Away All Boats Page #4

I wanted to be a doctor.

It's the truth.

Hot flash in high school,

so when I got to college,

everybody pressured me

into going out for the team.

There aren't enough hours

to play football...

and study medicine

at the same time.

Guess not.

I've been thinking, though.

When this war is over,

I'm going back to Cal...

and this time, no football.

See, Doc?

You're a bad influence.

- Congratulations, Mr. Kruger.

- Thank you, sir.

You're all a credit

to the Belinda.

Ship's company, dismissed!

Yes, sir?

You're the recognition officer.

Are those Japs or friendlies?

What's the captain waiting for?

Why don't he let us open fire?

They must be Japs, sir.

Commander Quigley!

- Sir?

- Identify those planes.

QUIGLEY:
Friendly.

- Huh?

- Hellcats, Captain.

Cease fire.

Cease fire immediately!

Planes fired on are friendly.

I say again, friendly.

Mr. Twitchell, go study

your recognition manual.

You're on hack until you've

drawn 25 freehand silhouettes...

of F-6Fs.

While you're doing it,

remember you advised me

to shoot down Americans.

No gunnery discipline at all

on those ships.

Almost started an epidemic.

Boat from the Sandival's

out to pick up that flier.

He doesn't seem hurt.

I don't envy the crew

that picks him up.

He's going to be the maddest

pilot in the United States Navy.

Six more men on report-all for

fighting amongst themselves.

Sit down.

Thank you, sir.

If this keeps up, we'll have

the whole crew on report.

Yes, I know.

Since the men found out the

routing changed from Noumea...

to Guadalcanal, they've been...

well, sir, they were

disappointed.

So was I.

Sir, I checked

with island command.

We can have their athletic field

from 1:
00 to 4:00 tomorrow.

The chaplain's stirring up

interest in a baseball game.

Mr. Jackson found out anything

about our mail yet?

He's checking on it.

Beer and Coke?

The chaplain wants to have

some for the younger men.

I'm surprised we have

any younger men...

after what they've been through.

So ordered, Commander.

Liberty for all hands

on Guadalcanal tomorrow.

QUIGLEY:
Yes, sir.

Liberty on Guadalcanal.

That's like getting to New York

and spending your leave...

in the Brooklyn Navy Yard.

CHIEF:
And I thought we was

going to New Caledonia.

To Noumea.

The navy figures we're too young

to be exposed to French dames.

I like to visit

historical places.

Don't you ever wash?

CHIEF:
This garbage grinder's

ready for salt water.

You don't

understand. I wash.

Quit pushing!

All right. Knock it off!

Knock it off.

Captain...

Sir?

All of our mail is at Noumea.

We haven't had mail for weeks,

and my wife's having a baby.

Believe me, the men

are riled up about it.

- The baby?

- No, sir-

no, sir. I mean the mail, sir.

I know what you mean,

Mr. Jackson.

Send a signal

to the fleet post office.

Request that the mail be

forwarded to our next anchorage.

Yes, sir.

Plans for the next operation

have arrived, sir.

Liberty on Guadalcanal.

Fine lot of combat efficiency

that'll build into my crew.

Sir?

CAPTAIN:
Nothing. Nothing. Let's

look at those operational plans.

Yech.

If this was Aussie brew,

I'd be feeling it. Nah.

In good Australia, where they

got good beer and pretty women.

In New Caledonia, where they got

pretty French women.

Warm 3.2.

No dames, no mail, no nothing.

Nothing!

Nothing but sailing on the lousy

Pacific on a lousy ship...

with a bunch of creeps

like Sacktime Riley!

RILEY:
Huh? What's the matter?

Bad enough doping off

aboard ship. Don't do it here.

RILEY:
What's eating you?

If it wasn't so warm,

I'd work you over.

You, too, if you weren't

such a runt.

Don't let that stop you.

Look at them.

You'd think it was

the World Series.

Strike one!

- Strike two!

- Strike? Strike?!

Chaplain, are you blind?

That last ball almost

took my head off.

Strike two, O'Bannion.

O'BANNION:
If that was

a strike, I'll eat it.

CHAPLAIN:
If you don't

stop arguing...

every time you're at bat,

I'll toss you out of the game.

One more word and out you go.

Now play ball.

Well, that's

a Protestant for you.

- That's my coconut.

- Your coconut? It's mine.

- I said it's my coconut.

Get one of your own!

Hey, a fight, guys! Let's go!

Attention, men!

Attention, I tell you!

This is an officer speak-

Mr. Twitchell, sir, I'm really-

TWITCHELL:
You're under arrest

for striking an officer.

- Ah, shut up.

- Get away from me.

- What did you say?

- Get off my foot! Ow.

TWITCHELL:
What are you doing?

I saw you do that!

You got it all wrong.

CHIEF:
Riley? Riley!

MacDOUGALL:
Break it up.

Break it up!

Mr. MacDougall.

Mr. MacDougall.

What's going on here?

TWITCHELL:
You saw it.

You're a witness. He hit me!

He struck an officer.

He was in on it, too.

MacDOUGALL:
All right.

Knock it off!

Did anybody see

what happened here?

I saw the whole thing, sir.

TWITCHELL:
How could you?

You were busy catching.

While I was

taking off my mask,

I looked up

and saw these two white hats.

They were wrestling

over a coconut.

All in fun, sir.

Mr. Twitchell evidently

thought they were fighting.

When he stepped between them,

he tumbled over a coconut...

and fell and hit his head

on... that tree.

No-nobody punched him.

Nobody laid a hand on him, sir.

It's all a pack of lies!

I'll get witnesses.

You'll all pay for this.

I'll put everybody on report

for this! You'll see.

You'll see.

All right. Break it up.

Back to your game.

Any noticeable good effects

from our afternoon on the beach?

Mostly bruises,

as far as I can see.

Mr. Twitchell's report

about his mouse...

would indicate

a riot took place.

I've been able to secure

a replacement for Twitchell.

Cut orders

relieving him from duty...

and send him ashore

for further assignment.

QUIGLEY:
Yes, sir.

- You wanted to see me, Captain?

- Oh, yes, Torgeson.

Come on. Sit down. Commander, I

want him off the ship tonight.

- Tonight, sir? But-

- Aye, aye, sir.

CAPTAIN:
Sit down.

- Coffee?

- Sure.

Two coffees.

My compliments on

procuring that fine hardwood...

from the navy sawmen ashore.

How much did you get?

I mean, 10 feet...

What, sir?

CAPTAIN:
I asked how much

hardwood did you get?

Oh.

That's almost enough...

to repair every landing craft

in the division.

Well, sir, a little extra

always comes in handy...

for trading purposes.

It ain't, uh-no.

It ain't as though there

wasn't plenty of it.

Island's lousy with it, sir.

Look here. Nice

little boat, huh?

Sure is.

Could you build

a boat like that?

Yes, sir.

If I had plans, I could.

CAPTAIN:
There's a description

and all specifications.

Could you build it from those?

- Yes, sir, I could.

- Good. Do so.

Huh?

CAPTAIN:
Take that along

and start building my sailboat.

You mean tonight, sir?

Right now, aboard ship, sir?

If you're capable

of building it...

and repairing our landing craft

at the same time.

You've ample materials.

I want it completed

at the earliest possible date.

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