birth and education, and,
judging by the money with which his purse was often filled--not for
long though, as he was a prince to spend--of wealth as well. It was >>239
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい during this march that I learned for the first time the privileges
of a soldier as the soldier conceives them--I mean his chances when
the fighting is over and the enemy's camp, village, or town is in his
hands. Perhaps I had best say nothing or, if anything at all, but
little of them. One thing I may mention; it is foolish for people to
suppose that fighting men of to-day are at all different from their
compeers of yore--the only change is that the rapine and the pillage
are not boasted of so openly--but there is just as little of the spirit
of Christianity in a so-called civilised army as there used to be in
a legion of Julius Cﾃｦsar, perhaps even less. Many people will regret
this, and yet you always find the goody-goodies and even the women
loudest in crying out for war to avenge the wrongs, or fancied wrongs,
of their country or to acquire new territory and new trade. I say this:
if the women of the world only once realised to the full what war means
to the women of the losers they would throw all their weight into the
scale of peace. And remember, armaments are such to-day that no nation
is absolutely safe from invasion; social questions, the relations
between capital and labour, the currency, slave labour amongst whites,
even in the United States--most happily situated of all countries--the
eternal feud between whites and blacks in the South--any of these may
at any moment cause a war worse than a war of invasion, because more
bitter, more relentless, more capable of leaving a heritage of hate.
Who is the more to be blamed: the rigid moralist at home who admits
that most wars are the devil's work but proclaims that the war which he
favours and shouts for is really blessed by God; or the soldier who, >>244
トコロテン射精バカネ切干大根は15分間隔英文コピペ荒らしとストーカー行為やめなさい >>243
市井の人、また打ち上げ花火か...
質問がつまんないから回答もつまんないのしか出てこない after dreary weeks or months of weary marching, with broken boots or no
boots at all during the day, and chilling nights with only a tattered
greatcoat or a ragged blanket to save him from the dew, with the
memory upon him of hunger and thirst, of dust and fatigue, of constant
knowledge that any moment may see him a corpse or a maimed weakling on
the ground, forgets the Ten Commandments and even his natural humanity
when the final charge has been successful and the chance has at last
come for, in part at least, repaying himself, as soldiers have since
war began repaid themselves, for toil and trouble and danger in the
conquered town? Blame the man who does wrong if you will, but blame
more the foolish people who, fancying that rapine and pillage can never
stalk abroad in their own happy land, let loose the dogs of war upon
their neighbours. The Carthaginian maids and matrons acclaimed their
returning heroes; the day came when the Roman legionaries taught those
very maids and matrons the real meaning of war. How proud the Roman
women were of their gallant warriors when the gorgeous triumph unfolded
itself on the long road to the Capitol! With what different feelings
did they look on war as the news came that Attila had forced his way
into the rich plains of Lombardy; or, even before that, with what
agonised apprehension did they not look forth from the walls at the
red glare in the sky that told of the presence of Hannibal? We abuse
Turks and Arabs, Filipinos and Chinese, the Baggara from the desert
and the tribal mountaineers from the borders of Afghanistan because,
forsooth, they do not make war as Christianity dictates. And what about
the allied armies in China of late? They were Christians--by repute >>229
こういう奴って自分の嫌いな奴を貶めたくて仕方がないのだろうな
どう考えてもバカネの荒らしに決まっている at least; but what were they in reality? Just a little worse than the
Boxers, that is all. Do I blame them? No; I know the temptations; I
know how quickly the soldiers of Christian, so-called Christian, armies
are taught to forget the Ten Commandments. I am not surprised, nor do
I feel called upon to censure. I shall leave the casting of stones to
the people who are always strong to resist their passions, especially
those passions which soldiers feel and yield to most readily--lust of
others' property, which your virtuous stockbroker will never allow to
enter into his bosom; lust of strong drink, which never affects the
shouters for war in the streets; lust of--well, another lust which need
not be spoken of here, as I have already hinted more than enough of it
and its consequences.
However, I've done with moralising. We young soldiers heard, and heard
with an awakening of delight, of pleasurable anticipation, the things
that might happen when the fighting for the day was done. And war does
not seem all war. You've got to cook and eat, to forage and drink, to
mount guard or sleep, just as if you were back in cantonments, and the
daily routine soon grows upon a man--at any rate it soon grew upon me.
At last we joined the general. We were the first of his reinforcements,
and very soon, as others arrived, the defensive gave place to the
offensive. I can't tell about the progress of the little campaign; all
I know is our share of it, and for me that was quite enough. For a few
weeks we were cornering the enemy, seizing a well here, a caravan of provisions there, and having slight brushes, in which a dozen or two
men killed and wounded represented our losses. The Arabs, having been
beaten back by the men originally attacked, did not seem to care to
give the general a good stand-up fight now that his forces had been
increased, and after some time we began to fancy that they were merely
holding out for good terms and would at last surrender in the usual
way. Not that we grew careless about our guards, pickets, and vedettes,
discipline prevented that, and luckily, for when all the oases had been
seized and garrisoned except one, the Arabs, in desperation I believe,
determined to throw all upon the hazard of a battle. This was my first
real experience of fighting, for I don't count it fighting to advance
in skirmishing order and fire at constantly moving figures half-a-mile
away. I judged their opinion of us by ours of them, and, indeed, we
never even ducked the head, for we could not fear bullets at such a
range.
Our cavalry had been pushed forward to locate the enemy and hold him if
possible. My company and two companies of native infantry and three or
four guns were sent in support, and the main body, coming along slowly
and laboriously owing to difficulties of transport, moved in our rear,
the flanks well protected by outlying horse. One evening when we were
about fifteen kilometres in front of the general--too far, of course,
but some officers do so want to distinguish themselves when they get a
separate command--the chasseurs d'Afrique and the spahis rode back upon
us. They reported the enemy in a strong position at the last oasis left to them, about twelve kilometres away, and our commanding officer sent
back the news at once, halting meanwhile for instructions. He acted
somewhat wisely too in getting us to throw up a sort of fortification
on a piece of rising ground. A circular trench was dug; the stuff taken
out formed a weak rampart; a biscuit or two and a glass of brandy
were served out to every man; and then we lay down on the hard ground
without a tent or even a blanket for shelter or covering. The horsemen
fell back on the main body; their work was done, and they would be
worse than useless in a night attack.
Most of the night passed quietly, and I, who had done two hours
sentry-go before midnight without seeing or hearing anything which
could disquiet me, began to hope that the savage devils would wait to
be attacked. About an hour before sunrise the corporal in charge of
the outlying picket called me for another turn of duty. I arose from
where I lay, took my rifle from the ground, and prepared to set out for
my post, about eighty paces in front. I was to relieve Nicholas the
Russian. As I took his place he whispered: "Look out, young one; the
dangerous hour!"
When the corporal and his party went away I gazed intently into the
darkness towards the south. I knew by experience gained in many a night
watch that very soon the sun would, as it always seemed to me, born and
bred in a northern land, jump up on the horizon and send his welcome
arrows of light across shrub and rock and sand. Once the light came >>248
つまんない質問か性格の悪い質問しかしないよな the sudden rush in upon the camp would be impossible; the modern rifle
would stave off all attack; spear and bayonet would clash together only
when our leaders saw that the time had come when we should be on the
rush and the enemy on the run.
As I gazed I fancied that there was a movement in my front. I could
not at the time, nor can I now, though I am a man of wider experience
to-day, swear that I actually saw anything, but that an impalpable,
strange, indefinite change was coming over the blackness of the desert,
I neither doubted nor misunderstood. Raising my rifle to my shoulder,
quietly and cautiously as one does whose own body may be in a second
the target for countless bullets, I aimed steadily at the blackest
part of the blackness and fired. As I turned to run to the picket an
awful shriek rang out, telling me that my bullet had found a billet,
and then, while I ran shouting: "Aux armes, aux armes!" a hideous,
savage cry ran in a great circle all about the camp. When I closed on
the picket the corporal was giving his orders: "One volley, and run
for the camp." The volley was fired, and we all ran madly back to the
entrenchments, crying: "Aux armes, les ennemis!" not, indeed, to warn
our comrades of their danger, but to let them know that we were the men
of the outlying picket fleeing to camp and not the mad vanguard of the
attack. We got inside the little rampart, helped over by willing arms,
and at once the crash of musketry began. Our men had their bayonets
fixed; for a double purpose this--for defence if the Arabs came home
in the charge, to lower the muzzle if only shooting were necessary. did・not・or・andとかも入れれるねさっすが頭いい
forとかofとかはUNとかでありがちだから使わない方良さそうだけど >>261
管理者の資質があるかどうかを問う質問
失言を期待したり過去のミスを掘り起こすだけの質問は必要ない 「好きなアイドルは誰ですか？」
と聞いて適切な対応が出来るかをみる Luckily our firing became so successful that the Arabs stopped to
reply, and, you may take my word for it, when a charging man halts to
fire he is already weakening for retreat.
Well, we kept the enemy at a safe distance till the blessed sun sprang
up and turned the chances to our side. Yet still they hung around, and
a dropping fire was maintained on both sides. They did not now surround
the little camp; they had all collected in almost a semicircle on
the southern side. While the desultory firing went on our commandant
eagerly turned his gaze from time to time towards the north, and he
was at last rewarded. He sent orders to give a ration of brandy to
every man--the rascal! He had seen the glint of lance heads on the
horizon, and he wanted to take a little of the pursuer's glory from the
cavalrymen. Glory, glory! what follies are committed in thy name! The
brandy was given out, the news went around that the horse were coming
up at the gallop, the men looked with blood-lust in their eyes at the
lying-down semicircle to the south, the commandant flung off jacket,
belt, scabbard, keeping only sabre and pistol, and with a wild cheer
and cries of "Kill, kill!" we rushed from the camp straight at the
enemy. They were not cowards. They gave us a wild, scattered fire, and
then, flinging away their rifles and flintlocks, came daringly, with
loud cries of "Allah!" to meet us. And in their charge they covered a
greater distance than we did in ours, for they came along every man
at racing speed, and their line grew more and more irregular, whereas
we, disciplined and trained to move all as one man, easily fell into >>223
ワイからも言うたるでェ。
何で[[矢上総一郎]]から{{Otheruses}}を外したンねン?! どこが「混同すべきものではない」言うねン?! [[同音異字]]でも断じて認めへンのンか?! >>268
クリハヤ、切干大根
管理者とLTAの共闘www 英文荒らしなんて米帝かぶれYassieの仕業としか考えられませんｗｗｗｗｗ the regulation _pas gymnastique_, and so went forward a solid, steady,
cheering line, officers leading, and clarions at our backs sounding the
charge.
As we neared one another a great shout went up from us. Nicholas
the Russian, who was my front-rank man, dashed forward and stabbed
a yelling demon rushing at him with uplifted spear. I ran into his
place, and saw almost at once a dusky madman, with a short, scanty
beard, coming straight at me with murder in his eyes. I remembered
the advice given by the _vieux soldats_, and as he raised his sword I
plunged my bayonet with all my force into his face. He half reeled, he
almost fell, and as he recovered again I lunged and struck him fair
and full on the breast bone. Again he reeled, yet still he tried to
strike; I thrust a third time, and now at his bare neck; the spouting
blood followed out the bayonet as I drew it forth and back to strike
again. Before I had time to do so the Arab fell, a convulsive tremor
passed over his body, the limbs contracted, the eyes opened wide to
the sky, the jaw fell, and for the first time I saw my enemy lie
stark and cold in death before me. I stood watching, with a curious
feeling at my heart, the body that lay so strangely still upon the
sand. I felt no desire that life should return to the corpse, nor did
I feel at all inclined to drive my weapon home again; it seemed to
me that my assailant and the dead were not one and the same, and the
animosity which I had felt for the living foe was lost, nay, utterly
extinguished, in wonder at the awful change my handiwork had produced. サクラのが低質な管理かは知らんが
低質なユーザーではある 米帝かぶれYassieは英文荒らしをやめなさい！！！！！ >>265
失言を期待したり過去のミスを掘り起こすだけの質問に対して
どう答えるかで管理者としての資質を見れるんだよ
管理者になったら糞みたいな奴らを相手しないといけない機会増えるからね >>276
だって英文ですよｗｗｗｗｗ
米帝かぶれYassie以外に考えられないじゃないですかｗｗｗｗｗ >>277
それじゃ永久にまともな奴は誰も管理者になりたがらないな >>279
管理者とはそういう役割だから
楽な仕事ではない >>280
違うよ
削除やブロックの機能が使えるだけの利用者だよ Remember, I was only a boy, and I had taken that which no man can
restore. Many times since have I looked without a shudder, almost
without a thought, on the face of my dead foeman, but on that morning
in the desert my mind was shocked by the new experience.
Suddenly I heard a trumpet and a cry. I looked towards the right; the
spahis were riding at top speed with levelled lances on the foe. Our
men were scattered, fighting in squads and parties over the plain,
driving the Arabs back. The press of battle had gone beyond me. In a
moment the horsemen swept into the Arab ranks; the lances rose and fell
with terrible significance as the mass rolled on. Our work was over;
the cavalry so rushed and harried the fleeing enemy that the rebellion
was practically at an end, for that time of course, before noon. When
the main body came up the chiefs were in our camp, prepared to accept
any terms offered by the general. These were hard enough. All arms to
be surrendered, a heavy fine to be paid, their villages to be kept in
our possession till all the petty fortifications should be dismantled.
Yes; my company kept a village and an oasis, and I fancy that the next
generation of Arabs was whiter than their forbears. But that is war;
and the people--the goody-goodies and the stockbrokers and the foolish
women--who believe that honour dwells in the heart of a soldier on
active service will lament our wickedness and get ready for the next
occasion when they can send off their own soldiers to war, glorious
war! [[Wikipedia:コメント依頼/Ptyths 他]]
編集合戦する前にコメント依頼すべきだったのでは？
しかしこれ、[[LTA:TEAMF]]や[[Category:金融の専門家の操り人形だと疑われるユーザー]]を思い出すなあ ■ このスレッドは過去ログ倉庫に格納されています
