What Price Glory Page #8

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The bottom card is an ace.

Captain Flagg,

the chances are one in 13...

that the bottom card

will be an ace.

And what are the chances of the second

from the bottom card being an ace?

I'll shuffle.

Cut.

Cold poker.

Five cards open. No draw.

- Ace.

- I'll have a drink.

Ace. I'll have a drink.

Eight.

Six.

Trey.

Sixes, a pair.

Pair of eights, Flagg.

Three sixes, Quirt.

This next card

better be an eight...

or you are a dead man.

I bluffed him!

I bluffed him!

He had an eight coming, and I bluffed him!

You killed him!

Nah, he knocked

the lamp over and ran.

I didn't kill him.

I did better than that.

I bluffed him.

Bluffed him.

He had an eight coming,

and I bluffed him.

And now, Charmaine,

it's just you and me.

Now get behind the bar,

and buy my friends a drink.

- Come on.

- Captain Flagg.

- Come on.

- Captain Flagg.

Battalion's moving up.

We're ordered back.

Ordered back in.

Everybody's going back in.

General movement.

- The big push is on.

- What?

What?

- But I'm on a leave.

- All leaves are cancelled.

Well, why'd you have to

come and tell me?

- Headquarters sent out

looking for you, Captain.

- Come on, skipper. Let's go.

Well, you never found me

to give me the message.

Now, can you remember that, or do I have to

bury you to keep your mouths shut?

I got 'em their prisoner.

I gave 'em their railway station...

and I got papers

that say I'm on leave.

The company was moving out.

What could I do, Captain?

You could've got

an attack or something.

You could've fallen down

and broken your neck on the way here.

Tell 'em any story you can think of.

Only I didn't get the message.

I earned my leave.

It's signed, sealed and delivered.

That crowd at headquarters have to

keep their end of the bargain.

They can't take

those men back in.

I won't stand for it.

Charmaine, shall we stay here?

Yes.

Yes.

Oh, no.

No, I'll go.

I'll go.

I may be drunk, but I know I'll go.

Gowdy! Lipinsky! Get rolling.

There's something... something about

this profession of arms.

Some kind of religion connected

with it that you can't shake.

Good-bye, Charmaine.

Put your money in real estate...

and marry that cuckoo if you can.

You'll never see me again.

Moran, follow us close with the rations.

Follow us because

we don't know where we're going.

- Nobody knows.

- Aye, aye, sir.

I got something for you.

Your discharge papers.

I've been holding them for a year.

Sorry. So long, kid.

- We're going too, Mr. Kiper.

- So long, sir.

So the outfit's going back in, eh?

Everybody.

You love your papa?

What a lot of blasted fools it takes

to make an army.

Flagg!

Hey, Flagg, wait for baby!

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