I Am Ill Every Time It Blows

Treat Every Frenchman As If He Was The Devil Himself.

Close With A Frenchman, But Out-maneuver A Russian.

Now I Can Do No More. We Must Trust To The Great Disposer Of All Events And The Justice Of Our Cause. I Thank God For This Opportunity Of Doing My Duty.

Laurels Grow In The Bay Of Biscay, I Hope A Bed Of Them May Be Found In The Mediterranean.

No Captain Can Do Very Wrong If He Places His Ship Alongside That Of The Enemy.