Agincourt, JFK, Abbottabad

The late Mr. Ted Sorensen, appointed Special Counsel by a newly elected
President Kennedy, tells in his book, titled simply, 'Kennedy', of how one of
the President's favorite pieces of literature was the St. Crispin's Day speech at
Agincourt, France, made by King Henry V in the Shakespearean play of the same name.
He didn't say in the book just what so impressed President Kennedy about t
soliloquy; but he did indicate it had something to do with the pride of working
together with persons of like minds.
As President Obama spoke to the 101st Airborne, and met with the elite team who had
to fly undercover so quickly into Pakistan this week, I kept recalling the photo
of the President with the Situation Room team. Henry V came to mind.
I don't religiously follow Shakespeare's line length's here; but this speech feels
so right to recall at this time.
Henry begins just as Westmoreland, one of the Earl's preparing for the coming battle
with the French, has wished ten thnousand of the men off work in England that day were there to help in the fight. Henry then replies:
What's he that wishes so?
My cousin Westmoreland?-No my fair cousin:
If we are mark'd to die, we are enow to do our country loss;
and if to live,
The fewer men the greater share of honour.
God's will! I pray thee wish not one man more.
By Jove, I am not covetous for gold;
Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;
It yearns me not if men my garments wear;
Such outward things dwell not in my desires:
But if it be a sin to covet honour,
I am the most offending soul alive.
No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England:
God's peace! I would not lose so great an honour, as one man more,
methinks,
would share from me,
For the best hope I have.
O do not wish one more!
Rather proclaim it, Westmoreland ,through my host,
That he which hath no stomach to this fight,
Let him depart; his passport shall be made,
And crowns for convoy put into his purse:
We would not die in that man's company
That fears his fellowshio to die with us.
This day is called the feast of Crispian:
He that outlives this day and comes safe home,
Will stand a tip-toe when this day is nam'd,
And rouse him at the name of Crispian.
He that shall live this day, and see old age,
Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours,
And say, Tomorrow is St. Crispian;
Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars,
And say, These wounds I had on Crispian's day.
Old men forget;
yet all shall be forgot,
But he'll remember with advantages
What feats he did that day: then shall our names,
Familiar in their mouths as household words,-
Harry the king, Bedford and Exeter,
Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloster,-
Be in their flowing cups freshly remember'd,-
This story shall the good man teach his son;
And Crispin Crispian shall ne'er go by,
From this day to the endling of the world,
But we in it shall be remembered,-
We few, we happy few, we band of brothers;
For he to-day that sheds his blood with me
Shall be my brother; be he ne'er so vile,
This day shall gentle his condition:
And gentlemen in England now a-bed
Shall think themselves accurs'd they were not here,
And hold their manhoods cheap while any
speaks
That fought with us upon Saint Crispin's Day.
*******

----And just then, word came in the French had begun a charge...