Major Dundee Page #3

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and I would help.

Yeah, but where in Mexico?

The children?

Well, they're skinny,

but doing better than you'd expect.

Making their own arrows now.

That's Riago who rode in with you, isn't it?

They all look alike to you, Amos?

I asked you a question, Sam.

That's Riago.

Where'd you find him?

Didn't. He found me.

He said after the massacre

he hit for the bush, stayed on their trail...

figured I'd be along sooner or later.

I believe him, Amos.

Who's the other one?

He's got a personal score to settle.

Seems old Charriba wouldn't take him

along with him on this last raid.

Said he couldn't be trusted.

Now he's got his mind set

on killing the old man.

Do you expect me to believe these Apaches

will turn against their own families?

Track down their own people?

Why not?

Everyone else seems to be doing it.

Lt. Brannin didn't trust Riago. Right, Ryan?

Yes, sir.

I'm afraid I go along with that, Sam.

Well, you go along with Lt. Brannin then.

Well, you go along without me.

Sam Potts.

Looks like the Union jackets

you gave us didn't quite fit, Major.

So I see.

The last day was spent getting

acquainted with our comrades-in-arms.

Learning how to handle the pack animals

with sureness and dispatch.

And learning the character of our officers.

Troop, fall in!

Foot soldiers,

I want a company of twos on my right.

Cavalry, fall in 20 paces in front of me.

I want a column of twos on my right!

Line up here.

Get that mule out of there!

Fall them in with the artillery,

Column of twos on my right!

Fall in!

If I tell you one more time,

you're court-martialed!

Why don't you find a horse and mount up,

Lieutenant Graham?

You don't seem

to be doing very well on foot.

Mount up!

November 7, and we were ready,

all who volunteered.

Civilians, criminals, Southerners,

and Negroes.

Gentlemen,

we've given the Major our parole...

and we will serve him until I say we will not.

And until that time...

he will be your commanding officer

and will be treated as such.

And any sign of disrespect to him

will be taken as a personal insult by me.

Don't worry none, Uncle Ben,

when the time comes...

we'll turpentine that caulky,

chicken-picking Yankee.

I am not your uncle,

you redneck peckerwood.

And one more word out of you

and you'll end this campaign in chains.

Attention!

Good luck, Frank.

Give my regards to the General.

I mean for you to have that pleasure

within the week, Amos.

If you don't, good luck.

I have but three orders of march:

If I signal you to come, you come.

If I signal you to charge, you charge.

And if I signal you to run,

you follow me and run like hell.

Move them out, Lieutenant.

- Twos right!

- Twos right!

- Left turn!

- Left turn!

- Whistle me a tune, son.

- Yes, sir.

November 18.

We are now in Texas approaching Mexico.

And the Major

does not mean to be surprised...

by Confederate patrols out of Fort Davis.

- No fires tonight, Sergeant.

- Yes, sir.

Trooper Hadley,

you are not part of my gun crew.

Cold coffee again.

It's 50 miles to the border,

and 86 to Fort Davis.

I wonder if we'll make it.

Make what, Sergeant Chillum?

Make it back to where we come from,

Captain.

We'll make it. It's just a question of time.

It was just after dawn and we were starting

for the Rio Grande when Riago returned.

I still don't trust him.

- Twos right!

- Major.

Says he got close enough

to smell the stink of many white men.

I wager they're waiting for us

at the river, Amos.

- We'd better walk on water.

- Let's find out what we're made of.

Boy!

Full gallop, son. We'll let those rebels

know there's a Yankee army come to call.

Troop, halt!

Mr. Potts. Sergeant Gomez.

First 12 men across as skirmishers.

- Troop right, roll!

- Lieutenant Graham, move them out!

Column of twos.

Confederate cavalry, Lieutenant.

We don't have much time.

Your word's worth about

as much as your cause.

- Then why don't you release him from it?

- Ben, you gave it, you break it.

And be damned to you.

- What do you want from us anyway?

- I've got what I want, Sergeant.

I've got his word.

- Sergeant Chillum.

- Sir.

- Move them out.

- Which way, Captain?

To Mexico, you bloody idiot!

November 19. We are in Mexico...

November 19. We are in Mexico...

and this day's events

have made it clear to everyone...

that the Major's present war is not

with the South, but with the Apache.

- Lunge!

- That's very good, Aesop.

Thank you, sir.

But as Napoleon said, only thunderbolts

can be preferred to cannon.

- Good night.

- Good night, sir.

Order arms.

Thank you, Priam.

Boy, I'm speaking to you!

You're forgetting your manners, n*gger.

Come on over here and pull off my boots.

Lieutenant Graham.

Check the pickets.

Did you hear me, boy?

Do it, boy, now.

Let me, son.

Let go off my leg!

Preacher, you sure kick up a lot of dust

with your sermon.

Don't forget your footgear, sonny.

- You started it, now finish it.

- No, we're gonna finish it.

By doggies, Preacher,

now we're gonna get in line for you.

- I'm gonna cut me a piece of you first.

- You southern trash sit down!

Was you talking to me, Sergeant?

Now maybe you don't know it,

but you're fixing to get tried.

You and all the rest of your bluebellies.

Trooper!

Mr. Aesop, we would like to compliment you

and your men...

on the way you handled the river crossing

this afternoon.

Thank you, sir.

That gesture was necessary.

I'm sorry it was so painful for you.

Mr. Aesop is a fine soldier.

It won't happen again.

What happened is what it's all about, Ben.

If it was as simple as that, Amos.

We can take care of our own.

If you can, you waited too long to do it.

All you people, all the way down the line.

"You people"?

I'm not going to thank you for keeping

your word this afternoon at the river.

You were obliged to.

But it wasn't easy, and I respect you for it.

I don't need respect from a man who took

his kin to fight against their own brothers.

I took soldiers to fight for their country.

- You betrayed it.

- What country have I to betray?

I'm fighting for the only country I have left,

and I kill men in a hopeless war for it.

But not men who were my neighbours

and my friends.

Friends.

The best friend you ever had

was the man who got you into West Point.

He was killed with the 2nd Michigan

in Chickamauga last winter.

- Did you know that?

- I knew that, Amos.

You're a would-be cavalier,

an Irish potato farmer with a plumed hat...

fighting for a white-columned

plantation house...

you never had and never will.

How exactly do you see yourself,

Major Dundee?

Have you ever stopped to think why

they made you a jailer instead of a soldier?

December 22, 1864.

We are five weeks into Mexico...

and have lost all contact with the Apache.

Even the scout, Samuel Potts, admits this,

and I'm glad.

I wish to avenge the massacre,

but I remember it too well, and I'm afraid.

How can we catch the wind

or destroy an enemy we never see?

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