Lord Raglan: It will be a sad day for England when her armies are officered by men who know too well what they are doing- it smacks of murder.
Lord Cardigan: Paymaster? Paymaster Duberley? That ain't a rank, it's a trade!
Mogg: (when a young officer faints at the sight of a man being flogged): Always one of your younger type of hofficer fetches up or flops over. They fades away like Lily at bedtime.
Mogg: [observing a flogging] They won't fight unless they're flogged to it. Would you 'ave them fight for money - or ideas? That would be hun-Christian.
Lord Cardigan: [during the Battle of the Alma] Lucan, you're a stewstick.
Lord Lucan aka George Charles Bingham: Fetch off!
Lord Cardigan: Poltroon.
Lord Lucan aka George Charles Bingham: Bum-roll!
Lord Cardigan: Why don't you draw your horse from round your ears? Bring your head out of his arse.
Lord Cardigan: [returning from the charge] Has anybody seen my regiment?
Lord Cardigan: I shall have you arrested. You *are* arrested. Go to your quarters, sir, and be arrested!
Lord Cardigan: [about to jump on Mrs Duberly] It is by no means a bad thing when getting onto a strange horse for the first time to give the middle of the saddle three or four bangs with the flat of your hand!
Capt. Louis Edward Nolan: One day there will be an army where troopers will not be force to fight by floggings and hard reins. An army, a Christian army that fights because it is paid well to fight. And fights well because its women and children are well cared for. An army that is efficient and of a professional feather. I must fight for such an army... That army will bring the first of the modern wars, and the last of the gallop.
Lord Cardigan: [of his soldiers] If they can't fornicate they can't fight, and if they don't fight hard I'll flog their backs raw.
Capt. Louis Edward Nolan: There is no place happier than a cavalry mess, if one is a stupid, inconsiderate and lazy man one can fit as a round peg into a snug round hole. At times I'm so pent-up with their languor I could scrap hold of any two of them and bang their noddles together till their doodles drop off.
Lord Raglan: Young ladies should concern themselves with what is pretty. England is pretty... babies are pretty... some table linen can be very pretty...
Lord Cardigan: [looking at a row of tents] If that line's straight, I'm a Turk's arse.
Lord Cardigan: You were born dishonoured and a lie, and you will die in lies!
Lord Cardigan: Well, here goes the last of the Brudenells. The Brigade will advance ! Trumpeter, walk march !
Maj. Gen. Sir John Campbell: [to the Highland Cavalry] Whoever is wounded, lie where he is until a bandsman comes to him. No soldier may go off carrying wounded men. If any man does such a thing, his name shall be stuck up in his parish church. Come! Advance!
Dying Highlander: [to Captain Nolan] Peacock Bastard! Where were you and Lord Lucan?
Lt. Gen. Sir George Brown: Watch your places and your dressing and slash into them! Take 'em at the drum and what, lads! View halloo! View halloo! View halloo!
Lord Raglan: Is that Sir George Brown down there? Captain, my compliments to Sir George and will he stop those confounded 'View Halloo's?" My horse expects to put up a fox at any moment.