No Time for Sergeants Page #3

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- Benjamin B. Is Mr. McKinney here?

- Who?

Mr. McKin... Mr. McKinney, the man

on the draft board. I got a letter for him.

Take it easy, sonny. You just missed him.

- Oh, I gotta find him. I got a letter for him.

- He left me in charge.

Hey, give me that. That's a private letter.

It's official business for Mr. McKinney.

Don't you understand English?

I'm in charge.

And here, fill out that form.

- That's a private letter, you big...

- Hey.

Don't get sore at Irving, feller.

He's had ROTC.

That doesn't give him the right

to push me around.

Hey, you put your last name first,

and then your first name.

Like this.

Stockdale, Will. Will Stockdale.

Stockdale. Stockdale?

All you need is one of each.

Is that all?

Wise guy. Oh.

Much obliged.

What's the matter with you?

Oh, they think I'm a draft dodger,

but I ain't.

Here, give me.

You can't write good with handcuffs.

Thanks. Can't write much good

without them. Heh.

- "Ever had measles?"

- No.

- "The mumps?"

- No.

- "Chickenpox?"

- No.

- "Any other communicable diseases?"

- I reckon not.

You figure

they gonna make me go back home?

- "Ever break any bones?"

- Broke a leg bone once.

- "Which leg?"

- The r... No, it was the left.

Yeah, left. Left.

"Any member of your family

belong to groups...

...planning to overthrow the government

by unconstitutional means?"

No, we're pretty satisfied.

- He still limps a mite.

- Who does?

That fellow whose leg bone I broke.

He hit me first.

You ever have ROTC?

No.

Hey, Irving had it. Close to a year.

He's so jumpy and all,

I figure he's still got a touch of it in him.

- Listen, Stockdale, ROTC...

- Will's my name.

- Will, listen, ROTC ain't...

- What was yours again?

- Ben. Ben Whitledge. ROTC...

- Howdy.

Hi.

Look, Will, ROTC ain't a disease.

It's training.

Reserve Officer Training, uh, Corporation.

- Heh. Is that the truth?

- Oh, sure. There's different kinds.

There's cavalry ROTC,

artillery ROTC, infantry ROTC.

- Infantry's the best.

- Yeah, that's what I always thought.

- Ben, Irving ain't sick?

- No.

And he don't rank no higher

than we do.

Because ROTC don't mean nothing

unless you finish the course.

IRVING:

Hey, get this.

"So I beg of you, Mr. McKinney.

Please get my enclosed letter

to the commanding officer in the Air Force."

Hey, you can't read that.

"So that my son Ben

will be put in the infantry...

...the same as his six brothers

before him."

Give me that, you big... Let go.

Let... Let go of me!

"All his life, little Ben has been dreaming

of being a real infantry soldier...

...like all the men in our family."

Little Ben

wanna be a great big soldier?

[MEN LAUGHING]

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