The Long Voyage Home

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were taken, as well as inestimable booty.

By scoring several hits, our artillery...

about to sail to return to harbor.

under the fire of German anti-tank guns.

containing the Secretary's comment...

- Captain. | - Yes.

bombing in Chungking had been received.

Anyone left the ship, Donkeyman?

Not as I seen, sir.

- New man? | - Yes, sir.

Smith, signed on at Cape Town.

- Check him onboard. | - Yes, sir.

That crazy light don't work, sir.

So why didn't you report it | when the lights went out?

All right, Mister. | Check everyone in the fo'c's'le.

Swanson here. McDonald?

What? Oh. Oh, here, sir.

Bergman.

Here.

Davis. Davis!

I'm here.

- In here... | - What is it? What's going on?

What are you doing here, steward?

Just turned in for a wink of sleep, sir.

- You're a mighty quick sleeper? | - Yes, sir. Always was...

- Oh, tick him off. | - Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Do you always sleep with your clothes on?

It's my privilege.

That fellow belong to me.

- Who's missing? | - Driscoll, sir. Bunk's empty.

- Where is he, Swanson? | - Drisk?

Why... Huh.

He was here just a little while ago, sir.

He went to sleep, I suppose, | up on fo'c's'le head.

I go find him, tell him you want him, huh?

Stay where you are.

I know that you men have been | grumbling about shore leave.

When I found the native police | had picked up a seaman ashore,

I guessed it was Driscoll.

Me, sir?

- Did I hear my name, sir? | - Where have you been?

I've been having a bit of a nap | on the fo'c's'le head, sir.

Oh, it's a grand evening | to be taking a few winks on deck.

With that sun coming over the water, sir, | I was dreaming...

Never mind about that. | Let's have a look at your hands.

The other one.

The back of it, man.

There's a native policeman ashore | with a broken jaw.

No skin broken, sir.

Well, I'm glad for once | it's someone from another ship.

- Kransky. | - Here.

- Hansen. | - Here.

- Geary? | - Here.

- Rido. | - Here.

What happened, Drisk?

Dawson put up a bit of a fight. Ole.

I'm sneaking back to the boat | when two of them native police

with their white caps | and their brass buttons

step out and ask for my pass.

"There's a war on," says they, | "and you're not a neutral."

I never was a...

I never was a neutral in all my life.

- Well, one word led to another. | - What about the ladies?

The ladies will be aboard any minute now | with huge, big baskets of fruit.

Fruit?

Hey, what about the booze?

Under the fruit, there'll be a bottle | or two like this for each one of you.

- By jingo, we get drunk! | - Shut up, you square-head.

Yeah, shut up.

Would you have the Mate after us?

Well, I hope you enjoyed it.

I did.

There you are.

There's a bumboat | coming along the side, sir...

- Right, let them aboard. | - Pardon, sir?

- Let them aboard. | - Yes, sir.

I suppose you're wondering | why I'm relaxing discipline.

Why, no, sir. It's none of my business.

I thought the First had told you the orders.

They said the ship was being ordered | to the United States, sir, to pick up cargo.

- They tell you what the cargo is gonna be? | - No, sir.

It's ammunition, Mister.

Yes, sir.

Come on. Get them up.

Hey, get back there.

Come on. Get them up there.

Driscoll!

You're in charge of this party. | And no rough stuff.

No, sir.

- You women bring booze? | - Where's the liquor?

Hold your horses, ape!

Is it trouble you're after?

Quiet! All right. All right.

You want the Mate down on our necks | to spoil all the fun?

Into the fo'c's'le with them. | Go along now. Come on. Get out of here.

Take them in, fellows. Go on, fellows. | Move along. Shake a leg.

Hey, he's cheating!

You make so much noise, mister.

Good evening.

You buy from me?

Have you anything to drink?

Thanks.

Thanks. Thank you very much.

Smitty.

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Come on, baby.

Come on, baby.

Drink?

I've done my share of drinking in my time.

Doctor told me I'd have stop it or die, | so I stops.

What's troubling you, Smitty?

That singing on the shore | getting your nerves?

If I didn't know | we were in the West Indies,

I'd imagine we were anchored | off some island of the dead.

The ghosts are wailing, Donkeyman.

Natives is queer.

I've known them | to keep on singing like that all night long.

I used to worry a lot about dying. | I don't no more.

Take that singing now.

Sounds kind of nice and sleepy-like to me.

Sleepy? If I listen to it much longer sober, | I'd never get to sleep.

What's bothering you, Smitty?

Oh, memories, Donkeyman.

Best thing to do with memories | is forget them.

Suppose you couldn't forget them?

I'd get drunk, same as you're doing.

Whatever set you going to sea | on an old tramp like this?

I suppose there's a woman mixed up in it, | ain't there?

- There she is. | - Oh, here you are, honey!

You come back!

There's love for you, Smitty.

No memories joined with that.

Every time we get near the land, | you get that look on your face.

When a man goes to sea,

he ought to give up | thinking about things on shore.

Land don't want him no more.

I've had my share of things gone wrong,

and all come from the land.

Now I'm through with the land, | and the land's through with me.

Too smoky in fo'c's'le. Jiminy!

There's a chap who doesn't worry about it.

He's going back to the land | at the end of this voyage.

Olsen? He'll never get home.

Three times I've seen him paid off.

And it's always one drink with the boys | and then...

After this trip, he'll stop trying.

Yes, I dare say you're right.

You're different from the rest of us.

Something on land | has still got a hold on you.

It's you ought to be going home.

You leave me out of it, Donkeyman.

Who's going to leave you out of it | when we get back to England?

I'm not going back.

- The ship is. | - But I'm not.

You mean you're going to desert?

Mind your own business, Donkeyman.

Play us a tune, you lug!

An Irish tune!

Hey, Ed. Want a drink?

Yeah, thanks.

Say, isn't it great? | We're gonna booze it on up with a...

senor?

I no like these men.

I like you.

querido.

I be your girl.

Dance with...

I don't dance.

Oh, Smitty. Smitty, you dog.

Gee, I almost popped you. | You and me is friends, Smitty, ain't we?

- Right you are, Yank. | - Ain't we? Sure.

Any pal of mine can have | anything I got, Smitty. Anything.

And she's a good-looker, ain't she, | Smitty, huh? Ain't she?

Come on, honey.

Boy, she's got a lot of fire, too, huh? | Here, have a drink. Go on. Go on.

Hey, baby, wait minute.

You done that on purpose, you hairy ape.

Who you calling a hairy ape?

You!

You're a cold punching swab.

Well, did you see him?

What I want to know is, | are we all friends or not?

- Why, sure we're friends. | - There now, have a drink.

- I will. | - God bless you.

Hey! Come on deck!

Seamen and firemen fighting, sir.

What's going on here?

They were, all of them, | having a bit of a harmless fight, sir.

Knife wound to the shoulder, sir.

- Who knifed him? | - I don't know, sir.

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