Carry On Sergeant Page #3

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How in the name of Aldershot can it work out?

Well, it's got to. Your reputation depends on it.

My reputation, my foot!

What about my 50 quid riding on that lot, eh?

No, that's true. Oh, well.

There's only one thing for it.

Chase the living daylights out of them.

Oh, no, no, no. That's no good. That'd be fatal.

HaIf the mob in the guardroom's no good to me.

- Yes, but Sergeant...

- Will you have hush!

No, Copping, we've got to be...subtle.

Subtle.

We must be kind. Considerate.

- Kind?

- Yes.

These are delicate blooms, Copping.

- Are they?

- Yes.

(Whistles)

Hello. You must be the new lot.

- Greetings, cat.

- Cat?

No, my name's not Cat.

- Are you in our platoon?

- No, not Cat.

Brown. Herbert Brown.

- What did you say?

- Are you in our platoon?

No. l just live here.

Yeah, I think I can understand him.

You er...received a severe blow on the head

as a child, didn't you?

No, that was my brother.

Horace, old man,

can't you forget psychiatry for one minute?

I was only trying to help him.

Oh, I don't need any help, thanks.

Well, ta-ra, fellas.

See you at the NAAFl perhaps.

- Hello, corp.

- Don't get lost.

- 'Ere, Corporal. Who was that soldier?

- Ta.

- That was no soldier, that was Herbert.

- l give up.

Don't worry, so did the army.

- Here we are, chaps. Help yourselves.

- Thank you.

- l wonder where Charlie's got to.

- With his wife, of course. Love will find a way.

Look here, mate. You don't really think

that that woman's on this camp, do you?

- I tell you, it's just...

- An hallucination. We know.

(Laughter)

- All right, all right. You can laugh.

l should never have let him go.

He's probably cutting his throat now.

Bleeding to death in the ablutions.

I hope not.

I have to sluice them out every morning.

l clean up everywhere in the camp.

That's my job.

- Are you a regular?

- No. National Service.

'Ere, what about your training?

Don't do it any more.

Haven't done it for... for months.

I want to try again.

Again? How many courses

have you been through?

Three. I think.

But now l...

Look.

There's my "excused webbing" chit.

My "excused marching" chit.

"Excused handling of firearms" chit.

- Chit for...

- Blimey! You're just an heap of chits!

Well, go on, say it.

I'm crackers.

- No luck?

- Does it look as if I've had any luck?

This place is vast.

I've tramped over every inch of it

and not so much as a lock of her hair.

Well, go on, say it. I'm crackers.

(Sighs) lt was all my imagination.

Oh, well, now,

this is a great step forward, Charlie boy.

You see, now that you realise

there's something wrong with you,

well, there's a chance of a cure.

Yes, now, you are a er...

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