See Here, Private Hargrove Page #5

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I was just giving

Private Hargrove

a little personal,

extra instruction.

He found some of the

drills difficult.

I was trying to keep the

squad up to the mark.

Sir.

Are you all right, sergeant?

Haven't you been out

in the sun too long?

Good work, Hargrove.

I like your spirit.

Oh, thank you, sir.

And I'd like to see

you in my office

in the morning, sergeant.

Yes, sir.

Will there be

anything else, sir?

Not "sir," Hargrove!

You say "sir" to the

commissioned officers,

not to the...

never mind, Hargrove.

You may go, Hargrove.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

[Clicks heels]

[Rapid gunfire]

Now, you don't yank

on that trigger

like a soda jerk, Hargrove.

A smooth, slow, easy

squeeze does it.

[Groan]

Well, what are you doing now?

I'm trying to

squeeze it slowly.

Well, for Pete's sakes.

Not that slow.

If that was the

enemy out there,

they'd be cramping

on your head by now.

Even if I was running?

Ev...

shoot, will you? The

suspense is killing me.

[Bang]

3 o'clock!

That's your last round?

Yeah, sarge.

I want to see this score.

Maggie's drawers again.

Well, you're improving.

You didn't hit anybody

else's target that time,

even if you didn't

hit your own.

Man:
B-o-i-d. Bird.

[Typewriter keys clicking]

Esty:
Say, what are you

beating out on that thing?

I have some military secrets

that I'm selling to

foreign governments.

And the beauty of it is, they

don't have to pay me

until the first payday.

What kind of secrets?

Must be about KP

for you to know.

Marion's got a secret formula

for garbage can polish.

Actually, you pair of

illiterate, untutored grafters,

I am composing certain

pieces for my old newspaper,

and for what I am

assured will be

but a very generous

compensation.

Does that mean he'll get

paid for writing something?

That's the impression

he's trying to get across.

Oh, poor little thing.

KP must have sapped

his tired brain.

[Blows whistle] Late mail!

First man:
Hey, fellas!

Here comes the mail!

Um, Flanders.

[Men talking loudly]

Second man:
If I don't get a letter

from my gal, I'm gonna kill her.

Man:
Ok, if you're in

a hurry, there it is.

Wait a minute!

Take it easy now!

Don't be tearin' the mail!

Third man:
Hey, here's that

letter from your girl!

No mail, huh?

No.

Well, here's a girl

you might like.

Why, thanks!

It's all right.

Check?

Yes, a check.

Ohh! That much, eh?

How much, eh?

Oh, enough.

From the paper?

Uh-huh.

Well, what does

the letter say?

It's from the managing editor.

"Dear Hargrove..."

He says it's a masterpiece!

Take all I can send them.

He says it's one of

the finest pieces

he has ever read.

Oh, but why should I bore

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