They revert to the innocence of wild animals: we can imagine them returning from an orgy of murder, arson, rape, and torture, jubilant and at peace with themselves as though they had committed a fraternity prank — convinced, moreover, that the poets for a long time to come will have something to sing about and to praise.
The greatest happiness is to vanquish your enemies, to chase them before you, to rob them of their wealth, to see those dear to them bathed in tears, to clasp to your bosom their wives and daughters.
Entire, more than entire we have been devastated!
The maddened clarion, the bold invaders' horde
The mortar thunder-voiced, the blood-annointed sword
Have all men's sweat and work and store annihilated.
The towers stand in flames, the church is violated
The strong are massacred, a ruin our council board
Our maidens are raped, and where my eyes have scarce explored
Fire, pestilence and death my heart have dominated.
The maddened clarion, the bold invaders' horde
The mortar thunder-voiced, the blood-annointed sword
Have all men's sweat and work and store annihilated.
The towers stand in flames, the church is violated
The strong are massacred, a ruin our council board
Our maidens are raped, and where my eyes have scarce explored
Fire, pestilence and death my heart have dominated.
— Andreas Gryphius, "Tears of the Fatherland, Anno Domini 1636"
This little hamlet is too much "boring" and not enough "burning". Torch everything!
Amateurs kill, burn, rape and pillage. Professionals do the same but in reverse order
— Paul Balor, "Manual of Mercenary Soldier"
Hear their tortured screams
Shattering the air
They awake from soothing dreams
Into their worst nightmare
Fire sweeps their homes
They feel the dragon's breath
Consuming and destructive flames
Agonizing death
Some seek shelter in the church
A refuge for those with faith
But we know how to smoke them out
A pyre will be blazed
But those who choose to stand and fight
Will die with dignity
For the unfortunate few who survive
Waits a life in slavery
Shattering the air
They awake from soothing dreams
Into their worst nightmare
Fire sweeps their homes
They feel the dragon's breath
Consuming and destructive flames
Agonizing death
Some seek shelter in the church
A refuge for those with faith
But we know how to smoke them out
A pyre will be blazed
But those who choose to stand and fight
Will die with dignity
For the unfortunate few who survive
Waits a life in slavery
— Amon Amarth, "Gods of War Arise"
Farms, villages, castles, septs, barns, it made no matter. if it could burn, the Lannisters had burned it; if it could die, they’d killed it. They had even set the woods ablaze where they could, though the leaves were still green and wet from recent rains, and the fires had not spread. “They would have burned the lake if they could have,” Gendry had said, and Arya knew he was right.
...the Third Amendment, which forbids the quartering of troops in people’s homes in times of peace, or in times of war ‘but in a manner to be prescribed by law’—which necessarily implies just compensation; considering the nature of the 18th century practice, that pretty much precludes quartering of any kind under any circumstances.
If you’re the “beneficiary” of this kind of government attention, you can bet that your livestock will be slaughtered first, to feed the troops you’re quartering, or herded off to grace some officer’s estate, along with any rolling stock—wagons or carriages—you have. At the same time, your crops will be pulled from the ground—even if they’re not ready it will deny them to the enemy—and your orchards cut down for firewood.
Of course all of your furniture and personal property will meet similar fates, the smaller items—the gold locket with hand-cut silhouettes of your mother and father—vanishing into the voluminous bulk of the military uniforms of the time, the larger items hauled away to that officer’s estate, on your own wagons, pulled by the oxen you’ll never see again.
But that’s not the least of it. You can pretty much expect your daughters, your sisters, your aunts, your wife, and even your mother to be bringing more English babies into the world in a few months—that is if they aren’t simply beaten to death, or gutted from crotch to sternum by British bayonets, once they’ve been used by the officers and thrown to the troops afterward.
Remember, we’re not speaking of Nazis, here, or of Cossacks, or even of the Mongol Horde. We’re talking about the “kindest, gentlest” empire in the world. Does the Third Amendment seem so obsolete and insignificant now?
If you’re the “beneficiary” of this kind of government attention, you can bet that your livestock will be slaughtered first, to feed the troops you’re quartering, or herded off to grace some officer’s estate, along with any rolling stock—wagons or carriages—you have. At the same time, your crops will be pulled from the ground—even if they’re not ready it will deny them to the enemy—and your orchards cut down for firewood.
Of course all of your furniture and personal property will meet similar fates, the smaller items—the gold locket with hand-cut silhouettes of your mother and father—vanishing into the voluminous bulk of the military uniforms of the time, the larger items hauled away to that officer’s estate, on your own wagons, pulled by the oxen you’ll never see again.
But that’s not the least of it. You can pretty much expect your daughters, your sisters, your aunts, your wife, and even your mother to be bringing more English babies into the world in a few months—that is if they aren’t simply beaten to death, or gutted from crotch to sternum by British bayonets, once they’ve been used by the officers and thrown to the troops afterward.
Remember, we’re not speaking of Nazis, here, or of Cossacks, or even of the Mongol Horde. We’re talking about the “kindest, gentlest” empire in the world. Does the Third Amendment seem so obsolete and insignificant now?
— L. Neil Smith, Hope
The war and loot-crazed Crusaders were told that Constantinople was theirs and they had three days in which to complete the city's sack. They were the victors; there was no crime they could commit. They could do with the capital, its people and possessions whatever they wished. Can you imagine what such orders conveyed?
For nine hundred years, Constantinople had been the centre of Christian civilization, and now for three days it became the sinkhole of hell! The Venetians, who appreciated great works, carried off Grecian masterpieces and other works of art and beauty by the ton, and treasures in precious metals near enough to sink their ships. As for the French, the Flemings and various mercenary Crusaders, including me and mine: they desired only to destroy. And destroy we did! However precious, if something could not be carried or hauled away it was reduced to wreckage on the spot. We fuelled our madness from rich wine cellars, paused only to drink, rape or murder, then returned to the sack. Nothing, no one was spared. No virgin came out of it intact, and few came out alive. If a woman was too old to be stabbed with flesh she was stabbed with steel, and no female was too young. Convents were sacked and nuns used as whores – Christian nuns, mind!
—Faethor Ferenczy, Necroscope II: Wamphyri
"Those are your gates Stannis means to break down, and your city he means to sack. And if he gets in here, it will be your homes he destroys, your gold he steals, and your women he will rape."
— Tyrion Lannister, Game of Thrones
"They burned almost everything in the Riverlands. Our fields... our granaries... our homes! They took our women. Then they... took 'em again. When they was done them... butchered them as if they was animals. They covered... our children in pitch... and lit them on fire... The one who was leading them - taller by a foot than any man I’ve ever met. Saw him cut the blacksmith in two, saw him take the head off a horse with a single swing of his sword."
—Joss describing the actions of The Mountain and his men, A Golden Crown
You and your bandits raided my father's inn, slaughtered our guests, murdered my family, looted and set fire to Raven’s Eyrie. You gave my younger sisters to your men to rape until death was a mercy! I could hear their screams even as you had your way with me. I can still hear them.
— Ionor about Kane's raid on Raven's Eyrie.
Lt. Stobbs: Viktor Rosta. Full name, Viktor Sedgavich Rostavili. Born September 4, 1944. Georgia, Russia. His father had the distinction of being hanged by the U.S.S.R. for the crime of brigandage.... Brigandage?
Ivan Danko: Burning villages, raping women.
Lt. Stobbs: That sort of thing goes on in Russia, huh?
Ivan Danko: In past, during war. Not now.
— Red Heat
Olav: You should be proud of your wife, Orm! Frøya really threw herself into that raid one-hundred percent! And even took part in quite a lot of the raping!
Arvid: Yeah, I really wasn’t expecting that!
[Later]
[Later]
Orm: Frøya, is that a...cock necklace?
Frøya: Huh? Oh, uh, yes. It's the kind of souvenir you take, you know, when you go on a raid. If you'd ever been on a raid, you would understand.
— Norsemen
"Our invasion is all that is left...There will be no resistance! Attack, kill, plunder! Our motto is destroy and slaughter. After we completely destroy the nations's society...we can begin the world of our Black Cross Army."
—Black Cross Fuhrer, Anthem of the Black Cross Army, Himitsu Sentai Gorenger, "The Crimson Sun! The Invincible Gorengers"
Crush the village and plunder
Like many times before
Rape the women and slaughter all the children
Like many times before
Rape the women and slaughter all the children
— Cannibal Corpse, "Remaimed"
What a city to sack!
— Generalfeldmarschall Gebhard Leberecht von Blücher, viewing London for the first time during his state visit to England after the Battle of Waterloo.
