Henry:
This day is called the Feast of Crispian:
He that shall see this day, and live old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, "Tomorrow is Saint Crispian."
Then will he strip his sleeve, and show his scars,
And say, "These wounds I had on Crispin's Day."
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 remembered --
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he today that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother, be he never so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition;
And the gentlemen, now abed
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.
(iv.3.40-67)
-- Henry V
William Shakespeare
I wonder what it's like standing on a medieval battlefield, shoulder to shoulder with fellow soldiers, the pounding heart and rushing adrenaline drowning out all fear and doubt.
Your leader majestically marches along the line. His words echo ever more distant as the thirst for battle envelops the hearts of troops.
Fight for what you hold most dear. Sun rises in the east and a better day is about to come.