(DRONING IN DISTANCE)
(WOMAN SINGS SOMBRE SONG IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)
(ENGINES DRONE)
(LIVELY MUSIC)
MAN ON RADIO: No cloud cover reported over Ragusa.
It looks clear to the bomb site.
MAN 2 ON RADIO: Squadron lead
reporting heavy flak over the target.
(DISTANT BOOMING)
Heads up, gentlemen. Here it comes.
Check your vests, fellas. The flak's getting pretty thick out there.
Hey, Archie. How much longer?
Five minutes to IP.
Roger that.
MAN 3 ON RADIO: Squadron lead reporting
enemy fighters in our area.
Fighters at the same time? I thought that wasn't supposed to happen.
It does today.
Hey, Eddie, keep an eye out for bogies on our six.
TAIL GUNNER: Don't worry about it - I got our six covered,
long as Al stays awake in the ball covering my belly.
BALL GUNNER: No sweat!
With Fat Eddie's belly, the last should be easy.
(MAN CHUCKLES) Thought the tail was dragging a bit on take-off.
TAIL GUNNER: Hey, I'm not taking this shit
from a midget and a ginger!
NAVIGATOR: Entering primary target area. Two minutes to IP.
PILOT: Charlie, 'Ranger Red's going down.
MAN: Roger that, Pops.
TURRET GUNNER: Bogies - 4 o'clock, high, coming from the left side!
Eddie, wake up!
BALL GUNNER: I see them. Coming in fast!
MAN: Waves coming from the left side. Sonofabitch!
MAN 2: Passing on the right! MAN 3: Shit, that was close!
3 o'clock! Keep forward. MAN 4: They're coming your way/!
Left side, left side! One minute to the IP.
Got him, got him! Yes!
TAIL GUNNER: They're heading low. I can't get them.
MAN: There! MAN 2: Get them! Come on, get them!
TAIL GUNNER: Oh, shit, the 'Random Wrecker's going down in flames.
Count the chutes, Eddie.
None. Nobody got out.
Shit, we're getting slaughtered up here.
Archie, how far to Ragusa?
Almost there, Pops. Call it 30 seconds.
We're almost there. Keep your eyes on that compass and off the flak.
You let those boys worry about the fighters.
They're coming back!
I got him! I got the bastard! NAVIGATOR: Approaching target now.
Philly, you're on.
BOMBARDIER: Keep it steady, Pops, and I'll be as quick as I can.
Look alive, boys. Enemy fire - 12 o'clock, high.
Shit!
MAN: Look out! They're shooting at the nose!
Engine two is running a bit hot.
She might have taken a bullet on that pass.
Alright, keep an eye on it, but get back up on the gun.
MAN: Holy shit! There goes our tail end, Charlie.
That was a bit too close.
Opening bomb bay.
You mind holding her steady up there?
This ain't like throwing horseshoes.
Yeah, yeah, I'll take that under advisement.
Target is in sight. Bombs away.
(BOMBS WHISTLE)
Pops, Wally, come to a heading of 285 and get us the hell out of here.
POPS: Roger that. Turning to 285.
Good work, boys. We're headed home.
(ENGINE WHIRRS)
Hey, Pops, we got an engine fire!
TURRET GUNNER: Better shut it down, Pops. It's looking pretty bad.
It certainly appears that way. Feathering the prop.
(ENGINE SPUTTERS)
Hitting the extinguisher. Burt, go check on the other engines.
MAN: Engine three is out.
Engine two is running hot and red-lining.
Roger that.
Charlie, notify squadron lead
that we are damaged and unable to remain in formation.
Keep your eyes peeled, guys. We're about to be sitting ducks up here.
Three bogies - 12 o'clock, high.
MAN: They're forming up and coming in. They're breaking up.
TURRET: One's coming straight on! Oh, shit!
Jake! Jake! They got Jake! They got him!
Hang in there, Joe. I'm on my way.
They got Jake, Charlie. Help him out!
Charlie, help him out!
Jake?! They got him real bad.
They got him real bad. Jake?
MAN: They're forming up and coming in.
Jesus, get back on your gun, Joe! 3 o'clock high.
The other side! No, the other side! 3 o'clock!
Get an angle on him. Arggh!
Oh! Jesus! (GASPS)
Archie, go see what the hell's going on back there.
On my way, Pops.
TURRET: I got one making a run on the nose! I got him, got him!
MAN: Good shot, Burt. (SPEAKS INDISTINCTLY)
MAN 2: One down. Where the hell are the other two?
Charlie? Charlie?!
Charlie, you're OK. You're OK.
GUNNER: Bogy coming back around! Oh, shit!
He's making a pass underneath us!
Shit!
Archie, I need you in the cockpit. Now!
GUNNER: It looks like they're done. They're breaking off.
Archie, get Pops down. I need you in the pilot's position.
Come on, pal. We can do this.
Alright, here's the situation, fellas.
Pops...
...Pops isn't going home.
But we are,
we keep our heads level and do our jobs.
Now, we've lost hydraulics in one engine,
but we're making good airspeed and the controls are responsive.
Burt.
I need a damage report.
Right away, sir.
We'll be coming up on the Tunisian coastline in about an hour,
which means Navarin Field is about two hours out.
Charlie, I need you to advise them of our situation...
...that we are damaged and have casualties.
CHARLIE: Yes, sir.
MAN: We're below 10,000, guys. We can come off O2.
MAN 2: Hey, Wally, the hydraulics are shot.
We're gonna have to crank the gear down by hand.
WALLY: Roger that.
OK, here's the plan.
We're gonna crank the gear down.
As soon as we're over dry land,
those of us who are fit enough to jump are bailing out.
Archie and I, we're gonna try to land her in Navarin Field.
Sir, in my professional opinion, this bird is fit to land.
You sure about that?
(OVER RADIO) Damn sure.
Everybody in Charlie's cave.
(ARABIC CALL TO PRAYER PLAYS)
(CALL TO PRAYER CONTINUES IN DISTANCE)
Every fucking morning, the same wake-up call.
Arggh! (WHINES)
Every fucking morning, you complain about it.
You're getting about as predictable as the Arabs.
If they could just give it a rest one morning...
Why am I explaining myself to you? Fuck off!
Hair of the dog, Sergeant?
Fuck it.
(SIGHS)
(CLEARS THROAT) Good morning.
Morning.
I didn't know I had a new roommate.
We met last night, sir, but you were a little...
Drunk.
I was more than drunk. I was black-out shit-faced.
The only thing I can remember is canned ham and lima beans.
What was your name again?
Schmidt, sir. Michael Schmidt.
I'm assigned to 42-24503 as copilot.
She's called the 'Lucky Lass'.
If she ever flies again, welcome aboard.
If she ever flies again, sir?
If she doesn't, you and I can share a jeep back to the replacement depot.
I don't suppose you know when I can expect my gear to be delivered?
(SCOFFS)
Probably on the next supply truck in from Algiers.
I mean, wouldn't you know? You're the replacement.
I flew in with my luggage on the 'Lass'.
So what happened to the...
Are you always this talkative in the morning?
Sorry, sir.
I'm sorry.
I'm not feeling too well right now.
It's been a hard couple days.
Tell you what.
Get some coffee in me,
I'll answer all your questions after the briefing, alright?
But until then, please, shh.
(SIGHS)
So how's the batch?
(EXHALES)
It's refreshing. You got your money?
Yeah, I got my money. You guys flying today?
No, not us. Caparelli"s got our bird in hock. You?
Yeah, going back to Gerbini.
Gerbini? Then this one's on the house.
Thanks, Charlie.
Gerbini again? What's that? Five days in a row?
MAN: Yeah, something like that.
They ain't hardly shooting at us no more.
A little flak now and again.
We drop bombs, back in time for supper.
And here we are, stuck on the ground, doing fuck
while our crew chief figures out his ass from a socket wrench.
MAN: Ahem!
Hey, Burt. How's the hangover?
Hey, good morning, sir.
(SIGHS) Hey, guys. You got up late today.
Not a whole lot of incentive to get up before the Arabs start wailing
when we're not flying.
This guy with the Arabs!
You guys, they can't keep us on the ground forever.
If they didn't think the 'Lass' was gonna fly again
they would've reassigned us to other planes by now.
You got a point, sir, but just the same,
you mind walking down to the flight line?
Caparelli's been giving us the run-around
and we could really use the backup.
I would be delighted to.
Alright, this is good.
Why don't you take a look at Heckman's cowl flaps and also its hydraulics?
He complained about them on the last mission, OK?
Got you there. The rest of this looks good.
Excuse me, sir.
See to it.
What can I do for you there, Sergeant?
We're assigned to 42-24503.
That's McAllister's bird.
You can find them right down there on the left.
Thank you, sir.
Hey, pal? Pal?
Sergeant Martinez and Gascard reporting in.
Looking for Lieutenant McAllister.
Oh, for fuck's sake! Do I look like Lieutenant McAllister, huh?
I'm Vincent Caparelli.
But knowing Lieutenant McAllister,
he and his Mick crew are already drunk and pissing the day away.
Oh, well, we just figured we'd... Figured what?
You figured, what, you'd find the entire aircrew
just fawning over their broken bird,
just waiting for their replacement waist gunners to show up?
We don't know, but what would you suggest we do, Sergeant Caparelli?
Hey, Caparelli. These two giving you trouble?
Nothing I can't handle.
Besides, these two belong to you.
We're your new gunners. I'm Sergeant Gascard. This is Sergeant Martinez.
Go see Lieutenant Phelps over there.
He'll make sure you're in the right spot.
But we got business with Caparelli this morning.
Oh, come on. What do you want from me, huh?
I told you yesterday and the day before that, and the day before that.
We got a lot of planes on the ground.
After the krauts threw the entire Luftwaffe at us.
It's been five days.
Yeah? Your plane was shot to shit and it needed an engine rebuilt.
Look, we got a lot of crews working round the clock
to keep the planes where?
In the air and off the ground.
But they gotta sleep. Alright, look.
We appreciate all the hard work
you and your crew are putting in for the US Army Air Corps.
But our plane, specifically - How much longer?
Jesus Christ.
Alright, here.
42-24503 released for flight operations
as of July 11, 1943.
Holy shit. How fucking difficult was that?
It took us 10 hours to fly here from the States.
When we finally got here, they were so short of crew and planes,
the minute we landed,
they were already loading us up with bombs and fuel.
Within four hours, we were already up in the air on our first mission.
You're lucky.
I guess my point is, you know, you got some time to settle in.
I'm just anxious to fly, sir.
Well, anxious is good.
Everybody's anxious for their first flight.
By that fifth flight, huh, you're just hoping that...
...hoping your luck doesn't run out
when those fighters and flak show up.
It looks like your luggage finally caught up with you.
Yes, sir.
I guess that's that.
Hey, boss! Good news.
Caparelli designated the 'Lass' ready to fly.
We're back on the flight roster tomorrow.
That is good news.
This is Lieutenant Michael Schmidt. He's our new copilot.
How you doing? Archie Mason. Navigation.
Very nice to meet you. You too.
Alright, fellas, why don't we go ahead
and take our lunch in the 'Lass', check the girl out?
Sounds good.
Oh, hey, you got a little something on your... Ohh! (LAUGHS)
You'll get used to it. He's an asshole.
Over there is officers' country
which you should avoid unless you've got some business.
Now, over there is your latrine pits about 150 yards off.
Just follow the smell.
(BOTH CHUCKLE)
Over there is the mess tent.
You guys get a chance to get breakfast?
No, not yet. No.
You'll get a chance to get it tomorrow.
It's the same thing every day.
And over here, this is you. Two cots and a chair.
Go ahead and stow your shit.
Alright.
Yeah, so this is you.
Me, Eddie and Al are in the tent next to you.
Burt here is over on the end.
Why are you three crammed in a tent while Burt's all alone on the end?
And there she is. That's my girl.
BURT: It gets mighty hot in here next to the boiler
and it's hot enough as it is
so I used to cram in with Jake and Joe.
What the hell is that thing? It's a still, a pot still.
How'd you guys put that thing together?
Copper piping and tubing from a scrapped 17,
gasoline stove and one standard-issue oil drum.
That and about 20 gallons of aviation fuel.
Aviation fuel?
They blend in pure grain alcohol into avgas
to raise its octane for the aircraft.
So we just carefully boil it back out.
That's genius. Yeah, we know.
Take some of this moonshine, mix in a little water...
And a little lemon powder from the K-rats.
...you got yourself some Irish lemonade.
Ooh, that sounds good. Yeah.
Alright, I suppose there's enough room in our tent for a third.
Alright!
Provided we're included IN the distribution, of course.
Of course! BURT: Of course.
We got new gunners
and I think this is an appropriate situation for a celebration.
Heck yeah.
So, Charlie, do you think we have the stocks
for a few extra batches of hooch?
Pfft, I know we do.
Why don't you take these two to meet the lieuies
while Eddie scores us some female companionship for tonight?
Alright, alright. This way, boys.
Hey, we'll have refreshments by dinnertime.
You guys are late. We already checked her out.
They patched her up pretty good, though,
so we'll start the engines up after lunch.
This is Michael Schmidt, our new copilot from Iowa.
Oh, new gunners.
Tom and, uh...
Oliver. Oliver.
Welcome aboard.
Where's Charlie?
He's making sure that we have plenty of refreshment
for our little celebrations tonight.
MAN: Wally, can you get Ziri to find us something to chow on tonight?
Of course. It gives us more incentive to get all those checks done.
MAN 2: He's getting pretty girls, right?
MAN 3: Just drink until they get pretty.
MAN 1: It's a party.
Hell, I'll see if I can't get Ziri to cater the event.
Mmm! Oh, come on, guys. You gotta remember her.
The dark-haired girl with the green eyes
and the long legs and those big...
MAN: Your sister. (LAUGHS) No, your mother.
Hey, how you doing?
Oh, yeah. I remember that one.
What she had isn't anything
compared to the broads I got showing up here tonight...
Some local Red Cross nurses.
ALL: Alright! Yeah! Whoo!
MAN: Hello! Hey, Ziri. What'd you bring us?
It's a traditional Indian dish...
Spiced goat with couscous and mint sauce.
Cous-what? Couscous.
Look at this, guys. It looks good, alright?
Thank you, Ziri. I appreciate it. Oh, a pleasure.
MAN: Thank you, Ziri. Bye-bye. Goodnight.
Alright, boys, dig in.
There's no way in hell I'm eating that.
Yeah, I don't know. I got my dinner right here.
He worked very hard for this.
A goat died for this. And there's no way we're eating it.
Captain, isn't it against protocol to eat civilian food?
Michael, we won't tell anyone.
MAN 2: It's still moving, boss. Who wants K-rats?
MAN 3: Right here, right here. It's actually not that bad.
I'll take your word for it.
I'm telling you, it's nice, marinated...
We're passing. This is not gonna work.
Alright, fine. More for me. You guys enjoy your boxes.
(UPBEAT IRISH MUSIC) (ALL HOLLER AND LAUGH)
(SOMBRE MUSIC)
WALLY: Come on, kid. Drink up!
This is a wake.
To the batteries.
I don't drink, sir.
You do tonight. This is a wake.
Everybody drinks at a wake.
Listen up! To Pops.
You got us through flight training, you got us through Gerbini
and your spirit will get us through this war.
Hear, hear! ALL: Hear, hear!
To Jake and Joe. ALL: To Jake and Joe.
They were good fighters and good friends.
They will always be remembered.
To Jake and Joe. ALL: Hear, hear!
Schmidt, take a walk with me. Yes, sir.
MAN: Hey, we need more music!
(UPBEAT IRISH MUSIC PLAYS)
Just what we need - a fucking stiff.
SCHMIDT: Sir?
There's more to being a bomber pilot than just flying the plane.
I'm afraid I don't follow.
A pilot has to be more than just the guy who flies the plane.
He has to be a father, a brother, a friend, all at once.
He has to trust the men under his command and they have to trust him
or else it all goes to shit when it falls in the pot.
[...I'm trying my best.
No, you're not.
Do you even know what's going on in there?
Binge drinking and celebration of the plane being fixed?
No! It's coping.
When you're up there getting shot at,
watching the people you care about get killed,
you come back down and you drink
so you can wake up the next morning and do it all over again.
They were giving you a free pass, kid.
All you had to do was loosen up,
just raise your glass, drink your whiskey
and toast the man you're replacing
and those men would have followed you to hell and back.
But now you're gonna have to find a different way.
So the next time an opportunity comes along
for you and these men to bond like brothers
I advise you to take it.
(SIGHS)
Lieutenant? Lieutenant?
You have a mandatory briefing scheduled in 30 minutes.
Ohh...
(THUNDER CRACKS IN DISTANCE)
(BANGS POT)
Get your asses up!
(BANGS POT)
Up, up! Get them out of bed!
We got shit to deliver to the Italians. Let's go.
Let's go! Let's go!
(GROANS) Oh, Jesus.
You OK? Oh, man.
I can't find my socks.
I can't find anything right now.
Fellas. Hey, Wally.
Morning. How you doing, Philly?
Coffee, food... Anything would be good right now.
You gotta make it quick. Briefing in 15.
I think I'm still drunk, guys.
(DOOR OPENS)
(MAN YAWNS)
Morning, Monroe, sir.
Good morning.
Well, well, this is an interesting and quite extensive list
of items required, Sergeant, uh...
What was it? O'Hara.
Right.
Well, perhaps you can explain to me, Sergeant O'Hara,
the purpose of just a quarter of the items on this list.
Well, the rations are for the flight today
and the gasoline is for a tent stove.
A tent stove when it never gets below 95 degrees?
Chocolate bars, cigarettes, three emergency aid kits?
Baker's yeast?
What? My crew likes bread.
Let me remind you that the penalty
for selling army goods to the local population is quite severe.
Oh! I suggest you remember that.
You'll get your rations, but that'll be it for today, Sergeant.
Well, thank you - for your advice and your generosity.
There you are, O'Hara.
Thank you. Now, you take it easy.
Oh, I will, Miss Scarlett.
Good morning.
Today's target is the marshalling yard
located in the eastern coastal city of Catania.
This is going to be a longer than average mission
as the course selected
spans a good distance across the Mediterranean
and crosses Malta's southern reach.
This is to avoid over-flying the invasion force...
You OK, boss?
This particular target
has been getting bombed in some capacity since June
by RAF Wellingtons, Mitchells and Marauders,
but now that Husky's underway,
they want the heavies in there to finish the job.
(CHUCKLES) Well, ain't you two a pair of eager beavers.
Yeah, you could say that.
Always nice to make a good first impression.
Even so, I'm gonna save your lives
before you even take a step onto that plane.
How are you gonna do that?
You see that tent over there? The one with the black tent peg?
The best way to come back in one piece
is when you're ready to get on the plane
you stop and take a piss on it.
(SCOFFS) No.
Are you fucking kidding?
Second mission - heavy flak flying all over the place,
not a single hit on the plane.
Third mission - a piece of flak the size of a quarter
comes ripping through the tail, misses my head by three inches.
I'm telling you, pissing on that peg stops the flak from getting you.
What about Jake and Joe, the guys we're replacing, then?
Didn't they piss on the tent peg? Yeah.
Of course they did.
But it was fighters that got them, not flak. It's entirely different.
Just piss on the tent peg.
Just do it.
I'm not pissing on a tent peg.
I don't want any more of my buddies dying up there.
so just go piss on the fucking tent peg!
See? Now, there's a guy who's serious about his safety.
Nice work.
You're up.
You're saving your life!
And ours, more importantly.
Oh, God.
MAN: Hey, boss.
Ohh...
Jeez. You OK, boss? I'm fine.
You look like shit. Really, I'm fine.
I probably just drank too much last night.
Just the same, we're gonna let Schmidt here
do most of the flying today.
So how bad is it?
Not bad at all. It's a milk run, boys.
A softened-up marshalling yard with a full 12-bomber squadron flying.
Light flak if any, no fighters expected.
But they're sending us in with some Spitfires from Malta.
Thank fucking God.
Where's Al?
He's in our nose on oxygen trying to beat the hangover.
Oh, that sounds good. We should go join him.
Alright, fellas.
We're scheduled to be up in the air and in formation in 45
and on mission in two,
so let's... let's get our preflights all done, alright?
Jackpot! Bacon and cheese.
Shit. Pork and beans again.
GASCARD: OK, I understand the lemon powder from the K-rats,
but what's with the crackers?
What? These? These are for you, buddy.
When the Germans start shooting at us
you take these and you hook them out that window.
It fools the radar.
Seriously?
(ALL LAUGH)
(ENGINES DRONE)
WOMAN ON RADIO: Good morning, boys.
This is Berlin calling with the tunes you like to hear
in a friendly voice for these dark...
Hey, guys, I found us Axis Sally.
How about some kraut propaganda to pass the time?
AXIS SALLY: ..being crushed on the beaches of Sicily
after their failed paratroopers...
That's my girl! Turn her up! (LAUGHS)
AXIS SALLY: ..they just had bad luck,
that the wind wasn't right
and that they just didn't have their hearts in it.
And that poor, poor sergeant...
ARCHIE: 40 minutes to IP.
WALLY: Roger, Arch.
AXIS SALLY: ..got shot to bits
while climbing down the tree he landed in.
AXIS SALLY: Well, I suppose they'll get along alright.
You got her?
...think he had a chance, but only time will tell.
So to all you boys going ashore today, good luck.
(AXIS SALLY CONTINUES)
CHARLIE: Hey, boss, I got a message from Able.
Extensive cloud cover is extending over the target area.
We're instructed to use the clouds as cover
until our turn towards the IP.
Descend at 18,000 feet at three degrees angle of descent.
Roger that, Charlie.
(GAS PS) Changing... vector.
(GAGS)
(GAGS AND COUGHS)
Oh... (GAGS) Oh, God.
Shit!
What's wrong, sir? (RETCHES) Oh, fuck.
Burt, give me a helmet.
What for?
Just give me a goddamn helmet!
(VOMITS)
(GAGGING AND RETCHING OVER RADIO)
(WALLY GAGS) Fuck!
(CONTINUES VOMITING)
Hey, Charlie, make a log entry.
Spiced goat with couscous - Bad preflight cuisine choice.
You OK, boss?
I'm fine. Feeling a lot better now.
What the hell do I do with this?
WALLY: Give it back to Ziri.
Mike, can you take the yoke for a while?
I need a moment.
(SOMBRE MARTIAL MUSIC)
Sir, I had my eye on Baker 1 the entire time! I...
You mean you weren't flying by instruments in this soup?!
Dammit! Dammit!
Archie, tell me where the hell we are.
Uhh...
Wally, uh, you're gonna need to give me a moment to figure this out.
Wherever we are, we got company - 109s.
I count four... Five coming up fast!
Wally, what the hell's going on up there?
Wanna fill in the rest of the family?
We're off-course and we've got incoming fighters.
Eyes open, gentlemen. Hold on tight.
We don't have any formation to stay in
so I'm gonna try to make us a harder target.
(RAPID GUNFIRE)
Moving to the right side. Moving left to right!
MAN: Where?! Right side, 3 o'clock.
Wait. He's pulling off. Get that sonofabitch!
He's heading your way! He's coming your way. Take him!
(GUNNERS YELL INDISTINCTLY)
AL: Eddie, he's pulling off. Get him, get him, get him!
MAN: Burt, he's heading your way. Get that sonofabitch.
MAN 2: He's now on your Six. Get him, get him! Oh, shit!
MAN: Coming round again! Get him! Get that bastard!
Look out! Here he comes!
(ENGINE DRONES)
Motherfucker! They're all over the place! Shit!
Charlie, get on the radio,
request immediate assistance from any friendlies in the area.
Way ahead of you, boss.
I might have some boys from the 57th on their way home to Tunis.
WALLY: Roger.
Left side, 3 o'clock, low. Where? I don't see him.
He's pulling off. Look out! Which way? Where?
Shit, shit!
No, wait. He's pulling in.
(GUNNERS YELL FRANTICALLY)
Coming up on your six. Get them!
Right side! Bogy on your right side!
He's heading your way! Alright, there he is!
Get the sonofabitch! Left side, 3 o'clock, low.
Where? I don't see him. He's pulling off.
Where? Where?
Wally, they have seen the fireworks and they are heading our... Fuck!
Tell them to get here a hell of a lot faster or they'll miss the party.
If I keep this up, boss, I'm gonna run low on ammo.
BURT: I'm getting low too.
OK, fellas, make every shot count. We got help on the way.
Hey, Wally, I think they're not screwing with us.
They're forming up on our Six.
Alright, boys, don't hold back.
Now, we're only gonna get one shot at those 109s,
'cause once those fighters make their run at us,
there's not gonna be much left of the 'Lass' up here.
Now, you boys make sure your chutes are clear and ready to hook up.
And I'll see you on the ground.
MAN: Alright, they're coming into range.
Fuck, this is it. Let's make them pay for that kill!
Wait a minute. Incoming friendly, 6 o'clock high.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
Warhawks, boys! Whoo, yeah!
Give "em hell, boys.
This is Yankee One. Sorry we're late. You guys OK?
Better late than never.
We're low on ammo and taking a beating.
Roger. We'll try and draw them off you.
Yankee Two, break left. I've got this one.
MAN: Wilco, I'm on them. Yankee One, you got a bogy on your six.
I see him.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
The fighters have taken care of a few, but we've still got plenty to deal with.
Archie, I'd love to know which direction I should be going.
ARCHIE: I'm still working on it, boss, but south is a good bet.
I've got that much covered. Let me know when you got a heading.
MAN 1: Guys, we're entering formation.
Right side. Left to right.
Left side, 3 o'clock.
(GUNNERS SHOUT INSTRUCTIONS)
They're coming up on our Six. Get "em, get 'em, get 'em!
WALLY: I hope those fighters are having a better time than we are.
Alright, you bastard. Let's see if you can keep up.
Come on, follow me.
Yeah, that's it. Let's go for a little climb.
Come on, come on!
Just a little higher. Come on.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
Alright, now you're mine.
Blitzed one!
PILOT: Nice shooting, Yankee One. Got mine too.
That's two more down. Let's head back.
Roger.
GUNNER: Formation. Right side, left to right.
One's coming your way, take him.
Left side. I got him!
Get him, get him, get him!
(GUNNERS SHOUT INSTRUCTIONS)
GUNNER: Get the fuck off of us!
Yes! Take that, you kraut fuck!
MAN: Looks like they're breaking off.
Guess they ain't got a taste for targets that shoot back.
WALLY: Roger that!
PILOT: They are bugging out, Baker Two.
Now, we got enough fuel to get you back to the Med.
You promise not to get info more trouble once you're there?
On my honour, Yankee One.
Next time you're in Navarin, drinks are on me.
Roger that, Baker One. Yankee One, out.
WALLY: Charlie, go ahead and send a message out to Navarin.
Tell them about our situation and we're aborting the mission.
Archie, get us home.
ARCHIE: Alright, boss. Turn to one-niner-eight.
Turning to one-niner-eight.
Sir, I-I'm sorry.
You gotta be kidding me.
That's one more mission we're not getting credit for.
(SOMBRE IRISH MUSIC)
(PLANE ENGINE DRONES)
I just passed the doc on the way over.
Yeah, he said I had mild food poisoning.
(SIGHS) Didn't feel so mild to me,
but he said I'm supposed to be feeling better soon.
He gave me some Pepto-Bismol.
I'm sorry about screwing up today, sir. It won't happen again.
Yeah, I know it won't happen again.
Come on in, Michael. Have a seat.
You know you only fuck up that bad once.
You can't let that happen again.
Of course, you're supposed to get that out of your system in flight training,
but things happen.
You fucked up on a milk run, kid.
You're certainly not gonna win a popularity contest with the crew.
What can I do to smooth this over?
(LAUGHS) I'm not sure there's much you can do.
But if I were you, I'd walk out there with my head hung low, apologise
and drink with those men until they forgot what I did wrong.
I'm not sure about the drinking, sir, but I can certainly apologise.
(CHUCKLES)
Well, it's a start.
They're probably on their way to the chow tent or the still.
You can go catch them.
(CHUCKLES)
O'HARA: Yeah, so, Lieutenant Flak Magnet...
Uh, what was I talking about?
MAN 2: You were talking about that stiff, Schmidt.
Oh, yeah! Mr Flak Magnet did his best to get us killed on mission today.
MAN 3: Lieutenant Schmidt should
just stay on his fucking side of the field from now on.
That's all I'm saying.
MAN 4: I don't think the army puts up with taking a baseball bat to an officer,
regardless of how bad he fucked up.
O'HARA: Yeah, but fucking up on a milk run?
All I know is my crew's ready to disappear his ass into the desert
and take our chances with the next replacement.
What about Mason, your navigator? I heard he went to flight school.
What? Archie went to flight school?
Yeah.
How the hell did he become a navigator?
Well, he went to be a fighter pilot, but they washed him out.
Why? What did he do to deserve that?
Aren't you a nosy little spic?!
Well, count me in the nosy column too, then.
Alright, alright.
I might have heard he crashed a trainer on the runway.
(ALL LAUGH)
The CAA kinda frowns on that, so they washed him out.
Yeah, well, maybe landing ain't Mason's strong suit,
but even so, he could have flown a compass heading
through a couple of clouds.
Yeah, I mean, flying instruments Is supposed to be
basic training for a pilot.
Fucking Schmidt couldn't even do that.
Shit, even Al could do that. AL: What's that supposed to mean?
How you doing, Wally?
(LAUGHS) I think the cure is worse than the disease.
(LAUGHS) I hear that.
Brought you something to eat.
Oh, I don't think I can stomach that right now.
Oh, come on now.
I know it's not the usual Berber fare you've come to enjoy.
(LAUGHS) Yeah.
Food poisoning aside, you OK?
(SIGHS)
Never thought I'd have to sit in the pilot's seat
and be the den mother to a pack of hooligans
and a clueless copilot who can't find his ass with both hands and a map.
No, but you're better at it than you think.
Ah, maybe.
Whether I'm good at it or not, though, Arch,
I wasn't ready for this all to fall in my lap.
If we waited until we were ready for things to happen before we did anything,
we'd never do anything.
(CHUCKLES)
I suppose you're right, Arch.
Ow! Course I'm right.
I'm always right.
And yet so humble.
Yeah, that too.
Feel better, boss.
Hey, Tommy, try this on the wires.
(DISTANT RUSHING)
Yeah? Hey, chief, chief.
Come here.
You should see this.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
Hey, get those engines covered!
Get the engines covered now! Come on, move it!
(MEN SHOUT INDISTINCTLY)
Come on, Burt, come on. It's nearly on us.
Yeah, and we're gonna be thirsty.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC CONTINUES)
It's a sandstorm.
They come up every now and again.
Problem?
Yeah.
Yeah, I'm thinking about asking to be transferred to another plane.
I take it the apology didn't go well, then, huh?
Let's just say I get the impression that they didn't want to hear one.
Just give them a night to cool off. They'll come around.
Yeah, well, I'm doing my best, I really am.
I just... I'm not sure that I can be Pops.
I think that'd be an unreasonable request on their part.
I do know something that's gonna help, though.
What's that?
Flak.
When it's thick enough to walk on and you're up there in it with them.
You're telling me that I should pray for flak,
so that a bunch of guys who hate me
will stop hating me and learn to trust in me.
Yeah. Something like that.
Good news is this is a shooting war and everything,
so it's just a matter of time.
You ever feel like you're living on borrowed time?
Yeah. Every second of the day.
Luckily, there is medication for that, though.
Go ahead. Pick the bottle up and take a swig.
It's good for you. It's gonna ease the nerves.
(LAUGHS)
That's really terrible.
Yeah, but it works.
Get some rest. We fly in the morning.
(URINATES)
Ever get déjà vu?
Every goddamn day.
Finally.
What the fuck?
I'm gonna shit in your fucking canteen!
Fucking asshole.
You are going down, Al, my friend.
Give me two. Oh, who dealt me this hand?
Come on, are we gonna play some cards
or are we gonna play some cards?
(ALL CHATTER)
Fellas.
CHARLIE: Hey, Captain. Hey, boss.
CHARLIE: Oh, great, Flak Man. Lucky us!
Guess he survived the sandstorm.
I'm still feeling a little under the weather.
Why don't you take the pilot's seat today?
You sure about that, Captain?
Let's do the preflights. Yes, sir.
Go ahead.
Man, that numbnut farm boy couldn't find his asshole
from a hole in the ground.
Hey, Tommy, how much you wanna bet he fucks up this mission too?
(SOLEMN MUSIC)
CHARLIE: I am taking you guys to the cleaners!
MAN: Yeah, not with this hand.
Oh, Jesus!
First he blows a mission, now he's screwing up our poker game.
I had a hand.
Reducing power.
Cowl flaps.
WALLY: Checked out.
Landing gear.
WALLY: Up and locked.
What was that jolt?
I don't know. Give me a moment, boss.
OK, fellas, we're the last ones up. Proceed to 20,000ft.
Yeah? Roger that.
Taking her to 20, 000ft.
What the hell?
WALLY: Burt, we got a problem here.
I know, I'm seeing it.
On engines three and four, oil pressure is rising.
Yeah, I'm having trouble staying in formation here.
BURT: I can imagine. I'm gonna play with the mixture.
See if you can keep up with them while I do it.
This isn't working. We're gonna have an engine fire at this rate.
WALLY: Understood. Throttle back.
BURT: Engine three is out.
And now engine four's out!
Yeah, give me a moment, boss. I'm checking things out.
Oh, no. These engines are running way hot.
What's the air speed, Burt? What's the situation?
BURT: Two just went out. We're down to one engine.
Still working on the problem, boss. Give me a minute.
SCHMIDT: That might be optimistic.
BURT: Keep her in the air. I'm gonna work on engine three.
OK, boss, I've done about all I can.
Go ahead and give engine three a try.
Burt, we're way too heavy to be flying on one engine.
I can't lean on the mixture anymore. Air's too thin up here.
We need to reduce altitude.
WALLY: Roger. Michael, drop the nose, take us down fast.
OK, boss, let's give it a try now.
OK, Burt, engines three and four are up.
Trying two.
WALLY: Alright, we got two back up.
Pull up!
Oh, hey, Wally, why is there a mountain outside my window?
I'll do it. Let it come from me.
(SOLEMN IRISH MUSIC)
Notify Able One we are aborting mission
due to mechanical failure.
CHARLIE: That's two milk runs in a row.
EDDIE: That's six in a row.
Just 'cause we weren't flying don't mean we didn't miss 'em.
CHARLIE: What's the matter, Eddie? You thinking we're jinxed?
EDDIE: No. We ain't jinxed.
It's that wop Caparelli. He's fucking with us, I know it.
Hey, chief... Jesus Christ!
Don't you fuckers know how to knock?
Sorry, Cap, but the tower reports there's a bird coming back.
Which one? It's the 'Lass', Cap.
(SIGHS) Jesus. The bad penny that keeps turning up.
Alright, let me get dressed. I'll be out there in 10.
Roger.
No, what I do want is for you to open the fucking engines and fix that shit!
Look, half the fucking crews are in their racks, alright?
Those shifts were up all night - All night!
Getting sand off that runway, OK?
Alright, alright, alright. You again!
Yeah. You gonna fix the fucking engine or not?
Not in 100-degree heat I'm not.
MAN: We work in it. Where's your pilot?
He's finishing the post-flight checklist.
Now, what the fuck is wrong with our plane?
(SIGHS)
(SOMBRE MUSIC)
I want your word this plane will be flying by tomorrow.
Is that clear, Sergeant Caparelli?
(LAUGHS) Well, you know, all due respect, sir,
I can't certify a plane without looking at it.
Then look at it! Do I need to pull rank for you to do your fucking job?
I didn't put a crew on a bird in the middle of the day
even after half the squadron was shot to shit at Gerbini.
That's why we don't work from 9 to 5! Enough!
Look, if you don't want the crew working during the day, that's fine.
But I want this plane looked at the instant crews are available.
You got that? I'll put the first crew on tonight.
Oh, man, she is gone. The girl has completely fucking blown.
(SIGHS)
Don't worry, buddy. We'll be OK.
PHILLY: Another scratched mission,
and another few tons of bombs into the Med.
Oh, relax, Philly.
I've been assured by the army that the cost of expended ordnance
is not gonna come out of our pay cheques.
It's not our pay checks I'm worried about, Archie.
It's that kraut Schmidt.
We go six missions without a hitch...
Oh, yeah, Gerbini, that was smooth as silk.
At least we were over the target.
Give the kid a break. Those big birds are hard to fly.
He'll loosen up. Alright, alright.
I'll give the stiff a chance.
Alright.
You're not gonna get all mushy and sentimental on me
about starting on that wop, right?
(LAUGHS) Who, Caparelli? Yeah.
Fuck, no - that guy deserves all the shit
we can toss at him.
EDDIE: Guess it wasn't much of a milk run after all.
AL: Holy shit.
You find out what happened?
No, not specifics.
I was out with Caparelli on the 'Lass'. They came in.
Sounds like it all fell in the pot up there.
Lots of casualties.
That is not good.
No, it's not good.
Wally, am I the one that's jinxed?
Look, if we hadn't had that failure,
we'd have been shot up with the rest of the squadron.
Best thing we can do is just not think about it much.
You're no more jinxed than the rest of us.
When we're up in that plane, our lives are in God's hands.
Whiskey?
Hmm.
Appropriate choice.
I'm starting to see the need for it.
Yesterday, our mission at Messina went horribly wrong.
Intel screwed up,
electing to divert our escort to a higher-risk mission,
believing there was no capacity for the Luftwaffe to operate in Sicily.
They were wrong.
But today, gentlemen, we are going to remedy that problem
and strike the offending aerodrome in Catania.
Now, the old man has secured us a squadron of Warhawks from Tunisia.
They will escort us to and from the target
in case any uninvited guests show up this time.
Now, we'll be mixing up the planes and crews for this operation,
flying some of the older E models that we hold as reserves,
so be sure to check your posting before heading to the flight lines.
Now, for the meat and potatoes.
I'm on 41-001-niner. What do you guys got?
42-3819. 'Iris B...
Uh... I'm on the 'Bugs' with Al. Least I'll have some company.
That's good.
I'm unassigned, fellas. Sorry.
What are you apologising for? That's great.
Somebody has to keep on Caparelli, make sure he stays on our plane.
You stay on him.
Yeah, if our plane ain't flying, with all the casualties floating around,
they just reassign us to new slots.
He's right.
You coming, Arch? Yeah, go ahead.
I'll catch up with you guys.
Hey, Mikey, look, don't let that greaseball give you any excuses, alright?
Caparelli can be kind of a prick, but he's good at his job.
Just, uh, see to it that our plane gets fixed.
We"ll all go up, do our job and... and then we'll go home.
Alright, Archie.
We'll see you tonight.
Alright. Thanks.
EDDIE: Just fucking take it, Al.
It's yours, brother. I couldn't take it.
It's good luck. Take it.
BURT: While there's still a fucking war, Al.
You better have something waiting for us when we get back.
I don't know about those guys,
but if I have to spend seven hours in a ball
listening to the corn-fed yokels on the 'Bugs'
whine about how they miss their momma's apple pie back on the farm,
I'm gonna need a stiff one.
Well, I'll see what I can do, but the still's gone.
Perhaps you remember the big fireball yesterday.
You're a shifty little fuck with no moral compass.
You won't let me down.
Yeah, I guess I am.
I'll see what I can do.
Hey, take care of that little guy.
Yeah, make sure you bring that back too, Al.
CAPARELLI: Alright, gentlemen, listen up.
I know it seems like we, uh, never get a break.
But scuttlebutt says there's a big operation coming up,
and Captain Shea's put a lot of pressure on us
to get these battle-damaged planes in the air
or, uh, condemned and pulled for parts, so...
Well, I don't know about the rest of the crews,
but we won't let you down, Cap.
(SIGHS) Yeah.
I know you won't.
That's it.
Get lost.
Get some rest.
Didn't catch a plane today, Lieutenant... uh, Schmidt, was it?
That's right. Right, yeah.
You're with the Mick crew. That's right.
I remember you. What can I help with you today?
You can tell me the status of the 'Lucky Lass'...
Excuse me one second. Ladies, what is this? Amateur theatre?
I said get lost! Get some rest!
Goddamn. Uh, right, the 'Lass'.
We checked out the engines that were reported faulty.
I found nothing evidently wrong with them.
Uh... the engines were started and nothing abnormal was detected, so...
So that's your diagnosis...
There's nothing mechanically wrong with the engines?
Well, that's what the engineers wrote down.
I mean, they cleared her for flight operations tomorrow.
I was in the pilot's seat when we were unable to stay in formation.
There was power loss at 15,000ft.
Mm-hm.
You know, I'm getting tired of repeating myself on this, OK?
We looked at it. We couldn't find anything wrong.
Maybe it's a gremlin or maybe it's just bad luck,
but there's sure as shit nothing wrong mechanically with that bird.
OK.
Two things, Sergeant Caparelli.
First, I'm an officer,
so please try and show some semblance of respect for my rank.
I'm sorry, sir, it's just...
And second, I might be new to this outfit
and the odd man out on that bird, but she's still my bird.
I understand that, sir, it's just...
Now, I can overlook the disrespect to me,
"cause I'm a good Lutheran boy and was taught to turn the other cheek,
but the 'Lass' is another story.
I don't know where this gremlin is living on my plane, Sergeant,
but you and I are gonna find it.
Today.
Now.
No, I can understand the urgency... sir.
It's just that SOP is to refrain from working crews in the midday sun.
Is that SOP something the CO put in place?
Sir, all due respect, it's 105 degrees in the shade.
My men are not going out there.
OK.
(CLEARS THROAT) Uh...
Find me your two best mechanics.
Between the four of us, there should be enough hands
to go through all the engines in no time.
Really? The four of us?
Well, I used to help fix tractors on my family's farm back home.
I'm a fair hand with a wrench.
You tell me what to do and I'll do it, right there next to you in the 105 heat.
Well, OK. I'll, uh... I'll see if I can find you some volunteers.
Good man.
Let's meet by the 'Lass' in, say, 20 minutes?
Uh, and, Sergeant?
When we fly tomorrow, I want that gremlin dead and buried.
Yes, sir.
Shit.
Come on, Eddie. We got to think of something.
I know. I'm thinking.
I got an idea. What is it?
We go check out a jeep.
We head into Constantine, we go to the Red Cross
and we get some beer and some wine
and see if we can trade for something stronger.
I already did that. No dice.
And all the really hard cases, they went last night.
And this morning all the badly wounded went off to regimental.
They won't be back till tonight.
Man, we are SOL.
I bet nobody at the O club would even miss a few bottles
when the planes come back.
They are loaded over there.
You gonna do it?
I was kinda thinking you should do it. Oh, yeah.
Yeah, you know, you're faster. But I'll look out.
I'm risking my ass on this one.
You keep your eagle eye out for that fuck Monroe.
Absolutely. Absolutely.
Let's get some fucking hooch.
SCHMIDT: What's that right there? Looks like the oil pump.
It is.
Our flight engineer said we had high oil pressure
right before we aborted, so...
How's the oil pump looking?
Like a brand-new oil pump, Cap.
We replaced it... three weeks ago?
Let's pull it out and take a look, just to be safe.
We replaced it three weeks ago, sir.
Just pull it for the lieutenant, Lou.
We really did just replace those.
Well, it's exactly where I'd hide if I was a gremlin.
The ground crew could replace the pumps and the screens tonight.
I don't know, Cap.
Judging by the amount of sand and grit in this screen,
there must have been a gap or something in the engine covering
in that last sandstorm.
Sorry, sir.
Don't apologise. You just missed it, it's alright.
Well, we found that gremlin after all, hey, Sergeant?
I suppose we did.
Sir.
I thank you, sir, for going the extra mile for my bird and her crew.
I'll make sure they know you did.
Yeah, well, why don't you wait to thank me till after you get the bill?
(TENSE MUSIC)
Sir, thank God I found you.
Likewise - I've got good news.
Yeah? I don't.
You got any idea when Wally's bird's coming back?
Based on the briefing this morning, it should be within the hour.
Why? What's going on?
What's going on is our bird's gonna be down one radio operator.
I don't follow.
MPs escorted him back to our tent,
where they waited for him to put on his dress uniform.
Fucking prick Monroe.
QM... he caught him stealing.
Stealing what?
Sir, the still blew up.
Shit.
Where is he now?
I don't know. I don't know.
I beat feet out here as soon as I figured out what was going on,
but I imagine he's on his way to see the old man by now.
OK.
MONROE: When I opened the box,
I found no less than seven one-litre bottles of alcohol.
And having observed Sergeant O'Hara leaving the officers' club
no more than a few minutes prior,
there's no question as to the source of the stolen goods.
The penalties provided by the Uniform Code of Military Justice
are quite clear when it comes to the case of larceny.
Do you have an explanation or defence in these actions?
Well, I was over in the officers'...
Colonel, sir.
Lieutenant Michael Schmidt, copilot of the aircraft
that Sergeant O'Hara's assigned to.
Well, Lieutenant, your crew member
was just caught stealing alcohol from the officers' club,
so I don't expect he'll be assigned to your aircraft for much longer.
So I've heard. Thank you.
Has Sergeant O'Hara given an explanation for his actions yet?
No, Mr Schmidt, he was about to give us his side when you walked in.
That's good, sir. I'm certain I can explain.
It was my fault.
You see, our plane had an early return yesterday
due to a mechanical issue.
After working on it all day, we determined the cause
to be sand in the fuel and oil lines.
The crew chief has replaced the fuel pump and fuel screens.
However, there is still quite a bit of build-up in the lines
of sediment and sludge.
The problem, sir, is that the acetone used to clean engine parts
will eat through the rubber hoses.
Replacing them will cause us to be grounded another day.
So the crew chief had suggested to use an alcohol as a solvent
to flush out the lines.
Really?
I asked Sergeant O'Hara here to locate some.
I had expected that he would go to the quartermaster and request it.
However, I didn't clarify or specify,
nor did I draft any orders.
I'm sorry, sir. I wasn't thinking.
And I'd hate for him to be court-martialled for stealing
due to an oversight on my part.
Lieutenant Schmidt. Sir.
It was irresponsible,
in borderline dereliction,
to order an airman under your direct authority
to acquire an item for your plane without clear instructions...
Colonel, you can't actually be buying this story.
Lieutenant Monroe, are you now accusing a fellow officer of collusion?
Some sort of conspiracy to steal army property?
No, sir.
Not at all, but I just...
Then I suggest that you stop wasting my time with this chicken shit.
I got a war to fight, son, and a bomb group to command,
and unless there's a soldier in this unit
that is directly harming the war effort through a deliberate action to do so,
I would prefer that you take that up with that man's direct superior.
Do you understand? Are we clear, Lieutenant Monroe?
Yes, sir. Clear.
COLONEL: Good.
You may go.
Get your solvent, Sergeant O'Hara, and be on your way.
Yes, sir.
Sergeant.
Just one more question.
Yes, sir?
With all the alcohol you could have selected at the officers' club,
why the seven bottles of Scotch whisky?
Well, the 'Lucky Lass' Is an Irish plane, sir,
and as such she has discriminating tastes.
Sir.
Get out of here.
Yes, sir.
Sergeant. Yes, sir?
Now you may go.
Yes, sir.
MAN ON P.A.: Attention, all personnel. Due to the recent explosion...
First he handles Caparelli like a grifter at a fucking fair.
He gets him to take apart and clean all our engines.
Then this fucking kraut,
he has time to come across the entire base
to save my bacon.
He sure did, but I was about to spill.
Good job today. We owe you one.
And Charlie here, he owes you two.
One last item of business.
Here's to dedication,
perseverance
and the balls the size of a 500 pound bomb.
I hereby declare Lieutenant Michael Schmidt an honorary Irishman,
with all the benefits...
And limitations.
...and limitations that such an honour confers.
Hear, hear. ALL: Hear, hear!
Welcome aboard, Lieutenant O"Schmidt.
(ALL LAUGH)
Gentlemen, I want to say thank you.
That's it. That's all I got.
(ALL LAUGH)
Good morning, gentlemen.
The brass and the politicians
have finally sorted out the specifics for this operation,
because today, gentlemen, we are hitting Rome.
This is to be a precision bombing.
We will be flying at 10,000ft.
The good news is that after Gerbini, the brass is convinced
that the Diamondbacks are the right men for the job.
Roosevelt has been in contact with the Vatican
and made certain assurances to the Pope.
As a result of the concerns over damaging irreplaceable historical sites
and harming the civilian population,
two days ago the RAF began dropping pamphlets.
These pamphlets, as it were,
indicate the areas we will be bombing
and warning the civilian population to avoid them.
The flak is expected to be extensive.
Good luck and godspeed.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
ARCHIE ON RADIO: Coming up on our turn to the IP.
Turn to heading 3-4 in 30 seconds.
Roger that, Archie.
Thanks.
You ready for this, Mike?
Yes, sir.
Hellfires, boss.
WALLY: Roger. Flak.
Keep your eye on the compass, not the flak.
When Archie tells us it's time,
we're gonna turn and keep her straight and level.
Got it? Got it.
TOM: Holy shit! Is it always this bad?
Nah. Sometimes ifs worse.
ARCHIE: Make your heading to 34 degrees
in five, four, three, two, one.
Go!
At the IP, Philly. The bird is yours.
ARCHIE: Roger that. Let's see some precision bombing.
Those SOBs are hiding 88s in church courtyards.
You thought they'd leave them where they said we'd bomb?
Yeah, well, it still seems shifty to me.
File a complaint with Mussolini.
ARCHIE: Shit! I think they've figured out our altitude, boss!
How much longer, Philly?
A minute. Almost over target.
Squadron leader reports no fighters in the AQ.
Not that they need 'em - You could walk on this goddamn flak.
(CRIES OUT)
Oh, shit!
Charlie, Charlie, we need you up here right now. They got Burt.
Come on, Charlie.
Fuck! Christ! Fuck!
Fuck, Mike! My fucking eyes!
(SHOUTS AND GROANS)
ARCHIE: 30 seconds. Target in sight.
(DRAMATIC MUSIC)
ARCHIE: Opening bomb bay doors.
I think their aim's getting better, boss, they're getting metal in my ball.
Oh, Jesus Christ!
ARCHIE: Almost there.
Hold steady...
Bombs away!
Breaking formation on planned RTB.
Oh, fuck me!
Jesus Christ, bank left, bank left!
WALLY: Oh, shit! What the hell happened?
WALLY: Neutralise the elevators!
Approaching stall.
(SHOUTS)
(ENGINE DRONES)
ARCHIE: Hang on, hang on!
(SHOUTS INDISTINCT INSTRUCTIONS)
We're losing power!
We're going into a spin, boys. Hold on!
Hold her left. Left, left!
(SHOUTS)
SCHMIDT: D-90's not responding. No snap.
Losing two.
Altitude, altitude!
(ARCHIE SHOUTS INSTRUCTIONS)
Mike, come on! We're gonna go!
3,000ft at 300 knots. Come on, Mike, pull back!
2,200ft, 400 knots.
Come on, stay with me here!
1,000ft.
Hold on, boys, hold on!
Come on, come on, hold on!
900ft. Pull back on the yoke, pull up!
Holy Mary, mother of God, we are lifted!
(WALLY SHOUTS INSTRUCTIONS)
Arch, I need a heading.
Archie!
Taking serious flak! Get us the hell out of here!
Captain, we hit some turbulence and gathered some flak.
Oh, Jesus Christ!
I'm OK, I'm OK. I'm good.
You scared the shit out of me!
Argh!
ARCHIE: Hang in there, boys.
Looks like we're almost to the edge of the city.
SCHMIDT: Engine four just went out! Hitting the extinguisher.
Fire's out, Wally.
ARCHIE: OK, OK, looks like we're getting out of range, boss.
Lieutenant...
Hey, Lieutenant?
Everybody OK back there?
I'm good.
I'm OK.
Radio's OK.
Burt's hurt, sir, but I think he's coming around.
Philly, Archie, Tom, Oliver, check in.
AL: I'm OK. Philly's gone.
Tom, Oliver, check in.
Are you OK, boss?
I'm uninjured. I don't need you up here.
Go back and check on our gunners.
OK, I'm on it. Come on, Burt.
Take it easy.
Archie? I need you up in the cockpit.
(COUGHS)
SCHMIDT OVER RADIO: Archie! I need you up here now!
Archie, I can't keep her steady. I need your help.
(GROANS AND GASPS)
Hey, keep it together for me, buddy, come on.
CHARLIE: Tom's gone. Oliver's wounded, but I'm taking care of him.
Roger.
I got a peek out the nose - I got an idea of where we are.
There's a lot of water to go over to get back home.
SCHMIDT: Alright, guys, here's the situation.
Wally's... gone.
But we're still here and we're gonna make it home.
We're not far from Tunisia.
Once we're over land, Eddie, Charlie, out.
You're gonna bail out and locate friendlies on the ground.
What about Burt and Oliver?
After the crew bails out, Archie and I will stay behind
to land with the wounded in Malta.
If we make it that far.
(LAUGHS AND COUGHS)
SCHMIDT: Al, how does the 'Lass' look from where you're sitting?
AL: Apart from the blown-up engine and lots of new holes?
A little smoke off number one engine,
but otherwise she looks OK to me.
I think I speak for all of us - We could be a crater in Rome right now.
I don't think the 'Lass' got us through all this just to give up on us now.
Alright.
Well, you boys hold on back there.
I gotta get some altitude if we're gonna fly over Sicily.
(SOLEMN MUSIC)
Charlie?
You hang in there, buddy.
We're almost home, alright?
CHARLIE: Hey, farm boy, I just got word from Ben Gardane field.
They have us on radar. AL: Engine one is out.
CHARLIE: Archie, feather the prop.
(ARCHIE GROANS)
Well, it lasted longer than we thought it would.
Hey, Charlie, any further instructions from the RAF base?
CHARLIE: We're about 35 miles out, sir.
Roger that.
Do they have a cleared runway for us?
CHARLIE: Yeah, they do.
Ben Gardane field, home of the 601st Squadron!
Hey, Charlie, I'm still new at this job.
Why does it sound like you're giving me bad news?
CHARLIE: Because Ben Gardane's runway
is made to land Spitfires, not heavy bombers.
It's only 1,600ft long.
I see. Well, let them know we're on approach.
Reducing speed.
Lowering gear.
Uh, hey, the gear isn't down.
SCHMIDT: It didn't lower?
No, it lowered, it just sort of fell off on the left side.
Well, that certainly complicates things.
Alright, gentlemen, change of plans.
This girl's got damaged flaps, one engine,
no elevators and unusable gear on a short runway.
There's landing and then there's crashing.
I think we're gonna cut out early from this dance.
Al, you still awake back there?
Yeah, I'm here.
Come up out of that ball.
Collect chutes, get Burt and Oliver rigged up,
and I'll be back there to help in a sec.
Check the trim?
Yeah.
(GROANS)
(SHOUTS) Oh, hey, forget that.
Grab Burt. Get ready to bail.
Fuck.
(GROANS)
As soon as you're out, Burt, pull.
Charlie will take care of you.
BURT: You got me, buddy?
I got you, buddy. I'm right behind you.
This is your cord. Soon as you're out, you pull, OK?
Let's go. Go!
Al, you're up.
(RETCHES, CHOKES)
Godspeed.
Hey, look out for Oliver. I got him.
(BREATHES RAGGEDLY)
Archie, what happened?
I'm bleeding out my guts, I think.
(GASPS)
Hey, hey.
When we get down, the medics, they're gonna take good care of you.
Archie, what the hell happened to your chute?
Yeah, it's turned to confetti.
(GROANS) OK.
Hey, hey, we'll take the old girl down, alright?
We'll just crash her in the surf.
I'm not leaving you behind!
We'll...
Two to a chute. Archie, two to a chute.
It's been done, right?
Alright. OK.
OK, sir. Come on.
(GROANS) It's alright.
You ready?
Take care of the boys.
No!
(SOLEMN MUSIC)
(SOBS)
(CRIES OUT)
(EXPLOSION BOOMS)
(WOMAN SINGS SOMBRE SONG IN FOREIGN LANGUAGE)
Good morning, sir.
I'm your new copilot, Lieutenant Bob Tremaine.
I look forward to flying with you, sir.
So, I, uh... I don't suppose you know
when I can expect my luggage to be delivered?
(LIVELY MUSIC)
(SOMBRE MUSIC)