Bombardier
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1943
- 99 min
- 81 Views
I want you to know about
a new kind of American soldier,
the most important
of all our fighting men today.
He is most important
because upon him,
finally depends the success of any
mission in which he participates.
in the world, with its combat crew,
takes him into battle,
through weather,
through enemy opposition, just so he
may have 30 seconds over the target.
In those 30 seconds,
he must vindicate
the greatest responsibility
ever placed upon an individual
soldier in line of duty.
I want you to know about him,
and about those who had the faith
and vision and foresight to bring
him into being,
to fit him for his task,
long months before our war began.
"Who is he? This soldier who rides
alone, who must think alone,
"and who must act alone in a war
which can be won or lost by the..."
EXPLOSION:
DRONE OF PLANES:
That's the way the German
dive bombers do it.
I think you'll all admit they're
good at it, and if events should
lead us into this war
I don't think anyone who will deny
the fact that we have got
to be better.
If events should force us into this
war, there's only one thing to do -
train pilots by the thousands -
hundreds of thousands.
Sacrifice everything else.
Well, gentlemen, you've just
seen one side of the subject
under discussion. Any comments?
I'll argue with anyone who doesn't
realise that someday
Bombardiers will be recognised
as the spearhead of our force.
Plane crews, ground crews,
the factories here at home,
to provide a Bombardier with
30 seconds to hit a target.
I don't want to seem opinionated,
but after one year as observer
with the Royal Air Force,
my unqualified opinion is
that Bombardiers should be trained
by their own pilots and squadron.
That's the system the English and
Germans use and I've seen it work.
Yeah, I know - you've seen a lot,
but perhaps there's something
that you have never seen work.
And what might that be, Major Davis?
Our bombsight, affectionately
known as the Golden Goose.
The Golden Goose, huh? I hope I don't
end up talking nursery rhymes.
Put it on the table, men.
DOOR SLAMS:
All right, we'll have a look at it.
UNZIPPING:
Captain Oliver...
meet the Golden Goose.
Where do I put my penny to
see the goose lay an egg?
Right in there, and you get it
back if it doesn't lay the bomb
right on the top of a barrel at
24,000ft or dot an "i" at 18,000ft.
You're looking at a bombsight to
put anything in Europe out of date.
The way to hit is to have pilots
who'll bring a ship
so close to the target that a bomb
can't miss, and I say train them.
Forget about everything else.
Captain Oliver, you'll see the day
when a pilot will be nothing more
than a taxi driver
to drive a Bombardier to his target.
Not from where I'm sitting, Major.
Gentlemen,
you're my witnesses.
I'm challenging Captain Oliver
to a bombing duel.
Dive-bombing versus high-altitude
precision bombing.
This is something new.
The Military Affairs Committee
should have front-row seats.
What do you say, Buck -
is it a deal?
It's a deal, Chick.
Captain Oliver to Operations.
292 observation post,
ready for my attack release.
This is your last chance, Captain.
Yes, sir - I've just been warming up.
This is it.
DRONE OF PLANE:
What a little anti-aircraft
couldn't do to that baby.
EXPLOSION:
All right, Major - you're up.
All right, gentlemen.
I'll be right up there, 20,000ft.
You won't be able to see me -
just keep your eye on the target.
Where is he?
I can't see anything.
We were under the impression
this was a bombing demonstration -
not an altitude test.
This is a precision bombing
mission at 20,000ft.
And we're lucky that Major Davis
is up there instead of down here,
talking your arm off about it.
Navigator, what do you
think of precision bombing?
I don't know, sir.
Don't know, huh?
Bombardier to pilot,
Bombardier to pilot.
Altitude 20,130ft.
Let's fly a 90-degree heading.
Ready to open bomb bay doors.
"All right, sir.
"On course and level, your ship."
Bombs away.
DISTANT WHINING:
WHINING INTENSIFIES
EXPLOSION:
You don't know, huh?
Well, he showed me.
That's remarkable.
Impressive, General. Thank you.
Lucky stiff.
Read that back.
Burton Hughes, Hughes Field,
Almansor, New Mexico.
Dear Burt, when the securing of
property for the new training centre
first received approval,
I immediately tossed your name
in the hat. That's right.
All I had to do really was...
to remind them that Hughes Field
belonged to General Hughes, your dad,
the greatest man
ever to climb into a cockpit.
So you can blame me for turning
your highly respectable
civilian flying school
into a Bombardiers' training post.
It all started as a crazy experiment
perpetrated by an old friend of mine,
Major Chick Davis.
Personally, I'm afraid he's due
for a nosedive.
Whoever heard of building a vault
to keep at trick glass eye in?
They'll probably use it for
a mausoleum one of these days,
to bury poor old Chick and his dream.
I suppose Chick's assistants
have already got the first classes
and almost any day now Major Davis
will be arriving to take charge.
How do you like it here, Sergeant?
Very well, sir.
We'll change that - from now
on it's the Bombardier School.
Hello, Major. Hello, Chaplain.
Long time no see.
Yes, it's been too long.
How's it going, Lieutenant? At ease.
Pretty good I think, sir.
The first class graduates three weeks
from today. Morale seems good.
Good, good, good,
but why all the women?
We find them more efficient
in this type of work.
Maybe, but it'll be tough getting
used to it. I never soldiered
with women.
Where do I park? Or do I work here
for morale? Right in here, Major.
That's it, gentlemen,
I'll see you on the line.
You're kidding, aren't you?
Don't blame me, sir.
Oh, my. Do you think
the Major would like some tea?
Do you think you'd like a chew
of my tobacco? Don't be silly.
It's just as unlogical.
Well, hello.
Who hired you? What's your name?
My name is Burton Hughes.
After her grandfather, General
Burton Hughes. So you're the fella
that owns the place?
I did, but I've turned it over
to my brother Tom.
That their father
in that picture over there.
General Tom Hughes,
standing right by me.
All right, Sergeant,
leave a couple of desks in here,
but get some hard chairs,
after all this is the Army -
not a sorority house.
And take Grandfather's picture down.
He said the Wright Brothers
couldn't fly them. Yes.
Leave that one up - he flew
and bombed them. Yes, sir.
Leave the filing cabinets here.
I'll be working 25 hours a day.
Leave a mirror to shave.
And, Sergeant,
get everything else out of here!
And I mean everything.
Just a minute, Major. If you'll
examine the lease, you'll find
that I still hold a job here.
All right, so you
still hold a job here...
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"Bombardier" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 23 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/bombardier_4451>.
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