The Lives of a Bengal Lancer
- NOT RATED
- Year:
- 1935
- 109 min
- 112 Views
All right. 2:
30 tomorrow.Thank you. Goodbye.
Thanks, Sergeant.
Report of horse rations,
Thirtieth Hussars.
Regimental
and general files.
Now, each of these buttons represents troops.
Do you understand?
Yes, sir.
Good.
The buttons are thickest up near
the Northwest Frontier.
Oh, yes, always.
We have 300 million
people to protect.
And most of the danger
is there.
It's so romantic
to a greenhorn like me.
Kipling and all that,
you know.
Romantic?
Well, at first, yes.
A- another button
to move.
41st Bengal Lancers.
Here, near the pass.
The pass?
Does that mean-
It means nothing
but maneuvers.
As CoI. Stone says
in his report here.
You hear that firing,
Hamilton?
Typical sniping fire, sir.
Yes, and Afridi muskets
every one of them.
Not a shot
from our detachment.
Good. Hendrickson's
a good soldier.
Rough on him,
popping away at his men
and not able
to return fire.
Well, he'll get a citation
if this plan works.
Plan's good enough, sir,
if it were anybody but Mohammed Khan.
He's a clever dog.
Yes, of course he is.
I ought to know.
But he's nibbling
at our bait this time.
And if we can once
draw him down
out of those hills
far enough, out into the open
so that we can
cut off his retreat,
we've got him red-handed!
And that's what
I've been waiting for,
for 15 years, Hamilton.
Afridi swine. When do we
go into action, Hendrickson?
CoI. Stone's orders.
ColoneI's orders.
Narain Singh.
Now can we start something?
ColoneI's orders,
McGregor.
But the old fooI
couldn't have foreseen this.
I'd like to have you
with me in a war,
but for peace time,
you're a bit too-
Too...
Too impulsive.
Machine guns!
Forward!
Most unfortunate,
the command
devolved upon you.
Of course you didn't
know my orders.
I did know them, sir.
Why didn't
you obey them?
You call yourself
a soldier?
That's all.
McGregor. You don't.
You're right, I don't.
I'm just a fooI
Scotch-Canadian.
Came into your outfit
to get action.
He's got a ramrod
for a backbone.
He's a terror for drilling,
but when it comes to the real thing-
McGregor,
the Colonel has the right
to act as he thinks best
and say what he pleases.
Mount!
One more thing, sir.
Two replacements come in
today from Delhi.
Paperwork.
When we came into
the regiment as boys,
we didn't know that this
was 9l10ths of soldiering.
No.
We thought and acted
rather like McGregor.
Mmm.
What about
these two replacements?
What are they sending
to us now?
From the Blues:
Lt. Forsythe.
The Blues, eh? Well, that's
a fashionable regiment.
All spit and polish.
Who's the other one?
From Sandhurst:
Lt. Stone.
What?
From Sandhurst?
What, they're sending me
a young cub,
not dry behind
the ears yet? Unseasoned?
Straight from,
fr-from military college
to the Frontier?
Oh, bless me.
Hmm, what'd you say
his name was?
Donald Stone, sir.
Hmm.
And who asked you
to interfere
in my personal affairs?
Will you forget
that you're my coloneI
for a moment, sir?
Yes.
Look here, Tom.
In about two years,
you'll be retired.
So you sent for my son
because you feel sorry
for me, is that it?
Not at all.
The idea was to keep
the name of Stone
in the 41st
after you're gone.
There's no room for
sentimentality in the army.
Hardly fair to ship him home
without a triaI.
Still, he'll measure up
to my standards,
or out he goes.
Of course.
And at the first sign
of favoritism,
from you or anyone else,
there'll be trouble.
And that's an order,
Maj. Hamilton.
Just as you said,
Major.
It's the ColoneI's
privilege
to do
and say what he likes.
McGregor, you'll meet
the two replacement officers this morning.
Lts. Forsythe and Stone.
Yes, sir. S-Stone?
His son.
His what?
I said, his son.
I can't imagine old Ramrod
ever having been that human.
Mr. McGregor.
Yes, sir.
Madam, you'll marry me
Tuesday the 29th.
Be at the church at 10:00.
That's an order.
Furthermore,
you're improperly dressed.
Ha, Ha.
Did you want
to speak to me, McGregor?
No, sir.
I hope he's a nice follow.
He won't be. Ramrod.
I beg your pardon?
One Stone isn't enough.
We have to have two.
There he is,
Everything was all right?
Thank you, sir.
Couldn't be anybody else.
Just as sure of himself as...
Look at the way
they jump around for him.
Look at his luggage,
everything just so-so.
Well, come on,
let's get it over with.
No, I've got
a little business.
You get
your precious replacements.
I'm McGregor, Lancers,
sent to meet you.
Oh, sort of
reception committee, eh?
It's nice to know
I was expected.
The regiment's been
practically breathless for a week.
Oh?
Traveling light, huh?
Well, you see, I did expect
to stay a little while.
That is if you don't
mind too much.
It's all right
with me.
Goodbye.
And thank you very much
for being so kind.
Not at all.
Your luggage and everything
all taken care of?
Everything, thank you.
May I present Mr. McGregor,
Miss Leys?
Very happy.
How do you do?
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Who's she?
I met her on the train,
if you don't mind.
Bad business talking
You know, this is India.
You don't know who they are,
and you might-
Oh, I see.
BeautifuI spy meets the young Lancer officer,
makes him give away
important military secrets.
The Empire goes smash.
Melodrama, my dear McGregor,
melodrama.
It might not be as funny
as it sounds, Mr. Stone.
I don't suppose
it matters to you,
but my name isn't Stone.
No?
No, it's Forsythe.
Well, then,
that must be Stone there.
That's very good, you know.
That's really very good.
It's almost brilliant.
Stone? I'm McGregor,
sent to meet you.
That's very nice of you.
Stone, meet Mister, uh...
What did you say
your name was?
Forsythe.
Mr. Stone, Mr. Fort.
We met on the train,
and the name is Forsythe.
Too hot for Forsythe.
Fort, Stone. Stone, Fort.
Stone Fort.
And that's funny.
If you two will hold onto each other,
I'll tend to your luggage.
Pleasant chap.
So friendly.
Isn't he?
Just what
I've always imagined
a real officer
on the Frontier would be like.
Well, my mother kept me
in the States
untiI I made her send me
to Sandhurst.
in the States.
Scotch-Canadian, myself.
What is this I'm in?
The Foreign Legion?
I didn't even think my father knew
I was at Sandhurst,
untiI this happened.
What?
His sending for me
to his regiment.
Oh?
Sort of, carry on
our tradition, you know?
Naim Shah,
your servant, Stone.
Ali Hamdi, yours.
The night watchman,
the water carrier, the sweeper.
You can hire
the rest of them later.
Those things hurt my ears.
That's odd.
They sound to me
like a Scotch bagpipe.
Your quarters, Stone.
Pretty, huh? And soothing.
Thought I might entertain you.
Wild Scotch airs.
Remind you of home.
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