Golden Earrings

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Afternoon, Mr Smith.

Afternoon, Mr Munroe.

- Hello, Bert.

- Hello, Gus.

- Lovely afternoon. Hmph!

- Not 'alf, it ain't.

- Hello, Mr Miggs.

- Hello, young fellow, me lad.

What you got there?

- Package for Major General Denistoun.

- Retired.

Oh. Been chasin' 'im 'alf over

the bloomin' country, that 'as.

- Oh, it has? I'll see that he gets it.

- [Bell Dings]

- Thanks, chum.

- Righto.

Here you are, Horace.

Give that to Major General Denistoun.

And this here, kindly hand it to

Mr Quentin Reynolds. Do you know him?

Yes. [Sniffles]

He's the American.

All right, hop along now.

And blow your

blinkin'nose, will you?

[Sniffles]

- Food is pretty scarce, though.

- Mr Quentin Reynolds?

- Yes.

- Telegram, sir.

- Thank you, son. Excuse me, boys.

- Thank you.

Yes, certainly.

- Beg pardon, sir.

- Yes?

- Package, sir.

- Oh, thank you, Horace.

Well, I'll be damned.

His ears are pierced.

That's what we've been

telling you, old boy.

Yes, but a man like Denistoun.

Old school tie. Sandhurst.

A general with his ears

pierced like a gypsy.

Why, it's fantastic.

What's the idea?

No one has ever had

the cheek to ask him.

He was in Europe

when the war broke out.

Came home

and there they were.

Must have been black magic.

He came home a changed man.

Used to be a most

frightful stuffed shirt.

Quite a nice old chap now.

I say, what's the rush?

Oh, this. I have to grab

a 5.30 plane for Paris.

But look, if either of you boys

get the lowdown on Denistoun's ears...

- drop me a line, will ya?

- Be glad to, if and when.

- Fine.

- Well, so long, Reynolds.

- And thanks for everything.

- So long, man.

I'll be seeing you.

- Nice fellow... for an American.

- Hmm.

Right. Right you are.

Righto.

Bit of a mob on that Paris plane, sir,

but I finally wangled it.

Oh, you're wonderful, Miggs.

You're beautiful!

I love you, Miggs!

Come, let me give you a kiss.

You'd better hurry, sir.

That is, if you're going to pack.

Thank you, Miggs.

- Why don't you ask me and have it over?

- What?

- At least you'll admit you're curious.

- Curious?

- Why, curious about what?

- My ears.

Oh, I'm sorry.

I didn't mean-

Oh, come, come.

Own up.

Well, all right.

But it is odd, you know.

What I mean is, they look

like they've been pierced for earrings.

Do they really?

By Jove, they probably do.

Well, well.

- I was wondering if you'd

mind talking about it.

- Not at all. Not at all.

Then why has it been

top secret for so long?

For the very simple reason

that nobody's ever asked me.

Wait a minute.

Wait a minute.

Let's go back a bit.

How did you know

that I was thinking about your ears?

- How did you know?

- Well, that's part of my story.

There's a woman in it, of course.

A woman of such extraordinary

accomplishments that I-

well, it all started

shortly before war broke out.

I was in Germany. A prisoner.

Before the war? A prisoner?

Yes, I was a lieutenant colonel then.

And together with a youngster

named Byrd was on a special mission.

Very hush-hush, you know.

Not at all in my line, exactly...

except that I spoke

German like a native.

We were trying to nail

a poison gas formula.

Something new. An appalling

by-product of Nazi frightfulness.

Anyway, I don't think

I was very good...

because the blighters knocked us off

like a couple of sitting pheasants.

And we were being held

for questioning, Byrd and I...

in a farmhouse

not very far from Weimar.

[Denistoun] One way and another,

we were in a pretty tight spot.

Our guards, an S.S. First lieutenant

and a couple of troopers...

were as pretty a crew

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