All language subtitles for Guadalcanal Diary (1943)_Eng

Today, Sunday July 26th 1942,

is a peaceful, lazy day of rest
here on our transport

somewhere in the South Pacific.

And very pleasant it is too, here in the
beautiful white sunshine of the port deck

with the blue panel of the sea to watch
and a good song rising clear.

Where Father Donnelly, Notre Dame 1917,
all-American fullback for two years,

now simply Chaplain Donnelly,
is working the second shift.

Say, Sammy, your voice is OK.

Why not? My father was
a cantor in the synagogue.

We're on the signal bridge, where Colonel
Grayson and his staff are relaxing,

as contented as if seated on their front
porches of a Sunday morning back home.

What a way to travel to war.

I wish we had the funnies.

So we could see if Mammy Yokum got the
termites out of the turnip patch.

However the favourite occupation,
as usual, is shooting the breeze.

Exchanging scuttlebutt.

Boy, l'd sure like to be back home,
sailing me a boat on Chesapeake Bay.

If I was back home I
wouldn't be on no boat.

If I was back in Laredo
I'd go and see my Conchita.

- Maybe Lolita.
- Well, make up your mind.

All right, Conchita.

And Lolita.

Ebbets Field, that's for me.
Watching them beautiful Bums.

Bums is right.

- Just leading the league.
- Oh, sure. That league.

Got any dough which says
the Yanks will take us in the Series?

The Dodgers ain't even in it yet. What
good'll dough do where you're going?

- How do you know where we're going?
- Oh, pipe down.

Besides, I don't care
if I never see any more dough again.

Of course, you monkeys understand
I'm talking about Confederate dough.

Say, ain't you a war correspondent?

- That's right.
- Put my name in the paper.

The funny paper.

- Sure. What is it?
- Johnny Anderson.

You can call him Chicken.
He's just sprouting his pinfeathers.

A certain party I know
will get a kick out of that.

You know your mother
don't let you go out with no dames.

Pipe down, will you?

I got him.

Sweepers, man your brooms.

Clean sweep-down fore and aft.

Pleasant too to stretch out
in the calm tropical night

with the lapping of the waves beating
a soft, faint obbligato to our song.

They're a great bunch of kids, Father.

- They'll do all right.
- Mm-hm.

Any news yet as to where we're headed?

Even the colonel doesn't know that.

So then I says "Listen,
do you think what I'm thinking?"

She gives me one of them looks
and says "Yeah."

That's a tomato every time.

- Writing to that babe of yours?
- Why not?

- Some doll, huh?
- Yeah, she's a real hunk of woman.

- And she don't give me no arguments either.
- She don't, huh?

You know, I had me a
dame like that once.

But so did a lot of other guys.

- Good night, Chicken.
- Good night, Taxi.

OK, boys.

Come on, come on.
Cut out the skylarking. Hit the sack.

Lights out, one minute.

Hey, Sergeant.
Do you know yet what we're up to?

Oh, the same old thing - maneuvers.
Don't say I told you.

Up and down landing nets, in and out
of boats - I'm getting tired of this.

The way you looked at Onslow Beach
you could stand plenty of practice.

One of these days we're gonna
run up against the real thing.

- Hey, Tex.
- Yeah.

- Hot, ain't it?
- Yeah.

Hotter than a Texas
cattle car in August.

- So you think it's hot, do you?
- Yeah.

How would you like
a nice tall glass of ice-cold beer?

Beer. Strictly a middle-class beverage.

The last time I was in Brooklyn
it was just such a night as this.

We was having cocktails.

The old lady brought them in,
I took one taste, and boy, what a kick.

- You know what she did?
- What?

She took 'em out and
put in another slug of gin.

- What a sweet old lady.
- Yeah.

- Well, good night, Taxi.
- Good night.

Yes, this has been a peaceful, lazy day
of rest almost everywhere on the ship.

Despite the fact that tomorrow or the
next day we'll know where we're headed.

Where possibly we may be wounded or die
on some Japanese beachhead.

- What's going on?
- I don't know.

- Where'd they come from?
- Look at 'em.

Is that a task force for ya!
How many are there?

Must be about a thousand.

- So we're out on maneuvers, eh?
- My eye. Looks like the real McCoy.

- Where's Jordan? He'll know the answer.
- Jordan, come here.

Give us the lowdown. What are they?

The Pepsi-Cola. The Illuscious.

- Boy, that's a heap of 'em.
- Now if we only knew where we were going.

Looks like we mean business, Colonel.

It's a cheerful thought to be going into this
with all this power and force behind us.

- What's this coming?
- That's the FCPL.

They got a civilian with them.

How do you do, Mr Weatherby?
I'm Colonel Grayson.

- Dispatches, sir.
- Well, now maybe we'll find out something.

- Tokyo?
- Could be.

Gentlemen, we're going to attack
the Japanese strongholds

on Guadalcanal and Tulagi
in the Solomon Islands.

Guadalcanal?

The Navy and Coast Guard
will put us ashore.

Once established, our objective is an airfield
which the enemy has almost completed.

Mr Weatherby, who has supervised
a copra plantation there,

will tell you some of the difficulties
you may expect to encounter.

Well, fellas, this is
a detailed map of Guadalcanal.

After crossing the beach you'll
have to penetrate a field of grass

from four to six feet high - and it's
good stuff for the Japs to hide in too.

"Headquarters, fifth regiment, first marine
division, fleet marine force, 26th July 1942."

"From Colonel Wallace E Grayson, USMC,
to all members of this command."

"Subject: mission of this force."

"The coming action marks the first offensive
involving ground forces of the US."

- "The marines are to initiate this action..."
- Ain't it always the way?

"which will prove the forerunner of
successive offensive actions

that will end in ultimate victory
for our cause."

And all we have to do to prove it
is to get shot at.

- "We have worked hard for this action..."
- He's telling us.

"and I have every confidence in our ability
and desire to force our will upon the enemy."

- He took the words right out of my mouth.
- "We meet a tough and wily opponent."

"But he is not sufficiently tough or wily
to overcome us, because we are marines."

- Now you're talking.
- "Each of us has a task."

"Let each vow to perform it
to the utmost of his ability,

with added effort for good measure."

"Good luck and God bless you. God
favors the bold and strong of heart."

Wallace E Grayson.

- Very well done, Hook.
- Thank you, Brother Pots.

If l'd only gone to high school...
Hey, what is this?

"Annexe E to general order
number 3, paragraph D."

"Burial."

"Graves will be suitably marked. All
bodies will wear identification tags."

Most of you have never had any experience in
the jungle before and the Japs have. Plenty.

So let me give you a word of advice:
keep your mouths shut.

Stop yelling your head off.

We can beat 'em at their own game of silence
if we try, but... you know how marines are.

Some dope'll yell "Hey, mac.
Is that C company over there?"

It isn't funny. Don't laugh.

If any of you run over
to see if C company is over there,

what kind of chow C company's having,
you're liable to end up chow yourself.

Honorable bullet, take honorable death
of honorable Japanese.

Keep an eye out for
snipers all the time.

See a bunch of bananas in a coconut tree,
shoot 'em down. That makes sense, don't it?

Hey, wait a minute.
This ain't government issue.

No, that's Flatbush issue.

If it'll make the Japs happy to die for
their emperor, I'll try to make 'em happy.

Going to take the
island all by yourself?

That would cause no surprise
in certain circles in Brooklyn.

And one more thing.
Watch out for booby traps.

Don't go round picking up anything
the Japs leave laying around.

What if you promised
a certain party a souvenir?

Just forget about it. You're liable to
find it'll blow right up in your kisser.

If you see any .45 with
a beautiful pearl handle, leave it lay.

- The most beautiful pearl in the world?
- Hiya, Father.

- How many Japs they got on that island?
- Hard to say. Several thousand.

- Any natives?
- About 16,000.

- Uh... cannibals?
- No, I believe they're strict vegetarians.

But then of course
they've never tasted marine meat.

Don't worry. Perhaps
we'll land on Friday.

- Well, Chick, looks like it won't be long now.
- Looks that way.

- Tomorrow morning maybe, eh?
- Maybe.

Hey, Taxi, what time is it
back home now anyway?

- How many hours' difference is there?
- 19 between here and San Francisco.

And three more to home.
But I never can tell which way it is.

That's the trouble with me too. I can never
tell whether it's yesterday or tomorrow.

- Would you like to hold him a while?
- Sure.

- Take it easy, boy. I'll see you later, kid.
- Yeah, so long.

- Getting bald?
- It's beginning to look that way.

- How will Edith like that?
- She won't.

By the way, if you need any hair restorer I
have an ample supply. A going-away gift.

What do you suppose
they're doing about now?

Sleeping, I hope.

Quite a difference to the days
when I sat in your class

and listened to you propound
the great philosophies of the world.

I don't know. Philosophy might
come in pretty handy these days.

Jim. How do you feel?

Scared?

I suppose so.

I try to look at it as just a job, like selling
a big order when there's sales resistance.

Funny that we two should end up like
this. The first two companies in.

- Three to one says my outfit lands first.
- Three coconuts to two says you don't.

Good.

It's odd we haven't been attacked
by a submarine. Surely they spotted us.

Yes, it is rather odd.

Couldn't be a trap, could it?

By the way, we ought to
be there by morning.

I hear the zero hour
should be about 6.20.

Approximately. l'd say the
landing would be nearer 8.30.

- Better not go ashore with the first wave.
- And why not?

That's when I'll be needed
the most, isn't it?

I guess l'd better look down below
and see if anybody's got the jitters.

And now at last the great day itself:
Friday August 7th, 1942.

The day for which we've trained so long.
The day of landing.

There's none of the gaiety and song
which filled the few preceding days.

Every nerve taut.

Perhaps this is because the thing
that's happening seems like a dream.

Here and there a man wets his lips.
Breathing is a little harder.

Waiting, eyes strained.

Field glasses pointing toward that high,
irregular mass lying beyond the water.

Toward Guadalcanal.

Well, there she is.

We must have almost
passed their batteries.

- Either it's a trick or they're awful dumb.
- If it works out, it'll make a swell story.

Let's not think of it any other way.
It's got to work.

- Well, Sarge, looks like this is it.
- Yeah.

Unbuckle your chin straps
and your cartridge belts.

This ain't no turkey shoot.
Make 'em all count.

Don't worry, Sarge. I will.

- Well, Sarge, looks like this is it.
- Yeah.

- What they handing you?
- Something till they put up the galleys.

Biscuit, sugar, soluble coffee
and meat and vegetable stew.

Sounds just like Thanksgiving, huh?

Thanksgiving!

Sorry we're not going in the same boat.

No use putting all of our
eggs in one basket.

Funny how we can stand here preparing
to force a landing on the enemy shore

and act as if it were
the most normal thing in the world.

Yes, it is rather.

You know, Sarge,

times like these make me wish
I was back in Brooklyn.

Driving my cab
and keeping an eye on them Bums.

When the Yanks get another crack at them
they'll take 'em apart.

I should live so long!

Hey, what am I saying?

- Good luck.
- Same to you.

Hey, look. Our planes.

Heads down below the gunwales.

That ought to knock out any machine-gun
nests or any artillery emplacements.

Hit the deck.

Watch every tree.

- What's up?
- I thought I saw a Jap in that tree.

You're learning fast. Better to waste
ammunition than take any chances.

I'm all wore out
landing against such heavy fire.

- Don't worry. We'll hear from them yet.
- So far so good.

I hope it isn't a trap.

The second wave's coming in.

Captain Davis.

- Captain Davis!
- Aye-aye, sir.

- Any sign of the enemy?
- I think they're hiding in the hills.

Push right on, but be careful.

- How about those coconuts you owe me?
- I thought it was a photo finish.

- You moving up?
- No.

Colonel Grayson wants me to hold
this village until the MPs move in.

- They sure must have left here in a hurry.
- Yeah.

Wasteful, I calls it.

- Hook, there's somebody in there.
- Where?

Watch out, kid.

Ah, for the love of...

Give me a cigarette.

- Since when did you start smoking?
- I'm starting right now.

Come on.

Easy through the door, fellas.
That's it.

- Hey, what are you going to do with that?
- Sleep in it, I hope.

Just what I needed for Saturday night.

- I wonder what the Japs use it for?
- I wouldn't know.

I got me a case of Jap beer.

Hey, Bowman.

Caviar. I thought these monkeys
lived on fish heads and rice.

Yes. It's hardly the primitive diet
on which they're supposed to subsist.

- Tastes good too.
- Provided, of course, it isn't poisoned.

If nothing happens to you, let me know.

Gangway!

- Gangway!
- Padre, where'd you get the bike?

- Hey, where did you get it?
- Plenty more where this came from.

Must be a couple of hundred Jap trucks
there. No telling how many radios, guns.

I guess we really caught them
with their pants down.

That's one way of putting it.

But from the reports from Tulagi,
I'm not so sure they did over there.

Where's me helmet?

Hey, Hook. This is it.

- It's only three monkeys on a rope.
- Pretty small, eh?

Ugly, ain't they?

Hey, Snow White,
where's the rest of the Seven Dwarves?

Hart, Schaffner and Marx.

We found them under a bush. We thought
it was a trap and let them have it.

A couple of them got away.

- Are these the monkeys we're fighting?
- No, these are laborers.

We can't get much out of them, sir.
This lingo they talk.

They keep pointing to the hills. I guess
that's where the rest of them went.

- Are they praying?
- They think we're going to shoot them.

Corpsman.

Fix 'em up.

Arigato.

We ain't got no avocados.

Let's get going.
Turn these prisoners over to the MP.

There's the airfield.

They appear to have moved out,
so we'll move in.

Pots, Anderson.

This flag belonged to Lieutenant Small.
He carried it all the way through China.

He's had a heart attack.

It's his ambition to see his flag
flying over captured territory.

- Run it up.
- Aye-aye, sir.

Maybe we should have waited.
Let the Japs finish it up.

Ahh, I bet there ain't a Jap
within ten miles of here.

Hit the deck.

Where's me helmet?

Corpsman.

Corpsman.

- Is he dead?
- Yeah, he's dead.

Amen.

May God have mercy on his soul.

Yes, he is dead. And now we know
that not all the enemy have fled.

That in the jungle surrounding us
men are lurking.

Silent, dangerous, with weapons.

How many? Where are they hiding?
How grave is the danger?

No man can say.

We'll have to wait and
watch in the rain.

Each man with his own thoughts, caught
and held in the grip of unseen danger.

And into the night too, with only
the drip of the rain through the palms

and distant thunder of
naval guns in our ears.

Knowing that if our
people lose the battle,

the enemy will be ashore before morning
and we'll have to fight for our lives.

Suddenly most of us know the awful
feeling of being pitifully small.

Know for a moment that we're only tiny
particles caught up in the whirlpool of war,

the terror and power and magnificence of
man-made thunder making that point real.

And so, wet, miserable and sleepless,

at the mercy of great forces
more powerful than anything human,

we face the first night of occupation.

- The Navy isn't doing much sleeping either.
- Not from the sound of that firing.

- Suppose they'll come in here and shell us?
- Could be.

Help!

It's a Jap. He's got me. Help!

Help!

- What is it?
- A Jap.

I'm asleep there.
A Jap jumped out of a tree with a knife.

Tojo himself.

All right, pipe down. Shove off.

Honest, Sarge. I could have
sworn I felt his buck teeth.

Here's your first Jap prisoner.

Who's there?

Who's there?

Jap snipers?

What's the mater out here?

I heard something. I
thought it was a Jap.

Knock off that shooting at every shadow.
These men are trying to get some sleep.

- Next time, go after him with your bayonet.
- Aye-aye, sir.

Right through the back.

Hiding up in the trees like apes...

Why don't they come out
in the open and fight?

There you are, Father.

In his Pell-mell retreat, the enemy
has not even destroyed his equipment.

Already we are converting
it to our own use.

Constructing runways, erecting hangars,

setting up defenses against the day
when we'll have our own air support.

Knowing that until that day comes
we've but one course to follow-

to dig in and wait.

Come on, Taxi, step it up.
Dig in, will you?

Maybe if we dig deep
we'll come up at Ebbets Field.

Sure. I'm practically standing on
second base right now.

We lost four cruisers last night off Savo.
We beat them off, though, but good.

- And our casualties in Tulagi and Gavutu?
- Heavy. The Japs fought to the last man.

- How many did we get, sir?
- About 400 on Tulagi. 800 on Gavutu.

We took them by surprise.
Knocked them off like ducks.

Any way of getting our stories out?

There's a navy plane scheduled in.
I'll see if I can get them aboard.

Thank you, sir.

The first hectic days are over,
but we have not been idle.

Day and night our patrols have been out,
pushing deeper and deeper into the jungle.

Catching occasional
glimpses of the enemy.

Waiting, eager and expectant,
for our first contact with the Jap.

The Japs have been parachuting them
inside our lines.

They need supplies.
Bring these men into my camp.

Lieutenant, you can read this.
What's it say?

Listen to this.

"The enemy before your
eyes is collapsing."

Look, I'm collapsing.

Wait, listen. "A relief
landing party is near."

- What did I tell you?
- Go ahead. I'm frightened.

"We are convinced of help
from the imperial heaven."

Only God's children go to heaven.

Listen. "Respect yourself. By no means
run away from the encampment."

It make Tojo very unhappy.

"The enemy has suffered
enormous losses."

"All transports have been sunk and his
choicest troops have been annihilated."

- I guess we're dead and we don't know it.
- We must be. How about that, Padre?

If we are, at least we're not
in imperial heaven.

If we ain't, it ain't the cook's fault.

- Sergeant.
- Yes, sir?

- Ask Captain Davis to come here.
- He's in the sickbay. A touch of cat fever.

Anything I can do?

These natives tell me there's a big bunch
of Japs at a village five miles from here.

The prisoner thinks they'll surrender.

Seems they haven't any food
and most are without weapons.

Take a patrol and see
what it's all about.

- But don't take any chances.
- Yes, sir. It'll be a pleasure.

I suggest you go by boat and stay far enough
off so they can't snipe at you from shore.

- Malone.
- Yes, sir.

Take this fella down to sickbay and get
him fixed up. He's a friend of ours.

The hair on them guys!
What a spot for a mattress factory.

Captain Cross, can I go with you?
I know the woods pretty good.

- Sure. I'm glad to have you, Alvarez.
- Thank you, sir.

Aren't you the lucky stiff?

Lying here with a pretty nurse waiting
on you while I'm off hunting Japs.

If there's any hunting of Japs to
be done, I'm going to be in on it.

No, you go right ahead and goldbrick.
I'll do your dirty work for you.

Our first crack at the enemy.

Not just hiding in
foxholes as he flies over,

taking cover every five minutes, shaking
our fists at something we can't even see.

At Matanikau there are Japs.
Men of flesh and blood like ourselves.

We will see them face to face.

And as Captain Cross has put it,
it'll be a pleasure.

Hey, Captain, look.

He's moving away from us.

He's spotted us. He's turning this way.

- Let's turn back.
- No, he'll head us off.

- We can't make it.
- Coxswain, make a run for it.

Get your heads down.

- We may have to swim for it.
- Well, boys, it's been a great life.

If you want my opinion,
it's ending a little too soon.

Go alongside.

Those are our shore batteries.

They're on the target.

Certain that the sounds of firing
have revealed our presence,

Captain Cross has decided to wait for cover
of darkness before landing near Matanikau

despite the insistence of the Jap
prisoner that all will be well,

that his friends,
starving and without weapons,

are waiting in the village
eager to surrender.

Turn back. We'll make
our way back by land.

All right, men, dig in.
Right on the beach.

- What are we digging in here for, Captain?
- I'm not taking any chances.

Let's have a look around.

We got to get back to the beach.

- Can you make it?
- Sure.

Hey, Corporal. There
comes Captain Cross.

Cease firing.

Captain, what happened
to Lieutenant Thurmond?

I don't know.

Soose, go in and see
if you can find him.

Aye-aye, sir.

I found Lieutenant Thurmond dead, sir.

We got to get word back
to Colonel Grayson we're in trouble.

- I want a volunteer.
- I'll take a crack at it, sir.

- All right, son. Go ahead.
- Aye-aye, sir.

Slowly the night is dragged through.

Somehow our men, even the wounded,
have managed to fight on

against an unseen enemy whose perfidy
and deceit are now all too clear,

hoping against hope
that help would come.

But with the rising sun
the last hope fades.

Three men out of
the entire patrol remain alive.

The others, to many of whom Guadalcanal was
not even a name a few short months ago,

now lie dead in their shallow foxholes,

over which an indifferent sea
is already beginning to roll.

We'd better make a try for the palms.

OK, Captain.

We'd better go back to Matanikau. This
time we'll go in force. And for blood.

Yes, we're going back to Matanikau.
And this time for blood.

Men, boys, going into battle
for the first time in their lives.

Untried, new to the jungle.

High-school athletes,
grocers, clerks, taxi drivers.

Men with memories of friends
ambushed, tricked, slaughtered.

Those bayonets. I saw them.

I saw them.

Soose, they never knew it.

Better get that bar off your collar.
Don't want to go round inviting trouble.

Thanks, Captain.

- How you doing? Still trigger-happy?
- You'd better wait and ask the Japs.

Here.

- There you are.
- Thanks.

- Hey, Butch, you got a cigarette?
- Sure. Help yourself.

- Jap cigarettes.
- Half tobacco, half stink weed.

Now I'll enjoy them more than ever.
I thought they were all stink weed. Ew!

That's one for Captain Cross.

Dig in light for a mortar
barrage in this area.

Colonel Grayson says to watch your fire.
Only fire toward the beach.

Some of our men are moving in below.

Pass the word along. They're not to fire
into the palm grove. Only toward the beach.

OK.

Pass the word.

Keep your heads down.

- Hey, Hook.
- Yeah.

How do you feel about killing... people?

It's kill or be killed, ain't it?
Besides, those ain't people.

- Yeah, I know, but the first time?
- Well, it was kind of rugged I guess.

Then it's just repetition.
Quit thinking about it. You'll go crazy.

Hey, look.

- That's for me.
- Wait. You nuts?

All we ever shoot at is privates.
That's a major.

You got enough to think about without going
for souvenirs. And keep your head down.

Stay here.

- Yeah, Tex?
- You see what I see?

Oh, yeah.

- Are you Sergeant York or Gary Cooper?
- They were good too.

Scratch one squint-eye.

Hook.

- Hook.
- What the...?

- Hook.
- Yeah, take it easy.

Corpsman.

Corpsman!

I thought he was dead.

Yeah, I know.

- Hook, am I going to...?
- Nah. You'll be all right.

Beautiful sword.

I promised a certain party...

Yeah, I know.

It ain't possible.

We gotta get outta here.

Think you can walk?

I guess so.

Hold it. I'll lift you up.

OK.

- Hook. The sword.
- Yeah, I know. You promised it.

Look, I'll go back and
get the sword for you.

You will? Thanks.

I'll get you a couple of
Japs to put on it too.

- There's an ambulance. Can you make it?
- Yeah.

- Hook, what time is it?
- Told you to save your breath.

I mean, back home.

I never thought this would happen to me.
What time is it, Hook?

Where's the doctor? Doctor!

Yes.

Corpsman, plasma.

- You'd better get back. I'll watch out for him.
- Thanks, Father.

The Battle of Matanikau is over.

And this war of mighty armies, of masses
of men, of tank and plane and Armour,

has been just an episode, a skirmish.

A few score men killed or wounded.

But the enemy has been defeated, almost
wiped out, and one thing we've learned.

Colonel Grayson was right-
it's not going to be a picnic.

The first emotion, elation, is gone.

Veterans now, blooded
bush-fighting specialists,

their bravado gone, or at least subdued,
with a new respect for the Japs.

Weary, silent, stunned.

Men with glazed eyes
holding their sides.

Limping along, shock-blast victims,
staggering, sometimes falling,

the only sound an occasional groan.

Moving like drunken men
or men in a dream.

Heads, legs bandaged, clothes torn.

Unlit cigarettes dangling
from their lips.

Old before their times.

Boys with the memory of
death in their eyes.

Staring, remembering friends
they've left back there.

- You know what them monkeys say?
- Nah.

They didn't even know
they was on Guadalcanal.

As for them killing themselves
rather than get caught,

I saw a couple of these skivvies
making a motion to commit Hari-Kari.

Did they break out in grins
when nobody tossed them a knife.

- I ain't got no use for this one.
- Mail.

- Mail.
- Mail.

Yahoo! Mail.

Come and get it.

- Dubosky.
- Here.

- Jensen.
- Coming up.

- Malone.
- That's me.

Gimme that, will you?

Captain Cross.

- I'll take it.
- Here's two more, sir.

- Father Donnelly.
- Here.

- Bibles.
- It's heavier than that. More like a cake.

- Harold Grayson.
- How about Aloysius T Pots?

Take it easy. We'll get around to you.

Mcllvoy.

Mcllvoy.

Oh, that's me.

"Querido Jesus."

"Aqu� tengo Tu retrato cerca..."

Conchita or Lolita?

Margarita.

From the Flatbush Athletic Club.

"Are you keeping fit in these difficult days?
You owe it to yourself to exercise regularly."

"Course in body-building, $25."

- It'll be a bargain.
- Yeah.

Yeah, I know. She's some hunk of woman. And
she don't give you no arguments either.

Hey, fellas, I'm a mother. Her name
is Geraldine. She's three months old.

He got up too soon.

Now, boys, I want you
to study these. Diligently.

Thank you, Father. Now maybe we
can find out how we're doing.

From dear Mom - and no bills.

I wonder if Edith knows yet.

- What's that?
- My future publisher. Book Of The Month.

- What have you got?
- Long Remember.

- What's it about?
- The Battle of Gettysburg.

- You know. Gettysburg Address.
- Gettysburg Address?

Where Lincoln lived.
Civil War, remember?

You mean the war they had in Gone
With The Wind. Boy, that was a war.

That's all.

Oops, one more.

- Dubosky.
- Hey, that's another one for me.

Are you sure there's nothing for me?
Sammy Klein?

Sorry, Sammy, that's all there is.

They wrote to you. It just missed
the boat. You know how mail is.

Let's go, mac.

Hey, Sammy.

Come here. I want you to read this.
"From the future Mrs Malone."

She must be some dame
if you want to marry her.

The trouble with you guys is
you never met a lady. Go on, read it.

What makes you think I can read?

- Taxi, how's about lending me that razor?
- What for?

I must have lost mine coming ashore.

Let me see.

Right there.

Oh, yeah.

- Hey, Tex, Soose, fellas.
- Cut it out, Taxi.

We got to investigate this.
Come over here.

- Look, a whisker.
- Where?

Right there.
You can see it with the naked eye.

- Think we ought to shave it off?
- Let's leave it and see what it turns into.

- Kind of cute, ain't it?
- Ow!

- Say, Hook.
- Yeah.

- Look what I found. Limes.
- Oh, boy.

If I only had some ice, soda water,
cherries and a bottle of gin,

would I make you a Tom Collins.

- You know I'm just fooling, Father.
- That's all right, son.

But if you find those ingredients,
drop around.

Condition red.

Here we go again.

Condition red.

- Condition red.
- Sui.

Douse the fire.

- Where's me helmet?
- Sui.

Here, boy. Here, Sui. Come on, boy.

There they are.

Here they come.

Hit the deck.

Father Donnelly.

- He's been hit.
- You'll be all right. It's concussion.

Don't burrow in so deep. Next time,
cushion yourself on your elbows.

Wait till our planes get here.
They won't look so pretty.

Yeah, but where are our planes?

Today is a red-letter day on the island.
Reinforcements are coming in.

The army. And coming
not a day too soon either,

for we are tired after
days of heat and rain,

dust and disease, mud and malnutrition.

Weeks of constant fighting,

watching the enemy slipping more and more
men ashore from Bougainville and Rabaul.

The target of his bombers and Zeros,

against whom we're lucky to put up
a mere six or seven Grummans.

Is it any wonder the
welcome sign is out?

I never thought l'd be so glad to see
an army man. My name's Anderson.

Boy, am I glad to see you guys.
You're a sight for sore eyes.

Say, buddy, how many Japs you killed?

Quiet. Confidentially,
that's a military secret.

Thought you'd be in foxholes on the
beach. This place looks great.

It does, huh? Well, give it time,
brother. The beauty will wear off.

- Where you from?
- Minnesota.

- I'm from Flatbush.
- Never heard of it.

What am I laughing at?

Every enemy thrust on our airfield
so far has been beaten off.

His ships have been sunk,
his dead are numbered in hundreds.

But the Jap is a persistent foe.

Now he is holed up in the
caves on the island,

from which vantage spots
he is a constant menace to our patrols.

He must be driven out, and to Colonel
Grayson and his men has fallen the task.

Nor is it going to be an easy one.

These rocky ledges and great natural
caves afford excellent positions,

from which his machine guns
can sweep the countryside.

The men behind those
machine guns are fanatics.

They'll die at their posts, some chained
to their weapons, rather than surrender.

One by one they must be
blasted from the earth that hides them.

- What do you think, Hook?
- I think it's a trick.

There are probably 30 or 40 in each cave.
We've got to get them out of there.

- Malone, you and Pots know the ropes.
- I knew it.

Get above those caves and use grenades.
We'll cover you, OK?

- Yeah, sure.
- OK, mac.

Take some of those pineapples.

- All set, Sarge?
- Yeah.

Davis's idea.
He says it'll blow the place to pieces.

Let me have it.

This gasoline and TNT
ought to do the trick.

And now for the world of sports.

All right, pipe down.

The Yanks'll murder them guys.

- Aloysius T Pots talking for the Yanks?
- New York's my hometown, ain't it?

Since when did Flatbush
become part of New York?

Who said anything about Flatbush being
part of New York? It's just vicey-versey.

Sportsman's Park at St Louis
was packed with 34,255 wild-eyed fans

as the Cards and the Yanks tangled
in the second game of the World Series.

On the mound for the New York Yanks
was Ernie Bonham.

Well, that settles it.

The Cards sent their 23-year-old rookie out
in a surprise move to even the Series.

- Come on, you Redbirds.
- Give us the score, will you?

Dazzling fielding marked every inning,
but it was not until the eighth,

with the score tied one to one,
that the fans got the real thrills.

Will you give us the score?

Jim Brown and Terry Moore
proved to be easy outs,

but Enos Slaughter
caught one of Bonham's fast ones

and slammed a scorching liner to right field
and slid into second base for a double.

- I knew he could do it.
- Think nothing of it.

Take it easy, Ernie boy.
Make every one count.

Roy Cullenbine, confused by the Redbirds
earlier on, made a perfect throw to the bag.

Ataboy.

- But Phil Rizzuto let the ball slip through.
- Tag the bum out.

While he was trying to locate it,
Slaughter dashed safely for third.

- I was expecting that.
- He isn't home yet.

Stan Musial worked
Bonham for a 2-3 pitch.

And then, with the home crowd
yelling for a hit, he...

- And the final score...
- You can't do that. Give us the score.

Wait. Shh.

And that's the way the game ended.

Condition red. Condition red.

Condition red. Condition red.

Condition red.

Don, condition red.

First time l've ever had
a tree in bed with me.

I don't mind the one with my name on it. It's
the "To whom it may concern" I don't like.

They're throwing everything at us
but the kitchen stove.

That's the stove now.

- Here, take a puff.
- No, thanks.

Sure makes you feel kind of naked.

Nothing between you and kingdom come
except coconut logs.

It isn't so much dying.
It's having to sit here and take it.

Anybody who says he ain't scared
is a fool or a liar.

- Is there any room in here?
- Come on in.

Sit over here, Father.

- Those sound like eight-inch shells to me.
- Bigger than that, I imagine.

There's a report of a couple of battleships
and about eight cruisers off Savo Island.

- How's it going up there?
- OK.

You know, they've got
some great navy doctors here.

When this started
they were in the midst of an operation.

Had to go on or the kid would have died.

Think they ran off and left him?
Not those boys.

- How do you know, Padre? Were you there?
- Who, me? Well, naturally I had to stay.

- Hey, that was a bomb.
- Yes, their planes are busy too.

They're pasting Henderson Field.

Father, you got any objections
if I say what I'm thinking?

Go right ahead, son. Don't mind me.

Well, I don't know about
these other guys, but me, well...

I'm telling you, this
thing is over my head.

It's going to take somebody
bigger than me to handle it.

I ain't much at this praying business.
My old lady always took care of that.

Yeah, my old lady was like that too.

I don't know as I mean that kind of praying.
The Lord's Prayer and things like that.

I know what you're talking about, Taxi. I
used to pray like that when I was a kid.

"Lord, give me this, give me that.
Please let the Yanks win."

I never been in a spot
like this before in my life.

I'm no hero. I'm just a guy.

I come out here because
somebody had to come.

I don't want no medals.
I just want to get this thing over with.

I'm just like everybody else,
and I'm telling you I don't like it.

Except I guess
there's nothing I can do about it.

I can't tell them bombs
to hit somewhere else.

Like I said before, it's up to somebody
bigger than me, bigger than anybody.

What I mean is I...

I guess it's up to God.

And I'm not kidding when I say
I sure hope he knows how I feel.

I'm not going to say
I'm sorry for everything l've done.

When you're scared like this, the first thing
you do is start trying to square things.

If I get out of this alive, I'll probably go
out and do the same things all over again.

The only thing I know is
I didn't ask to get in this spot.

And if we get it -

and it sure looks that way now -

then I only hope he figures we've done the
best we could and lets it go at that.

Maybe this is a funny kind of praying to you
guys, but it's what I'm thinking and praying.

- Amen.
- Amen.

Seeing your friends hurt and killed
is not a thing you can easily forget.

True, we have killed four, five, six
or even ten for every man we've lost.

That's statistics. But I find it very difficult
to think of these boys as statistics.

They were just Joe and Jim,
Bill and Whiz and Alabam to us.

God rest their souls.

Here they come again.

Hey, wait a minute.

Those ain't Japs. Those are ours.
That's our air support.

Thank God. At last.

- Our planes, Taxi.
- Yeah, our planes.

But what's this? More reinforcements?
More marines coming ashore?

Kids full of big talk,
itching for a fight.

Just like us a few months ago.

Hey, they got one of them here too.

"USO headquarters. Big dance tonight.
All marine and navy personnel invited."

I get it, Spike. FHA project 782.

Hey, good-looking,
how's the female situation?

- The which?
- The love life, stupid.

What is this love life
the gentleman's talking about?

Never heard of it. Must be some strange
custom they have back in the States.

You're killing you, ain't you?

Don't look now, but a truck of gas
just came on the field.

Maybe they can stop dishing it out
with an eyedropper.

Perhaps we'll get out
of here by Christmas.

But which Christmas?

- What, no sheep�s tongues?
- No sheep�s tongues.

Hey, Taxi, now maybe
we'll get three meals a day.

Must be some mistake. This tastes OK.

I don't like it, boy. When these luxuries start
coming it means us marines has got to go.

- Hot.
- Oh.

- What's up?
- Your guess is as good as mine.

You can bet one thing. We're not
getting all that stuff for nothing.

We've learned not to underestimate them.
We know now they won't surrender.

We also know they
aren't supermen either.

We out shoot them, we outfight them
and we usually outguess them.

It's taken us a while to get rid of our
cockiness, but I think we're ready now.

Here's the enemy, with strong points
stretching all the way through here.

About 10,000, as near
as we can determine.

They've been building up their forces.

The terrain's in their favour. There's
jungles and rivers and up here, caves,

like those on Tulagi, in which they holed
in in the first days of our invasion.

Don't make the mistake of underrating
them. They're good. But we're better.

So far we've been on the defensive.

We've done very well at
Matanikau, Tenaru and Bloody Ridge.

But our ultimate success requires
that we extend the area we occupy.

To do this we have three jobs.

One: to eliminate the Japs
already on the island.

Two: to wipe out their heavy artillery, which
is a constant menace to our airfields.

Three: to establish new bases from which to
carry the fight to other enemy strongholds.

This will require an all-out effort,

and I can think of no better date
to begin it than tomorrow.

November 10th, the 167th
anniversary of the Marine Corps.

Tomorrow, the battle.

But tonight, the last night
for many of us perhaps,

there are other things
to think of, to do.

A song. One we used to sing
of an evening back home -

Bill and Joe and the rest of the gang.

Home. Most of all, home.

Things that are never
very far from our thoughts.

That a letter managed somehow
to bring closer to us, even here.

Little things that may give us
the courage to face that tomorrow.

These boys are perfectly wonderful.
Makes me proud to serve with them.

If the other millions they're training
at home are anything like these,

then we have nothing to worry about.

Dear Mom. I'm fine and I hope
you and Dad are not worrying,

because everything's OK - no kidding.

Well, girly, I bet you never expected
to hear from me again.

But ha-ha! I fooled you.

Because when a gentleman like I tells a
lady like you something, that's something.

They say that if we clean them out this time
they'll take us out of here for a rest.

That means I might see you
for Christmas after all.

And I mean see.

- All set, Malone?
- Aye-aye, sir.

- Tell the men to fall in.
- Aye-aye, sir.

All right, you guys. Fall in!

Come on. On the double.

Left face.

Forward march.

At last the great offensive is under
way, an offensive this time in force.

This will not be the last fight for Guadalcanal,
but it is the beginning of the end.

Of that there can be no doubt.

And how the picture has changed.

The difficult early days, the critical
days, from August 7th when we landed

through October 26th when reinforcements
and supplies began to pile ashore,

those grave days are past.

No longer are we to be content
merely to hold what we have.

With the army at our side we are out to get the
Jap, to give him a dose of his own medicine.

To make Henderson Field, our first objective
on the island, a real offensive base

from which to strike closer and closer
to the heart of the Japanese octopus.

The plan is very simple.

Three detachments -
one by the shore road,

one by boat and a third
through the jungle.

Those who go by shore
will fight a holding action.

Those who go by boat will land far to the
west and attack the enemy in the rear.

The main action on the Jap positions
will come from the jungle.

And what of the men who
are now advancing?

Those sorely tried marines who fought
so gallantly in the first days,

and who are now proceeding to the grim
business of taking the fight to the enemy.

The long-awaited day
of all-out action is at hand.

Gone now is the loud
surface toughness of last summer.

In its place is the cool, quiet fortitude
that comes only with battle experience.

There is to be but one command.

Attack, attack and attack.

Ain't that General Vandegrift
with Colonel Grayson?

Yeah.

- Don't he know it's dangerous up here?
- Why don't you go tell him?

Hey, Jap. You forgot something.

You forgot something. Funny.

That's one you taught me, Tojo.

Today, December 10th 1942,
will be our last day on the island.

The job is done. We are going out.

It's from Admiral WF Halsey,
commander of the South Pacific force.

It says: "Never throughout
the history of the Marine Corps

have your deeds been surpassed."

"Your courage and tenacity
make for a fighting spirit

that has surmounted every hardship
and conquered a treacherous enemy."

"No commander could ask more than you have
given each hour of the day and night."

"By your accomplishments you have added
a new verse to the Marine Hymn,

set the pattern for our victory and tower
as an inspiration for every American."

"Today as never before
we the Navy are justly proud of you."

"In deep appreciation for a job superbly done,
and knowing you will win until victory,

we say 'God bless you all."'

Yes, going out for a well-earned rest,
the job superbly done.

The army is coming in to take over.

Into their hands we commit the job with full
confidence in their ability to perform it.

Oh, boy. A whisker, finally.

- Hey, buddy, what's it like out here?
- It's pretty rugged, son.

- See you guys in Tokyo.
- OK. We'll be there waiting for you.

ENGLlSH SDH