War Arrow

Synopsis: Major Howell Brady and two non-coms are assigned to go to Indian territory and recruit peaceful Seminoles relocated from Florida to aid the army in fighting the larger, rampaging Kiowa tribe. Brady promises them better land than the subsistence reservation they have been assigned to. Maygro, their chief, although initially reluctant, finally agrees for the good of his people. However, Brady's superior, Col. Jackson Meade, is hostile to the idea and distrusts having Indians as allies. Beautiful widow Elaine Corwin, proves a pleasant distraction for Brady although her husband, a unrepentant Confederate whose body was never found, may still be alive and leading the savage Kiowas against the hated Yankees.
Genre: Romance, War, Western
Director(s): George Sherman
Production: Universal
 
IMDB:
5.8
APPROVED
Year:
1953
78 min
115 Views


Whoa! Easy, boy.

Whoa, there. Whoa.

Ah.

Souvenir.

Of what?

Oh, the great Southwest, the

dangerous Indian territory.

Hey, Sarge, ya know,

this is gonna make somethin' nice

to hang on the wall when I retire,

somethin' I can tell

my grandkids lies about.

That arrow's at least a year

old. Pick up a fresh one.

Listen, Sarge, I think

the arrow's extinct.

Couple of weeks, you'll be

pullin' 'em out of your back.

I heard that in St. Louis

a thousand miles ago.

By now, I thought we'd be hackin' our

way through a solid wall of Indian flesh.

Wait until you run into Satanta, chief of

the Kiowas. You'll know you met an Indian.

Oh, he's a tough one, huh? Got his whole

tepee covered with buck sergeants' chevrons.

The only fella gonna get those stripes is

the fella I give 'em to after I got yours.

All right, let's get

movin' back there!

Comanches?

Comanches would have taken a

prisoner. That's a Kiowa specialty.

Picket the horses while

I try to find a shovel.

Great place for souvenirs.

Detail reporting

to Colonel Meade.

Open the gate!

Left to right!

To the left, go!

Forward, go!

Major Howell Brady, Sergeants Luke

Schermerhorn and Agustus Wilks...

reporting

from St. Louis, sir.

How do you do? Captain

Neil, Lieutenant Rolier.

Still a sergeant,

eh, Schermerhorn?

I guess soldiers are like

water. They find their own level.

Pour the sergeants a bath

and a drink:
the drink first.

Come along, Major.

You're to be quartered here for six months

under nobody's orders but your own.

Those are

Gen. Schofield's words.

I don't like it, even

from the secretary of war.

That's natural.

This is good whiskey.

Washington doesn't have to send anybody

around, investigating my command.

As far as I know,

they haven't.

Then what is it? Major Howell

Brady taking over this fort?

I've already

turned down three.

I've been in this army

too many years to be fooled.

Things haven't gone well here, and

they've retired generals for less.

I haven't heard talk of retiring

you. Your record shows...

I know. But you're as good

as your last casualty list.

All right, I'll play the game.

Game?

By elimination, you must be here to

fight Indians. Yeah. That's about it.

One major and two sergeants is not

what I'd call a fighting outfit.

Well, it's a start. What can

you do that I haven't done?

The Kiowas are having a field day,

but why? Nobody's stopping them.

They don't come out by the

hundreds and thousands anymore.

They raid by 10s and 20s.

They hit and they're gone.

I know. I saw some of

their work a few miles back.

Family named McMurdo.

At least they're buried under

a cross. Crude, but a cross.

How can I stop this

with only one command?

You might break it up

into companies or platoons,

send 'em riding

in all directions.

That's what the Kiowas want.

They'd cut us to ribbons.

The only hope for law is to keep this command

intact. When it's gone, the Kiowas rule.

They seem

to be ruling now.

If you're here to fight Indians,

Major, there's a lot of work waiting.

I hear you have Seminoles

in this territory.

Yeah, a small tribe up by Golden.

At least they're peaceful.

You know their chief,

Maygro?

Not personally, but I fought

against his father in Florida.

- What's your opinion of them?

- For eight years in Florida,

they held back almost every regiment of the

army, marines, the navy and 50,000 militia.

All that

with just 400 warriors.

Incredible, wasn't it?

Heh. Expensive too.

The government had to scatter them all over

the country so there wouldn't be another war.

Now they're a poor tribe of

vagabonds living in sod huts...

and trying to raise

a few scrawny sheep.

But they

can still fight.

Fight who?

Kiowas.

You couldn't get a Seminole Indian

to fight for his sister's virtue.

Why not? They've laid

down their guns for good.

The Kiowas run through

their village Just for sport.

Could you get me three

fresh horses and $500?

Anything, Major. I'll have

you quartered within the hour.

Well, don't bother

with anything elaborate.

I'll move Mrs. Corwin out of Capt.

Corwin's house. He was killed recently.

Please don't inconvenience

anyone for me.

There's room for the woman

at my place. You're the C.O.

By the way, there's a birthday

party at my house tonight.

That hardly gives me time

to buy a present.

Don't bother.

You've already given me one:

the funniest story

of the year.

Seminoles fighting Kiowas.

Happy birthday, Colonel.

Thank you, Major.

Excuse me.

Certainly.

So I told him he had to be

in full uniform at all times.

The colonel's special blend.

Major Howell Brady,

ma'am.

I came to dance, if

you'd do me the honor.

We were holding

a conversation, Major.

You should try holding

a girl sometime, Captain.

I have a feeling that patience is not

one of your stronger virtues, Major.

Consider the life span

of the average human,

then subtract all the minutes we

waste in meaningless formalities.

Criminal. There's little enough

time for small pleasures as it is.

As I live and breathe,

a philosopher.

A... a realist.

Well, whatever you are, I'm glad

someone finally asked me to dance.

Is there something about you

I should know? I'm Mrs. Corvvin.

I'm, uh, sorry about having

taken over your house.

The fortunes of war, Major.

Besides, any man who's held

every rank from private to major,

won a field commission, been breveted

twice for exceptional gallantry...

and won the Congressional

Medal of Honor,

there just isn't enough that we can

do for him. Who told you all that?

Col. Meade, and not

without a little envy.

Oh, ah, I'm taking a room in

his house. Yes, so I heard.

And he who gossips will be out

chasing Kiowas in the morning.

They should be anyway.

Don't you go, Major.

We've lost too many

good dancers already.

I'm even more sorry

about your husband.

When did it happen?

About six months ago

on a scouting party.

He must've been

quite a man...

for his memory to have kept you

single on the frontier this long.

They've been proposing to me

by platoons lately.

Bad training.

There are times when

the individual soldier...

is much more effective

than the unit.

You're an exponent of

the one-man frontal attack.

Yes, but I believe in

cautious reconnoitering first.

Better be careful, Major. You're

revealing your position to the enemy.

Enjoy your waltz, Major?

Were we Waltzing?

It was more like

a musical fencing match.

I couldn't get past her

guard. Nobody ever does.

She's a greater threat

to this post than the Kiowas.

- Something oughta be done.

- You'll have to go to the end of the line.

Not him. He doesn't waste his

time on meaningless formalities.

Major Brady, perhaps you'd

tell our younger officers...

of your experiences

fighting the Cheyenne.

They look about as

friendly as the Cheyenne.

A later dance,

Mrs. Corwin?

The Captain's Quadrille. Write

'Elaine' on your card. Thank you.

I thought you were

above flirting.

Was I?

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John Michael Hayes

John Michael Hayes (11 May 1919 – 19 November 2008) was an American screenwriter, who scripted several of Alfred Hitchcock's films in the 1950s. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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