The horse discord I am on has been thinking about this bit from The Horse in War by J. M. Brereton for some time and it has caused me to make art. ((I swapped in Kadir and the horse he had before Potato because 1918 hussar uniforms have thoroughly been relieved of their panache for obvious reasons))

> while writing this book I received a letter from an ex-troop sergeant of the 19th Hussars, describing an incident which might have served as a model for that picture. During a withdrawal under fire in May 1918,
> ... I was riding with the Squadron rearguard when one of the troop horses was badly hit by MG fire. Horse and rider crashed down in front of me. The horse lay on its side and the trooper, unhurt, had rolled clear. Kicking one foot out of the stirrup, I ordered the trooper to mount behind me. Instead, he crawled towards his horse which had raised its head and was looking at him. He reached the horse, gently lifted its head on to his knees, and stayed put. I again ordered him to mount, and drew my pistol, saying I would shoot the animal. He said nothing; just looked up at me, then down to the horse, and continued to stroke its head.
> From the look in the horse's eyes, I think it knew it was the end, and I also think it understood its master was trying to give it what comfort he could. I didn't shoot. Bullets were still smack- ing around and the squadron was almost out of sight. I said something to the effect 'Well, it's your funeral' and trotted on to rejoin my place. The trooper caught up with the squadron later: he had stayed with his horse till it died. By all the laws of averages, he should have stopped one too.