Hell's Angels Page #3

Well, come on then.

Are we here?

Well, it's number 27.

Wanna come up

for a cigarette and a drink?

Oh, really, you must be

awfully tired. No, I'm not.

Come see my room. I've only had

a place of my own for a week.

It's a new toy.

What a baby you are.

Alley-oop.

All right.

Well, this is jolly.

Sit down

and I'll get you a drink.

Thanks.

Say when.

Whoa.

When! When!

Would you be shocked

if I put on something more comfortable?

I'll try to survive.

Well, are you

more comfortable now?

Yes, are you?

Oh, yes.

You know, it seems strange being here like this

after hearing Roy rave about you for months.

Does Roy rave? Oh, rather. He idolizes you.

Oh, I do wish he wouldn't.

It makes me feel guilty.

I can understand his raving

now. Oh, don't be silly.

You're not a bit

like Roy, are you?

I should say not.

Roy's frightfully high-minded.

He doesn't approve of me.

He wouldn't approve of me either

if he knew what I'm really like.

Doesn't he know?

No.

When I'm with Roy,

I'm the way Roy wants me to be.

That's caddish, isn't it?

But I can't help it.

I understand.

Roy wouldn't.

May I ask you

a very personal question?

Yes.

Do you love Roy?

No, not really. Not the way

Roy wants me to love him.

I can't. Roy's love means

marriage and children...

and never anyone but Roy.

I couldn't bear that.

I wanna be free.

I wanna be gay

and have fun.

Life's short, and I wanna

live while I'm alive.

I know, that...

that's the way I feel too.

I...

I think I'd better go.

Must you?

I really should.

Pull.

Cold in here now,

isn't it?

Have you a match?

Why so gloomy?

God, I'm rotten.

I can't see it.

Can't you?

Well, then you're rotten too.

What do you mean?

And Roy worships you.

You!

Well?

Don't you make yourself sick...

you and Roy.

God, that's funny.

Get out of here!

Don't worry.

I can't get out fast enough.

Get out!

And stay out!

Where have you been?

Oh, I, uh...

I stopped at a...

at a bar

after I took Helen home.

Oh.

How'd you like her?

Oh, she's all right.

Pass in a crowd, eh?

I daresay she would.

Just what do you mean by that?

Listen, Roy, let me tell you something.

Even if it hurts.

Yes?

I wouldn't be so idealistic

about Helen if I were you.

And why not?

Well, I...

I just wouldn't, that's all.

Well, why not? Oh, I don't know. Forget it.

Never mind crawling.

Out with it.

Listen, Roy, I tell you.

Women are all the same.

You look at every woman

as a barmaid.

You don't know anything

about decent women.

Oh, all right.

You know it all then.

Oh, you've said enough.

Shut up.

Karl. Karl!

Zep overhead!

- South by east.

- Righto!

Yes, sir. Yes, sir. Right.

All lights out, sir.

Lights out, quick!

Zeppelin overhead! Zeppelin

overhead! Everybody out!

Hey, come on, Monte.

Zeppelin overhead.

Come on, Monte. What's the

matter with you? Get up.

We don't all have to go.

I'm tired. Oh, shut up.

- Come on. Let's go. Hurry up. Come on.

- Be right with you, Elliot.

Come on, Monte. Get up. Come

on. Let's go. Hurry. All right.

Karl...

Karl.

Danke.

Well, so long there, Tommy. All

right, old chap. Good luck, Elliot.

Go get 'em, Monte.

Good-bye.

Good luck, Roy.

Right.

Perfect.

Look, Roy, there she goes.

Let's go.

Kapitn?

Kapitn. Kapitn!

Kapitn! Kapitn!

Jawohl!

Hey, Roy, they've hit our motor.

Cut the gas.

We'll burn to death!

Roy!

Oh, shut up!

Well, this is a mess, all right.

Yeah, just our luck.

Lucky we weren't both killed.

Well, we're through.

Herr Kapitn.

Look at it, Monte.

Roy, it's falling!

Look at that, Roy.

Great, isn't it?

They're done for.

Look out! Run!

Just a minute.

Why the blazes don't you

look where you're going, sir?

I'm sorry, sir.

Isn't it customary to salute

one's superior officer?

Thank you. What is your name,

sir? Lieutenant Roy Rutledge.

Make a note of that.

Yes, sir.

Would you like to try it

and find out?

They are. They glisten in the sun.

What the hell you trying to do?

It took me three hours to write that.

You're nothing but a pest anyhow.

Sit down. Oh, don't, Bruce.

You shouldn't smoke so many.

What difference does it make?

You know it's bad for you.

Buy a chocolate, miss.

Change, miss.

Please.

That's a good boy. What a life

it would be married to you.

Oh, you don't fancy it? Beastly. No smokes.

Think of all the money we'd save.

What would we spend it on?

Oh, a diamond dog collar.

For me?

No. I'd buy a muzzle for you. You wouldn't

spoil my beautiful mustache, would you?

No. We'd keep that

in the parlor under glass.

Hello, Helen.

Oh, hello, Roy.

Roy, I'd like you to meet

Captain Redfield. Lieutenant Rutledge.

How do you do?

How do you do?

Beastly weather.

Yes, isn't it.

- You'll get used to it.

- Thanks.

Gee, it's great to see you again, Helen.

It's been four whole days.

Really?

- Have you been over long?

- Three weeks.

Oh. Three weeks.

Everything all right up your way? Oh, yes.

Your squadron near here?

Twenty miles up the line.

Twenty miles. That far.

- You chaps have it rather soft, haven't you?

- Do you think so?

Well, I mean to say being able to

dash about the countryside and all that.

Wish I'd picked the R.F.C.

Well, why didn't you?

Roy.

Well, I must be going.

Oh. Don't go.

I think I'd better.

Good-bye, Helen, and don't

forget your promise. I won't.

Who's that bag of wind? Would you mind

not talking about my friends like that?

Oh, now, Helen, please.

Oh, you were perfectly beastly to him.

I'm terribly sorry.

Guess my nerves are a bit raw.

Things haven't been so easy

this last week.

Oh, you've been fighting?

Did you shoot down any Boche?

Yes. I managed to get a couple.

Really? How thrilling.

Tell me about it.

Well, there's really nothing much to

tell. Three bars of chocolate, miss.

Oh, Jymes. Oh, Jymes.

Bread, Jymes. We want bread.

We want bread!

Coming, sir. Coming!

Did you ever try hurrying, Jymes?

Sorry, sir, but I stopped to dig

a few of the cockroaches out of it, sir.

Well, put it down.

Well, where's the bread?

Did you ever try hurrying, sir?

Jymes, more bread.

Drown the cockroaches this time.

Yes, sir.

Jymes, what's the taste in this soup?

I can't say, sir.

It's not soup, it's soap.

I think it's shoe polish.

Sorry, sir. Cook said the soup

was a bit weak tonight.

Maybe you taste the disinfectant

in the water, sir. Oh.

Well, strike me blind,

it's a hair.

Wash it off and wear it, Baldy.

Hello, you chaps.

Hello, Monte. How goes it?

Still no news of Harry?

No.

Somebody always gets it

on the night patrol.

What do you think, Marryat?

You saw it happen.

Is there any chance

he got down alive?

No, I don't think so.

The searchlights got him.

We were flying low and they heard us.

We started to climb, but it was too late.

Shrapnel began bursting all around him.

Two bursts caught him and he started to drop.

It was awful to see him down there, twisting

and diving... crippled, always dropping.

Trying every way to get clear of

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