The Lost Patrol

Right through the lung.

Bell, dismount the men.

Yes, sergeant.

Dismount!

Pity! Decent boy, in some ways.

Yeah.

No soldier, though.

Huh.

See the blighter what done it?

No! Blasted Arabs!

Hide like sand flies. Never see them.

There's them G.S. Shovels.

Shall I get 2 or 3 of the blokes to start in?

Right.

Sanders!

Corporal.

Bell: brown!

Yeah.

Hand your horses over to Mackay.

Put your rifles back in your buckets,

and get them G.S. Shovels.

What happened?

There was a shot, and then the officer--

he's dead, me lad. Wendelin is napoo.

We are gravediggers. Understand now, young fellow, me lad?

But out here? Where are we going to bury him?

Doesn't make much difference, does it?

All right, men. That'll do.

Going to Mark it?

What's the good? Bell, mount the men.

Sergeant!

Sergeant: huh?

Haven't you forgotten something?

Oh, uh, go ahead, Sanders.

"Almighty father, we commend the soul of our brother departed,

"and we commit his body to the ground,

"earth to earth, ashes to ashes, dust to dust,

"in sure and certain hope of the resurrection

unto eternal life through our lord."

Amen.

I'm sorry, sergeant,

but that's not the entire service.

We got to be moving. If we stick around here,

we'll be patting you and a couple of others

in the face with a spade.

Put your Toby on.

All right, men, tend to your horses.

Morelli, you see anything?

No! Nothing but sand. Plenty of it.

Corporal bell?

Yes, sergeant.

Do you know where we are?

No.

Do you know what we're here for?

Do you know where we're going?

No.

Neither do I.

Huh?

That young lad, that officer back there, never gave me his orders.

What?

I asked him 4 or 5 times,

and he'd always say, "I'll do that, sergeant. Tomorrow."

Here's our tomorrow. A nice one, too, ain't it?

Didn't he have them on him? Wasn't they in his pocket?

No. Kept them in his head.

There's not a lot of good that'll do us now.

Where are we going now? What are we going to do?

Well, we're lost.

Huh?

You heard me! Lost!

What are you figuring on doing?

Well, I've worked it out the best I can.

We're heading due north. We ought to hit the river tomorrow night.

Yes, we may hit the river and that'll be that,

but what else will we hit?

Yeah. A fine thing, ain't it, huh?

A patrol patrolling and not knowing where they're at!

And the orders locked up in that dead kid back there!

Dismount!

Ah, that's it, jock. That'll do your horse good.

Sergeant: Pearson!

Yes, sir?

You're a fool, Pearson.

Yes, sir.

Now, come on. Take it off. Give it to me.

Now, come on. Come on.

You know I won't drink it.

Have a little left for tonight.

All right, men, walk your horses.

Ah, jock, will you ever forget the time

I drank the 57 bottles of beer on a bet?

It was in a bar in Calcutta-- the queen's bar.

Ice cold, it was.

57 bottles!

I may have miscounted a few one way or another,

but I know it was 10 below me record.

Freezing cold, it was.

Give me a chill that nearly caused me death.

A pity it didn't.

All right, now.

Man: horse down!

Second man: Hold it! Whoa!

Come on, laddie. Please get up.

Too bad. Sorry, Mackay.

Here, jock. Give me that.

Take my horse. Go on with the rest.

Bell, what do you make that out to be?

Looks like something moving.

Not sure. Such a glare.

Couldn't be the brigade, could it?

Brigade? No.

Might be Arabs.

Morelli!

Say, morelli, you're the hawkeye of this party.

What do you make that out to be?

Trees!

Whole clump of them!

Sure it ain't a mirage?

Mirage, me aunt!

Think he's right, bell?

Maybe and maybe not.

Maybe it is Arabs.

Arabs, me eye!

It's palms, I tell you. It's an oasis!

That's what it is!

Right.

An oasis!

Prepare to mount.

Sergeant: now, take it easy.

Take it easy there.

Think about your horses.

That's enough now. Come on. Watch your horses.

All: oh!

Oh, mother, may I go out to swim?

Yes, my darling daughter.

Hang your clothes on a hickory tree,

but don't go near the water.

Corporal bell! Come on! Get out of there!

I'll have some lemonade.

Bell: ah!

You've forgotten yourself?

You haven't watered your own horse, have you?

Go on! Get your rifle and see what's in there.

You ought to know better!

Now, come on, you men! Get out of there!

Ah, jock, boy, this is better than beer!

Aye. Ha ha!

Man: there, old girl.

Second man: Take it easy.

A creepy place. What do you think?

Mohammedan mosque. I wonder how old it is.

It's hard to say.

Funny!

Huh?

Water, plenty of dates, this thing, and not a soul around.

Yeah, and not a ghost of an idea where we're at,

what we're here for, or where we're going.

I want to see the horses.

Well, the horses look good.

I'll bet they feel better.

Abelson? smarten up there!

Sergeant: draw up that shoulder strap.

And carry that rifle. Don't sling it.

You're on duty.

Is that your horse?

Abelson: yes.

I thought so.

Look at his back. I've told you about this before.

You ride the officer's horse tomorrow.

Tomorrow? Are we going to ride tomorrow?

I said tomorrow.

We pull out before sunup.

I say, sergeant, did I hear you right?

Are we moving out of here tomorrow?

Yes.

Gentlemen, I am the bearer of joyful tidings.

We leave this charming paradise tomorrow.

Paradise? 'tis the devil's own backyard.

Don't jest, Quincannon. You know what this place really is.

I do, and I can tell you in 50 words,

and every one of them forbidden.

If you'd read your Bible instead of hanging around

canteens and native quarters all your life,

you'd know that Mesopotamia--

this very spot that you're standing on this very minute--

is the--the actual garden of Eden.

The garden of Eden! The garden of Eden, how are you?

I tell you it would take no angel

with a flaming sword to drive me out.

That's blasphemy, Quincannon! You better not--

blasphemy? are you aware you're talking to a man

who was for 10 years an altar boy?

How you feeling, Pearson? Better?

I feel fine. Thank you, sir.

I'm--I'm sorry I wasn't quite up to it out there.

Guess I'm not much of a soldier yet.

You're all right, lad. You did fine.

You'll learn.

Thank you, sir.

Sure he'll learn.