Stalag 17 Page #9

Stosh and Harry push right up to trip wire. Stosh, plastered

with mud, goes completely berserk.

STOSH:

Hey -- Russki -- Russki! Look at

those bublichkis! Over here!

HARRY:

Comrade! Comrade! Otchi Tchorniya --

Otchi Tchorniya!

Stosh puts two fingers in his mouth and tries to whistle. He

gets his mouth full of mud. Spits out the mud. Searches madly

through his pockets and throws whatever he can find across

the fence.

STOSH:

Chewing gum -- chewing gum!

Some of the Russian women break the ranks to pick up the

goodies that come flying over. The German guards push them

back. The women smile at the Americans and wave.

STOSH:

(at the top of his

lungs)

Look at me! I'm your baby!

(to Harry)

Get a load of that blonde one! Built

like a brick Kremlin!

HARRY:

Hey -- Comrade! Over here! This is

Harry Shapiro -- the Volga Boatman

of Barrack four!

STOSH:

Lay off! The blonde is mine!

The women are being led away by the guards.

STOSH:

(screaming)

Hey, Olga -- Volga -- wait for me!

He takes off blindly toward the women, trips immediately

over the warning wire and falls flat on his face in the mud

again.

Up in the goon tower the guard swivels the machine gun and

yells down.

GUARD:

Zurueck oder wir schiessen! Zurueck!

Harry frantically grabs Stosh by the feet and pulls him back,

under the wire.

STOSH:

Let me go! Let me go!

HARRY:

They'll shoot you, Animal!

He lies right on top of him, holding him by the wrists.

STOSH:

I don't care! Let me go!

From OFF come the SOUNDS of a dishpan being beaten and shouts

of "Chow!" Some of the P.O.W.s start to go back to the

barracks.

HARRY:

It's chow, Animal! Chow!

STOSH:

Who wants to eat? I just wanna get

over there!

HARRY:

No you don't! You don't want any

broads with boots on!

STOSH:

I don't care if they wear galoshes!

HARRY:

You want Betty Grable!

STOSH:

Let me go!

HARRY:

(yelling)

Betty Grable!

Stosh's face lights up.

HARRY:

Animal! When the war's over, remember

I told you I'd fix you up with Betty

Grable!

STOSH:

Yeah? How you going to fix me up

with Betty Grable?

HARRY:

How? We go to California. I got a

cousin that's working for the Los

Angeles Gas Company. That's how we

get the address, see? Isn't that

clever? I take you up to her house

and ring the doorbell and say,

'Congratulations, Miss Grable. We

have voted you the girl we'd most

like to be behind barbed wire with,

and I'm here to present the award'.

STOSH:

What's the award?

HARRY:

What d'ya think, jerko! You're the

award!

STOSH:

Me? What if she don't want me?

HARRY:

If she don't want you, she don't get

anything.

STOSH:

(grabbing him)

You're teasing me again!

HARRY:

(gagging)

Let go, Animal! It's chow! We'll

miss chow!

Stosh relaxes his hold and drops him like a limp rag. They

scramble to their feet and run off towards Barrack 4.

INT. BARRACK

Chow time. Most of the men sit around eating. Only a few are

still in line. They stand before a washtub, from which Triz

ladles out a thin brew. Then each man gets a pitiful slice

of sawdust bread, cut by Blondie at the table.

1ST G.I.

(in chow line)

What's this stuff anyhow? Manicure

water?

2ND G.I.

This is what I like -- a hearty meal.

3RD G.I.

They finally found the formula: an

Ersatz of an Ersatz.

Hoffy, back in the line with Joey, carrying both chow cans.

HOFFY:

What's holding up the parade?

4TH G.I.

Are you supposed to drink this stuff

or shave?

DUKE:

(next in line)

Drink.

(tastes the stuff)

Shave.

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