THE SPARROW
A Screenplay by Hugh Holub
Copyright 1985,2005 by Hugh Holub
White cloud-filled sky. JANUARY 1943 Supered. A C-47 emerges from the clouds.
CUT TO:
INTERIOR OF PLANE
Rows of men in uniform are sitting in their seats, talking and goofing around. Close in on two of the soldiers: JJ and CHARLES VRABEC. JJ is a burly good old boy in a dishelved uniform with a sack filled with mason jars on the floor in front of him. Vrabec, in his mid 30's, is so average looking he is the only Private in the United States Army Air Force whose uniform fits him perfectly. Vrabec is staring out the window. JJ reaches into his sack, pulls out a mason jar filled with clear liquid, opens it, and takes a long swallow. He nudges Vrabec and offers him the jar.
JJ
Sure you don't want somma the best white lightning this side of
Vrabec shrugs.
VRABEC
No thank you.
JJ
What's eating you, boy. we been on this darned aeroplane for the best part of a day and you ain't hardly said a word. That's downright unneighborly.
VRABEC
Sorry. What part of the South are you from?
JJ
The piney
woods of
VRABEC
A little town
in
JJ finishes off the contents of the mason jar and fishes out another.
JJ
You enlist or was you drafted?
VRABEC
Drafted. I was an accountant and they wanted me last March. But that was tax season so I got a postponement. They got me in May.
JJ
Well I signed up. Wanted to be a pilot. Didn't succeed though. Made me a clerk. What does Uncle Sam have you doing for the war effort?
VRABEC
They trained me to be a P-38 mechanic.
JJ
Figures. Bet you don't know owl poop about fixing them aeroplanes.
VRABEC
I know more than I did a year ago.
JJ
How come you're so unfriendly. If you're
from
Vrabec turns from the window, and looks at JJ for a moment. He points to the sack.
VRABEC
That home brew?
JJ
Made by me very own pappy.
VRABEC
Give me a jar and I'll tell you.
JJ grabs a jar, opens it, and hands it to Vrabec.
VRABEC (cont'd)
To tell you the truth I'm
terrified. This is the first time I've
ever flown on a plane. Since before
being drafted I was never more than about one hundred miles from where I was
born. I had a nice little practice and
was beginning to make a little money.
And then all of a sudden here I am flying over
Vrabec takes a lingering swallow of the moonshine.
JJ
Shucks you and me both and probably everyone else that's been sucked into this goddamned war. Be thankful you ain't in Infantry.
VRABEC
That almost happened. After I reported for induction they loaded us
onto five buses. Outside of San Antone the road forked and three buses went left and the
other two went right. As soon as we
cleared the fork an officer on my bus got up and told us this was our lucky
day. We were headed for
JJ shakes his head, reaches for another mason jar, and hands it to Vrabec.
JJ
Sumbitch. You need this stuff more'n I do. You got cause to celebrate. Maybe that was a good sign. Maybe you're luck'll hold.
VRABEC
I hope so. This might not sound very patriotic but as long as I'm in the Air Force, all I want to do is stay as far away from the fighting as possible, and never be involved with killing anyone.
JJ
I doubt if anyone in uniform would disagree with that. We didn't start this goddamned war. But we gotta do what we gotta do to stop it.
VRABEC
Maybe I can help in some small way in winning the war. But I don't want to fight it. I don't want people shooting at me. I don't want Germans dropping bombs on me. And I don't want to have to shoot back. All the way through boot camp and mechanics school I complained that I was an accountant, and I could be useful doing what I know how to do. And they don't give accountants rifles and send them to the front.
JJ shakes his head no.
JJ
You're wrong on that score. If you'd gotten on the wrong bus you'd be in a trench somewhere right now. And it ain't the Air Force way to put a man in a job he knows how to do. Take me for example. I worked at a little airfield near the farm part-time and I bet I could fix damned never anything with an engine in it. But they got me clerking. I'm supposed to be in Air Services. A shipping clerk. Makin sure this crate from there gets somewhere else. Ain't no justice. But ain't no one gonna be shooting at me, neither. Where you gonna be based?
VRABEC
JJ
An OFFICER starts working his way down the aisle on the plane handing out Survival Manuals.
OFFICER
Get'm while they're hot. We're over the Amazon and you boys will need this to survive if we crash.
He hands Vrabec and JJ copies of the Manual.
OFFICER (to JJ)
Skip all the stuff in the front and just read the last page. That's the only good part.
JJ turns to the last page and starts reading.
JJ
If you lose this survival manual, just remember that whatever the monkeys eat you can eat. If the monkeys are not eating anything, you can eat the monkeys.
Laughter from throughout the plane.
CUT TO:
EXT. C-47 LANDING
CUT TO:
There is a large sign hanging on
the wall that reads "WELCOME TO BELEM, BRAZIL, ARMPIT OF THE
UNIVERSE". The room is filled with
lines of soldiers waiting to present their papers to a row of bored looking men. There are ceiling fans slowly turning, but
everyone is covered with sweat. On the
remaining three walls are large maps showing air routes from the
TO
Next.
Vrabec hands him his orders.
TO
P-38 mechanic.
The TO stamps Vrabec's order twelve times quickly
VRABEC
How so, sir?
TO
We'll have you on a plane for
VRABEC
What's lucky about that?
TO
Could've assigned you to a ship. Next one is in a month. Takes 16 days to get across. Next.
JJ sidles up to the counter and drops his orders in front of the TO. He has to gently push Vrabec aside.
TO
Clerk.
JJ
Nope.
TO
Gotta good reason why I don't put you on the boat?
JJ reaches down into his duffel and pulls out a jar of moonshine.
JJ
Straight from the mountains. The best lightning in the south.
TO
Got any more where that came from?
JJ
You got a plane?
TO
Just say when.
JJ hands him the jar and grins. The TO opens it, takes a swig, and smiles back. JJ holds up the duffel and jiggles it.
TO
I say when once a week to keep your options open.
JJ
Deal.
Vrabec is standing in front of the same TO.
TO
Next. Oh you again. No plane. Come back tomorrow.
VRABEC
But I've got to get out of here!
TO
What's wrong? You don't like
VRABEC
Anything I can do to expedite my ride?
TO
Now that you've gotten smart like your buddy, what'd you bring from the states?
VRABEC
Just what the Air Force let me.
TO
Tough luck. Next.
INT. CANTINA. THAT NIGHT.
The Cantina is a low budget
operation, with War Bonds posters, American flags, and other decorations on the
walls indicating the owners are tying to attract the maximum number of U.S.
servicemen to their bar. The room is filled with
JJ
How's the world treatin' you?
VRABEC
Terrible. There's nothing to do except eat, sleep, drink, and swat mosquitoes. What've you been doing?
JJ
Found me a nice little Brazilian
girl and been shacking up with her. Name's
VRABEC
The way they run the transportation system, we could be stuck here for the rest of the war.
JJ
Suits me fine.
VRABEC
I almost wish I was in the Infantry. At least there'd be some excitement. Almost, but not quite.
JJ
Remember that Survival Manual?
JJ pulls his copy from his back pocket and lays it on the table.
JJ (cont'd)
How about us hunt some of them fierce monkeys? They did issue you a rifle?
Vrabec nods yes.
JJ
And unless you're some kind of
strange person, I'll bet you hunted some when you were back in
VRABEC
Deer mostly.
JJ
How about trying to shoot us some monkeys?
VRABEC
Why the hell not.
EXT. JUNGLE. DAY.
Vrabec and JJ shoot at monkeys and miss.
JJ
Fast little rascals aren't they.
VRABEC
A thousand rounds of ammo and we haven't hit one.
JJ
No one ever said a tommy gun was a precision tool. Let's try again tomorrow. Maybe we can round up some of the other strandees for some help.
EXT. JUNGLE. THE NEXT DAY.
Ten SOLDIERS are prowling through the jungle, sporadic shooting into the trees.
SOLDIER
JJ. I thought you said killing these monkeys would be easy.
JJ
We just don't have enough troops. Let's try tomorrow with some more help.
EXT. JUNGLE. THE NEXT DAY. SUNSET.
A hundred tired soldiers are sitting around a campfire swapping stories.
JJ
Vrabec, we're doing something wrong. We ought to be glad the damned Germans don't live in trees. We'd never win this war.
DARKNESS FALLS.
The jungle is alive with monkey sounds. The men are still sitting around the campfire. The eyes of the monkeys are reflecting the campfire light.
VRABEC
Are those monkey eyes?
JJ
The sum bitches are laughing at us.
VRABEC
You ever go coon hunting in
JJ
Yep. Went out with dogs and lanterns and treed'em. Shot'em out of the trees by the lights of their eyes. They'd freeze in the light. Easy pickens.
VRABEC
Are those monkey eyes?
He points all around.
JJ
You're absolutely right my friend. Men! Listen up. We just figured out how to kill us some monkeys and go home victors. Very carefully pick up your weapons.
The men rustle around and pick up their machine guns.
JJ
Point them at the eyes in the trees.
The men point their guns.
JJ
Fire!
The scene explodes in gunfire and howls. Dead monkeys start falling all around them. Then there is silence and the men stare at the monkey bodies.
JJ
Think we ought to tell them to re-write their survival manual.
(chorus of no's)
JJ
Gather up the kill. There's monkey meat on the menu tonight.
EXT.
The monkey hunters come marching down the street, with poles holding ten or twelve monkeys each. Crowds of people are lined up along the street, cheering the men as they march by.
INT.
TO
You again.
VRABEC
What's it gonna take to get me a flight?
TO
How much cash do you have?
VRABEC
Will $200 get me to
TO
Nope. But it'll get you to Ascension and that's
half way. Make yourself obnoxious once
you get there and they'll get you a lift to
VRABEC
Deal.
Vrabec hands over the money.
TO
Your flight leaves in 2 hours. Next.
INT. CABIN OF A C-47.
Vrabec is sitting amidst cages of cats. Hundreds and hundreds of cats. He goes to the cockpit and sits down in the empty co-pilot's chair. The PILOT is playing a harmonica.
VRABEC
Aren't you supposed to have a co-pilot?
PILOT
You mean you can't fly? I paid good money to that goddamned TO for a good co-pilot on this run. What the hell are you?
VRABEC
An accountant.
PILOT
Judas Priest! Fifteen hundred miles of ocean I've got to fly over by myself.
VRABEC
What're all the cats for?
PILOT
Ascension Base. Seems they've got a big problem with a bunch of goddamned birds nesting at the end of the runway. They call'em Wideawake birds.
VRABEC
How come?
PILOT
Every time a plane takes off its scares the birds and they fly up in front of the plane. Keeps the pilots wide awake. We've been crashing planes because of the birds.
VRABEC
And the cats are supposed to kill the birds?
PILOT (singing)
I know an old lady that swallowed a bird...
The sound of an enormous cat fight is heard in the background.
VRABEC
So they'll have to import dogs to get rid of the cats if the cats get rid of the birds.
PILOT
Right. The Air Force way. I'm glad I never saw the spiders they brought in the birds to kill. You know what beats all? I'm allergic to the goddamned sons of bitches. (sneezes).
VRABEC
The Air Force?
PILOT
The friggin cats. And the little rascals get air sick. This is my third load. Two thousand goddamned cats they want. Cleaned out every pound in the south.
VRABEC
Are the cats working?
PILOT
Nope. The goddamned birds are killing them. Or they're swimming back to
A cat crawls up into Vrabec's lap.
VRABEC
Nice little kitty.
PILOT
Get your ass out of my cockpit. (sneezes).
EXT. ASCENSION ISLAND 4 DAYS LATER.
There is not one stick of vegetation in sight, just the runway, volcanic ash, and an enormous number of birds nesting at the end of the runway and flying about. A group of officers and enlisted men are standing at the edge of the bird nesting area talking with an elderly man in a suit and wearing glasses - the BIRDMAN.
BIRDMAN
So you see, if we crush all their eggs, they'll decide this isn't the best place in the world to nest and they'll move somewhere else.
OFFICER
You're the ornithologist, so you want us to do what?
BIRDMAN
Get everyone on the island out here, and stomp their eggs.
EXT.
Out of the fog covering the
runway comes marching everyone on
A small room with a single desk. The Transportation Officer is playing with a bird egg. Vrabec approaches the Transportation Officer's desk. He is still covered with feathers and bird poop.
VRABEC
Did it work?
TO
Not a Wideawake in sight. Thanks for the help. Where you headed?
Vrabec hands him his orders.
VRABEC
TO
If you don't mind flying shotgun on a B-24 you'll be out of here at dusk.
VRABEC
Just so's the pilot doesn't expect me to fly the plane.
TO
Not to worry. It's a ferry. The plane is going to the British up in
VRABEC
What if we go down?
TO
Tough luck. Standing orders are no search and rescue between here and the African coast. Trying to get the worthless Navy to send some destroyers down to chase off the Germans, but they're too busy up north. Report here at 1600. And here's a momento of your stay at exotic Ascension.
The TO hands Vrabec a medal.
VRABEC
What's this?
TO
The boys in the machine shop knocked off some combat medals commemorating our battle with the Wideawakes. Wear it with pride.
The medal looks like a regular combat medal, only there is a bird engraved on the face of the bronze medallion. Vrabec pins the medal on his uniform and leaves.
CUT TO:
INT. AIR TRANSPORT COMMAND HEADQUARTERS OFFICE.
GENERAL JONES' office is large,
with a desk at one end piled with paper and looking like a pile of raked
leaves. At the other end is a conference
table. The walls are covered with
plaques and photos of the General's career.
In one corner is a
This ATC of yours is a holy
mess. We've got men and planes stacked
up all over the world. I hear we have
more of our boys down at
JONES
I've got two problems you can help me with. First is my command is subordinate to the Regular Army. The local commanders just take our planes for their own projects and foul up our system. The second problem is I need 60,000 more men.
How about this... effective immediately the ATC reports directly to the War Department. That means me. Your operations will be totally independent of the rest of the Air Force and the Army to boot. You report to me and I report to the Joint Chiefs. Below you no one outside your chain of command has one goddamned thing to say about what you do.
JONES
Can you get away with that?
Yep. The Navy still hasn't figured out what an
airplane can do. You'd think they'd've gotten to that one after
JONES
I like the way you think.
You were president of your own
airline company and you wrote
JONES
How about a couple of destroyers?
Franklin sits down as if the air had been let out of his body.
FRANKLIN
Remember the word reasonable. Why do you need destroyers?
JONES
My people report German U boats are sinking all the shipping that supplies our bases in Africa, and they pretend they're downed planes and sucker our planes for a looksee, and shoot them down. We're losing a plane a day off the coast of Africa.
FRANKLIN
Can't your goddamned pilots tell a sub from a plane wreck?
JONES
Not at night when they see an emergency flare.
FRANKLIN
Tell them to ignore the flares.
JONES
We have. But that still doesn't solve the problem of our supplies getting sunk.
FRANKLIN
I'll ask Admiral King for some destroyers. He'll say no. Then I'll give orders for you to do what you have to and stop this crap. The Navy wants to start its own Air Transport command.
Franklin pauses, then smiles.
FRANKLIN (cont'd)
If you don't get your destroyers I'll tell King we're going to start our own damned Navy. Think you could pull that off?
JONES
Let me understand something. You give me the authority to solve my problems and you don't ask questions how I do it, right?
FRANKLIN
As long as you don't steal the Air Force. Right.
JONES
And you back me to the hilt if the shit hits the fan?
FRANKLIN
You get me an air transport system that works and I'll stand in front of the fan.
JONES
I think I 'm going to enjoy this little vacation from running my own airline.
Franklin starts walking out the door of the office, then pauses.
FRANKLIN
You can take a lousy officer and no amount of training will make him a good officer. But you can take a good civilian and make him into a good officer. You give me my airline and prove the military worth of air transport in this war, and you're going to have a lot more to do running your own company once this war is over.
Jones stands and salutes using his left hand.
FRANKLIN
After this war, airplanes are going to be as important for transport as trains and boats are now. And goddammit you salute with your right hand.
Franklin salutes him back and leaves the office. Jones calls his SECRETARY into his office. She walks in.
JONES
New orders. To all ATC base commanders. If any personnel are encountered who do not have orders capable of immediate execution invite them to join the Air Transport Command if they are not already assigned to an ATC unit.
INT. OPS OFFICE ACCRA BASE. NEXT DAY.
Vrabec reports for duty and is shunted to the office of CAPTAIN WATERS, local commander of the ATC. Waters is wearing a regular Air Force uniform, but with a Pan American hat. All around men are painting out the words Pan Am on everything in sight, and painting ATC over. Waters is a small, gnomish looking man about 38.
WATERS
Vrabec, Private Charles A. P-38 mechanic. Don't have any P-38's to fix here. Anything else you can do?
VRABEC
Well... I was an accountant before being drafted.
WATERS
Can you count airplanes?
VRABEC
I suppose so.
WATERS
Here's the offer. I send you up north to a P-38 squadron operating out of Egypt. Or you can join the ATC.
VRABEC
The what?
WATERS
Air Transport Command. The miserable outfit that flew you over. How long did it take? Two weeks? A month to get from the states?
VRABEC
How close to combat do I get?
WATERS
How far away do you want to be?
VRABEC
The current range of the best bomber the Nazis have is 1,300 miles. Fourteen hundred would be nice.
WATERS
You'll be stationed right here. Last report puts us about 1,900 miles from the shooting. You'll be in charge of plans, forecasts, scheduling, and anything else I tell you.
VRABEC
I am a private.
WATERS
Not now you're not. As of this moment you're a Staff Sergeant. If you want, I'll get you commissioned in a couple of months. You want to be a Second Lieutenant?
VRABEC
Not really. I've figured out the average life span of a Second Lieutenant and it's not good.
WATERS
You like to figure things out? Good. There's lots to play with here. Report to Sergeant Johnson and he'll fix you up for quarters, process you in. Report to the Situation Room at 0 700. The first order of business for the day is how many airplanes we have in route from Homestead to India. Be ready with an answer when you report in.
INT. TENT.
Vrabec is unpacking his gear. JOHNSON, a Black, is briefing him about base operations.
JOHNSON
... and as far as creature comforts are concerned there are none. The best we can offer is Abdulh's saloon in town, the best whiskey the black market can provide, and if you can get on the good side of one of the British, you can to go their horse races.
VRABEC
I've got a question. Isn't the Army supposed to be segregated?
JOHNSON
It sure is. When Captain Waters dragooned me into this outfit, some of the Regular Army complained to Washington. Waters countered and pointed out this whole damned country is black, so what the hell. You're from the south, aren't you?
VRABEC
South Texas.
While Vrabec is talking to Johnson he is putting up a map of Africa on the tent pole. He draws a red line on the map in North Africa where the fighting continues. He then puts a tiny little figure on the map over Accra.
JOHNSON
Just what I need. Another rednecked bohunk.
VRABEC
I don't care for the term.
JOHNSON
Red-neck or bohunk? OK. Just don't let me hear the word "nigger" ever pass your lips and we'll get along fine.
VRABEC
What'd Waters want you for?
JOHNSON
I was assigned to Air Services. Supplies. It doesn't hurt to have someone around who knows where everything is, and how to get it, legal or otherwise. What are you supposed to be doing?
VRABEC
Counting airplanes. Schedules. Plans. I used to be an accountant.
JOHNSON
Good. You scratch my back and I'll scratch yours. Say what's the medal you're wearing?
VRABEC
Combat. I helped kill birds over on Ascension.
JOHNSON
I think we're going to get along just fine. Here's a present from the good Captain.
Johnson hands Vrabec a bottle of Black & White scotch.
VRABEC
Where the hell did you get that? There's supposed to be nothing getting in or out of Britain these days due to the subs.
JOHNSON
Just remember, this little old black face can make nice things happen.
VRABEC
All right. Tomorrow morning I have to tell Captain Waters how many planes we have en route. How do I find that out?
JOHNSON
Check in with me a few minutes before you report and I'll have the dope.
VRABEC
What's this little favor going to cost?
JOHNSON
You said you'll be involved with schedules. Just let me know when you've got a passenger flying on secret orders, and this little dump of a base will get lots more comfy for you real quick. Say, what's the map and the little man all about?
VRABEC
Just keeping track of how far from the front I am.
INT. ATC SITUATION ROOM. NEXT MORNING.
The Situation Room is cluttered with desks. Three walls are covered with shingles of weather reports, orders and other papers. The fourth wall has clocks telling the time in Iowa, Belem, Accra, Cairo, Tehran, Assam, and China. In the center of the room is a table with the world from Florida to India on it, and tiny little planes scattered along the marked air routes. One little plane has a white star pinned to it. Waters is yelling at LT. CHASE. Chase is Life Magazines' image of a combat pilot. Vrabec is counting the little airplanes on the table.
WATERS
Who gave you authority to order a C-47 on a mission? Where's the damned plane going?
CHASE
It'll just fly around the base for a couple of hours. At 12, 000 feet. We loaded it up with beer so we could cool it down for the General and his staff.
EXT. C-47 CIRCLING
INT. C-47
Crew is drinking beer. Cargo area is stacked to the ceiling in cases of beer.
INT. SITUATION ROOM.
CHASE
It isn't every day the Commanding General of the ATC comes and visits.
A Regular Army Colonel storms into the Situation Room. COLONEL DROSS is a silver-haired, impeccably dressed, West Pointer. His face is beet red.
DROSS
How is it we have a General due to arrive in a few minutes and no one bothers to tell me, the Base Commander of this event.
WATERS
He's our general. ATC. Not yours.
DROSS
I don't care whose general he is. When's the Honor Guard going to form up? How come your men aren't in dress uniforms? How come there isn't a jeep ready with a star on it? Where is the detail that is going to meet him on the runway?
WATERS
He's just stopping in to pick up some fuel, take a leak, and head over to Belem. I'm going out to meet him. I'll probably take my new recruit Vrabec along.
CHASE
Me too.
WATERS
And Lt. Chase.
DROSS
No you're not. I'm going to handle the meeting.
WATERS
Begging your pardon. The ATC is not in your jurisdiction. The general is mine. Go back to your office.
DROSS
I'll have your court marshalled!
Dross storms from the Situation Room. Vrabec pushes the little plane with the star on it to Accra.
WATERS
That's the 124th time he's threatened to throw me in irons. He just won't get the message that we're no longer subordinate to his command authority.
JOHNSON
(to Vrabec) The ATC is processing paper to promote Waters to Bird Colonel so he'll outrank Dross.
VRABEC
Is Waters regular military?
JOHNSON
Nope. He was the boss of the Pan Am operation here. The ATC took over the Pan Am base and offered him two choices. First he could be sent home and drafted into the Infantry. Second he could stay right here, take a commission, and do pretty much as he always did. A lot of the staff are former Pan Am people.
VRABEC
Item 27 on today's orders is secret. How come you want to know this?
JOHNSON
You're classified confidential. The summary of orders is confidential. When someone's flying through on a secret mission, we're not supposed to know who they are, what they're carrying, or where they are going.
VRABEC
How can I make schedules and plan this operation if we've got people flying around and we can't know what's going on?
JOHNSON
Sometimes it's a whole plane. Or several planes. We just give them MEMT and ESPIO and send them on their merry way?
VRABEC
MEMT?
JOHNSON
Most Expeditious Means of Travel. ESPIO means Exigencies of the Service Precludes Issuing Written Orders. We just pretend like they don't exist.
VRABEC
How is this useful to you?
JOHNSON
Someone shows up and says they're Item 27 on today's orders which are secret, and who knows whether they are for real or not. Only problem is when two show up claiming the same orders.
VRABEC
And one of them might be yours?
JOHNSON
You want a silk suit from Hong Kong? Perfume from Occupied France?
VRABEC
Jesus Christ.
JOHNSON
Every passenger is allowed 40 pounds of baggage. For a small fee, some folks will carry anything. Uniforms you can get anywhere. But a Norwegian Ham?
VRABEC
This sounds seriously illegal.
JOHNSON
It is. But most of the stuff is for officers. Chase makes the arrangements. He's trying to curry some favor higher up and get transferred to Washington. I just help him out.
VRABEC
The beer upstairs being cooled?
JOHNSON
The general's favorite direct from the states. Budweiser.
VRABEC
Certainly he doesn't need a whole plane load.
JOHNSON
Of course not. But are you going to turn down a chance to drink a few bottles of cold beer in a country that doesn't have one single refrigerator.
EXT. RUNWAY.
General Jones' plane lands. Waters, Vrabec, Chase and Dross meet Jones as he gets off the plane. The C-47 with the beer taxies up, and the crew rushes over with armloads of cold beer. Jones nods as beer is loaded onto his plane. Vrabec is wearing his Ascension Island bird medal.
JONES
Captain Waters I presume.
WATERS
Staff Sergeant Charles Vrabec, Lieutenant Chase at your service.
DROSS
Colonel Dross, base commander.
Dross stands at attention, saluting. Jones ignores him.
JONES
Get me to a head quick.
WATERS
At your service.
All but Dross climb into a jeep and drive off towards the base. Dross continues to stand at attention, saluting, as Waters, et al., drive away. He finally throws his hat to the ground, muttering.
DROSS
I'll get those bastards if it's the last thing I do.
INT. JONES' PLANE
Jones and his STAFF AIDE are opening bottles of beer.
JONES
Did you notice something funny about that Sergeant with the foreign name?
STAFF AIDE
Vrabec. He was wearing some kind of medal I've never seen before.
JONES
It had a bird on it. Put Intelligence on it.
STAFF AIDE
Yes sir.
JONES
Who provided the cold brew?
STAFF AIDE
The Lieutenant. Chase.
JONES
Old man Wannamaker's son-in-law. I remember now. Wanted the prick sent to the most god awful base we had and kept there. Enterprising chap. He keeps this sort of thing up we'll have to reconsider.
INT. HANGAR AT ACCRA BASE
The entire ATC staff is gathered in the hangar, listening to a lecture from MAJOR GREEN of Intelligence. Green looks like a weasel.
GREEN
The Germans don't need spies. All they need is to read your mail.
He waves around a handful of letters.
GREEN
You write your moms or your girl friends back home and you tell them where you are, what you're doing, how many planes we have, and what kind of planes we have. The Germans would kill for information like this.
He throws the letters to the hangar floor and stomps on them.
GREEN
Do we have to sit in our offices with crayons and scissors removing all war related information from your