They Came to Cordura Page #2

I'm sending it to Washington. | Meanwhile, you'll be sent to Cordura.

Stay there until we get the telegraph | from the War Department approving it.

That is why you won't fight tomorrow.

Hetherington, I'd like to ask | you a personal question.

I'd appreciate your answering.

What you did at Guerrero | was a very brave thing.

What made you do it?

Try to remember. | It's very important to me.

Try to remember how it was. | What you felt. What you thought.

- Major. | - Yes?

I'm sorry I got to crying. | I couldn't help it.

I did remember how it was, | but I didn't wanna say.

The honest truth is that at Guerrero, | the Lord took hold of me.

- The Lord? | - You see, major, I'd lost the faith.

Faith in what?

My father's church, | Christ Resurrected.

- Was he a preacher? | - Evangelist.

We were always travelling. | At meetings...

...he'd play trombone, my mother | the organ. I recited the Bible.

Would you believe by the time I was 8, | I knew the whole Bible by heart.

Try me. Any verse, any chapter.

- I believe you, son. | - I should know it.

He beat it into me.

I lost the faith and ran away.

But at Guerrero, sir, I found it again.

The Lord took hold of me again. | I swear he did.

I'm sure glad I won't | have to fight tomorrow.

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Line the troops in column of fours!

Guidons out!

Line of troops in column of twos!

Line of troopers boot to boot!

Companies, halt!

Left troops, envelop the ranch!

Don't fire your pistols | until the charge strikes.

Officers post!

Seor Arreaga?

Arreaga!

- Draw pistols! | - Draw pistols!

- Trot, ho! | - Trot, ho!

- Charge! | - Charge!

This way! Take cover, this way!

What are we gonna do now, | lieutenant?

- We can't just sit here, sir. | - Cover me!

Okay, boys, I'm shooting one, | two, three, four bandoleers.

And a rifle.

- Here, the last two bandoleers. | - Shoot. You're faded.

Come on, dice now. | You be true to Trubee, dice!

Hey, natural!

Come on, dice. | Right back, little Phoebe. Right back!

Tom.

I've been praying, Tom, and thanking | God for giving me a victory.

A charge. Think of it, Tom.

Maybe the last one for the old cavalry.

How I wish your father | were alive to see it.

Why, this'll make a whole issue | of the "Cavalry Journal," Tom.

They'll cheer it on the floor | of Congress.

Do you realize that I may have my | general's star before the week's out?

Thirty-nine years I've waited for today. | I'm 63, you know.

They'll put me out | to grass in August...

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