Carry On ... Follow That Camel Page #6

Surely the sheikh

himself is allowed in?

No.

Then what's the good

in having them all?

It's like playing cricket with no

bails. There's nothing

to knock off.

You don't understand.

Whenever he feels like a

game, he sends for one.

He don't travel. He just

plays on his own ground.

You mean that all the while we're

in here, then, we're safe.

That's right. I'm afraid we're

stuck in here. What a pity.

And now, girls, how about

some of that Turkish delight?

Don't frighten them, Sergeant.

I do apologise for the

intrusion, ladies, but

I can assure you that

we will do you no harm.

Here, stop making

promises I can't keep.

What's all that noise?

I'm trying to sleep.

I was having such a lovely dream,

full of fabulous men,

all travelling alone.

- Ha-ha-ha.

- Jane.

- Is that you, Abdul?

- No, it's me, Bo.

Bo to you, too.

Jane, what's the matter with

you? No, it's me. Bo West.

That Bo?

Oh, fancy seeing you here.

Oh. Oh, kiss me, Bo.

Jane, please.

You men in there.

Hearken to me.

Quiet. Let's hearken.

Come out of there, and I give you

my word I will spare your lives.

If not, eventually,

you will all die.

Horribly.

It's Abdul. He's a frightful dear.

Wants me to be his number 13.

- Number 13?

- Wife, you know.

We might as well surrender.

Certainly not. I'm

not leaving Jane

here to become part

of a baker's dozen.

Well, it's better than being dead,

isn't it? Besides,

13 ain't too bad.

She'll have 12 days off.

No. No, we've got to get help.

One of you will have to get away.

Not me, sir. My place

is by your side.

Thank you, Simpson. It's

up to you, Sergeant.

- Thanks a lot. What do I do?

- I've been thinking.

We'll go out, and you creep

under the flap and run.

Well, how do I do that?

Grab a horse and

stampede the rest.

Sire. I... What am I

saluting you for?

All this grass, no

time left to graze.

Come out of that tent.

It's all right, we're coming out.

Bye-bye, Bo.

Seize them.

There are only two.

Where is the other infidel?

Look, Effendi.

Stop.

Let him go.

It worked. Nocker, old boy, I

think you've pulled it off.

You'll be a real

hero now. That's it.

Real. Ho. Good boy,

Nocker. You've done it.

They'll write books about

you. "Nocker of the

Foreign Legion." That's

what they'll call you.

I like that sound. Nocker

of the Foreign Legion.

Jolly good.

Aha.

Aaah...

Did you ever have

one of those days

when nothing seemed to go right?

Aaah. Here. Here. Whoa.

Here.

So, let me understand

quite clearly

what you have told us, madame.

You say that four nights ago

Sergeant Nocker was in your café

with these other two legionnaires.

- Correct?

- That is right.

Then he go off with

this woman. Corktip.

Ye... yes. And you

further say that

he is still with

this woman. Correct?

Of course. Where

else, the dirty pig?

So, all the time he was

supposedly out on patrol alone,

he was, in reality,

staying with you.

- Correct?

- That is right.

I tell you, for years

he has been with me.

And then this woman

come along and...

Perhaps you would

like to use this.

No, thanks, I went before I came.

Yes. Very well. Thank

you for coming forward

with this information.

You may go now.

Ok.

I like you. Why don't you come

and see Zigzig some time?

I think I've got all I want

from you, madame, thank you.

You think so?

Well, perhaps there are

a couple of points

I'd like to go over

with you later.

Good. Soon?

Interesting, Le Pice.

Very interesting.

What is her name?

Mon Kommandant, her

name is Zigzig.

Zigzig? Oh, that's a strange name.

It is an old Arabic

word for serving woman,

meaning, "She who handeth

it out on a platter."

Yes, and all the time

she's been handing

it out on the platter

to Sergeant Nocker.

Oh my God. What fools he

has been making of us.

I know. All these

stories about lone

patrol and killing

hundreds of Riffs.

And all the time,

he and she were...

Yes. And I've been giving

him medals for it.

Open up. It's me. Sergeant Nocker.

Open up.

Kommandant. Kommandant.

Sergeant Nocker's back.

Quick, Le Pice.

Sergeant Nocker reporting

back from patrol, sir.

And what, I wonder, have you got

to report this time, Sergeant?

Bad news, sir. Fort Zuassantneuf,

it's going to be attacked.

And how did you acquire

that information?

Yes, sir. Legionnaires

West, Simpson

and me were taken

prisoners by them.

- After a stiff fight, of course.

- Of course.

Yes, we were taken to the Oasis El

Nooki, but I managed,

by sheer audacity,

to escape and come

back to warn you, sir.

Four days on foot across

the burning hot sand, sir.

Enough. This is unbelievable.

Yes, it was quite a feat, sir.

Well, you heard the Kommandant.

Get the tray. Get the medals.

- Nein, nein, nein.

- One medal will be enough, sir.

You will have no more medals

from me, Schweinhund.

Schweinhund?

You have made a fool of

me for the last time.

Killing 53 tribesmen

single-handed?

Rescuing legionnaires

from certain death?

Lies, lies, lies.

Sir, what are you doing? I got

those medals for bravery.

No, not for bravery, but for

jiggery-pokery. Take him away.

What happened?

What did I say?

Herr Kommandant.

About Sergeant Nocker, sir. He's

been there for three days, now.

He has decided to tell the truth?

I'm afraid not,

sir. He still keeps

insisting on some ridiculous story

about West and Simpson and an

English woman being held prisoner.

You did not tell me this before.

An English woman, you

say? Not... not...

Lady Jane.

I believe that was her name, sir.

Capitaine Le Pice, turn

out the entire company.

- Yes, yes, mon Kommandant.

- Full packs, arms,

- ammunition.

- Yes, yes.

And release Sergeant Nocker.

Yes, yes.

Well, stop yes outing

and get on with it.

Legion, left turn.

Legion, forward.

On. On.

Faster. Faster.

No stopping. On your

feet, you scum. On. On.

Look.

The oasis.

What's happened?

Where's everyone gone?

Where's Lady Jane? Where is she?

I warned you, if you have brought

us here on a wild-goose's chase...

Sir, I gave you my

word. They were here.

Kommandant. Look.

Vultures.

- Vultures? You don't think...?

- Oh, I don't like this.

They've got a bone to

pick with someone.

No, no. Not my sweetheart, Jane.

Halt.

Look, sir.

It's all right. He's

still breathing.

I do not care. Where

is my sweetheart?

Oh. Alas, poor Jane,

I knew her well.

Aw, come on, sir, that's

a skull of a man.

- How can you tell?

- By the jawbone.

A woman's gets worn down from

the constant ya-ta-ta ya-ta-ta.

- Then what's happened to her?

- Mother.

Mothe...? Mothe...?

It's me, Bo. Nocker.

Poor devil, he's half

out of his mind.

He's been under this

sun for a week.

Yes, but I think

he's trying to tell

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