A Walk in the Sun

This book tells a story that

happened long ago, way back in 1943,

when the lead platoon of the

Texas Division hit the beach

at Salerno, sunny Italy.

It tells of Sergeant Tyne,

never had much urge to travel.

Providence Rhode Island may

not be much as cities go,

but it was all he wanted...

a one-town man.

Rivera, Italian American.

Likes opera and would like a wife

and kids, plenty of kids.

Friedman, lathe operator

and amateur boxing champion...

New York City.

Windy, minister's son. Canton, Ohio.

Used to take long walks

alone and just think.

Sergeant Ward, farmer.

Knows his soil.

Good farmer.

McWilliams, first aid man.

Slow, Southern, dependable.

Archimbeau,

platoon scout and prophet.

Talks a lot, but he's all right.

Porter, Sergeant Porter,

well, he has a lot on his mind.

A lot on his mind.

Tranella speaks two languages.

Italian and Brooklyn.

And a lot of other men.

Here's a song about them. Listen.

# And poets are writing

# The tale of that fight

# And songs for children to sing

# Let them sing of the men

of a fighting platoon

# Let them sing of the job they've done

# How they came across the sea

# To sunny Italy

# And took a little walk in the sun

# They took a little

walk in the sun. #

Douse that light.

Douse that light!

Dear Frances,

I'm writing you this letter relaxing

on the deck of a luxury liner.

On shore, the natives have

just spotted us and they're

getting up a little reception...

fireworks, music

and that sort of stuff.

The musicians in our own band

have also struck up a little tune.

Ha-ha.

The gentle waters of Mare Nostrum.

That's really good.

Mare Nostrum.

Hey, Tinker, hey, Tinker.

Hey do you spell Mari Nostrum?

What's that?

- Mediterranean.

That's what the eye-ties call it.

It means our sea.

I want to know how to spell it.

- Why?

I'm writing to my sister.

What do you mean,

you're writing to your sister?

You're packed on a landing barge,

bouncing on your Mare Nostrum,

waiting to hit the beach

like the rest of us slobs.

I'm writing the letter

in my head.

When I get a minute I put

down what I remember in my head

and the letter's written.

It's the best way.

What a system. Does it work?

- Sure.

You just make up the letter in

your head, then write it down later.

That's pretty good.

Maybe I'll try it.

Works, huh?

- Every time.

Suppose you've got a bad memory.

Have you got a bad memory?

- I've got a good one.

Then why are you worrying?

I'm not. I just wondered.

What was that word

you wanted to spell?

Mare Nostrum.

I never learned it just

in the city of Saint Paul.

Still up there.

You're going to get killed.

Pull one, too high.

Those shells ain't interested in us.

- And vice versa.

When a shell's looking for a guy,

it don't whine, it snarls.

You kill me. You guys kill me.

At Messina they

pitched a few strikes.

Here, no control.

What's so funny about Messina?

Lost a lot of good Joes there.

What do you want us to do?

Cry about it?

That's a lot of cocky chatter.

Better than having the jitters.

Would it make you feel better if we

told you we had the jitters?

- Yeah.

It would.

Well... we got them.

Bet that new

lieutenant's got them bad.

Don't load your pack

on the other guy's shoulders.

I'm not.

His first time out leading a platoon

he's never worked with before.

Boy, I wouldn't want

his job for anything.

Nobody's giving it to you.

Porter.

It's a fine time you picked

to go to sleep, soldier.

HE GROANS:

Anything the matter, sir?

Mary and Joseph, all gone...

Pete. Hey, Pete.

What?

- Shell splinter got the lieutenant.

Smashed his face all to...

I can't see anything.

- I can feel it. It's messy.

I think it took his whole face away.

Where's your flashlight?

- You can't shine a light here.

I can shine a light if I have

to shine a light. Where is it?

Cover over.

Take a quick look.

Told you.

Left cheek and his eye,

covered with blood.

Can't even tell whether

the eye's there or not.

Douse that light.

Go and get the first aid man,

what's his name?

McWilliams.

- Yeah. He might as well

start earning his money.

Where is he?

- Down at the stern.

I saw him down in the stern.

Where's McWilliams?

Where's McWilliams,

the first aid man?

Who's that?

- Sergeant Porter.

Oh, here I am, Sergeant.

You want me, Sergeant?

- Lieutenant's hurt.

Sergeant Halverson said for you to go up.

- What's wrong with him?

Get up there and see.

You want me to bring him here?

Just asking.

What is it, Mac?

- What's up?

The lieutenant...

That last shell, uh?

Don't know. Going up to see.

Well, whadya know?

I told him.

What's the matter with

the lieutenant, Sarge?

Old rocking-chair get him?

He had his head over the side.

Looking through binoculars.

What was he looking at?

Is he dead?

Not yet.

What do you know.

It's a purple heart,

sure as little apples.

How'd you like to

have a purple heart, Jake?

Depends on where I got the

purple heart. In the legs, OK.

In the guts, no.

Purple heart means a nice

quiet trip to Jersey City.

I would like a nice

trip to Jersey City.

I'd like a nice quiet trip anywhere.

Haven't had a nice

quiet trip since this war started.

Jersey City would do fine.

I should go back and see

if I can do anything.

- Why don't you?

Lieutenant's going to die,

he's going to die.

Nothing I can do about it.

Nothing in the world.

Blew a hole out

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