RSM Lauderdale:
I have seen Calcutta. I have eaten camel dung. My knees are brown, my navel is central, my conscience is clear, and my will is with my solicitors, Short and Curly.
RSM Lauderdale:
Will you stick a boomerang in that great Aussie cakehole of yours until I've finished?
Lt. Boniface:
You will appreciate that it is I who give the orders and you who will obey! For the first time in the history of my country, Sergeant Major, it is the African who is putting the shell into the breech and giving the order to fire!
RSM Lauderdale:
Really, Mr. Boniface? I don't think I've ever come across a misfit of your size and quality before. You've missed your vocation. You ought to be in Hyde Park! If you do happen to go putting a shell into the breech, sir, I sincerely hope that you'll remember to put the sharp end to the front.
[first lines]
Sgt. Dodger Brown:
[singing as he drives a truck] She'll be comin' round the mountain when she comes. She'll be comin'
Colour Sgt. Ben Parkin:
Can't you sing in tune?
Sgt. Dodger Brown:
round the mountain when she comes!
[pause as truck bumps over rough road]
Sgt. Dodger Brown:
Hey, Ben, you know I was just thinkin'. Back home they wouldn't let me drive a scooter without taking a test.
[chuckles]
Sgt. Dodger Brown:
Marvelous, isn't it?
[thud as truck jolts]
Colour Sgt. Ben Parkin:
Marvelous
[last lines]
RSM Lauderdale:
Pour me a whiskey, will you please, Corporal Abou?
Cpl. About:
Sir.
[pause while Corporal Abou serves a drink]
RSM Lauderdale:
That'll be all, lad.
RSM Lauderdale:
Let me tell you. There’s no alteration, no celebration. No argumentation, no qualification in this mess that escapes my eyes! Read, learn, and inwardly digest!
RSM Lauderdale:
[Instructing his men on how to behave for the MP] Now, I want you all behavin' like Little Lord Fauntleroy. No blasphemy, no obscenity, and, above all, no bad language!
RSM Lauderdale:
I can always stomach a good soldier whatever his faults! What I can't stomach are Bolshies, skivers, scrimshanks, and bughouse barristers! I've broken more of them than you've had eggs for breakfast! If I take a likin' to you, lad, I'll be your good friend and counselor. If you offend me, I'll pull out your sausage-like intestines, hang 'em round your neck, and prick 'em every so often like they do real sausages!
RSM Lauderdale:
Mutiny? It's like the Loch Ness Monster. Heard of it but never actually ran across it!
RSM Lauderdale:
[After being able to bluff his way easily past an African guard] That's Corporal N'timba. Never make sergeant! No initiative!
Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
[Alarmed that Lauderdale has armed himself] ...what you are doing can only produce more bloodshed!
RSM Lauderdale:
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Well, that's a matter of opinion! I'm surprised at you, Ma'am! I thought you believed in all men bein' equal!
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Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
Of course, I do! That's exactly the point!
RSM Lauderdale:
[To Dodger] Dodger!
[To Miss Barker-Wise]
RSM Lauderdale:
Well, they had guns and we didn't. That wasn't very equal, was it?
Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
Who put guns into their hands? Who taught them to shoot? You!
Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
And if it wasn't for people like us, you wouldn't be able to walk around, spoutin' your smarmy, silly, bloody little half-baked ideas!
Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
That remark, Sergeant-Major, may well cost you your rank!
RSM Lauderdale:
[To Sgt. Dunn] Stay with her, Muscles, until she quiets down. See she doesn't leave the mess!
Sgt. Muscles Dunn:
Sir!
RSM Lauderdale:
Oh, what a right old cow! No wonder the officers dumped her onto us!
RSM Lauderdale:
I wonder they didn't make you a sergeant!
Pvt. Wilkes:
I had a stripe once. Lost it in a fortnight.
Col. Deal:
[Refering to the new revolutionary leader of the country] Five years in jail, and within six months of coming out, he's on his way to the President's Palace!
Fletcher:
He spent that six months here as a gardener. Got to know him pretty well. Lousy gardener! I hope he'll make a better president. Anyhow, going to jail is considered a shortcut to power these days!
Col. Deal:
I hope it never happens in the army!
Miss Baker Wise, M.P.:
You're a human gun! They've turned you into a human rifle!复制复制成功复制失败，请手动复制
