I wonder where we'll go after this.
- Back to Cairo, I suppose. - I hear one division's gone back already.
What a hope you've got.
It was just the same in the last war.
Rumors, rumors, rumors after every big push.
We were goin' to India for a rest, or Paris for a month with the girls.
- It never came off. - Nothin' ever comes off.
Sergeant Kelly wanted at company headquarters.
- Right away? - I was told to say at the double.
Hmm. What's up now, I'd like to know.
Haven't been misbehavin' yourself, have you, Sergeant?
Mind your tongue, Cassity my boy, and maybe you'll live to draw a pension.
If you ask me, there goes the whole bloomin' British army rolled up into one.
Yes. I heard the captain saying...
he practically bribed his way back into active service...
after him being retired too, mind you.
What a fool. You'd think at least...
he'd get himself a cushy job back home, at his age.
It is, by heavens! It is!
What a bit of luck. A night's rest and the mail up before we turn in.
- Letters from home. - Good.
Come on, lad. Hurry up. The mail!
Why, you blaster! Come back here!
- Johnson! - Back here, Corporal.
- Sergeant Marcus. - Right here, Corporal.
- Hill. - Here.
- Cottrell? - Hi-do.
Cottrell, here's a letter for you.
- Higgins! Cassity. - Here, sir.
That's me, Corporal.
- Pilcher! - Yeah. Here, Corporal.
- Spence! - Here.
Here, wait. There's a package for you.
Popular bloke, ain't he? Symes!
Here, Corporal.
- Smythe! - Here, Corporal.
- Bridges! - Here, Corporal.
Spence. My son.
Your wife certainly won't need a photograph of you as long as he's around.
You really think so? Most people say he's the image of his mother.
Our noble Canadian corporal.
Always afraid someone'll find out what he's thinking about.
It's not that. It's just that he's different to us...
- more shy like. - Anyway, he minds his own bloody business.
I like the bloke and I don't care who knows it.
He does his job and no nonsense about it.
Yes, as long as the sergeant's there to tell him what to do.
Well, you'd hardly call him officer material, would you?
Cassity. My son.
Oh, my. Ain't he a fine-lookin' chap?
London, October the 24th.
Dear Colin: Your letters are so few and far between.
Where are you? How are you? Are you well?
Only last night Tom Benedict and I were talking about you.
He's a war correspondent now and is making quite a name for himself.
We talked about the cocktail party you took me to in Chelsea before the war...
just after his first book had had such a marvelous success.
Remember?
I expect a lot of celebrities will be here.
Well, there'll be free food and drinks.
What's Mr. Benedict like- really like, I mean?
Oh, rather like his book, highly successful.
Would you have wanted to write his book?
I'd like to write even a seed catalog that sells 30,000 copies in two weeks.
There he is, over there.
Remember my second chapter? The prime minister invited me down to Chequers...
for the weekend, to discuss the whole situation.
Dickie Mountbatten was going along, of course, and-
Colin Spence.
- Hello, Tom. - I've been meaning to ring you about lunch, old man...
but I'm afraid they've had me rather hopping.
Oh, this is Miss Lee. Mr. Benedict.
- How do you do? - I'm delighted.
Uh, you two know everybody, of course.
Oh, by the way, that last article of yours was simply top hole.
It had real thought. I read snatches of it on the plane coming from Moscow.
- Uh, cocktail? - Thank you.
- You're, um, in films, aren't you? - Oh, no. I'm a pianist. Why?
- Well, anyone so beautiful usually is. - Oh.
I expect Colin's told you we were both on the same newspaper in the old days.
- Oh, yes. He has. - Good old Colin.
I tell you, this lad has a head on his shoulders.
He means for a provincial.
I'm afraid he's a little bit too self-effacing for these times though.
You know, like the good old democracies-
Nice, but a little bit too civilized for his own good.
- Eh, Colin? - I daresay you're right...
though I never thought of it that way.
Uh, by the way, you two aren't engaged or anything like that, are you?
No, w-we're just very good friends.
Oh, good gracious. I must run. I'm broadcasting to America in 45 minutes.
It's rather a nuisance, but there it is.
I say, what about you coming along to the broadcasting studio with me?
- But we-we just got here. - I'd rather like somebody nearby on those occasions...
to signal me in case I start playing silly tricks or lose my nerve...
- or don't get absorbed. - But Colin-
Oh, I can't depend upon him. He's far too lenient with me.
But it's tremendously important with my book coming out in America.
- You won't mind, old man, will you? - No, I suppose not.
I won't keep her more than an hour.
Uh, now there's a couple of ideas in this broadcast of mine...
that I'd like to talk over with you.
You know? From a woman's point of view?
Uh, the first thing is this now. Do you think-
Corporal Spence?
- Corporal Spence? - Oh. Hello, Sergeant.
- Listen, lad. I've got orders. - Now wait a minute, Sergeant.
They aren't gonna send us out tonight after promising us a rest?
No, it's not as bad as that. We'll provide a daylight patrol for tomorrow.
- Just a look about. - Why us? Why doesn't the air force get the job?
Air force, air force. I'm sick of hearing about it.
You'd think the rest of us were just out here on a picnic.
This war, like every other war, is gonna be won by men on their feet with guns in their hands...
and don't you forget it.
But from a plane, they could see more in an hour than we could all day.
Perhaps, but they miss a lot too. They go too fast.
Check your ammunition and warn your men tonight.
- Well, you're comin' with us, aren't you? - You bet I am.
I don't suppose you got any beer from the lovin' folks at home.
No such luck, but I can bring along a tin of pineapple.
Pineapple?
That's about as useful to a man with a thirst like mine...
as silk stockings to a mermaid.
Pineapple!
Section... halt!
- All present, Sergeant. - Righto.
Here's our orders, lads. We move out of camp south by east...
keep a straight course till we sight the railroad along the coast.
Take care to keep out of trouble.
We're out to observe and report, not to fight unle-
- Where's your gaiters? - I purposefully left them off. They don't fit properly.
Put 'em on. We may be going into action.
If you're due to be killed, be killed properly dressed.
From there, we hit a fresh course and go on 50 miles.
Then halt, return to camp on a straight line across the desert.
That's all.
Cook's tour, that's what it sounds like to me.
Aye, with special summer rates.
I don't suppose we shall see a blasted thing.
The Eyeties are sticking to their camps.
The only Arabs I've ever read about do their traveling by night.
Sensible too. Only we could think up a patrol like this.
If there wasn't a war on, I know what the sergeant oughta do:
Post a lookout and let the rest of us take a snooze till the weather cools off.
Oh, I don't know.
I was thinking there's something rather sublime about the desert in moments like this.
Something that strips the mind of superficialities...
makes you think of the important things.
Pass the quinine, Corporal. Cottrell's got a touch of the sun.
I wonder if Liverpool's changed much.
Should be. It's been bombed enough.
- Good evening, sir. You have a reservation? - Yes. Colin Spence.
I don't seem to have your name, sir.
But I rang you up last Friday.
I'm sorry, sir. I'm afraid there's been some mistake.
How could there be a mistake? You promised me a good table for two.
But can't you give us something?
Very well, madam.
This way, please.
- This the best you have? - It's the only thing left, sir.
But we shan't be able to see a thing.
I'm sorry, madam. We're a bit crowded tonight.
But they promised you a good table.
Why don't you make them give it to you?
But this is the only table they have left.
Well, what are you two doing hiding way back here?
- Hello. - Hello.
You won't be able to see a thing.
- I had reservations but there was some mistake. - Nonsense.
They don't make mistakes here. I hope you made a row.
- Colin doesn't like rows. - Can't say I do either. But I know these people.
They'll jolly well take advantage of you every time they can.
- And it's my birthday too. - Your birthday?
Well, that's all the more reason why you shouldn't be stuck back here in a corner.
Uh, boy. Send the headwaiter to me immediately, will you?
Especially, if I may say so, since you look so very charming.
- Oh. Well, please. - I'm sorry, sir.
Look here. What do you mean by telling these friends of mine that you've no decent tables?
But Mr. Benedict, there really isn't any space left.
- Well, add two more chairs to my table. These are my guests. - Very well, sir.
We really couldn't think of intruding.
Oh, but you're not, old boy. Definitely not.
In fact, you're saving me from a very dull evening with my publisher.
You two know everybody, of course. Uh, sit here, my dear.
Uh, sit there, old man. I don't want you to miss the show. It's really frightfully good.
- Pardon me. May I- - Certainly, sir.
Shall we?
How far have we come since the last halt?
Oh, close to 50 miles, allowin' for wheel slippings in the sand and deviations.
- We better stop and have a bite to eat. - What do you recommend, Sergeant?
Best in the house, my boy- biscuit, bully beef and tea.
Could you make it hot tea? Nothing like a nice cup of hot tea to cool one down.
I daresay it does, but the smoke from a fire might give away our positions.
Post your lookouts on that ridge, Corporal.
- I think I'll have a turn myself. - That's the lad.
A good N.C.O. always does his share and a bit more of the dirty jobs.
The rest of us will have a bit of a nap.
Pilcher, Symes? Cottrell.
Me?
Give me a hand with this Lewis gun.
Oh, Sergeant? Transmitter won't work.
Must have bust coming down that big hill after we left the outpost.
- Can't make it go, eh? - No, sir.
Well, I was doin' patrols before radio was heard of.
Guess I'll still be doin' 'em after it's forgotten.
Thank you, sir.
Sergeant Kelly!
Hop it, lads.
Scatter wide. Keep movin'.
Don't give 'em a stationary target.
Here comes the sergeant.
- What's happened? - She's dead.
Well, I can see that.
- Try for the pilot, Pilcher. - Right.
- Cottrell, you go for the rear gunner. - Right.
It's the Eyeties. Better leave it here, boys.
Better get on the other side.
Duck!
You got it!
Oh, my-
Down. Get down.
God help us. We're wiped out!
- We better get down there, see what we can do to help. - What about them?
I don't expect they'll be back, at least not till they reload.
- Sorry, lad. - That's all right.
Eight dead out of 14.
- Did you stop one? - No, no. Bit of a burn, that's all.
Maybe I shouldn't have tried to start the blasted truck.
I never figured the Eyeties would come in so smart.
Still, you did get one of their planes, Corporal. Nice bit of work.
Yes, and if he hadn't, it never would have crashed into our truck and those men.
Won't do any good to look at that.
I've gone over everything.
All right, lad. Into the car you go.
There's a hole in the petrol tank.
I stopped it up, but I don't know how much petrol we have left.
Well, we'll keep goin' till it runs out.
- The old gun's finished, Sergeant. - Finished?
Must've been a bit of that bomb.
Sheared away the ejector and locking pin clean as a whistle.
- Then all we've got left are the rifles. - And the Lewis gun.
By the hokey, you're right. And I was gonna give you a taking-off...
for taking it out of the truck without permission.
We've only got three drums of ammunition. The rest were in the truck.
But there's ammunition in here- a dozen Mills bombs-
and we still have the food that's on our backs.
We'll get through. Well, lads, I expect we won't see home tonight.
The sooner we clear out of here, the better.
Those Eyeties will be coming back...
and this time, they'll mean business.
Symes, you'll do the driving.
Can't we bury those poor devils?
Don't worry. They'll never miss it.
Nasty kind of death.
I'm glad I didn't find any of them alive.
Maybe they'll turn out to be the lucky ones yet.
I'm sorry I'm late.
- Good heavens. When did you do that? - Today.
Doesn't fit very well, does it?
- But I never dreamed you were thinking of such a thing. - I wasn't, till yesterday.
They say the army's either gonna take some weight off me or put some on.
I forget which, but I expect it'll look better then.
Army shoes.
Aren't you going to try for a commission?
Oh, I'm afraid I'll have my hands full being just what I am.
But-
Somehow you- you didn't talk about the war very much.
I never seemed to associate it with you.
Was it Dunkirk or Rotterdam that got you?
No. Not exactly.
Well, do you think they're going to invade us?
I don't know what they're going to do.
And I don't know how to explain it.
In fact, I don't know that I even understand it myself.
But- You see, there was a waiter I used to know in Paris.
He worked in a little cafe on the Left Bank called the "Blue Monkey."
Well, I just happened to drop in there one night.
I'd been tryin' to write all day, and it hadn't come off.
I didn't care whether I ate or not.
But Joe- Least that's what I always called him.
I never knew his real name- Pierre, I suppose.
Well, you know how Frenchmen are about food.
Well, he kept asking me how I liked this and how I liked that...
and I just kept muttering, "Mm-hmm."
I wasn't paying any attention to what he said.
My mind was a thousand miles away, and-
Suddenly he got so mad, I thought he was gonna throw me out of the place.
You know how taximen are in Paris when they don't think you've tipped 'em enough?
Well, that's the way he behaved, only it-it wasn't the money.
It just seems I was a poor, stupid idiot...
that didn't have sense enough to appreciate good cooking when I tasted it.
- This doesn't make any sense at all, does it? - No, it doesn't.
Go on.
Well, the long and short of it was, I-
I apologized and explained why my mind wasn't on food...
and it wasn't long before I got him calmed down.
After that, I- I got in the habit of dropping in there almost every day.
I tell you, Joe was a realperson.
I used to tell him he was a poet, only he used sherry instead of rhymes.
And French to the core. You know- liberty, equality and fraternity.
They really meant something to him...
although of course he didn't talk much about it...
except in terms of soup and truffles.
Well, I saw Joe yesterday.
- Here? - In a newsreel.
I got just a glimpse of him in a crowd of Frenchmen...
being herded along by German soldiers.
Anyhow- Suddenly, Joe looked right straight at me.
He didn't have to say anything. It was all there in his eyes, the whole story.
And somehow I- I couldn't get him out of my mind...
and this morning, I went back and looked at the film again.
And... suddenly I knew I just couldn't sit around any longer.
If I did...
I'd never be able to look a bowl of soup in the face again.
I told you this didn't make any sense.
It makes a great deal of sense, Colin.
- Seen anything? - Not a thing.
Kind of gives you the creeps, don't it?
It's all this stillness.
How would you feel if I told you we were lost?
- Lost? - Yes, sir. Lost in this bleedin' desert.
Not a blasted thing, not a landmark in sight.
- Do you have a compass? - No good. The needle's busted.
I didn't tell the others, but that last bomb gave her too much of a jolt.
It's worse than I thought.
We have about three gallons of petrol left in the tank.
You know what that means.
Finish this trip on foot.
Right you are.
- What about Cassity? - Him?
He can ride while the petrol lasts.
The only thing we can do is watch the North Star, move on northeast...
and hope one of our planes spot us.
Maybe they'll get the wind up back at headquarters and send out a searching party.
Should I shake 'em up, Sergeant?
Just a minute.
You know, if anything happens to me, you're in command.
Well, nothing's gonna happen to you, Sergeant. I mean, it can't.
Well, it won't, lad, if I can help it.
Still, if I stop a packet, it's up to you to get the patrol back...
and that's not an easy job.
But I'm no leader. I haven't had the experience to take up a command like this...
with other men's lives depending on me.
I can carry out orders, but I can't give them.
I'm just a civilian with a couple of chevrons on my sleeve.
Come to think of it, that's what most of us are.
But it's different with you. You've been in the army all your life.
We've come to depend on you, all of us.
The men look up to you and respect you. They know you know your job.
Why, I- I couldn't begin to take your place.
Aw, nonsense. I've been watchin' you, lad...
and you're not bad for a wartime-educated amateur.
You just follow the principles and the fine points of soldierin'...
and I'll put my mind on dodgin' the bullets.
And we'll get home in one piece.
All right. Get hoppin', lads.
Time for your morning exercise.
She's dried out, Sergeant. That's as far as she'll go.
Well, as a mechanized army, looks as if we're finished.
Nothin' but a heap of old iron now.
Should we smash it up a bit before the Eyeties get hold of it, Sergeant?
No. We'll take out the carburetor and the distributor.
It isn't likely the Eyeties will have any spare parts. We'll take them back with us.
Maybe they'll send out a party and bring it in.
How far we got to go, Sergeant?
Well, it's hard to tell. May be 60, it may be 80 miles.
- But never mind, lad. We can do it. - Plane up!
- Where? - Flyin' close to the ground.
I believe it's one of ours.
- Yes, it is ours. - Off with your jackets, lads.
Wave away!
He's probably only interested in getting home.
He'll never even notice us. Hey!
Hey!
If we only had a signaler, we could tell him our troubles in Morse.
Never mind. He'll report where we are.
Proud of that little scratch, aren't you?
Can't wait till you get home to show it off.
See that you don't stop one in a worse place...
and have to lie on your belly to wave.
Brandy.
By hokey. That pilot's a gentleman.
- And chocolate. - Chocolate only makes you thirsty.
All right. You needn't have any.
What's that?
"If you move, move northeast, but look out for enemy armored car...
"stationary six miles from you on that bearing.
Good luck."
I thought we had nothing to do but wait and be rescued.
Well, there's no use cryin' over spilt milk.
The only thing to do is to push on northeast the way the pilot suggests.
After all, if a rescue party's comin', they'll look for us in that direction.
Ignoring, I assume, the fact there's an armored car?
No, but if we're lucky, we'll pass in the dark.
Unless of course we sneak up on it...
and spring a little surprise of our own.
There can't be more than six in the crew.
Against six of us. What could be fairer?
Perhaps if we give 'em a good shaking up, we could get away in the car ourselves.
What did I tell you, Corporal? You have the making of a real soldier.
Stick to the army, lad, and listen to me, of course.
There's no telling where you'll end up. Well, that's it.
Let's bury everything we don't need here...
put a net over the carrier and push on.
Fix your bayonets.
This is it.
From now on, we travel on our bellies.
- Just like us last night. - Maybe.
Our sentries wouldn't do that, Corporal.
Look at the fools. Just like Eyeties.
Well, that shows you what bad discipline means. Remember that.
- We could shoot them from here, couldn't we? - In this light, at this distance?
The bit of luck we'd hit one, the rest would be in the car in no time.
We'd never have a chance.
No, we've got to surprise them.
We've got to crawl, without a sound from anyone.
Corporal, you and Cassity go after the sentries.
- You'll have to belly-flop. - Yes, Sergeant.
The rest of us will go behind that smaller hill...
and crawl up over the shoulder.
Check your time. It's 11:00.
You'll be in position before we will.
So wait till you hear a shout or a shot, then lay them out.
What if they spot us first?
Open fire. Wherever we are, we'll go in and shoot them up. You understand that, lads?
Good luck.
All right.
You take the right-hand man, the one with the beard.
That's a stunning head. It'd look nice mounted.
What the devil?
Let 'em have it.
Better get down there in case the sergeant needs us.
- What happened? - Symes had his safety catch off.
He slipped and let off a round. We still had a long way to go, so we made a dash for it.
- Any prisoners? - No. They stood up and fought it out.
- Give 'em credit for that. - And us?
Poor old Symes.
Grenade.
Where's the sergeant?
He's up there with Cottrell. You'd better have a look.
I'll go and collect Symes's pay-book, identity disk, that sort of thing.
- Where'd you get it, Sergeant? - Groin.
Get those sentries?
Both of 'em.
S- You'll be in command from now on, Corporal.
And you're in a tight corner, no sense denying that.
Don't forget what I taught you.
Drive them hard. Watch the water.
By the way...
how much of it have you got left?
Less than a bottle between us.
Now, remember this.
When they think they're done in...
there's still a little bit of strength left in them somewhere.
You'd better clear out of this.
- That fire can be seen for miles. - You can't move now.
Then you'll have to go on without me.
- Leave me. - The devil we will.
Corporal Spence...
I'm still in command of this patrol...
and I'm giving an order.
I'm sorry, Sergeant, but we couldn't do that.
That's insubordina-
All right, lad.
If you won't leave without me...
I'll move on with the rest of you.
You got it all wrong, Sergeant.
This gully's good cover. Why, it twists all over the place.
Best thing we can do is- is stay right here till we get a chance to get our bearings.
Perhaps you're right.
Give the men something to eat.
- They've earned it. - Can't I get you something?
Nothing to eat for me...
and take that water bottle away.
Drinking water... is the worst thing in the world for a wound like mine.
Just lay my rifle here beside me.
What for?
I want to use it as a crutch when we move on.
I'll give it a bit of a cleaning while we're waiting.
What's all that for, Corporal?
Short of ammunition?
No.
Have a go at this brandy.
No.
And that's the first time I've ever refused brandy.
Spoiling my record.
Go along now and see to the men.
How is he?
Pretty bad. I'm afraid he can't move.
Maybe we could find something to make a stretcher with.
It's hard work carryin' a man on a stretcher.
I had a go at it once at the aid post.
Thought it'd be cushy, but was I glad to get off!
Couldn't help overhearing what you chaps just said... about the sergeant.
- I'd like to give you my opinion. - Of course. Go ahead.
Well, this is war.
As we all know, war is cruel.
At a time like this, we can't afford to think of the individual...
but rather of the good of a greater number.
In other words, it's a question of the survival of the fittest...
- and I think- - Wait a minute. What are you getting at?
Well, I know it sounds rather- rather beastly suggesting we leave a wounded man behind...
but surely, under the circumstances, isn't it the wisest thing to do?
If we go on alone, we can move fast.
We may even run into one of our own posts or patrols!
- Then we can send back for him. - One more word out of you and I'll bash your head in!
W- How did he do it? I unloaded his rifle before I left.
"Corporal Spence, I always carry a spare clip in my pocket.
Best of luck and God bless."
I'll bet he was laughing to himself when he wrote that.
He always liked to pull a fast one.
That's why he wouldn't eat or drink. He was saving it for us.
He was a real old soldier. Not many like him left. A bit rough and hard-bitten...
but... by hokey, he died like a gentleman.
We'll miss him.
We better bury him next to Symes and clear outta here.
You'll have us all worn out at the rate we're going.
It's better than being captured or dying of thirst.
Well, this gun's getting heavy. Why don't we stop and rest?
Because we're gonna finish this trek as quickly as we can, all four of us.
- Even if it kills us, understand? - Good heavens, Corporal.
For a minute there, I thought it was the sergeant himself talking.
- Is this the last, Corporal? - Yes.
Sorry, Corp.
Look. Wheel tracks.
Means we're getting near home.
Near to the Eyeties more likely. I don't suppose any of our lorries have been here lately.
If they're Eyeties, we can give ourselves up.
That's better than dying here!
Give ourselves up?
I didn't know I had that much strength left.
I could crime you for that, you know?
Sorry, Corporal. Did I ought to have asked your permission first?
I've been wanting to do that for a long time. Give ourselves up!
- You won't crime Cassity, will you, Corporal? - No, I didn't see it.
Cottrell, if you make a song and dance when we go back- I didn't see it, understand?
But I don't want rows and arguments among ourselves. We can't afford it.
Come on, Cottrell. Get up. You're not hurt.
And no more talk about giving ourselves up.
I didn't mean anything. I'm a bit delirious.
It's okay. We're all that way. But keep your mouth shut.
I'll race you to the raft.
- I feel guilty being here. - Why? Don't you like the water?
Oh, I love it. But I should be working.
Oh, it's too hot to work. Besides, it's my first leave. You owe it to me.
I broke an engagement to be with you, I'll have you know.
Tom?
- Does he know you're not gonna be there? - Oh, I left him a note.
Do you like Tom?
Oh, I don't know. I never really thought about it. Do you?
Oh, he's rather clever and amusing.
I should think he'd be attractive to women.
Oh, he is to a lot of women.
He's so-What's the word? Dynamic.
Oh, he's aggressive, yes. Sometimes a bit too much so.
But he seems to know what he wants out of life and how to get it.
You know, it's very funny. When I'm with you, we always seem to be talking about Tom.
And when I'm with Tom, we always seem to be talking about you.
That's because we're jealous of each other.
You know, the rivers in Canada are much larger than this.
Trees everywhere, and hills- You'd like them.
I'm sure I would.
Have you ever thought of going to Canada? To live, I mean?
Well, no. Not exactly.
It's really wonderful.
That is, if you want to do something like write or study music.
By the way, how is your novel coming along?
I'm afraid it's like a horse race- just false starts.
Do you find it more difficult to put women in your books or men?
Oh, I don't know.
When I write about a woman, a principal character...
I don't think of her as very different from a man.
I mean, I don't try to give her a different psychology.
I just imagine how I'd behave if I were a woman-
under different circumstances, of course-
with her own opinions and with as distinct a personality as I can give her.
Oh, I see.
Of course, it may be a pretty rotten formula, really.
Oh, it's not a rotten formula at all.
It ought to make some very good books for you.
But I don't think it'll take you very far in real life.
You don't?
Unfortunately, women aren't just like men.
They don't talk like men. They don't behave like men.
For instance, when a woman's in love, she's helpless to do anything about it...
until the man opens his heart first.
Oh, of course, she can scheme and contrive to make him declare himself...
but the initiative is really with him.
That's just one point.
I guess it makes a great deal of difference.
Or do you think so?
Maybe that's what's been wrong. I haven't given my characters the right point of view.
- Maybe they've been afraid of too many things. - Afraid of what sort of things?
I don't know. Did you ever know anybody who didn't like to open a telegram...
or look at a bill from a tailor or...
wouldn't ask a girl to dance because probably she'd already promised a dance.
Or walks up and down in front of a house, trying to make up his mind to ring the bell.
Or just won't take a good, healthy slice and bite of life because it might taste good.
Well, if you have, you got a pretty good idea of the kind of book I'd write.
Should we swim again?
I thought it was a mirage, but it's not. It's still there.
- Water! We're saved. - Stay down.
- Suppose it's occupied. - But there's water there. We've got to have water.
I don't see anybody moving. No trenches or pillboxes.
That doesn't prove anything. We've got to be sure.
But it's too hot to stay here. We'll go mad in this heat.
The sun will be down in a couple hours. We can wait.
You can say that because it doesn't affect you! Nothing affects you!
You're not capable of thinking what this means!
My mind may not be the sensitive mechanism yours is, Mr. Cottrell...
but I can get just as thirsty as you can and just as hot too.
And I still say we can stick it if the corporal says so.
There's a sort of gully over there with some shade in it.
No need to roast ourselves.
Come along. Keep down, all of you.
The idea is we go call for a drink as soon as it's dark, eh, Corporal?
Thinks the place a blasted pub, doesn't he?
- Oh, wish to heaven it was. - You suppose there's any dates on those palms?
Proper chance. It's spring, you fool.
Spring? If this is spring, what will summer be like?
- What is it? - Can't tell.
- Doesn't look like one of ours though. - Fighter?
- No, it's pretty big. - What would a bomber be doing here alone?
Might be looking for someone.
It's coming down.
Why don't we fire a few shots to attract attention?
- It's a Jerry! - Jerry?
Five, six-
Troop carrier. Junkers, a big one too.
Looks like they've come to occupy the place.
- Makin' a good job of it too. - Why? What do they want with it?
It's a water hole. That's what they always do, get control of the water.
I tell you, we're finished! We'll all die of thirst!
And for what? This desert? I told you it was insane!
We're not as bad off as all that.
There's still a tin of pineapple in the bag of grenades there.
- Pineapple? - You swine!
You filthy swine! Keeping it back when we're all dying of thirst?
Watch your front! You're on guard.
Was keeping it till this evening.
Ahh.
Well, that's a bit better.
To think I carried those bombs for all those miles and never thought of looking inside.
You carried 'em too, Cottrell, till the corporal relieved you.
If we'd known where it was, we'd have finished it a long time ago...
and be just as thirsty as ever now.
What'll we do now?
I don't know.
I've got an idea, but I want a little time to think it over.
Well, what are you going to do?
Stay here and die of thirst?
Go over there and kill as many as you can before you get killed yourself?
Or are you going to surrender?
I suppose there's nothing really dishonorable about that.
At least you can eat again and drink again and be in the shade.
Besides, as Cottrell says, this whole business is insane.
If the sergeant were here, I bet he'd-
The sergeant.
After all, he said it was my job to get this patrol back safely.
Just a question of how.
Maybe... if I think of him long enough and hard enough...
I can figure out the answer.
Think of Kelly. Think of Kelly.
Think of-
Think of Valentine.
Valentine.
- Well, it looks as if this is really good-bye. - Yes. I expect so.
It's going to seem strange not to be able to see you or talk to you.
- There's nothing to prevent our writing, is there? - No. Of course not.
Hurry it up, lad.
- You won't go out till there's an all clear? - No. I'll wait here.
Oh, Tom Benedict rang me today to say he'd meet us here.
He'd be very disappointed if he doesn't get here to say good-bye.
Yes. It'll be too bad, won't it?
- You've been seeing a lot of Tom lately, haven't you? - Oh, yes. Quite a lot.
I should think it'd be very exciting being married to a man like him...
- who's always in the thick of things. - Oh, yes. I expect so.
- Colin. - Val.
Hello there! Those confounded Jerries almost prevented my getting here.
Look. If you don't like these, you can always chuck 'em overboard.
Thanks.
Well, I guess I'd better be going. Bye, Tom.
Good-bye, old man. If you don't mind my saying so, I think you're a bit of an ass...
going off to war as a private when you might just as well have had a commission.
- Well, I prefer it that way. - Oh, nothing to be ashamed of. Lots of chaps feel the same way.
I expect, really, it's the only comfortable and honorable way to get through this war-
take orders and do your job.
Well, good-bye.
Let me have your water bottle.
- What you gonna do? - Go down there and reconnoiter.
- I'll come with you. - No. One has a better chance.
Look here, Corporal. You don't have to go.
We still got a drop of brandy left. We can do without water.
Then don't be disappointed if I bring these back empty.
We'll want a password and a countersign when I come back.
How about "Sergeant Kelly"? Password, "Sergeant." Countersign, "Kelly."
What am I doing out here by myself?
They gave me a chance to change my mind. Why didn't I?
Because I knew they'd admire me for going?
Because you knew it's what I'd do if I was in command.
- What? - You knew if you didn't...
I wouldn't lay quiet in my grave.
That's not it at all. I did this to prove to myself that Tom Benedict was wrong...
when he said all I wanted was to get through this war as comfortably as possible.
Very well, lad. Have it your own way.
Watch yourself, man. You want to spoil everything by walking straight into that German post?
You're not afraid of a jackal, are you?
This is crazy.
Maybe you ought to slip back now while there's still time.
I can always say the oasis is too well guarded.
- I've got to get out of here. - Oh, don't get excited.
Of course you're scared.
Never knew a soldier yet that wasn't scared at a time like this.
But go on. Stick it out anyhow, lad.
But I'm no hero. I'm no leader. I told you that.
Depends on what you mean by leader.
A leader's not just a man who looks at his watch and takes you over the top.
He's somebody you can trust to do his job...
maybe give you a better chance to save your own skin.
Prove to Cassity and Pilcher you're that kind of a man.
Wait a minute, lad. You're almost there.
Maybe you'd better walk after all.
- You'll get the job over with quicker. - Might be safer too.
If they see me crawling, they'll know I'm an enemy.
If I'm standing upright, they'll take me for one of their own Schweinehunde.
Ammunition.
Food.
Now water. Must be a well somewhere.
Where the devil is it?
All you have to do is to take your Mills bombs...
pull the pin, and pitch them over.
It seems a mean trick to kill men in their sleep.
If they were awake, they'd kill you quick enough.
Throw the first one farthest...
then get a decent place under the bushes and pitch the others.
In the confusion, they won't know which way to move or fire...
and you ought to be able to get away.
I'd better fill the water bottles first.
Too late, lad. Better get away from here.
The others will be comin' back in a moment.
Khamsin.
Khamsin? That's Arabic.
I know. They think there's a sandstorm coming.
A jackal. And I thought they were shooting at me.
- "Sergeant." - "Kelly"!
- Are you all right? - What happened? Did they get you?
- You got in all right. - Water.
Water!
- Food. - Food.
As I see it, there are only three things we can do.
Stay here, which is no good, because the food and water aren't going to last forever.
Take advantage of this sandstorm to bypass them, hoping to run into one of our patrols...
which isn't likely.
- Or we can do what we came to Libya to do - fight. - Fight?
Yes. Attack them head-on. They don't know we're here.
In this storm, if we can create enough confusion, we've got an even chance.
But my dear fellow, what's the use of that?
What possible influence could our attacking one Junkers-load of Germans...
have on the progress of this campaign?
Probably none at all. I don't know.
It seems to me that if every one of us starts fighting...
no matter where we are, or how unimportant it seems at the time...
the cumulative effect might be just what it's gonna take to win this war.
Well?
I don't think there's any choice. We're soldiers and they're the enemy.
- Cassity? - Anything you say.
- You? - Naturally, I'm with the others.
All right. Let's go.
We gotta get the airplane first, pin them to the ground.
Cassity, you and Cottrell see to that.
Pilcher and I'll move around to the right and go for the machine gun pit.
The range isn't more than 60 yards. You can't miss.
Go for Jerry first, then the for ward part of the fuselage.
Start firing in exactly five minutes, unless a grenade bursts before then.
Understand?
Good luck!
Corporal! Corporal!
Stay here till I come back.
Cassity! Cassity!
I remember that tree. It's a jacaranda.
Lots of 'em in Cairo.
This is Cairo. How do you feel now?
Much better, thanks.
That's good. I'll take your temperature.
Have I been here long?
Be careful. Don't bite it.
What's it say?
My, aren't you inquisitive?
I bet I'm not much above normal now.
You're doing very nicely.
- Hello, Corporal. - Hello, Cottrell.
- You've got to be quiet. - I'll only be a moment.
What happened out there?
Well, it seems that when I threw that grenade...
it landed in the ammunition boxes and that was the end of Jerry.
- How did we get here? - They'd sent out a patrol for us after all.
Fortunately, they saw our smoke and came over to investigate.
And Cassity and Pilcher?
A shot from the Heinies got Cassity.
He never knew what hit him.
Pilcher's blooming along the hall.
Oh, by the way, he sends his congratulations. So do I.
- What for? - The Distinguished Conduct Medal, of course.
What rot.
They don't give a man a D.C.M. just for saving his own skin.
Oh, I don't know.
Not bad to be a bit of a hero with a red and blue ribbon on your chest.
- How'd they find out? - Well, I had to make a report.
I told them exactly what you did.
Besides, they found the bodies and the radio and the plane all smashed up.
Of course, I told them that I'd really had very little to do with it.
But the commanding officer insisted on recommending me too.
Congratulations.
Well, after all, we did put up a pretty good show between us.
Oh, and there's a long account of it in the Egyptian Gazette.
- And also the London papers too, I expect. - What?
And there's a war correspondent outside who wants to get your story firsthand.
Get rid of him.
Oh, I say. Do see him, won't you? Really. He's terribly keen about it.
Okay. Send him in. I'll deal with him.
All right.
There's a cable for you. Just arrived.
Thank you.
- Right in here, sir. - Thanks, old man.
Well.
- This is a bit of all right, old boy. - Hello, Tom.
- How do you feel? - All right.
Well, well.
You, a hero. I could hardly believe it.
I was in Alexandria when the report came through. I came right over.
Look. You want my story, don't you?
Oh, rather.
Then you do something for me first.
I want to send a cable.
Okay.
It's to Valentine. You know her address.
Yes.
Say, "Thanks. I want to marry you.
Will send engagement ring. Love, Colin."
Oh, what is this? Some kind of a joke?
I don't expect she'll think so.
Well, I'm afraid it's against regulations for me to send this...
but, um, an orderly will take it, or a nurse.
No. It might wait about for days. That won't do.
You're a correspondent. You've got priorities.
Send it to your paper. Tell them to forward it.
I'm afraid you don't know what the censors are like.
I don't care either.
They want to turn me into a tin-pot hero, I'm gonna cash in on it.
You see, I'm no longer the fellow you knew in London as Colin Spence.
I'm another man altogether, and a very good one.
I had to come all the way out here to meet a tough sergeant named Kelly...
who was born in a slum and educated in an army camp...
before I was fit for a woman like Valentine.
He's dead now, but he taught me one thing.
If I want Valentine or anything else worthwhile in life, I gotta fight for it.
That's not a bad thing for a man to find out, is it, Benedict?
Or for a nation either, for that matter. To fight?
- You're delirious. - Never mind what I am. Go get that cable off.
I'll murder you if you don't.
I've killed men, you know. Men who'd make a meal of you.
You think I'm joking, but you're not quite sure, are you?
I'll remove that doubt. I'm not.
- There he is! - Colin! Colin!
Colin.
Colin, darling, you're wonderful.
Take it easy. Don't overdo it, Corporal.
Beggin' your pardon - Lieutenant.
- From now on, I'm giving the orders. - Of course, darling.