[PLANE ENGINE ROARING]
Mr. Moran, we going to be on time in Benghazi?
I don't see why not, Gabriele.
I'll ask Captain Towns to make a special point of it.
TOWNS: 1350. Radio out of service. Voltage regulators inoperative.
Holding course for Benghazi.
Thanks, Mike. I'll let you have them back.
- How's it going up there? - Lousy.
Never taken off in one of Arabco's old tubs without something being wrong.
This time we've got faulty regulators and a duff radio.
Don't let that hold you up. I've got two months' leave coming.
It's not the company's time we're flying on.
Radios are no good anyway. I got a radio.
Record players are nice, though. Reliable.
Thank you, doctor.
- Cigarette? - No, thank you.
It's good of you to give the Army a lift.
Not at all.
That's not much good, is it, sergeant? Stow it away with the cargo.
The number four control pulley on the starboard side seems a bit noisy.
Perhaps binding a bit. I couldn't see properly.
I don't feel it up here.
I'd better have a look.
Hand me the flashlight.
- Ready for another flying lesson? - Haven't recovered from the last one.
Oh, now, I got her all trimmed up for you.
Just hold her straight.
Straight and level, 20 degrees. Here, I'll take that.
Straight. Now, don't over-control it. Don't sway it.
Thank you very much.
Don't leave me holding this thing forever, will you?
BILL: Hi, skipper.
How are you?
Hey, Mr. Bill. Here, try this.
It's real good for you. One drink, the girl comes out of the picture and bites you.
BILL: Hey, skipper, you want some ouzo?
- Make you fly real good. - No thanks, son. I'm driving.
I reckon I deserve this. Listening to that wog music has given me a headache.
[HUMS]
TOWNS: The pulley's all right. Squeaking a little, that's all.
- How are you getting along? - Magnificently.
But I think someone up there knows that I'm flying this thing.
That's quite a sandstorm he's sending our way.
Yep, I've seen it.
So much for your weather report.
Let's have a look at that chart.
- If it closes in on us... - This old bird will need a coat of paint.
- What alternate did you nominate? - El Aouzzad.
Three mud huts and a poison well. That's not a place, that's a disease.
Oh, now, Lew, don't worry. We're not about to start turning to alternates yet.
We're bigger than a little local sandstorm.
MORAN: Old Auntie at traffic management's gonna have kittens.
A pilot is supposed to use his own judgment, don't you think?
Gee, if it weren't for that...
I don't know, Lew, I suppose pilots are just as good now as they ever were...
...but they sure don't live the way we did.
Well, I can tell you that there were times...
...when you took real pride in just getting there.
Flying used to be fun. It really did, Lew.
It used to be fun.
- You don't think perhaps we should...? - Head for the alternate?
You better take a look out the window. We're being followed.
There goes our alternate.
That stuff up ahead looks like it's rising.
I think we'd better find out just how high it does go.
I must say, without the radio, I would have expected them...
...to turn for the alternate airport by now.
Wouldn't you?
I don't know you, do I, boy? Are you from the oil field?
My brother is there. Dorfmann. I went to visit him on my holiday.
- You went to visit your brother in Jebel? - Yes.
He's chief analytical geophysicist for the Arabco Oil Company.
That pilot...
I would have thought he was a little elderly to be flying without a co-pilot.
Wouldn't you?
That sand's a bastard, you know that?
A real bastard.
Hey, Standish. Not while the train's in the station.
It's not gonna let up, Frank.
[ENGINE SPUTTERING]
There she goes.
Are we gonna put her down?
That right engine didn't make it, the other one probably won't either.
We're gonna have to put her down before this one quits.
Can you get any lift out of her at all?
Well, maybe enough to hop over a few sand dunes.
I'm gonna have to make it on the first try.
We going in with our wheels down?!
I'd give anything not to, but we'll never get up again if I don't.
No, I suppose not.
STANDISH: What's happening? What is it?
CROW: The lights are shorting out. BELLAMY: It's gonna start a fire.
[ENGINE SPUTTERING]
TASSO: The cargo!
BILL: It's breaking apart!
[YELLING]
TOWNS: Lew?
Come on, come on. Get a flashlight.
CROW: Let me out of here. Come on, run. Run!
BELLAMY: It's gonna blow!
BELLAMY: Get away from the plane!
[SPEAKING IN SPANISH]
Maria.
Maria!
Harris, keep those guys together. She won't burn now.
Get them under the wing before we lose somebody.
Lew, see if you can get the emergency lighting...
There are three trapped at the back. Three trapped in the back!
Dr. Renaud!
Come on. Come on!
MORAN: Careful. TOWNS: All together now. Easy.
MORAN: Here it comes.
RENAUD: The leg is entirely crushed. See if you can find my bag.
- What about the other two back here? - They've had it.
TOWNS: They've what?
MORAN: Frank.
BELLAMY: Skipper!
What are we gonna do now?
Do you want to say something?
Like what? "Sorry"?
There. Make it secure, will you?
Captain, don't you think it's time we started getting things organized?
Yes, you're right.
I'll get Sergeant Watson to make up some containers for flares.
- We'll need some of your fuel. - Leave that to Moran.
Maybe you'd better check on our water supply and figure up some rationing.
[HAMMERING]
How much longer do you estimate we'll have to be here?
I mean, I take it there will be an air search before long.
Yes, well, we're not due in Benghazi till... Well, now.
He's a right little organizer, your captain.
Yeah, they're all the same. Toffee-nosed bunch of gits.
You shouldn't have joined, should you?
I never did. I was what they call a boy soldier. Me dad joined me.
- Did he? - Attendant at the public baths, he was.
November 21 st, 1934.
Me mum made me a sponge cake for me birthday tea.
Next morning the old man walked me down our street right into the barracks.
"You'll be all right," he said. "You'll like it. I know you will."
1934? You didn't have to join for bleeding life, did you?
I don't know.
One thing leads to another, doesn't it?
CROW: Hey, Fritz!
Give us the loan of your book when you're finished.
I don't think you'll find it interesting.
Oh, incidentally...
...my name is Dorfmann, Heinrich Dorfmann.
Go on. Is it really?
Yes.
Hey, sergeant. His name's Dorfmann, Heinrich Dorfmann.
COBB: What's the matter, doc? - Nothing, Mr. Cobb. Nothing.
- How are you feeling today? - All right.
What do you care? Anyway, why ask me?
You got it written down in that little black book.
No, no. I have nothing written down, Mr. Cobb. Nothing.
Yeah?
- Then why don't you show it to me? - Any time you wish.
Right now, though, I have to have a look at Gabriele.
What a crummy quack. They're all alike.
TOWNS: 1600 hours, March 17th.
What... What about my wife, doctor?
No, don't think about it now. She'll be all right. She'll be fine.
Do you have any kind of liquor onboard?
Well, there's still some morphine left. Wouldn't that be better?
RENAUD: I would like to save it for when the pain gets worse.
GABRIELE: Doctor.
TOWNS: Cause of crash: Pilot error.
All right if we issue the water ration now?
TOWNS: Sure, go ahead.
- Work something out? - Yes, I think so.
Could I have your attention, please?
We have something important to say concerning our water supply.
Now, there is just under a full measure for each of us here.
Dr. Renaud informs me that we shall require, as an absolute minimum...
...one pint of water per person per day. Is that right?
Yes, that's right.
Now, on the basis of the 15 gallons in the emergency tank...
...that gives us roughly 10 to 11 days.
That is, of course, if we just sit here and don't exert ourselves in any way.
Hey, Lightning, do you hear that? You're not to wear yourself out.
As we are somewhat off our original course, unless we are certain...
...of being picked up, we ought to make do with the absolute minimum.
- Is that understood? CROW: Hear, hear.
- Hear, hear. COBB: Yeah.
- All right, Mr. Towns? - Sounds reasonable.
If we have enough water for all that time...
...couldn't we set aside a little bit for washing?
- Washing? BELLAMY: What a dumb thing.
Hey, captain. What are we supposed to do for grub?
I reckon we ought to eat the monkey.
As far as food is concerned, we seem to be singularly fortunate.
There happens to be an almost unlimited supply of pressed dates on board.
CARLOS: Pressed dates? CROW: All they're good for is regularity.
Yes, I quite agree.
They were being sent back from Jebel because nobody would eat them.
Yes, I think that's about all.
CROW: That's about all? That's enough, isn't it?
Thank you.
Excuse me, but shouldn't some kind of rescue plane have seen us by now?
Don't worry. Someone will be along even before you can think about lunch.
Our accounts people will be waiting for my Jebel operation report...
...before they can get started on the annual figures.
How big a hole will a busted-up sky truck make in your annual figures?
There will be insurance, but insurance companies move in mysterious ways.
Like God, of course, but not half as generous.
- It's bound to be a setback. - I imagine it will be.
Anyway, you don't have to worry. They'll be here.
Oh, thank you.
It will work very well.
STANDISH: The captain says our chances are good.
- A bit optimistic, aren't you? - I don't think so.
Well, being 130 miles off-course isn't exactly going to help.
It's not gonna stop them either.
[MUSIC PLAYS ON RADIO]
CROW: Music while you work?
It's mine. I bought it.
We could use this thing to find out what's happening.
Nobody told...
He did say something about it, Frank. It's my fault. I should have...
COBB: It's mine.
What's the matter with this thing?
CROW: Look at Heinrich, will you?
Hey, shut that damn thing off!
What are you trying to prove?
I'm trying to remain reasonably clean.
You think this is some kind of a picnic?
[MAN ON RADIO SPEAKING IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE]
That's just a local station relaying a political broadcast.
I don't think you'll find any stations we'd want until nightfall.
Doctor, what was that chap talking about, anyway?
Water conservation and a five-year plan for irrigation.
A fat lot of use that is.
What this country needs is a few more pubs.
Fold it up. Get this stuff furled.
Tie it on so it won't blow away.
HARRIS: Get that line.
CROW: Give a hand. Pull, man.
- This darn wind's too much. HARRIS: Hold it, hold it.
HARRIS: Don't let it get away.
Close it up! Come on!
Close it up! Okay, now, get aboard.
MORAN: Push. Push.
Get in there, lock it up!
MORAN: Here it comes!
TOWNS: Get inside. Come on!
Let's get the door closed.
How are you feeling?
Better have some more of this.
Come on. Up you come.
[COUGHING]
I think you like this better than I do.
That's all right. As a matter of fact, I've given it up.
How is he doing?
Oh, he's fine. We'll have him back with his wife in no time.
But maybe too late.
No, you can't tell. Perhaps she'll be better by the time you get there.
No, she would never send a cable.
My wife is a very modest person.
She'd send a cable only if it were something bad.
Now, don't you worry. We'll get you out of here.
He's right, Gabriele.
[MUSIC PLAYS ON RADIO]
The sandstorm will make it more difficult, won't it?
What, finding us? No, simplify things no end, old chap.
They'll bloody well give up. Are you frightened?
You don't want to be despondent, old man.
Wait till the water runs out, then you can really start laughing.
They wouldn't really just give up looking, would they?
Never.
Don't you worry, me old duck, they'll find us.
Trouble is, we'll all be dead.
[CONNIE FRANCIS' "SENZA FINE" PLAYS]
Give that to the boy for a little while.
To the boy.
Thank you.
TOWNS: I told Standish we wouldn 't even have time to think about lunch.
That was three days ago.
This is our fifth day.
Most of them still believe it's only a matter of time before we're picked up.
I wish I could be sure of that.
This heat is intolerable.
You should come here in the summer.
It's lovely.
Hey, sarge, look at this!
Hey, Abdul!
They went that way.
Abdul!
Your mates went flashing through here on a herd of camels about an hour ago.
[MONKEY CHATTERS]
[PLANE ENGINES ROARING IN THE DISTANCE]
STANDISH: Can they see us?
BELLAMY: There it is. HARRIS: Where?
CROW: Yeah, I see it. Up there!
BELLAMY: Hey! Down here!
- Down here! CROW: Down here!
- Hey! - Down here!
Down here!
- Come on! CROW: Come down here!
HARRIS: Hey, come on! Get down here!
- Here we are! - Down here!
- Come on! - Hey! Hey!
- Hey! CROW: Come on!
WATSON: Come on down here! STANDISH: Come down here!
BELLAMY: Come on! CROW: Come back here!
It's pretty high. Probably about 30,000.
More like 35. Couldn't be the airlines, not in this area.
I don't think they could see us even if they were looking for us.
BELLAMY: Hey! CROW: Come on!
MORAN: No, I suppose not.
MEN: Hey! - All right, come on now, forget it.
- You're wasting time, they didn't see us. - Bloody pilots.
All them flares do is make a lousy stink. Might as well quit using them.
There'll be nothing. Nobody could find us.
That's right, Standish. Nobody will.
HARRIS: It's time we tried to march out of here.
Oh?
You've heard the others. You know what they're thinking?
It's five days, we've had two sandstorms...
- ...we're not sure they're even looking. - They're looking.
Nevertheless, if we're 100 miles off-course...
Which way were you thinking of marching, captain?
What is our nearest water point? You can show me on your charts.
Well, yes, I can do that. How many were you thinking of taking with you?
Well, apart from Sergeant Watson, I don't know yet.
Well, perhaps now's the time to find out.
Yes, perhaps it is.
- He can't walk out of here. - No, of course he can't, but...
- He's entitled to try. - He's not entitled to kill himself.
Oh, don't worry, Frank. I don't think he's aware of the problems involved.
I'll get the maps.
HARRIS: Gentlemen, I made a decision and I'd like you all to hear about it.
Now, I intend marching out of here.
The plan is to travel at night when it's cool...
...and then rest as best we can during the day.
We leave at sundown this evening. Sergeant Watson, would you come here?
I'll take Sergeant Watson and anybody else who wants to come with me.
Volunteers, give me your names...
...and we'll start making the preparations.
MORAN: Captain Harris?
You wanted to know our position.
If you'd like to come over here, I'll show you.
Now, gentlemen, we're in the middle of this circle...
...which runs through the three water points.
[STUTTERING]
That's Marada in the north, Tazerbo in the east and Namous in the south.
Marada is 106.
Say, London to Birmingham.
Marada's not a city, it's a flea-bitten waterhole...
...with some borax quarries, an oil well and a few lousy palm trees.
Well, that's our objective then, Marada.
Say, captain...
...you done much marching in desert terrain?
- On exercises and that sort of thing. - How far?
Ten or 15 miles. Full equipment, of course.
- Plenty of water, I suppose? - Sufficient.
[STUTTERING]
Look, I don't know what your practical navigation's like, mine's not bad.
But I wouldn't march 10 paces from here.
In the daytime, it's hitting 120 in the shade...
...and out there, there is no shade.
If you could take as much as four pints a day with you...
- ...you'd still be sweating 10. - We intend marching by night.
Fine, well, precisely in what direction?
- There are compasses, you know. TOWNS: That's fine.
That's just fine. Someday I'll have you tell me...
...what your compass was reading as you passed the Jebel Haroudj Mountains.
They're mostly magnetic rock...
...and that sort of makes nonsense out of the compass.
- One can navigate by the stars. - If you marched 106 miles by the stars...
...and your calculations were just one percent out...
...you could pass the Eiffel Tower in daylight and never see it.
Look where Marada is. There's absolutely n-n-noth...
- Nothing. MORAN: Nothing. Nothing. Nothing.
If you miss this glorious little bunch of trees...
...there's n-nothing between you and the coast, and that's 500 miles.
Well, nobody's suggesting that it was easy, Mr. Moran.
Tell me this, captain, are you right-handed?
- Yes, as a matter of fact. TOWNS: That means your right leg...
...is more developed than the other and takes a longer step.
If you have an unreliable compass, you just go around...
...in a left-handed circle and there's nothing you can do about it.
You're right, Mr. Towns, but you're talking about right-handed civilians.
In an officer's training corps...
...we military men are taught to march with absolute precision.
I'd even send Sergeant Watson here on ahead.
As it happens, he's left-handed.
Now, if you'll excuse me. Come along, sergeant.
There's nothing you can do, Frank.
He goes by the book. And you can't re-write it for him.
No.
Gentlemen.
I've been examining this aeroplane.
- You have? - Yes. We have everything here...
...that we need to build a new one and fly it out.
If you'd have a look at my calculations.
- Don't know if you can read my writing. - Are you trying to be funny?
- What did you say? - I said, are you trying to be funny?
That is precisely the reaction I'd expect from a man...
...of your obvious limitations.
What's happening to everybody?
Here. Here, you can have this.
And here you are, Ratbags. I won't be needing this anymore.
I won't be needing this either.
Hey, you don't have a coat, do you?
Take mine. I won't be needing it anymore.
- I don't think I should. - What's wrong? That's a good coat.
It cost me 50 bucks in Marseilles. It'd cost more than 100 in the States.
- If you really want me to... - Oh, sure.
I gave the radio to the boy.
I won't be needing it anymore. I'm going with Captain Harris.
I got something for you fellas too.
I got a lot of work shirts I picked up cheap in Genoa.
They're good shirts. I only washed them once.
Harris, don't you know better than to tell Cobb he could go with you?
How far do you...? The man's crazy. He wouldn't last a day out there.
- Cobb? I haven't even spoken to him. - He seems to think he's going with you.
Does he? Well, I'll have to disillusion him.
No, no, wait a minute. Wait a minute. Just let it alone for a while.
Incidentally, I appreciate your concern about me going...
...but I want you to know I'm doing it all off my own bat.
It may be a gamble, but it can increase your chances of being picked up.
Come on, sergeant.
HARRIS: What's happened? WATSON: Must have twisted it.
HARRIS: All right, let's get him over here.
Just tripped in the doorway, sir. Must have caught it on something.
It seems there is nothing broken. Perhaps you just sprained it.
Sorry we have no ice.
Looks as if you're for the Sick Parade, sergeant.
Just my luck, sir. I suppose I'd only be a burden to you.
- Well, it can't be helped now. - Perhaps, if I could rest it tonight...
- ...I'd be all right tomorrow. - I'm afraid we haven't time.
Don't you worry about it, sergeant.
Yes, sir.
What do you mean? You don't think you're going out there on your own?
Oh, no. No, he's not. He's not gonna go alone.
- I'm going with him. Isn't that right? - I'm afraid not, old chap.
But I just told you. I just told you I was going.
You're in no condition to come with me.
Sorry, but I think it's better that you stay here.
Why, I told you I was going! I told you! I told you!
TOWNS: Take it easy, Cobb. Come on. COBB: I told you!
- Let me go! CROW: Easy, Cobb.
- Let me go! CROW: Easy, Cobb, easy. Easy.
BELLAMY: We don't want to hurt you.
COBB: I told you!
[COBB SOBBING]
CROW: We'll all end up like him, I'm betting.
Leave him now, captain. I'll talk to him later.
Here.
Thank you.
- That an oil journal you're reading? - No.
You're not in this line, then.
Line?
Well, yes. I mean drilling. Oil.
No, I'm a designer.
Oh, really? What, furniture, that sort of thing?
No, Mr. Moran, aeroplanes.
I'm an aircraft designer.
Are you?
Then you really meant what you said about getting this thing out of here.
Did you think I was joking, perhaps?
No, Mr. Dorfmann, that I didn't think.
You always have to spoil things for me, don't you?
What did you have to tell the captain I couldn't go along for?
- I didn't tell the captain anything. - Yeah.
Well, you're the one had me fired in Jebel, though, wasn't it?
Chief rigger, in charge of seven guys.
You think I couldn't handle a crummy job like that?
All I had to do was hold onto this lousy job for another six months.
I could have gone back to the States as a chief.
But, no. Oh, no. You had to spoil it for me.
- Well, you still could go back. - Yeah, to what?
They ain't gonna let no headcase run a drilling operation.
Nobody's describing you as a headcase, Mr. Cobb.
That's what I came to tell you.
Now, you really must try to understand that fatigue mentale...
...I mean, mental exhaustion...
...can happen to anyone. But it doesn't last.
Well, I don't understand all those fancy words.
I don't think those guys that do the hiring do either.
Possibly not, but it will pass.
It will pass, I assure you.
CROW: I tell you now, mate, we're better off right here...
...than traipsing off on that bloody desert.
Do you think you can look after Chucho?
I'm gonna go along with Captain Harris.
- Well, well, yeah. But... CROW: What's the matter with you?
I thought you were saving him for some snotty-nosed Mexican kid.
Sure, but don't be jealous, Ratbags.
Maybe one day I find a present for you too.
What's this "jaloose"? Can't you learn to speak English?
Hey, why would you want to go walking off into that?
- Didn't you see enough of that in Jebel? - Who knows, Mike?
Maybe after a few days walking we'll be better off than you are.
[MONKEY CHATTERS]
It's all right, Chucho. It's all right, Chucho.
- I will be back. It's all right, Chucho. - Easy, easy, easy.
[SPEAKS IN SPANISH]
You must be bloody daft, mate.
Anyway, maybe Capitán Harris can teach me to speak...
...real good English like you, my little Ratbags.
Stupid sod.
WATSON: Thank you.
- Good, you all set? - Yes, sir.
Welcome aboard.
I'm not as confident that we won't make it as you...
...but I'd be grateful if you'd send up some smoke at midday...
...for three days. To help keep our bearings.
- Three days? - Yes, we won't need it after that.
Ah.
Well, captain, we all wish you every... Well, you know how all of us feel so...
Yes, well, come along.
It will be getting dark soon. We might get lost.
Hey, Babozo, slow down.
- Remember you got flat feet. - Adiós, little Ratbags.
WATSON: He's gone! He's gone!
He's gone.
Cobb's gone.
I don't understand. Can they see him from up there or can't they?
Of course not, he's just looking at the view.
Haven't you been up there? Lovely.
There's a big lake on the other side. They got speedboats, everything.
Frank, he's got six hours' start on you.
How far could he get without water?
He didn't even stop to take a canteen. And it's my fault.
- I should have watched him. - Even if you find him, what can you do?
What can we do? You'll be just as badly off as Harris would be.
I'm gonna bring him back, Lew.
DORFMANN: You will see we have all we need:
Welding torches, steel cable, all the tools we need.
For example, this here, it all looks quite adequate.
- Why were they being returned? - You know what engineers are like.
They just love shiny new tools, especially if someone else is paying for them.
The prototype I have in mind would have to fly at the first attempt.
To achieve that, Mr. Moran, requires a pilot of quite outstanding capabilities.
Granted, this may not be the best possible advertisement...
...but Frank Towns is one of the few really great pilots left in this world.
- Oh, really? - Yes, oh, really!
He flew in planes that were n-nothing more than bits and pieces...
...before you went to school.
That's what is wrong. He's remembered everything and learned nothing.
However, since he apparently finds it necessary to run off into the desert...
...in pursuit of a lunatic who could be of no practical value to this project...
...the question is entirely academic. Don't you think so, Mr. Moran?
I agree. Entirely academic.
Get away! Get out of here! Get out of here!
Get out! Get out!
- What's the matter? - It's three minutes after 12.
Don't you want to start the signals for Captain Harris?
And your Captain Towns?
[MONKEY CHATTERING]
Get out if it, you stinker!
It's Frank!
BELLAMY: Hey, skipper! MORAN: Someone get some water.
I'll get it.
MORAN: Frank!
CROW: What happened to Cobb?
You all right?
We're stuck here, Lew. You know that, don't you?
Frank, I talked to Dorfmann again. L... l...
I realize that he... That he, you know, irritates you.
But I do think he knows more than we give him credit for.
Well, what's he dreamed up now?
Well, maybe he hasn't a leg to stand on, I don't kn-kn-know.
But you're the only person who's qualified to tell him so...
...and all I'm asking you to do is to... Is to talk to him.
Well, just talk to him.
All right, I'll talk to him, Lew.
If it makes you happy, I'll talk to him.
DORFMANN: There's no component problem.
The port boom is undamaged and so are all the portside components.
If we remove the starboard wing and attach it to the port boom...
...and perform a similar operation on the tail plane...
...you'll see that we'll have the basis of an entirely new...
...and aerodynamically sound structure.
- Is that understood? - Oh, absolutely.
We need only to clear the port engine of the sand that choked it in flight.
The Coffman starter is serviceable...
...and we should have no difficulty starting up the engine.
If we don't waste too much fuel on signals to Captain Harris...
...who's unlikely to be in any condition to benefit from them...
...we shall have enough of that as well.
Most of the hydraulic fluid has leaked away...
...but I worked out direct rod and cable controls, so that is no problem.
All right, now, what are you going to use for an undercarriage?
Our last landing rendered the undercarriage unserviceable.
There is enough H-section in the cargo monorail...
...and hull longerons to make up the skid cradle for takeoff.
Skid cradle?
Well, skis, Mr. Moran. Skis.
To take off, we shall have to move the final structure...
...to the valley beyond that far dune.
The surface there should be adequate. Now, as to whether it will fly...
...as far as the general design factors are concerned, there are no problems.
The center of gravity will allow us to distribute the payload...
...that means ourselves, on both wings.
Now, wait a minute.
Are you suggesting we string people on top of that wing...
...like sacks of potatoes?
They'll be behind fairings.
Never mind fairings! We got an injured man in there.
The doctor says he can't even be moved.
You're suggesting we tack him onto this thing...
...and bounce him around like a wrangler in a rodeo?
That is not what I had in mind, Mr. Towns.
With the material and personnel available...
...this project would require at least 12 days.
How long did you say Mr. Scarnati might be expected to live? Six days?
Perhaps less.
See, the problem does not even arise. Mr. Scarnati will remain here.
Why, you really are a miserable...
Even with the men, the wing loading will be half that of the sky truck.
We shall leave the hull, starboard boom, undercarriage, chanson on the ground.
Now, any more questions?
Yeah! Yeah, I have a few. Now, let's see if I've got this straight.
You're gonna unzip that starboard wing, lift it up from the other side...
...and tag it onto this port boom. Is that correct?
Well, yes. The tapers will be the wrong way, but...
The tapers? Forget about the tapers! You know what that wing weighs?
I would estimate it at something just over a ton.
TOWNS: That's just about right. There are eight of us.
Do you think you can lift 250 pounds, Mr. Dorfmann?
We use wedges and levers.
There is also a winch and we can construct an A-frame.
All right, we'll have levers and wedges and we'll throw in a winch.
This bunch is living on pressed dates with a sip of water once in a while.
In a couple days, nobody's gonna have the strength to do anything around here.
That is a very good point.
The heavy work will be done first. The wing will be moved tonight.
- Tonight? - Yes, I've worked out...
...a simple winding gear for use with the starboard generator...
...which will keep the batteries charged and provide lighting.
I see no immediate problems.
Unless you have some more questions, I still have some calculations to make.
I thought it was all cut and dried.
You mean you have a few things you haven't figured out yet?
Well, naturally I discontinued my work...
...when you embarked on your romantic search for Mr. Cobb.
We do need a pilot on this project...
...and frankly, I considered your chances of survival quite remote.
However, now that you are with us again, I can complete my calculations.
- I see no insoluble problems. - Well, I'll give you one.
You say building this thing of yours will take 12 days. Well, that's just fine.
If we're real lucky, we just have enough water to last another 10.
We have several gallons of antifreeze.
We can distill enough to provide for another four or five days.
But I agree water will be a critical factor.
Maybe we'll be dead before you finish this and maybe we won't.
That's what you'd call a critical factor.
Let me tell you something that makes nonsense out of this.
- Please do. - I won't give you...
...the old veteran flyer routine, Mr. Dorfmann.
I just want you to know I've been flying for quite some time...
...and it hasn't always been for crummy outfits like this one.
I'm sure you've had a colorful career. But that's not the point.
All right, you know a whole lot more than I do about aerodynamics...
...and drag coefficients and stress factors. Okay, okay.
Your theory's fine. But you get this: That engine's rated at 2000 horsepower...
...and if I was fool enough to let it get started...
...it'd shake your pile of junk into 1000 pieces...
...and cut us up into mincemeat with the propeller.
I told you there'd be no difficulty building this aeroplane.
I also told you it would require an outstanding pilot to fly it.
The only thing outstanding about you, Mr. Towns, is your stupidity!
- What did he expect? - Shh.
- Easy, easy. - What did you...?
You want me to throw a conniption fit with his drawings?
Say he's a genius or something?
What good would that do when I know the damn thing could never fly?
Excuse me, captain, but perhaps...
Perhaps there is one other thing.
The way it is now, some of these men may not last as long as the water.
But they need to believe that there is hope for them.
I don't know, Mr. Towns, but maybe to build a thing like this...
...could be a lot of help.
We prove it can't fly and get killed in the process?
What're you giving us, doc?
This is hard work. These men can't stand hard work.
Watching each other die could be even harder.
I've lost five men, Lew.
Gabriele in there, he's on the way. That'll be six.
Are you...? Are you asking me to kill the rest of them...
...trying to get a deathtrap off the ground?
I don't know.
I don't know, Lew. It won't work.
It just can't work.
All right, maybe it can't.
Maybe it can't and we'll all be killed.
But if there's just one chance in a thousand that he has got something...
...boy, I'd rather take it than just sit around here waiting to die.
[CLATTERING]
DORFMANN: You there, Mr. Crow.
We'll need those panels again. You must be more careful.
All right, Heinrich, I'll watch it.
Oh, he's a lovely little fella, a little ray of sunshine.
[HUMMING]
A slow, steady turn is quite sufficient.
You'll be relieved in about half an hour.
Don't let that needle drop below 80. That one there.
- Eighty, huh? DORFMANN: That's right.
Now, we pull on three.
One, two, three.
[GRUNTING]
Shift, you wee mother...
Hey, Bellamy!
You big horse! Come on up here and give me a hand.
Hang on, little Ratbags. I'm coming.
CROW: My hand's tough enough.
You want me to leave this in place, Frank?
Ask Mr. Dorfmann.
Leave both of the bolts in place until the trestle is ready to take the weight.
As soon as you have finished that...
Mr. Moran, once you have finished that...
...come to the tail end. I'll mark out the assembly for you.
Hey. Hey. Hey, what are you building, sandcastles?
[CROW MUMBLES INDISTINCTLY]
Hashish, huh? Hubbly-bubbly. Hubbly-bubbly.
What's it for? Come on.
I'm constructing a still.