Veterans Day Tribute

An Homage to the Charge of the Light Brigade

An oil painting-style depiction of the Charge of the Light Brigade, capturing the chaos and valor of the historic cavalry charge. Rows of British soldiers in red uniforms and gold helmets ride determinedly into battle on powerful horses, their sabers raised and cannons firing amidst smoke and dust. The Union Jack waves proudly in the background, a symbol of their loyalty and sacrifice. The scene is fraught with action, with soldiers on foot and fallen comrades lying among shattered cannons in the foreground. This dramatic artwork, inspired by Tennyson’s poem and the historical event, vividly portrays the courage and tragedy of the noble six hundred.

The Charge of the Light Brigade

By Alfred Lord Tennyson

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 dismayed?
Not though the soldier knew
Someone had blundered:

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
Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,
Boldly they rode and well,
Into the jaws of Death,
Into the mouth of Hell
Rode the six hundred.

Flashed all their sabres bare,
Flashed as they turned in air,
Sabring the gunners there,
Charging an army, while
All the world wondered:

Plunged in the battery-smoke
Right through the line they broke;
Cossack and Russian
Reeled from the sabre-stroke
Shattered and sundered.

Then they rode back, but not
Not the six hundred.

Cannon to right of them,
Cannon to left of them,
Cannon behind them
Volleyed and thundered;

Stormed at with shot and shell,
While horse and hero fell,
They that had fought so well
Came through 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.
Honour the charge they made!
Honour the Light Brigade,
Noble six hundred!

A realistic, painterly depiction of the surviving members of the Light Brigade gathered outside a grand but weathered building, inspired by Kipling's poem 'The Last of the Light Brigade.' The soldiers, now aged and worn, stand solemnly in tattered uniforms, some adorned with medals that reflect their past bravery. Their faces are etched with hardship and dignity, capturing the aftermath of their historic charge. The backdrop of the stately yet decayed building underscores their struggle and neglect, emphasizing the poignant contrast between their heroism and their circumstances. This artwork honors their legacy while reflecting the somber tone of Kipling's poetic narrative.

The Last of the Light Brigade

By Rudyard Kipling

There were thirty million English who talked of England's might,
There were twenty broken troopers who lacked a bed for the night.
They had neither food nor money, they had neither service nor trade;
They were only shiftless soldiers, the last of the Light Brigade.

They felt that life was fleeting; they knew not what to do,
Till they thought of the Master-singer who had sung the song of the true;
They felt that he would listen to the story of their shame,
And sent a message to him, and the answer came.

It was not with weeping nor yet with laughter,
But with the stern, set faces that had done with the worst of life,
They spoke of a time forgotten, a past so far away,
And a song in the hearts of England on a cold November day.

"We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,
We only ask for a little help for the sake of England's youth.
For the workhouse is our haven and the grave our final goal.
You have sung the song of the Light Brigade, won't you help the rest of the roll?"

So they wrote it then and later, and it echoes through the years
As a cry to broken England from the mouths of her broken peers;
And the English turn and listen in their blindness and their pride,
For it stirs the hearts of millions by the light of the poets' side.

O thirty million English that babble of England's might,
Behold there the twenty heroes who lacked a bed for the night!
They were only shiftless soldiers of the last of the Light Brigade.
If you have ever sung for England, for England's sake — be not afraid.