Axis & Allies - damowords

Napoleonic Sunset
From thirsty throats shot a tremendous cheer
For France, the Emperor & Victory!
Faces contorted with pleasure & fear
Like some black Parisian tragedy;
Mountains of dead,
The screams, the smoke, the smell,
The dark, dantean red that paints this trophy hell.
Ney gallopʹd to his emperor,
Prussian shells fell on Rossome,
Face blackenʹd with face & powder,
ʺSire the time to push has come!ʺ
ʺFool! how can I manufacture
Men, where to pluck them from
Back to battle & do the best you can,
Spare not the efforts of a single man!ʺ
To secure Plancenoit he threw
The Young Guard from his hand,
Then rode back to the inn to view
The battleʹs prospect grand,
Sky painted black with evenfall, by smoke & ashes fannʹd.
La Belle Alliance
18:45
A Desperate Defence
Gazing on the gathering enemy
Calmly amidst the cannonball shower,
Duke calls his last Aide‐de‐Camp, DeLancey,
ʺHigh crisis is on us, whence breaks the hourʺ
ʺNigh on seven!ʺ
ʺBy my bones I hope the
Holy King of Heaven brings us Night or Blucher.ʺ
With an eye on his investment
Nathan Rothschilds quaffʹd back fear,
With a gruff, Germanic accent
Offerʹd services sincere,
With vital timely orders sent ‐
ʺWhat remains of us stands here!ʺ
The white cockade betrayʹd point of attack
Where black round ploughs into DeLanceyʹs back.
& as he screamʹd for god in vain
It seemʹd his wife did hear,
Sharing his pain her spirits wane,
The moment too severe,
& tho she clung to HOPE her grieving soul shed this first tear.
Brussels
19:00