"There are old soldiers and there are bold soldiers, but there are very few old, bold soldiers."
Any of you sons a bitches calls me grandpa... I'll kill ya. "...how did Lord Thyngrim win the day?" asked the Warlord with some impatience. The Orks were getting closer. The Ancestor shook as he chuckled. "I cannot tell you how to win as he did, but if you don't mind uncomfortable truths, I can tell you how to avoid losing as he did."
"Now, what you're to do with your submachinegun? Here's no less than 200 meters to the adversary. Only ignorames and cowards fire SMG at such a range
, and I with my rifle*
is going to pick off that officer now."—Before i properly inspected the figure he pointed at, it fell.
"And now this one... and this one... and also this one..." With each shot someone was dropped. While inserting a new clip, he told me as a greatest secret: "I'll not make it to the end of this magazine before the part of the line which i shoot at will lie on the ground. Sparse rifle fire without misses evokes panical fear." And really, the second clip dropped significant part of the line. Officers ran along it, shouted, raised men, but the third clip came into play and now those officers began to fall. Entire part of the line in the field of fire of Kozhevnikov's rifle squeezed into the ground.
"How many widows and orphans, Timofey Ivanovich, you made today"—I uttered musingly.
"Why, none at all."
"Well, I don't kill them. I only hole. In a leg, arm, shoulder. Why would I need to kill them? I need only that they won't come to me, and won't kill me. As to them, they may live. Bullet is a tender, clean thing. So the wounds aren't bad—quickly heals and leaves no consequences—unlike ones from a crude and dirty shrapnel*
— Pyotr Grigorenko's memoir, In the underground you can meet only rats
I became a soldier in the consulship. In the army which was taken over to Macedonia, I served two years in the ranks against King Phillip; in the third year because of my bravery a post as centurion in the tenth maniple of the hastati. After Philip's defeat, when we had been brought back to Italy and released, I immediately set out for Spain as a volunteer with the consul M Porcius. This commander judged me worthy to be assigned as centurion of the first century of the hastati. For the third time I enlisted again as a volunteer in that army which was set against the Aetolians and King Antiochus. By Manicus Acilius I was made first century of the princepes. When Antiochus had been driven out and the Aetolians subdued, we were brought back to Italy. And twice after that I served in campaigns where the legions were in commission for a year. Then I campaigned twice in Spain...I was brought home by Flaccus along with the others whom he brought with him to take part in the Triumph because of their bravery. For times within a few years I held the rank of Primus Pilus, Four and thirty times I was rewarded for bravery by my commanders. I have recieved six civic crowns. I have served out twenty-two years in the army and am more than fifty years old.
— Service record of Centurion
Spurius Ligustinus, as recorded by Livy
"His augments are not what makes Jacob dangerous. He has eighty years experience in combat, including operational knowledge of every military on earth. He's too much tactician for you." Old soldiers never die...And they don't fade away. "I will not withdraw so long as those banners still wave in the wind. I am seventy-one. How is it possible for a man of my age to die more gloriously than in the midst of my friends and brothers, in the service of God?"
— Jean Parisot de La Valette
Beware of an old man in a profession where men usually die young.
"So I gotta catch my breath; I'd like to see you try this shit at age 53!"