The Real Glory Page #4

on the medical profession.

George!

(TAPS PLAYING)

And from now on,

I want double sentry duty.

Larson, round up every Moro

living in the village,

take them to the guardhouse. Go on.

Yes, sir.

McCool, I want a stockade

built around the fort,

and beyond that, barbed wire.

All we've got. Go on.

Yes, sir.

Yabo, instruct the guard.

Nobody's allowed inside

without a special pass. Nobody. Go on.

Yes, sir.

Captain, if a Moro can go juramentado,

why can't a white man?

There'll be no expeditions, alone

or in groups, under any circumstances.

Those are still the orders.

The Moro that killed Captain Manning

had this around his neck.

All the Moros wear anting-anting

to protect them.

From what?

The Moros aren't afraid

of anything, not even death.

I am not afraid of death, either,

yet you see I wear an anting-anting, too.

It is a symbol of something you believe in.

And if you believe in something, it's so.

That's true.

Take a look in here.

CANAVAN:
Those men

all believe in something.

Fear.

They're all sick with fear.

Canavan.

I'm not gonna stand for this business

of turning your hospital

into a refuge for slackers.

There are more men in here than

there are on the parade ground drilling.

If it keeps up, they'll all be in.

You're right, Captain, but...

Get them out.

There's nothing the matter with them.

Yes, there is.

That Moro that struck Captain Manning

down struck them down, too,

but not with a bolo.

They're down with a disease

medicine can't cure.

They'll be all right

when they learn how to use a gun,

when they're properly drilled.

The trouble is that

you're trying to drill things into them,

when you should be

drilling things out of them.

What good's a gun

when your finger's so paralyzed with fright

that you can't pull a trigger?

Sergeant, get these men out of here.

Have them report for duty.

From now on

there'll be no more of this pampering.

All he knows comes out

of a book of regulations.

He's so hipped on uniforms, he never

stops to consider what's inside of them.

Like trying to talk to a stone wall.

You said yourself

it was a disease that medicine can't cure.

Yes. But there must be a cure.

If I only knew

the Achilles' heel of the Moro.

What he's afraid of.

There must be something.

There is something.

The Moro is not afraid to die,

but he's mortally afraid

of being buried in a pigskin.

- Pigskin?

- Yeah.

Ridiculous, isn't it?

But not to the Moro.

He believes it sends him straight to hell.

Father Felipe,

you've done it.

You've isolated the germ for me.

The pigskin might be

the salvation of Mysang.

I'd rather have the American Army.

Hey, hey, hey, hey. What's going on here?

I got orders to round up

all the Moros in the village

and put them in the guardhouse.

- Come on.

- No, wait a minute.

All the village Moros are friendly.

Hartley says round them up.

Well, Mike here, he's just a kid.

He was born and raised here.

He's a Moro.

Well, you leave him with me

and I'll turn him in.

All right, Bill, but you tell Hartley.

I don't want any part of it.

I won't go to guardhouse.

I'll run away to jungle.

You mustn't do that, Mike.

You'll get into trouble.

No trouble for me in jungle.

You know your way around in the bush?

You bet your life.

Then get a couple of canteens

and some rope,

and wait for me down at the bridge.

- We go to the jungle?

- Yeah.

You better take your anting-anting.

I've got anting-anting.

Now, you better get going.

(BIRDS CHIRPING)

What is it?

What is it, Mike?

Spear trap.

Jungle's full of them.

(MAN CHANTING IN MORO)

Alipang's gang.

What are they doing?

They're fixing juramentado to run amuck.

(CHANTING IN MORO)

(ALL SPEAKING MORO)

(SPEAKING MORO)

(WHISPERING IN MORO)

Alipang sending juramentado

to kill Hartley.

Get the canteens.

(YELLING IN MORO)

(SCREAMING)

Tie him up, Mike.

It was such a pretty little house.

Right near the Luneta.

Linda, if you're ever in love

with a man, don't leave him,

not for a single second.

Well, I guess that's about all.

You'd better run along now

and do your own packing.

I'll see you at the boat.

(CRYING)

Linda, you know you haven't packed yet.

Any news of Dr. Canavan?

No.

Linda, don't think

I like shipping you out like this.

What do you suppose

happened to him, Dad?

I don't know.

I want you to wire me

as soon as you get home.

You can send the telegram to Manila

and it will be forwarded to me here.

Aren't you even going to

send out a searching party?

What for?

When a man deliberately

disobeys an order...

But he's a non-combatant.

Perhaps he didn't realize your order

applied to him. The least you can do is...

I've told you I'm not gonna

risk any more lives

searching for an insubordinate fool!

But he's not. You don't know him, Dad.

Wherever he is,

he's doing something for somebody else.

I don't see how you can be so cold-blooded

when your best man...

Well, one of your best men.

What makes you so interested

in Canavan all of a sudden?

Well, I'm not. I...

I'd feel the same way about anybody.

You'd better finish packing.

You don't want to hold up the boat.

I've just been talking to Yabo.

He says if we ever see the doc again,

it'll be in a pit, with his head sticking out

covered with honey

and some ants crawling around him.

Hey, what are you doing, Mac?

Hey, wait a minute, Mac. You can't do this.

Hartley's given strict orders.

Nobody in their right senses...

Who said I was in my right senses?

I got a touch of the sun.

Wait a minute, Mac.

I got a touch of that sun, too.

(SPEAKING MORO)

Hey, Swede, look.

McCOOL:
You, you dimwitted crack,

you ought to have been caught

and had your head stuffed full of honey

- and put in an ant heap.

- You should have fell in a ditch.

- Where've you been?

- What do you got here?

Genus Homo moro juramentado.

Yabo!

(GRUNTING)

Get that pigskin.

Everybody, come here.

I wanna talk to you.

Come on. Come on in closer.

This is what you were afraid of

when the American soldiers went home.

You were sad,

and you should have been happy.

Happy because this is your country.

And if it's your country,

you've got to protect it.

But you never will

as long as you're afraid of men like this.

He thinks you're only fit for slaves,

and that's because you act like slaves.

Fear has made you slaves.

Take a look at him.

If we were to cut him open,

we'd find he only had one heart,

one stomach,

approximately 25 feet of intestines.

No more and no less than you have.

Then what makes him a better man?

You!

Because you're afraid of him.

I'll show you what you're afraid of.

Yabo!

All right. Now tell him we're gonna

bury him in the pigskin.

(SPEAKING IN MORO)

(GRUNTING)

Put him in it.

(SCREAMING)

(JURAMENTADO SCREAMING)

(SOBBING)

All right, let him go.

(WAILING IN MORO)

Now look at him.

Your brave Moro.

Your terrible warrior

who won't let you work your rice fields

or fish the seas in peace.

How can you be afraid of that worm

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