A detachment of British soldiers was about to attack a band of rebel Indian tribesmen, who awaited them drawn up in battle order. A seasoned old sergeant noticed a young soldier, fresh from home, visibly affected by the nearness of the coming fight. His face was pale, his teeth chattered, and his knees tried hard to knock each other out. It was sheer nervousness, but the sergeant thought it was downright funk. "Callaghan," he whispered, "is it trimblin' ye are for yer own dirty skin ?" "N-no, sergint," replied Callaghan, making a brave attempt to still his shaking limbs, "Oi'm trimblin' for the inimy. They don't know Callaghan's here." Men who mean no harm are not necessarily harmless.
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Bibliographic details
Cromwell Argus, Volume XLIII, Issue 2287, 4 March 1912, Page 7
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117Untitled Cromwell Argus, Volume XLIII, Issue 2287, 4 March 1912, Page 7
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