En Garde!

As every tourist knows, London's horse guards take the vow of silence on duty. As they sit majestically astride their mounts in Whitehall, children may taunt them, cameramen may pop flashbulbs in their faces, and tourist guides may speak about the guardsmen as if they were not really there. The guardsman is under orders never to move a muscle except to control his horse, never to speak except to summon a policeman or foot sentry "if something happens." For almost 300 years it has been that way.

One afternoon last week Guide John Thompson Reeves went into his usual spiel to 34 Americans about the pair of mounted Life Guards in scarlet tunic, white knee breeches and shining armor: "If a wasp crawled up the nostril of one of the guardsmen he would not permit himself to move his hand." Pointing to Trooper John Tedbury, Guide Reeves said that his ebony boots are patent leather and his breastplate stainless steel and untarnishable, so that the guards never have to do any polishing.

Something snapped inside Trooper Tedbury. He flashed his unsheathed sword down from the vertical "Carry Sword" position, pointed it straight at Guide Reeves's throat and shouted over his chin strap: "You are a liar. Move on!" The 34 Americans retreated in disorder, and Guide Reeves found himself speechless.

Summoned before his commanding officer, Lieut. Colonel the Marquess Douro, a descendant of the Duke of Wellington, Tedbury said, "I did it for the honor of the regiment." Owing to "extenuating circumstances," ruled the War Office, his disobedience would not be punished.

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.