Twelve O'Clock High Page #5

They'd stake their lives on Zimmy.

If it was anyone else.

He's got two strikes against him.

That boy's got a persecution complex.

He wants to make up for his parents

being in the German-American Bund.

They screened Zimmy plenty

before he got overseas.

We're not short of good navigators.

If you decide to relieve him,

I'll give you a good replacement.

You might as well ask me

to shoot him in the back.

I won't do it, sir.

I can't do it to him! I won't!

I want you to get to bed.

Have the surgeon give you a shot

so you'll sleep 24 hours.

A man only has so much to give

and you've given it.

You're relieved of command.

Report to me at Bomber Command.

I'll send someone to take over.

- Good night, Keith.

- Good night, sir.

The 918th will stand down until

the new commanding officer arrives.

- Want me to take it, sir?

- No.

I wanna talk, Frank.

There's a hole in the dike, Frank.

I'm scared stiff.

Maybe you know how deep

this goes, maybe you don't.

I've got to spill it, anyhow.

We're fighting all over the world.

Every theater commander is screaming

for crews and equipment.

50,000 airplanes. That's what

they say they're building.

I wish we had 500.

Our problem right now

narrows down to one group.

If the 918th folds, it can spread

to the other three groups.

It can fold the whole deal.

There's only one hope of shortening

this war:
Daylight precision bombing.

If we fold, daylight bombing

is done with.

I don't know.

Maybe it means the whole show.

We could lose if we don't

knock out German industry.

You can smell what's coming.

No man should have to do this job...

...who's had more than

his share of combat.

I'm asking you to take

nice kids and fly...

...until they can't take anymore.

Then fly some more.

We've got to find out

how much a man can take...

...and get it all.

I don't know if any man can do it.

That's what cracked Keith.

What time can you get there tomorrow?

Early, I guess.

No squawks?

It's hard to have one,

the way you put it.

Thanks, Frank.

- Smoke, Ernie?

- Thank you, sir.

All right, sergeant.

Yes, sir.

- You know me?

- No, sir.

- Then why are you admitting me?

- It's a staff car, sir.

Gring could have been in it.

- My A.G.O. Card.

- The general may proceed.

This is a military post, not a zoo.

From now on you'll check

everyone who enters.

Take a good look at me.

If you, or any man on this post,

passes me up without saluting...

...you'll wonder what fell on you.

- You might pass that word around.

- Yes, sir.

- Take my bags to my quarters.

- Yes, sir. Good luck, sir.

Thanks, Ernie.

[WHISTLES]

How do I address you?

I don't quite understand, general.

- What's your rank? How can I tell?

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