The Hill Page #2

- I don't need a drink before I...

- Your kind always need a drink.

McGrath, I've a dozen like you inside here.

They all came in here thinking

they were going to run this place.

I've just doubled a couple of them out.

- Went absent, Stevens?

- Yes, sir.

- Didn't fancy the sound of gunfire?

- It wasn't that, sir. I was...

Tried to stow away on a boat

leaving for England.

No, I was trying to get home.

You see, sir, it was because...

Not very smart of you, Stevens.

The smart thing to do is to go

to the airport. Give a Yank 20 quid,

and he'd fly you to Hong Kong

if you wanted it.

- No, it was home I wanted, sir.

- Missing you wife, Stevens?

Yes. Yes, sir.

Every man who wanted a cuddle

and a little bit of loving kindness

took off for England,

there wouldn't be any bloody army

left over here now, would there?

- No, sir.

- You're out of place here, Stevens.

Obey orders. Get out as soon as you can.

Thank you, sir.

- Roberts?

- Sir.

Your commanding officer gave you

an order. He ordered you to fight.

So you knocked his teeth out.

Is that right?

Yes, sir.

Is that all you got to say?

Sir, it's all I want to say.

- See that hill?

- I noticed it as I came in.

We built it special.

A few tons of sand and rock and a lot of

labor and sweat. The prisoners built it.

Well, that's marvelous, sir.

It's a great construction feat.

Something tells me

you're going to get to know it well.

- I don't want any special privileges.

- It gets hot on that hill. Hot.

I fancy I saw snow on the top

when I came in.

You're dead set on having a go at it,

aren't you?

No, I can do without it, sir,

but I think you've got other plans for me.

- King.

- Sir.

Would you like to drill with these men?

Anything you order I can do, sir.

Pity I won't see it.

You can't drill with them. You're black.

- I already know that, sir.

- I only take notice of one thing. The book.

King's Rules and Regulations lay it down

in black and white that Hottentots,

bosutos, voodoo boys and sons of

witch doctors do their square-bashing

separate and away from white men.

- I'm a British subject from the West Indies.

- You're black.

That makes me happy

when I see some white men, sir.

Don't answer back,

you different-colored bastard.

Man, I spit.

- Staff.

- Sir!

Over here. See if the M.O.'s ready

to inspect these men.

Sir!

- So you're a British subject, eh?

- Yes.

- Yes, what?

- Yes, sir.

Then you have equal privileges.

You can drill with these men,

and you can dance

over that hill with them.

Be my pleasure, sir.

Six prisoners present and correct, sir!

Forty-six prisoners, correct, sir!

Sixteen prisoners present and correct, sir!

Fifteen prisoners present and correct, sir!

Eighteen prisoners

all present and correct, sir!

Five new prisoners

all present and correct, sir!

Eighteen prisoners

all present and correct, sir!

Now, if any of you are excused boots, pack

drill, breathing, have six toes, two heads

or a dose of the clap,

are pigeon-chested, walleyed or

still have to be breast fed, speak up now.

That's my set piece

and it always gets a laugh.

- Ready for medical inspection, sir.

- King, fall out.

Double over to the M.O.'s room.

Left, right, left, right, left, right, left.

So you're the busted sergeant major,

are you?

I'll bet your boys loved you.

How many of them died for you, Roberts?

Some of them died fighting.

Don't give me the big hero stuff.

You got busted for cowardice, cowardice!

Eyes front!

Not a swatty in the Middle East

who's not heard about you.

What are you supposed to be?

A brave man in a permanent base job?

Next!

Stevens, fall out and double away,

will you?

Left, right, left, right, get those knees up,

will you? Get them up, up, up!

Medical inspection.

Man, the only place

that crazy doctor inspected...

No talking.

How he gonna know I A-1

by only just looking at my secret weapon?

I told you no talking!

King, Roberts, you're on charge.

- Hey, Staff, he didn't speak.

- Don't answer back.

But, Staff, you charge me.

That man ain't speak.

King, you're a dead cert for bread

and water if you don't stop flapping

that big trap of yours.

- I told you, Staff. He didn't speak.

- Why don't you shut up?

All right, McGrath!

Well, I don't want them two

dropping me in it.

- Next, Staff.

- Yes, sir!

- All right, McGrath, fall out.

- What the hell are you doing, Stevens?

Now cut out this bashful virgin act.

Double it up! Left, right, left, right!

Halt!

Now you two had a great time

of it with the Sergeant Major,

but I'm taking care

of your welfare from now on.

I'll tell you here and now.

I hate the bloody sight of the pair of you.

- Next, Staff!

- Sir! Bartlett, fall out and double over.

All right, move, move, move!

Get your knees up. Get them up.

One of these shy lads, are you, Stevens?

Well?

- Well...

- Well?

- I was...

- You what?

One of these cads who can't make up

his mind whether he's a boy or a girl?

- I'm married, sir.

- Are you now?

And who's who in your little partnership?

We don't have to be treated like that,

do we? I mean...

- Eyes front!

- We're not animals.

Haven't made up my mind

whether you're fish or fowl yet, Stevens.

- Staff!

- Sir.

I want this one scrubbed

with a yard broom.

- He's blacker than a darkie!

- Sir!

- Next, Staff!

- Roberts, double!

- Move it!

- Halt!

Hat off! Inside!

- This is Roberts, sir.

- Take your shirt off.

- Any serious illnesses?

- Do you mean recently, sir?

Anytime.

Smoker's cough.

Drop your trousers.

- Anything else?

- Like what?

- Any recent incapacities?

- Well, I wouldn't brag about it if I had, sir.

Roberts, in this place, it pays to give

a plain answer to a simple question.

Try learning that golden rule.

Turn around.

Right, get dressed.

- Then I'm fit, sir?

- Yes.

Where are you sending me,

to a stud farm?

Roberts, I give you one week,

just one week. Now get out.

- Right now.

- Yes, sir.

About turn. Forward march.

Left, right, left, right.

Attention! Stand at ease!

Attention! Stand at ease!

Attention! Stand at ease! Attention!

- Staff!

- Sir.

I suggest you take the prisoners

on a short excursion.

- Sir.

- To the hill, Staff.

Suggest you take them to the hill.

Let them walk round it.

Inspect it at their leisure.

Then take them up and down it,

say half a dozen times. No more.

Just half a dozen times.

But not Roberts, Staff.

- Not Roberts, sir?

- Not Roberts.

Give him half an hour. That's plenty.

Just half an hour.

- Carry on, Staff.

- Sir.

Detail, pick up your kits.

Move, move, move!

Stand still!

Roberts! You're idle on parade.

You're on another charge.

Remainder, three paces forward, march!

Left turn! By the front, quick march!

Left, right, left, right, left, right!

You're a clever bag of tricks,

you are, Roberts.

Not inside glasshouse half an hour

and you use your bloody influence

to get us a ride on the hill.

Aye. I'll bet there's one Saturday night

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