The King's Division is a British Army command, training and administrative apparatus designated for infantry regiments in the North of England. The King's Division was formed in 1968 with the union of the Lancastrian Brigade, Yorkshire Brigade and North Irish Brigade. As of 2007, the King's Division comprises seven infantry battalions:
- Regular Army Units
- 1st & 2nd Battalions, The Duke of Lancaster's Regiment (King's Lancashire and Border)
- 1st, 2nd & 3rd Battalions, The Yorkshire Regiment (14th/15th, 19th and 33rd/76th Foot)
- Territorial Army Units
- 4th Battalion, The Duke of Lancaster's Regiment (King's Lancashire and Border)
- 4th Battalion, The Yorkshire Regiment (14th/15th, 19th and 33rd/76th Foot)
In addition, the King's Division also maintains a single regular army band titled the Band of the King's Division. The Band was formed through the amalgamation of two former divisional bands, the Normandy Band and the Waterloo Band. In 2008, a new Territorial Army Band was formed entitled, The Band of The Yorkshire Regiment a part of the 4th Battalion The Yorkshire Regiment.
Read more about King's Division: Past Units, Fictional
Famous quotes containing the words king and/or division:
“The king said, -Divide the living boy in two; then give half to the one, and half to the other. But the woman whose son was alive said to the king -because compassion for her son burned within her - -Please, my lord, give her the living boy; certainly do not kill him! The other said, -It shall be neither mine nor yours; divide it. Then the king responded: -Give the first woman the living boy; do not kill him. She is his mother.”
—Bible: Hebrew, 1 Kings. 3:25-37.
Solomon resolves a dispute between two women over a child. Solomon’s wisdom was proven by this story.
“Slow, slow, fresh fount, keep time with my salt tears;
Yet slower yet, oh faintly gentle springs:
List to the heavy part the music bears,
“Woe weeps out her division when she sings.”
Droop herbs and flowers;
Fall grief in showers;
“Our beauties are not ours”:
Oh, I could still,
Like melting snow upon some craggy hill,
Drop, drop, drop, drop,
Since nature’s pride is, now, a withered daffodil.”
—Ben Jonson (1572–1637)