The Hill Page #4

that crazy doctor inspected...

No talking.

How he gonna know I A-1

by only just looking at my secret weapon?

I told you no talking!

King, Roberts, you're on charge.

- Hey, Staff, he didn't speak.

- Don't answer back.

But, Staff, you charge me.

That man ain't speak.

King, you're a dead cert for bread

and water if you don't stop flapping

that big trap of yours.

- I told you, Staff. He didn't speak.

- Why don't you shut up?

All right, McGrath!

Well, I don't want them two

dropping me in it.

- Next, Staff.

- Yes, sir!

- All right, McGrath, fall out.

- What the hell are you doing, Stevens?

Now cut out this bashful virgin act.

Double it up! Left, right, left, right!

Halt!

Now you two had a great time

of it with the Sergeant Major,

but I'm taking care

of your welfare from now on.

I'll tell you here and now.

I hate the bloody sight of the pair of you.

- Next, Staff!

- Sir! Bartlett, fall out and double over.

All right, move, move, move!

Get your knees up. Get them up.

One of these shy lads, are you, Stevens?

Well?

- Well...

- Well?

- I was...

- You what?

One of these cads who can't make up

his mind whether he's a boy or a girl?

- I'm married, sir.

- Are you now?

And who's who in your little partnership?

We don't have to be treated like that,

do we? I mean...

- Eyes front!

- We're not animals.

Haven't made up my mind

whether you're fish or fowl yet, Stevens.

- Staff!

- Sir.

I want this one scrubbed

with a yard broom.

- He's blacker than a darkie!

- Sir!

- Next, Staff!

- Roberts, double!

- Move it!

- Halt!

Hat off! Inside!

- This is Roberts, sir.

- Take your shirt off.

- Any serious illnesses?

- Do you mean recently, sir?

Anytime.

Smoker's cough.

Drop your trousers.

- Anything else?

- Like what?

- Any recent incapacities?

- Well, I wouldn't brag about it if I had, sir.

Roberts, in this place, it pays to give

a plain answer to a simple question.

Try learning that golden rule.

Turn around.

Right, get dressed.

- Then I'm fit, sir?

- Yes.

Where are you sending me,

to a stud farm?

Roberts, I give you one week,

just one week. Now get out.

- Right now.

- Yes, sir.

About turn. Forward march.

Left, right, left, right.

Attention! Stand at ease!

Attention! Stand at ease!

Attention! Stand at ease! Attention!

- Staff!

- Sir.

I suggest you take the prisoners

on a short excursion.

- Sir.

- To the hill, Staff.

Suggest you take them to the hill.

Let them walk round it.

Inspect it at their leisure.

Then take them up and down it,

say half a dozen times. No more.

Just half a dozen times.

But not Roberts, Staff.

- Not Roberts, sir?

- Not Roberts.

Give him half an hour. That's plenty.

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