The Charge of the Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson

The Charge of the Light Brigade

Half a league, half a league,
Half a league onward,
All in the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.
"Forward, the Light Brigade!
"Charge for the guns!" he said:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

"Forward, the Light Brigade!"
Was there a man dismay'd?
Not tho' the soldier knew
Someone had blunder'd:
Theirs not to make reply,
Theirs not to reason why,
Theirs but to do and die:
Into the valley of Death
Rode the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon in front of them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flash'd all their sabres bare,
Flash'd as they turn'd in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wonder'd:
Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right thro' the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reel'd from the sabre stroke
Shatter'd and sunder'd.
Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volley'd and thunder'd;
Storm'd at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came thro' the jaws of Death
Back from the mouth of Hell,
All that was left of them,
Left of six hundred.

When can their glory fade?
O the wild charge they made!
All the world wondered.
Honor the charge they made,
Honor the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred.
-- Alfred, Lord Tennyson

If you want to know the story of the events related in this poem, there's a quick account here or you can do a quick Google search and find several more detailed accounts. I once started reading a book about it called The Reason Why but it was too depressing as it talked about incompetent noblemen being promoted above their abilities, and that sort of stuff, so I just stopped.

What this poem really reminds me of is Pickett's charge--especially as envisioned in reverse by Buford:

"Meade will come in slowly, cautiously, new to command... And then, after Lee's army is entrenched behind nice fat rocks, Meade will attack finally, if he can coordinate the army. He'll attack right up that rocky slope, and up that gorgeous field of fire. And we will charge valiantly, and be butchered valiantly. And afterwards men in tall hats and gold watch fobs will thump their chest and say what a brave charge it was. Devin, I've led a soldier's life, and I've never seen anything as brutally clear as this."
-Union Brig. Gen. John Buford from Gettysburg based on The Killer Angels

It's also the sort of thing that my poem Sing for the Hero is about.

War is tough. It's a bad thing to have whole generations of young men fighting and dying. Sometimes, a cause is worth fighting for -- defending life and liberty for example, or perhaps to put it better, "In memory of our God, our religion, and freedom, and our peace, our wives, and our children" (Alma 46:12) It is entirely appropriate to honor those who fight and die with courage and honor in such causes, but we need to be careful to honor the cause and the men, and not the act of fighting and dying. That's why the lines, "Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do and die" are so often quoted in irony. It's only when there is a just cause and a real purpose that war is honorable. These men were brave and loyal, but ultimately, their sacrifice was worthless, and that makes me sad.