They Died with Their Boots On
- APPROVED
- Year:
- 1941
- 140 min
- 409 Views
We're new cadets, sir.
You're not cadets, and I'm not "sir."
Pull in your chin!
Stand at attention when you speak
to a noncommissioned officer!
- Brown.
- Yes, sergeant.
March these plebes to the office
for enrollment.
Yes, sergeant.
Detachment, forward march!
Look to your fronts!
Pull in your chin!
Plebes, halt!
- New set of generals, captain?
- They're in the Army now, colonel.
- Fine-looking mess of manhood.
- About face!
Right face!
Right face! Keep those heads up.
Higher!
Higher!
Forward and to double time, march!
Get those heads up. Pep it up there!
Pep it up!
Get your heads up!
- You're pretty fresh for a cadet, Sharp.
- Maybe I can afford to be, sergeant.
One day, you're gonna trip up
the wrong lad...
...find yourself on your face.
Your old man's money won't help.
That's the trouble with the Army...
...makes no distinctions.
- No.
You're all alike here.
We don't say, "Welcome to West Point,"
turn out a guard in honor of any cadet.
Here's somebody you'll turn out a guard
for. Must be a brigadier general, at least.
Some foreigner calling
on the commandant.
Turn out the guard. General officer.
- Turn out the guard, general officer!
- Fall in!
Present arms!
Order arms!
Welcome to West Point.
May I direct you to the commandant?
Yes, if he's the proper person
for me to see.
I'm Mr. Custer. George Armstrong Custer
of Monroe, Michigan.
I've been appointed to the academy
as a cadet.
Welcome to West Point.
- Nice work, sarge.
- Dismiss the guard!
- What are you waiting for? Take charge.
- I'll show you to your quarters.
- Will you follow me?
They'll follow me.
Unleash them, boy.
And here's a dollar for yourself.
Thank you, sir.
Well. I've done four hitches in the U.S.
Cavalry. I thought I'd seen everything.
But if that isn't the stra...
- You favor cavalier boots, I see.
- I'm going into the Cavalry.
An infantryman's no better
than a beast of burden.
You have definite ideas, Mr. Custer.
What made you honor the Army
by choosing it?
Glory, Mr. Sharp, glory.
the nation will honor.
There's many more statues for soldiers
than civilians.
I'm sure you'll fit right in
with the statues...
...just like part of the horse.
Well, here we are, Mr. Custer.
Orderlies haven't moved Pinchbelly's
things yet.
But don't you worry, Mr. Custer,
we'll fix that right away.
- Will you give me a hand with this junk?
- Oh, certainly, Mr. Sharp.
I trust I'm not inconveniencing anybody.
Oh, no, no. On the contrary,
it's you who have been inconvenienced.
Not at all.
Well, I hope you'll be comfortable here.
- A first-year man, you don't rate a suite.
- No, of course not.
Well, confidentially, Mr. Sharp...
...these quarters are better than those
I'm accustomed to.
Oh, is that so?
My, that's a dashing-looking outfit
you're wearing, Mr. Custer.
Oh, thank you, Mr. Sharp.
Yes, we've nothing
to compare with it here.
No? Had it tailor-made in Monroe.
Wanted the folks to see me in uniform.
- Did you design it yourself, Mr. Custer?
- No, but if you've a moment...
...I'll show you where I got the idea.
- Oh, certainly.
Here.
One of the greatest heroes
who ever lived, Mr. Sharp.
Murat, the king of cavalrymen.
He was known as the Thunderbolt,
and his one tactic was:
Ride to the sound of the guns.
I must get myself a tiger skin
as soon as possible.
- Quite a fellow.
- Oh, yes.
Well, I must be running.
I'm sorry, we can't make arrangements
for the dogs until tomorrow.
Think nothing of it. They're accustomed
to sleeping with me anyway.
Oh, and thanks very much
for your kindness to me.
Well, Caesar, what do you want?
Why, you know you don't like onions.
What's the matter with you?
Oh, you want your bones, eh? Come on.
Come on. Come on.
Over here. Here, Caesar.
Come on, Hannibal. Come on.
Here you are. Here. Cleopatra.
There you are.
Here. There you are.
Hannibal!
What the continental blue blazes is this?!
- Sorry.
- Sorry?
- I didn't hear you knock.
- You didn't hear me knock?
- Anything I can do for you?
- Yes, there is.
You can tell me what you and your
menagerie are doing in my quarters...
...why my effects have been
thrown out...
...from what asylum you escaped...
...and how you're here in that uniform
instead of at a fancy-dress ball.
Well, sir, explain!
My name's Custer,
Cadet George Armstrong Custer.
- I was assigned these quarters.
- You were, were you?
I'm Major Romulus Taipe, quartermaster
and commandeer of cadets...
...and this happens to be my quarters.
And you're an imbecile.
Who brought you here?
Well, who brought you here?
I asked you a question. Who brought
you here? What's his name?
- Mudd.
- Mudd?
There's no such name at the academy.
Are you presuming to trifle with me?
Well, don't you hear that call?
It's inspection for new cadets.
Get out and fall in!
I don't think your stay will be very long
with us, Mr. Custer.
I'm recommending you
for a mental examination.
Get out! Get out!
Get out, confound it! Get out of here!
Get out! Get out of here! Go on!
New cadets, fall in!
Get in line.
Straighten up that rank.
Prepare for inspection!
- Adjust your chin strap.
- Yes, sir.
What kind of sloppiness you call that?
Fix your belt. Take his name.
See that these men are instructed...
...in the proper way to wear
their uniforms. Extra drill, if necessary.
Yes, sir.
Eyes front, that man.
- I said, eyes front!
- That means you, Marshal Murat.
Well, it's going to take even less time
to get rid of you than I suspected.
- Take him before Colonel Sheridan.
- Yes, sir. Right face!
Forward march!
Mr. Custer...
...you are charged
with a very grave offense.
Didn't you know striking a superior...
...is one of the most serious
of military offenses...
...punishable in some cases with death?
Why did you strike Mr. Sharp?
I'm afraid I can't say.
It was a personal matter.
There are no personal matters
on the parade ground.
Have you anything further to say?
No, sir.
Then I have no alternative
but to dismiss you from the academy.
Dismiss?
I didn't know you could get fired
from the Army for fighting.
Well, you know it now.
- What is your listing, Mr. Custer?
- Listing?
Yes, listing. It's on the form.
- The form you signed in the office.
- What form?
I didn't sign any form. I haven't been
to the adjutant's office.
Do you mean that you haven't
subscribed to the articles of war?
No, sir.
In that case, we certainly can't
fire you from the Army.
You're not in the Army. You've been
lucky. Let this be a lesson to you.
- Take him over to the adjutant.
- Yes, sir.
- I'd like to thank...
- About face!
- I'd just like to...
- Forward march!
Thanks anyway, sir.
You know, Taipe, I'm glad
it turned out this way.
- There's something about that fellow.
- Yeah?
Well, I don't know what it is.
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"They Died with Their Boots On" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 17 Nov. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/they_died_with_their_boots_on_21736>.
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