Summary

Alfred W. Drayson The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a Soldier

Your genuine blackguard, whether he be a “rough” in a London mob, or a soldier in the ranks, is invariably a coward when he is equally matched. All attempts to reform him by discipline, good advice, and kind treatment, will fail in making a bad man good, but fear of death and the “cat-o’-nine-tails” will make him the most abject wretch alive. Lash him to the halberds after a drum-head court-martial on the line of march and he will writhe about like an eel, and scream like a jay before a lash is laid on his back.
Source: Gutenberg

Alfred W. Drayson The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a Soldier

Always cheerful and fond of company, I would never debar the soldier from enjoyment, either in or out of barracks. I do not mind confessing that I have had many a “turn up” with policemen, especially when those so-called “guardians of the peace” have attempted to take an unwarrantable liberty with a comrade. But to those “ruffians” in the uniform of soldiers, who constantly figure in our police-courts on the cowardly charge of fighting with their belts and indiscriminately striking civilians in the streets with the frightful weapons, I would say, “You are no soldiers.”
Source: Gutenberg

Alfred W. Drayson The Young Dragoon: Every Day Life of a Soldier

When disturbed and started at a dusting pace, the young officers would ride after—them as if for dear life, cracking their whips or flourishing a sword close to their very tails, and then would come, in motley crowd, soldiers in undress, looking as excited as if in front of the enemy, and bringing up the rear would be all the rag, tag, and bob-tail of the camp. The brute invariably ran towards the hills, and if he gained them unscathed he was safe, for both horses and men would be blown ere they could follow up the slopes.
Source: Gutenberg

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