Noblesse oblige...

[Capitaine Vengeur]

This is Rorke's Drift, 1879, as a handful of fortified British soldiers fights hard to repel mighty waves of formidable Zulu warriors. Standing in the middle of the position in a very martial attitude, the British commander audibly ask to his subordinates:

 

- Aoh! Please bring me my red skirt!

 

- What for, Sir?

 

And the commander nobly replies:

 

- For if I were wounded, I don't want my boys to notice it and panic!

 

Moments later, the Zulu warriors are about to make a breakthrough in the British defenses, and the commander can see raising assegais and blood-thirsty dark faces, all of them angrily pointing at him. Then he moans much less audibly and nobly:

 

-Aoouuugh... Please bring me my brown breeches...