Posted by Ed Wright on March 22, 2009:

Although Warren and I were brother "Redlegs" we never served together. We got to know each other as Cows, he in D-2, I in A-4, only two company areas away in the old two regiment Corps. "The Bear" played 150 lb. football, wrestled and was in the Judo Club for four years and was at best ... affable. Actually, I never saw him otherwise. Fortunately! Sometimes I wondered what he thought about our future after being cadets. He never really said, nor did he elaborate on his dedicated attention to the Russian and Chess Clubs all of his last three years as a cadet. He also had a penchant for climbing very high hills to see farther. He once hauled me up, and down, Half Dome in California's Yosemite Park on the edge of the Sierra's because he was curious how far he could see up the valley behind it. There are words for men like Warren: steadfast, Stonewall (as in Jackson), Rock (of the Marne), competent, far-seeing, survivor. When it's going to get bad, you want them with you. For that reason, and I hope he will forgive me that what follows was written by an Englishman about Englishmen, I dedicate this famed poem to Warren: The Charge Of The Light Brigade by Alfred, Lord Tennyson Memorializing Events in the Battle of Balaclava, October 25, 1854 Written 1854 Half a league half a league, Half a league onward, All in the valley of Death Rode the six hundred: 'Forward, the Light Brigade! Charge for the guns' he said: Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. 'Forward, the Light Brigade!' Was there a man dismay'd? Not tho' the soldier knew Some one had blunder'd: Theirs not to make reply, Theirs not to reason why, Theirs but to do & die, Into the valley of Death Rode the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon in front of them Volley'd & thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, Boldly they rode and well, Into the jaws of Death, Into the mouth of Hell Rode the six hundred. Flash'd all their sabres bare, Flash'd as they turn'd in air Sabring the gunners there, Charging an army while All the world wonder'd: Plunged in the battery-smoke Right thro' the line they broke; Cossack & Russian Reel'd from the sabre-stroke, Shatter'd & sunder'd. Then they rode back, but not Not the six hundred. Cannon to right of them, Cannon to left of them, Cannon behind them Volley'd and thunder'd; Storm'd at with shot and shell, While horse & hero fell, They that had fought so well Came thro' the jaws of Death, Back from the mouth of Hell, All that was left of them, Left of six hundred. When can their glory fade? O the wild charge they made! All the world wonder'd. Honour the charge they made! Honour the Light Brigade, Noble six hundred!

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