The Lost Patrol Page #2

a soldier than he.

And look at him now.

- Quincannon.

- Sergeant.

Yeah?

How soon are we going to join up

with the brigade?

I don't know.

Tomorrow, possibly the next day.

Yes, sir.

Yes, but everything's all right now,

isn't it?

Why, yes, certainly.

Quincannon, have you seen that

the horses are securely pegged down?

Yes, Sergeant.

Well, I want you to

paste this in your hat.

Our getting back to the brigade

depends entirely on our horses.

Well, we've lost one today, you know,

McKay's horse.

- Now that's bad.

- Now, don't worry, Sergeant.

They're as secure as

if I was in charge myself.

They'll stand through the night.

Well, before you kip down tonight,

look them over again.

All right, Sergeant.

Pearson.

I think I'll give you a whack

at sentry-go tonight.

Will do you good.

Yes, sir.

All right, get your rifle

and watch over the horse lines.

Yes, sir.

Well, boys, it's hotter in here

than it is out there.

Aye.

Hey, here's a place there might be

some shelter from the wind.

Come on, Matlow.

I say, jolly sort of place, isn't it?

There ain't no swansdown feather beds

like what you got at home, Topper.

The Garden of Eden Temperance Hotel.

Brother Sanders, will you lead us

in prayer, or are we to be spared that?

I likes that tune, Morelli.

That was my cue in the music halls.

When the orchestra did that...

boom.

I come down rolled up in the curtain.

It always knocked them.

Topper, what is it when two things

happen at the same time?

- Coincidence?

- A coincidence. That's it.

Play it again, will you, Morelli?

That's what the band was playing

when we sailed from Tilbury.

And here was I,

standing on the deck...

and there was Molly, in a red hat,

a-waving from the dock.

First time she ever saw me in my khaki,

and the last sight I ever had of her.

So, there's a Molly with a red hat

in your love life, is there?

Molly's me wife, Topper.

We were married that morning

by the regimental chaplain.

- Married, huh?

- Got a baby.

I'm the father of a boy.

Herbert Hale Jr. II.

Got a letter when we left Cairo.

I've got a picture of the nipper here.

It's in my haversack. I'll show you.

He's two months old.

- Two months?

- Yes.

Splendid fellow, Herbert.

Nothing like a family.

It's all right, Pearson, it's me.

Now, if I was one of those sneaking

Arabs, I'd have cut your throat by now.

Well, I'm sorry, sir. I didn't think.

I mean...

I was just thinking.

What were you thinking?

Well, that moon.

It's so bright.

It sort of gets one, Sergeant.

I was just thinking

that in 12 hours' time...

that same moon

will be shining over England.

Makes it seem sort of close.

Don't you think so, Sergeant?

I never thought of that.

- How old are you, son?

- 19, sir.

Public school?

No, I had a tutor for a while.

Just Mother and I.

She never wanted me to be away.

Guess that's why I'm here now.

I ran away.

Joined up, huh?

Well, I thought it was

the right thing to do.

My uncle, well,

he's in the War Office.

He wanted to wangle me a commission.

But I'd rather be on my own.

That's why I'm glad I'm here.

Oh, I suppose I'll get a commission,

eventually...

but it's a fine thing

to come up from the ranks.

- Don't you think so, Sergeant?

- Yes.

You see, you're more on your own.

You're around fine soldiers...

men like Mr. McKay

and Mr. Quincannon...

the kind of soldiers I read about

in Kipling. I'm crazy about Kipling.

And here I am...

a part of it now.

The finest thing is,

they're so modest.

They don't even see the glory in it,

do they?

No.

How about your mother?

What did she say

about your joining up?

She didn't like it.

First time I ever saw her cry.

Well, you're lucky, son.

Nobody ever cried over me.

Well, stop looking at the moon

or you'll be seeing ghosts.

And keep your eyes peeled, because we

don't know what's out there, you know.

Yes, sir.

- Good night.

- Good night, Pearson.

Fall out!

Knifed in the back.

Aye, that's Arabs, Michael.

We've met it before.

The swine.

Bell, Corporal Bell!

- So help me...

- I'll get him!

Where's the horses?

They're gone!

Fall in!

Extended order.

From Cook, right turn.

Double. Left turn.

Keep 25 yards apart.

Circle the mosque.

Sergeant, I found Bell alive.

Just.

There's where the horses went.

Sergeant, can't we put

something over it?

I could get a couple of sticks, Sergeant,

and tie them together and...

Wait. Get Pearson's sword.

Put it there.

I think he'd like that.

See anything?

No.

Beats me, how in the name of holy...

Oh, shut up. We've chewed

the blinking rag about it...

all the blooming morning.

- The horses are gone, ain't they?

- Hey!

Whose fault is it

the horses are gone?

Yeah, they should never have put

that laddie out there, Michael.

Oh, chuck it. Chuck it!

Hey, what kind of lingo is that?

Meant to be Malayan,

or possibly Javanese.

- I forget.

- Been there, Topper?

Cruised around a bit.

- What's it like?

- Ain't like this, I hopes.

Oh, palm trees.

But you don't mind the heat.

Lots of water, flowers, mountains,

a breeze from the ocean.

Cruised around on a yacht

most of the time.

Tell us, what did you have to

drink there, besides water?

Oh, the usual.

Gin and bitters in the morning,

scotch and soda in the afternoon...

and at night, sparkling champagne

served in a bucket of ice.

- Don't, don't.

You're breaking my heart.

- Shut up.

I can't say much for

the women though.

But, oh, the girls.

All Malayan females

should be poisoned at 21.

Before that, they're...

But a wee bit on the dark side,

huh, Brown?

Oh yes, they're dark.

But the longer you're there,

the whiter they get.

Or that's the way it seems.

That didn't bother me, Jock.

I'll never forget

the first time I saw them.

We sailed into a little harbor,

about sundown.

The girls all came swimming out...

flowers in their long hair, singing

and laughing up at us from the water.

Brown skin?

Seemed like gold to me.

A richer, deeper gold than any metal.

I can see that gold shimmer, even now,

on their wet bodies...

as they swam like mermaids to the rail

and climbed on-board...

laughing at us

like a lot of shameless imps.

Ah, man, Topper...

'tis the soul of the poet you have.

They knew they were beautiful.

What happened then?

Oh, then the men came out.

Yeah, in their war canoes.

Seems they didn't quite like the way

we were getting along with the girls...

- entirely too chummy.

- Did you fight?

Yeah, one fellow heaved a spear at me.

I suspect it was his girl

I had under one arm...

while I was trying to heave up

the anchor with the other.

Go on, go on.

Don't keep us in suspense.

- What come of it?

- Nothing. We sailed away.

Hey, but the lasses?

What about them?

Oh, later on,

when we passed by the coast again...

they slipped over the side

and swam ashore.

- How about it?

- Oh, shut up.

Ain't you got no imagination?

But all the same, Topper,

you didn't ought to leave

us high and dry like that.

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