The Hill Page #4

Getting idle your men are.

Next thing you'll be having them

in the mess for a Saturday booze-up.

- You think I'm losing my touch?

- Losing your touch, Bert.

Twenty-five years service in, you'd think

you'd know your job. And you do.

You think you can make soldiers

out of muck and you can.

You've got an easy way with you, Charlie,

but don't come the old soldier with me.

Stevens is A-1 fit for punishment.

Bert, honest, he doesn't look

that way right now, look.

It's here in black and white.

The M.O. Passed him fit. Now get out,

or I'll have you doubling

with your little mates.

Not over that hill.

Even you wouldn't get me

over that hill, eh?

Water, over here.

Bartlett, on your feet, lad! Double.

You, douse him.

Roberts, on your feet, lad, double!

On your feet and double!

Douse him.

- Staff, he's crazy.

- I said douse him!

All right, you bastards, fall in.

Move it!

Stand tall!

Right turn! Forward turn!

By the front! Double march!

Left, right, left, right, left wheel!

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

left, right, left, right.

Obeying orders, don't beat me.

Mark time! Thank you, Staff.

Forward march! Right wheel!

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

Left, right, left, right.

Carry on, Staff.

- Staff?

- Staff.

Thought you might like a nightcap, sir.

- Good night, sir.

- Good night.

Staff, Staff, Staff, it's me. It's Jacko, Staff.

Staff, it's Jacko. Yeah, it's Jacko, Staff.

I'm still up on my feet.

Staff, Staff, it's Jacko.

The different-colored bastard. Staff.

You wanna take me out again, Staff?

You can't beat Jacko, Staff.

No. Oh, no.

No, no man can beat Jacko, Staff.

No man can beat Jacko, Staff.

No man can beat Jacko, Staff.

- Darkie, go to your bed.

- Darkie?

Okay, okay.

- All right, I'm ready for another basin.

- Oh, get into your bed.

Who are you shouting orders at?

I can do it again.

Anytime. Williams won't beat me.

You sand-happy bastards, it's night.

That's not the sun. That's a Gestapo lamp.

Get your kits off.

Give him a hand.

Come on, let's have it off.

- Steady.

- Careful.

- Straps are like bleeding knives.

- I'll get your shirt off.

Stevens, here.

Okay?

There you go.

Look at Monty.

Hey, you're a wise boy, aren't you?

All these wogs are a load of cobblers.

Monty, the screw'll put you over the hill

if he catches you smoking.

And it's Commandant's inspection today.

Three hours standing, too,

instead of doubling.

Some rest. All day long in the blazing sun.

I'll tell you one thing. They won't fault

my equipment. It's perfect.

Yeah, but Stevens can't go on parade

with his kit like this.

Well, he'll get the stick for it, then,

won't he?

A Section, all present and correct, Staff!

B Section, all present and correct, Staff!

- C Section, all present and correct, Staff!

- D Section, all present and correct, Staff!

- A Company, all present and correct, Staff!

- B Company, all present and correct, Staff!

- A Wing, all present and correct, sir!

- Carry on, Staff.

- B Wing, all present and correct, sir.

- Carry on, Staff.

Stand still! Stand still!

Staff, stand the prisoners at ease!

A Wing, stand at ease!

B Wing, stand at ease!

Five minutes rest. Half an hour's attention.

Don't half crease you, doesn't it?

We are all doing time, even the screws.

All prisoners present and correct, sir.

Front rank, one pace forward, march!

Stevens. Your kit's a blinding wonder, lad.

You'll have RSM jealous.

- White wash.

- White wash!

White wash! One pace forward, march!

Left turn!

What did you clean your kit with, lad?

White wash, Staff.

The Commandant knows you used

white wash. The RSM knows. I know.

But you don't have to be a dozy

and own up to it.

Double march! Take over, Staff!

Left wheel!

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

White wash, Roberts. You're too clever,

Roberts, that's your trouble.

Stevens' kit was dirty, Mac.

He was bound to get some stick anyway.

He's still too clever, Jacko.

Too damn clever by half.

When it dries out,

look as good as new, lad. Better.

Broken the King's heart if the RSM

phoned him and told him you'd been

defacing his walls.

Would it, Staff?

Son, you shouldn't be in here, you know.

You shouldn't even be in the army.

- We'd a queer in here a few weeks back

- I'm not queer!

I know you're not.

Why don't you listen, eh?

That nanny had a way with her.

She sang and she laughed all day.

Put her over the hill

and she went into a dance routine.

Better than those belly dancers

in the cabarets, isn't it?

She wasn't any stronger than you,

but she knew how to survive,

and that's what you've got to learn

in this army.

You've got to learn how to, you know...

How to survive, eh?

Seem to have smartened up

the prisoners from Cell 8, Staff.

Thank you, sir.

And what about Stevens, eh?

Yes, sir. I missed that, sir.

Didn't think Stevens would try it on, sir.

He wouldn't. Somebody put him up to it.

I'll take them all out, sir,

and we'll find the right man.

Oh, Christ!

You've knocked the rocks over,

haven't you, lad? Pick them up again.

Very pretty, Roberts. Very pretty.

Roberts.

Cut it off! Cut it off!

King, double.

Right, King, you're on a charge.

I said double!

All right, Bartlett, up you go, lad.

Oh, yeah.

- I don't think I'll be able to do this, Staff.

- Of course you will, lad. Come along.

Well, you'll have to excuse me if I can't.

- No. No. No.

- Get up it, Bartlett.

Come on, Bartlett, let's have you get up it.

You see, Staff,

I'm kinda not built for this sort of...

- Get up it, Bartlett!

...thing, Staff.

- Bartlett, get up it!

- I can't, Staff.

- Get up it, Bartlett!

- I'm fat!

I'm fat.

- Get up it!

- You all know, don't you?

Halt! Still! Left turn!

Stevens, you're a dead bloody loss.

Put it on.

Hurry it up!

Double march!

I only wanted to go home.

I can't stand any more.

I can't take any more.

- God help me.

- Will you shut up?

Lay off.

Well, if he goes on like that,

we'll have the padre in next,

thinking he's got a new customer.

He can't take that hill.

- Stevens.

- No...

- Stevens.

- I don't want to do any more.

I just want... I just want to lay down.

Listen, Roberts, if he goes...

If he's sick, he goes on sick parade.

Or you get a screw's permission

to bed him down.

- Yeah, you're not dropping us in it again.

- That's right, Joe.

Staff! Staff, we've got a sick man in here.

All right! That's enough.

Williams has had him on the hill,

now you get the vet.

Staff.

I want out from these lunatics, Staff.

Bed the lad down, Roberts.

You want something, Staff?

Yes. I'd like a word with you.

- This is my cell. I'm responsible here.

- I'm not, thank God.

- Then leave it to me.

- You've got a sick man in here.

- I can deal with it.

- I've given instructions to bed him down.

If you don't get out sharp, Staff,

I'll put you on report and let the RSM

decide what's right or not.

So I can organize something,

a visit from the M.O.

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