Carry On Sergeant Page #7

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However, I hope when you get the other one up,

you'lI have better luck than I had.

- Good night.

- Good night, sarge.

Don't be daft, Herbert.

Characters like Grimshawe don't leave the army.

They can't. They've taken root.

Listen, I heard 'em talking about it.

Tomorrow's his last day in the army.

Well, best of British luck to the old b...

Oh, all right, then.

Perhaps he isn't such a bad old buzzard.

Best sergeant l ever served under.

Let's give him a present.

l know what he'd like. Us.

The Champion Platoon tomorrow.

What a hope.

Aye, he would like that. I heard him saying

just that to Corporal Copping.

No, it's impossible.

In any case, why should we knock ourselves out

after the way he's chased us around?

- When did he ever chase you, Andy?

- Or any of us, for that matter.

He's yelled a lot, but sergeants can't talk quietly.

If he'd wanted to, he could have had all of us

inside over and over again.

Yeah, that's right. l wonder why he didn't.

Excuse me.

Perhaps he's been trying

a sociological experiment too.

- Eh?

- As Miles said.

Grimshawe could have made life purgatory

for us. He didn't.

- Why?

- Why, Jim?

My theory is this.

With us, his last platoon,

Grimshawe tries the experiment

of deliberately putting a brake

on his disciplinary powers,

relying, instead, purely on his personality.

In my opinion,

such an experiment deserves success.

Boys...we shall be Champion Platoon tomorrow.

You're barmy.

We can but try.

If the others will cooperate. What do you say?

- Go on, boys! Try!

- OK.

What have we got to lose?

SAGE:
Nothing.

GOLlGHTLY.:
Come on, let's tell the others.

- Blimey. We'd forgotten Horace. That's torn it.

- Wait a minute.

Horace, we've decided to knock their eyes out

tomorrow, to come right out on top.

OK.

You know, everything.

Ropes, bayonet, grenades. The lot.

Yeah.

Ropes...

..bayonet...grenades.

The lot.

OK.

Cor! Nora!

You understand what I'm saying, Corporal,

don't you? l...

- Well?

- You're a man short, Sergeant.

- That's right. One man sick. Appendicitis.

- I'm taking his place.

- Who sent you?

- No-one. I'm volunteering.

On top of everything, this!

Well, what have we got to lose?

- All right, Brown, get in there.

- Thank you, Sergeant.

Well, I shan't be needing these chits any more,

Corporal.

I hope he's got his braces on.

Platoon!

Platoon, attention!

Move to the left in threes.

Left turn!

By the right, quick march!

I don't believe it.

Come on.

Left, left, left!

(Gunshots)

Number three gun, fire!

- 1 5 bulls.

- 1 5 bulls?

- Maximum.

- Maximum.

Well, carry on, Sergeant.

Detail!

Detail, change!

- Number one gun clear, sir!

- Number two gun clear, sir!

All right, boys! Show 'em what you can do.

En garde! Charge!

(They scream ferociously)

Charge!

(They scream ferociously)

Charge!

En garde! Charge!

(Screams)

En garde! Charge!

(They scream ferociously)

- En garde!

Very military.

Well done, lads. You're doing well.

And remember, it's our last chance.

So do your best.

Right? And good luck to all of you.

Right, brace up. Brace up.

Platoon!

Platoon, attention!

Platoon, slope arms!

Move to the left in threes!

Left turn!

By the right, quick march!

Parade...halt!

Doesn't Charlie look smart?

But look at my Horace.

Parade!

Parade... 'shun!

Slope arms!

Band, attention!

In threes, right...turn!

By the left, quick march!

(Military band stars playing)

Left turn!

Parade, left!

Number one platoon, eyes right!

Number two platoon, eyes right!

Eyes right!

Parade...halt!

Left turn!

Shoulder arms!

Stand at...ease!

Prize-giving for the 60th intake.

The Champion Platoon of the 60th intake

is Able Platoon.

Platoon Sergeant, Sergeant Grimshawe.

Here!

50 quid.

Cor blimey!

Well, this is the last time l shalI see you all.

You're as fine a body of men

as l ever have seen.

I'm proud of you. Broken all records.

Special recommendations. Outstanding. Sage.

- Sir!

- Recommended for training as armourer.

Sir!

- Bailey.

- Sir!

- Recommended for Education Corps.

- Sir!

- Strong.

- Sir!

- Recommended for Physical Training Instructor.

- Sir!

Brown.

We're sorry to lose you. But heartiest

congratulations. Remarkable persistence.

Succeeded in passing your preliminary

training test on the eve of your release.

Excuse me, sir. I'm not leaving altogether.

When my leave's over, I'm coming back.

As a regular.

Ah, we... What?

Oh, magnificent show!

- Well, enjoy your leave, Brown. You deserve it.

- Thank you, sir.

But all the lot of you,

all work and no play makes Jack...

Well, I think we all know what the army says

about Jack, what?

- Carry on, Sergeant.

- Sir!

Platoon!

Attention!

Platoon, dismissed!

Well, thank you very much.

And er...if you're ever Leighton Buzzard way,

you know, feel like looking in,

always pleased to see you.

Thank you, sir. I'll remember that.

- Goodbye, sir.

- Goodbye.

Good luck.

Where's the Sergeant?

Good old Herbert!

Excuse me, Sergeant. Er...this is for you.

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