The Americanization of Emily
Hi, Harry.
It'll only be a few moments, sir.
Put that hand luggage in the automobile.
- Paul?
- Yeah.
Put the footlockers in the jeep.
Everything else goes in the two-and-a-half.
Unloading shouldn't take long.
You won't be more than
a few minutes behind us.
I'll see you back at the hotel.
Harry, is everything set at the hotel?
Hiya, Charlie.
Adm. Jessup's riding
in the second car, sir.
Adm. Jessup, you remember Mr. Parks.
- Bus, I'll check on the unloading...
- See you inside.
Glad you're back, Charlie.
We'll go around to the rear entrance.
Will you put this stuff in my room, Paul?
Hello, Tom.
- Nice to have you back in London, sir.
- Thank you.
There's a crate of eggs,
four pounds of bacon, four tins of coffee...
marmalade, six pounds of butter,
and ten pounds of oranges.
- Would you check those for bruises, Tom?
- I will, sir.
The Admiral will have breakfast
tomorrow at 7:
30...with Capt. Ellender and Cmdr. Cummings.
- Here's how everyone likes their eggs.
- Thank you, sir.
I'll sign this in.
- You pick up the wash and dry cleaning.
- Right.
Get some sleep.
You can't win them all, Commander.
Charlie, the Admiral wants to have
a little spread tonight.
Then bridge later with
Generals Hallerton and Waterson.
General Waterson doesn't play bridge.
Yeah, but he'll want a partner anyway.
Try to dig up a couple of someones
to complete the foursome.
Here's the menu.
Steak, avocado salad, ice cream,
appropriate wine.
Call the motor pool and get a driver,
will you?
We're going to stay in London
at least for a while.
- Until the balloon goes up.
- What balloon?
D- day. The invasion of Europe.
- You might as well set up house.
- Okay.
Motor pool, please.
Gen. Waterson likes redheaded partners?
Yes, as I recall.
Paul, never mind.
I'll go by the motor pool myself.
Avocado salad. That's a new one.
Hi, Charlie.
Sheila, could you be a redhead
by 5:
30 this afternoon?I could manage it, love.
- Am I to drive, or am I to dress?
- You'll have to dress.
It's for dinner and a bit of mauling.
A two-star general who usually passes out
at 11:
30.Two-star general.
Push on to SHAEF, Pat.
Two Navy captains. Wait in front, will you?
- Here you are, Charlie.
- Bye, Pat.
I need a driver to take me to Hendon.
How about Sheila?
I'm sorry, love. I'm afraid she's on call.
Emily, take Cmdr. Madison
over to Hendon airport.
If I'm to be a redhead,
I'll need a new dress, don't you agree?
I'll be in my room by lunch.
You are a love, Charlie.
Here's your ticket. This is yours, love.
Rear Admiral. Go to Hammersmith.
Rear Admiral?
I shall be up in my new dress
during lunch, love.
Is Lt. Hayworth still
Navy Supply Officer here?
No, sir. There's a Lt. Wade there now, sir.
Thank you, sir.
It might help you to know
that Lt. Wade is from Alabama.
Thank you.
Drop around my hotel tomorrow at 3:00.
I got some bottles for you, anyway.
What kind of bottles?
What kind of bottles would I have for
a Confederate kinsman in an alien land?
- Don't tell me.
- I.W. Harper.
You can't get bourbon over here.
You got three bottles.
You're quite a dog-robber,
ain't you, Madison?
Let's just make sure
we read each other clear, Wade.
I'll take care of you...
but, Lieutenant,
my admiral sets the best table...
of anybody in
the European theater of operations...
including the Supreme Commander.
I want the prime of everything
you've got in here.
When I ask for steak, I mean aged,
two inches thick...
corn-fed, that you can cut
with a sharp look.
I'm setting up house, now.
For today, I want six dozen sirloin strips...
one crate of oranges,
one crate of grapefruit...
six rib roasts, three Swiss hams,
six gallons of ice cream...
and one gallon chocolate syrup.
I expect to be favored.
If any other admiral's dog-robber
complains...
tell him my admiral will cover for you...
all the way to the Secretary of the Navy.
If you do right, I'll see that you get...
the Legion of Merit with clusters.
That's for your gallant service.
If you fink on my admiral, man...
The last supply officer,
who sent my admiral a chewy steak...
is now at the North Pole
doing polar research.
You read me, Lieutenant?
I read you, Commander.
If you'll just have
that sweet young thing...
drive that Buick around to the dock
while we load you up.
You Americans are really enjoying
this war, aren't you?
Ma'am?
Most English families haven't seen
that many oranges or eggs in years.
But it's one big Shriners' Convention
to you Yanks, isn't it?
Well, that's swell, miss.
- Barham.
- On to the hotel, Miss Barham.
It's nearly lunch.
Since when did you start asking
for ration coupons, Alfie?
Bienvenue.
That's the avocados.
It's too bloody gorgeous, Charlie.
I need a girl, Sheila.
A bright, bridge-playing girl.
Very crusty, elegant...
British diction calculated
to bring out the upstart in the American.
Who can handle herself at a dinner table
and play bridge like an assassin.
Whatever happened to Alice Luddens?
She's married off, love,
to a lieutenant in the paratroops.
Can't be too choosy, I suppose,
if you're a widow with two kids.
Can I go and try it on, Charlie?
The balloon is going up any day now.
- What balloon?
- D-day, old man.
Invasion of Europe.
Any day now 1,000,000 men
are gonna hit the beaches of France...
in the greatest battle in history.
Do you know any girls
who play a good game of bridge?
What do you think, Charlie?
Yeah. It's worth a try.
- Harry, let me borrow this for a while.
- Hey.
It's a matter of State.
- Charlie, what happened to you?
- Knock off.
An old wound, Commander?
Yes. A bit of flak I picked up
flying for the RAF in 1940.
Acts up every now and then.
Pity.
Miss Barham, do you play bridge?
Yes, I do. Why?
Adm. Jessup would like you
to be his guest...
for dinner and bridge this evening.
I see.
Just dinner and bridge. Nothing else.
I'll have you delivered
back to your quarters by 10:30.
No, thank you.
If you don't need me, Commander,
may I take my lunch?
You're something of a prig, Miss Barham.
I don't mean to be.
Sheila? Do you think I'm a prig?
Lord, yes, love.
You've been shattering us
with your virtue...
ever since you joined this motor pool.
- I've been that awful?
- Bloody virgin goddess herself.
The fact is, I'm anything but.
I'm grotesquely sentimental.
I fall in love at the drop of a hat.
That's why I gave up hospital driving.
All those men...
moaning in the back of the ambulance.
Especially the lot from Africa.
I used to read to them in my off-hours.
When they were healed,
and being sent back to the Front...
they'd come looking for me to spend
their last nights of leave with them.
Little hotel rooms.
Bed and breakfast for a guinea.
I paid the guinea myself,
more often than not.
But I couldn't say no to them, could I?
I'd just lost my husband at Tobruk.
And I was overwhelmed with tenderness
for all dying men.
As I say, I'm grotesquely sentimental.
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"The Americanization of Emily" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 22 Dec. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/the_americanization_of_emily_2728>.
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