Zulu messenger:
I bring greetings from your friends the British and from the great Lord Chelmsford.

Ceteseyo:
And what do your masters say?

Zulu messenger:
They are angry and send these demands. They say that you rule in old ways that are wrong; that you kill your people without trial. The Great White Queen herself cannot kill her lowliest subject, though she rules forty lands, each greater than all of Zululand.

Corporal Storey:
All this way to be shot by a bloody bullet from Birmingham.

Lt. Raw:
Then a bottle of good claret for each man in the mess will be charged to your account.

Lt. Coghill:
If that is too expensive, then you can always send the bill to your father in the House of Lords. No offense, Vereker.

Lt. William Vereker:
None taken, Coghill.

Lt. William Vereker:
Hello, Frederick.

General Lord Chelmsford:
Hello, William. I saw your father before I left England. He told me you had taken to farming near Zululand.

Lt. William Vereker:
Yes. It was either come here or join the Zulu.

Lt. Coghill:
Vereker, you didn't really have to choose between your own country and the Zulu, did you?

Lt. William Vereker:
Yes, and a damn close thing it was too.

Lt. Col. Pulleine:
Lord Chelmsford assures us that there is no way the Zulu can get around us without our knowing.

Col. Durnford:
Zulu generals have a nasty habit of doing the unexpected. It might be wise to picket the hills.

Norris-New:
Crealock, old fellow... had it drummed into my thick head that no commander should ever split his forces before he knows the position of the enemy.

Col. Crealock:
Yes, Nogs. If we were facing a European enemy your point would hold. I might also remind you that I am only His Lordship's secretary and do not make the strategy on which you comment.

Norris-Newman:
Yes, you may only be his secretary, Crealock, but if he falls; you fall with him.

Col. Durnford:
Sergeant Major! Take my horse. Ride to Natal. Tell the Bishop; that is, tell his daughter, that I was obliged to remain at Isandlawahna with the infantry. Go with God.

Sgt. Maj. Kambula:
I go because you order me; but I leave God here to help you.

Norris-Newman:
This one's a grandfather at least. If he were a Zulu warrior in his prime I would have given odds on your lancer, Melville.

Boy Pullen:
You afeared of the Zulus then, Quartermaster?

QSM Bloomfield:
One Zulu is only one man... and I'm afeared of no one man... but the Zulu, they come in the thousands... like a black wave of death... in the thousands... and them assegais... stabbing!

Corporal Storey:
To the soldier next to him, referring to the ammunition: Soft 'eaded buggers these. Flatten out against the bone. Smash 'em out.