Once more unto the breach...We few, we happy few, we band of brothers!

Fighter1 said:
For some reason this sits in my head and I occasionally recall it; I have no idea where it came from or if I even recall it with 100% accuracy (heck for all I know I thought this up when I was 10 or something...); so for what its worth:

"There are times for discretion and diplomacy, there are times for niceties and courtesy and then there are these times where neither of the formers need be thought. This is the time for battle where your heart will run free as the warrior within each of you is released unto the demons before us - knowing that the blood you spill of thy enemy will wrought your children's lives longer and prosperous and where your own blood, should it spill this day, will make those children remember what it is to be what they are - from this day forward should you see tomorrow or naught - you are forever immortal."

That is just outstanding!!!!!
 

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If I may humbly (yeah, right!) introduce an atypical 'leader giving inspirational speech before battle', here's one. It's one of the pieces of fiction from the thread in my sig. I decided to take the Henry V at Agincourt scene (with a little side-swipe at Braveheart) and give it a bit of a twist. Enjoy!

The Siege

“…can take our lives, but they’ll never take … our FREEDOOOOOMMM!!!”

Sir Orion raised his mailed fist in defiance of the enemy beyond his walls as his cry reverberated off the battlements. After a dramatic pause, he lowered his arm and looked down at the gathered soldiers, hoping for (and half expecting) a resounding cheer. He did get a cheer and a round of applause to boot, but it only came from Sir Gahon and the other young hotheads standing to the side, puffed up with pride with their dreams of chivalry and glory. The soldiers simply stood there stolidly, with expressions ranging from boredom to sheer, barely controlled, fear of the hordes without. Old Horstein, in the front row, leaned forward and carefully spat a stream of tobacco onto the ground before straightening up to lean on his pike again. Feet shuffled behind him, though naturally nobody had the temerity to leave.

Orion’s face did not show it, but his heart fell. We are doomed, he thought, and for all my brave words, they all know it. We’re outnumbered ten to one, and this keep isn’t strong enough to keep them out for more than a day. After that, it’ll be a slaughter. And from the looks on their faces, they’ll be surrendering as soon as the wall goes down – for all the good it’ll do them.

His face showed none of the thoughts as he turned away and headed down the steps to the small podium he’d been standing on. At the bottom, he looked at the young knights, drawing another unwonted cheer from them. But it was the laconic, “Good talk,” from the man standing some distance away from them that momentarily cheered him. Cedric nodded as the commander looked at him and then asked, “Mind if I say a few words?”

“Not at all,” said Orion. Come on, old friend – let’s see some of that magic. Please.

“Thanks.”

Cedric hitched his belt a little higher and trotted up the steps, before making a jaunty little jump onto the podium that drew a couple of chuckles from the crowd. His battered armor made him stand in sharp contrast to the commander in his shining mail, and the comparison was heightened as he plopped down on the platform’s edge, dangling his legs, and then raised a bottle to the crowd, before taking a hearty swig. The chuckles spread into a little ripple, and a couple of whispers started up.

“Ahhh!” said Cedric, after swallowing, “Now that really hit the spot!” He shook the bottle in a mock-threatening manner at the crowd and said, “If any of you bastards let bloody Kurgash’s horde get our booze, I’m really going to be pissed off!” Orion winced inwardly, but noticed that the chuckles were beginning to take on a regular tone. Even old Horstein’s lips were twisting in amusement.

Cedric waved an arm in Orion’s general direction and said, “If our commander doesn’t mind me saying so, I’ve got a little beef to pick with him. He gave you some erroneous information just now. They actually CAN take your freedom. In fact, considering what I know about Kurgash and his need for slaves for his mines up north, I’d say he’s positively looking forward to it.”

Orion’s eyes went a little wide, and he heard angry whispers from Gahon and his men. What the hell are you doing, Cedric? he thought, even as he noticed that the original chuckles had ceased completely.

“Of course,” continued Cedric, without skipping a beat, “Depending on how … er, cute you are, you might find that slavery doesn’t involve dying in the mines. Let’s just say that Kurgash’s ogres like man-flesh. And not just to eat, if you know what I mean, and I think you do.” Despite the claim, Cedric made a crude gesture to illustrate his point. There were a couple more chuckles from the crowd, but they sounded forced. Orion noticed that some of the younger men, including among the knights, had turned a pale shade of green.

Cedric took a quick swig, giving the idea time to percolate. Now think about that before you consider surrendering, he thought, before going on, “Of course – you could easily make sure that you don’t end up as a slave or as Big Harga’s boy-toy. Just get yourself killed tomorrow. Shouldn’t be too difficult to do, actually. Just don’t defend yourself well enough and some hobgoblin will be bloody happy to cut you in half. Sure, it’ll be painful and all for a bit, but then you’ll be dead and won’t have to worry about slavery or freedom or anything like that. Peachy!”

Orion barely managed to restrain himself from rushing onto the platform. What in heaven’s name are you doing Cedric? he thought frantically. If they weren’t panicking before, they definitely will be now! Glaring back and forth at the assembled soldiers, he saw them exchange fearful glances, and ripples of uneasy mutterings began to spread.

The sound of Cedric’s bottle shattering on the stones drew Orion’s attention, and he saw that Cedric was back on his feet. “Unless you’re like me,” said Cedric, looking down at the scared men. “You see – I am a servant of the High Lord. And I’ve got a lot more important things to do than be killed by Kurgash’s trash. Or be a slave. Or, for that matter, get an ogre boyfriend.”

The last comment still drew a couple of chuckles, but Cedric spoke right over them. “I’m guessing that you’re like me. You walk like me, you talk like me, you drink like me – so I’m guessing you think like me. And I think there’s only one thing for us to do. We’re going to kill those bastards.” He continued without a pause, “You see, it’s quite simple. I don’t want to die. And if I’m alive and they’ve got me, I’m better off dead. So I’m just going to have to kill enough of them to make them think I’m not worth the effort. And the same goes for all of you. We’ve got to beat them so bad that they say, ‘Unholy crap – these sons-of-bitches aren’t worth dying for.’ You guys ain’t got to die for the king. You’ve just got to make those guys die for Kurgash.”

To his disbelief, Orion noticed a few nods in the crowd, followed by a couple of rumbles of agreement. One or two weapons were shaken. I don’t believe it! It’s working.

Cedric, meanwhile, had leaned over and beckoned the crowd closer. With puzzled expressions, they shuffled forward until they stood all around the podium. He leaned over with a conspiratorial grin and said, “Plus we’ve got the power. They’re just coming here to get our asses – metaphorically, well mostly, speaking. But we own our asses. And the one who owns the ass has a whole lot more power than the one who wants it.” He waved at the gathered people and said, “Ask any married man here.” And winked.

There was a split second of silence and then guffaws rang through the crowd, followed by a couple of cheers. Orion couldn’t help laughing himself, even as he noticed that Horstein was laughing and nodding his head so hard that tobacco juice was rolling out his mouth.

“So,” said Cedric, “Here’s what we do tomorrow. When Kurgash’s people get here, we give them the finger. And then when they get to our walls, we give them the finger again, only this time we give it to them with the rest of the fist and an arm’s-length of steel with it. And we’re doing that all day, and the next day, and the next … until they go home crying and tell stories about how we’re all such lousy dates.” More laughs and cheers rang out.

“Now I’m going to get off this podium and we’re all going to go get ready to kick some ass tomorrow. Because they may try to take our lives and they may try to take our freedom, but the one thing they’ll never, ever take are our asses! I own my ass, dammit! Who owns your ass?”

Orion almost choked at the rousing cry of “I OWN MY ASS!” that rang out.

Cedric somersaulted to his feet, drawing more cheers. “And are you giving an ogre your ass?”

“HELL, NO!”

“So what are we going to make Kurgash kiss tomorrow?”

“WE’RE GOING TO MAKE HIM KISS OUR ASS!!”

Cedric laughed joyfully and leaped down from the podium, landing on his feet amidst the men, armor ringing out upon him. As he made his way through them, soldiers clapped him on the back and cheered. He reached the edge of the crowd and clapped Horstein on the rear, causing the old soldier to scowl theatrically and wave his pike, drawing another loud laugh from the men around.

Stepping out of the crowd, he walked towards Orion as the cheering soldiers began to disband. “I think they’re ready,” he said with a grin, looking at the commander’s expression. “And don’t worry – the historians will never remember that ‘Kiss my ass, Kurgash’ will be our battle-cry tomorrow. Well, probably not.”

Orion laughed as Cedric clapped him on the shoulder and said, “Now we better go do some planning. I really do want to make that bastard seriously regret ever :):):):)ing with us.” He threw another look at Orion and added, “Metaphorically, of course.” As the grinning paladin turned away, Orion headed after him, feeling hope spring in his breast for the first time in days.
 

I prefer something more simple.

‘Where are you, Death?’ he called. ‘Where do you hide on this fine day?’ The echoes boomed around
the valleys … DEATH, DEATH, Death, Death …
‘I am Druss! And I defy you!’

'Come in and die, you whoresons! I am Druss and this is death!'

Okay, so I like David Gemell. :)
 

Real warriors don't give speeches ... real warriors shout a battle cry and charge!

There's the Spartan classic: "With your shield or on it."

Or perhaps: "Kill them all. God will know his own".

"Gentlemen, the enemy stands behind his entrenchments armed to the teeth. We must attack him and win, or else perish." - Frederick the Great at Leuthen, 1757

For the defender: "Stand firm; for well you know that hardship and danger are the price of glory, and that sweet is the savour of a life of courage and deathless renown beyond the grave." - Alexander the Great, 324 BC

"Danger gleams like sunshine to a brave man's eyes." - Euripedes

"The corpse of an enemy always smells sweet." - Napoleon

"Go, therefore, to meet the enemy with two objects before you: victory or death." - Scipio Africanus

"The pursuit of victory without slaughter is likely to lead to slaughter without victory." - The Duke of Marlborough

"Victory at all costs, victory in spite of terror, victory however long and hard the road may be, for without victory there will be no survival." - Sir Winston Churchill
 

My personal fav for a war speech comes from the old saxon poem, The Battle of Maldon. This is the reply of the commander of the saxon host, Byrhtnoth, after the norsemen insultingly offer a chance to "buy quiet peace at their price" . .

Hear, sea-wanderer, what this nation says! These men will give you spears as tribute, the poisoned javelin and ancient swords. Seaman's spokesman, report this back! Give your people this distasteful news, that here stands a worthy earl and his troops that are willing to defend this, his ancestral home, the country of Ethelred, my lord's nation and land . . It will be a pity if you were to take our riches without a fight, now that you have intruded so far into our country. Not so easily will you get our gold. First point and edge will sort things out between us.
 

These are the lyrics to a Garth Brooks song. It is NOT a country song.

IRELAND
They say mother earth is breathing
With each wave that finds the shore
Her soul rises in the evening
For to open twilights door
Her eyes are the stars in heaven
Watching o’er us all the while
And her heart it is in ireland
Deep within the emerald isle.

We are forty against hundreds
In someone elses bloody war
We know not why were fighting
Or what we’re dying for
They will storm us in the morning
When the sunlight turns to sky
Death is waiting for it’s dance now
Fate has sentenced us to die.

(chorus)
Ireland I am coming home
I can see your rolling fields of green
And fences made of stone.
I am reaching out won’t you take my hand
I’m coming home ireland.

Oh the captain he lay bleeding
I can hear him calling me
These men are yours now for the leading
Show them to their destiny
And as I look up all around me
I see the ragged tired and torn
I tell them to make ready
’cause we’re not waiting for the morn.

Ireland I am coming home
I can see your rolling fields of green
And fences made of stone.
I am reaching out won’t you take my hand
I’m coming home ireland.

Now the fog is deep and heavy
As we forge the dark and fear
We can hear their horses breathing
As in silence we draw near
There are no words to be spoken
Just a look to say good-bye
I draw a breath and night is broken
As I scream our battle cry.

Ireland I am coming home
I can see your rolling fields of green
And fences made of stone.
I am reaching out won’t you take my hand
I’m coming home ireland.

I am home ireland
 





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