They couldn't stand before us, comrades.

Corbleu! the white snow was red with blood that day! A squadron of cavalry, the Emperor's escort, struck them in the rear at the same time and between us we cut them to pieces.

They were heavy, those big Russians, to toss on the bayonet, but we did it." "Was that when the Emperor called us 'The Terrible Fifth' ?" queried a voice.
"That was the time." "Tell us more," came from the excited assemblage.
"They gave us the gold wreath, there in Paris, after Jena and Eylau and Friedland.

They loved the Eagle then, those Parisians," said Adjutant Suraif, taking up the tale.

"The women fell on our necks and kissed us when we came marching back.