I Utter This Word With

I Utter This Word With Deepest Affection And From The Very Bottom Of My Heart.

Bacchus Has Drowned More Men Than Neptune.

I Offer Neither Pay, Nor Quarters, Nor Food; I Offer Only Hunger, Thirst, Forced Marches, Battles And Death. Let Him Who Loves His Country With His Heart, And Not Merely With His Lips, Follow Me.

Let Those Only Return To Their Homes Who Are Called By The Imperative Duties Which They Owe To Their Families, And Those Who By Their Glorious Wounds Have Deserved The Credit Of Their Country.

Yes, Young Men, Italy Owes To You An Undertaking Which Has Merited The Applause Of The Universe. You Have Conquered And You Will Conquer Still, Because You Are Prepared For The Tactics That Decide The Fate Of Battles.