Jallalabad

We jail-birds stick together, and he was obviously a man of power and influence - why, he was probably on dining-out terms with half the badmashes* (* Ruffians.) and cattle-thieves between here and Jallalabad, and if necessary he'd give me an escort; we could travel as horse-copers, or something, for with my Persian and Pushtu I'd have no difficulty passing as an Afghan.

The Sky Writer Geoff Barbanell 2010

I hadn't seen old Blood-and-Bones since he'd stood grumping beside my bed at Jallalabad fifteen years before, and time hadn't improved him; he still looked like Abe Lincoln dying of diarrhoea, with his mournful whiskers and bloodhound eyes.

Fiancée 2010

"Per-chance you owe money to someone in Jallalabad?"

The Sky Writer Geoff Barbanell 2010

Afghanistan here meant the "Kabul Kingdom (including provinces/districts of Jallalabad, Kandahar, Herat, Pusht-i Rud) and Afghan Turkistan."

Connecting Histories in Afghanistan: Market Relations and State Formation on a Colonial Frontier 2008

As so often in the past, I was the victim of my own glorious and entirely unearned reputation - Flashy, the hero of Jallalabad, the last man out of the Kabul retreat and the first man into the Balaclava battery, the beau sabreur of the Light Cavalry, Queen's Medal, Thanks of Parliament, darling of the mob, with a liver as yellow as yesterday's custard, if they'd only known it.

Fiancée 2010

I didn't want to linger in Kabul any longer, and to the astonishment of my escort I insisted that we journey on to Peshawar by the north bank of the Kabul River although, as the leader pointed out, there was a fine road by way of Boothak and Jallalabad to the south.

The Sky Writer Geoff Barbanell 2010

I've had some strange testimonials in my time, including the Victoria Cross, a pardon from Abraham Lincoln, Sale's ludicrous report from Jallalabad, Wellington's handshake, the thanks of Parliament, a pat on the back from Rajah Brooke, and ecstatic sobs from all sorts of women-but I'm rather partial to the memory of Kit Carson telling me what a white man I was.

Isabelle Estelle Bruno 2010

He'd been such a hearty, kind old soul — I could see him mopping the noble tears from his red cheeks at my bedside in Jallalabad, or grinning from his table-head at Florentia's wilder flights, or thumping his knee: "There'll be no retreat from Lahore, what?"

Flashman and the Mountain of Light Fraser, George MacDonald, 1925- 1990

Jallalabad all over again, thinks I contentedly, and while he strode out shouting that a galloper must ride directly to Littler, who was out on a reconnoitre, I heaved up for a dekko in the mirror over his washstand.

Flashman and the Mountain of Light Fraser, George MacDonald, 1925- 1990

I was one of the few survivors, and by glorious misunderstanding was hailed as the hero of the hour: it was mistakenly believed that I'd fought the bloodiest lastditch action since Hastings — when in fact I'd been blubbering under a blanket — and when I came to in dock at Jallalabad, who should be at my bedside, misty with admiration, but the garrison commander, Fighting Bob Sale.

Flashman and the Mountain of Light Fraser, George MacDonald, 1925- 1990