This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by,
From this day to the ending of the world,
But we in it shall be remember’d;
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.
We won. Again. No prisoners were killed in the making of this re-enactment.
“No prisoners were killed in the making of this re-enactment.”
Why ever not, old chap?
Nowhere suitable to bury the bodies.
Weren’t you even tempted to make it more realistic by demanding large ransoms for captured froggies?