Twelve O'Clock High

I hope you enjoy the hat, Mr. Stovall.

- And a pleasant voyage home to you. - Well, thank you.

I'd like to thank you for something else too.

Back home, I'd buy a hat in five minutes.

- Thank you for a most enjoyable hour and 40 minutes. - It was a pleasure.

- Come back soon, Mr. Stovall. - Good-bye, sir.

- Where did you get this? - An auction at Archbury, sir.

- I'll take it. - That one's been knocked around a bit, sir.

- I have a fine Staffordshire here... - No, no, no. I'll take this one.

- How much? - Only ten shillings, sir.

- I'm afraid it's not much value... - Value? I want you to pack it carefully.

Very carefully.

As you say, sir.

We can't go back.

We mustn't go back.

- Easy with his right leg. It's broken. - I got it. I got it.

Easy now, easy now. You have to hold him.

I've been sitting on him.

We can't. We just can't.

I wouldn't believe it if I wasn't looking at it. You can see his brain.

It was a 20 millimeter that hit him.

Step on it, Doc.

- What do I do with an arm, sir? - An arm? Whose arm?

- Campbell's, the turret gunner's. - What happened to the rest of him?

He's in a French hospital... I hope. He couldn't have made it home.

It was blown off too close to put on a tourniquet so I bailed him out.

I put the ring in his good hand. The chute opened.

That's all right. I'll take care of it.

- Sergeant, get me a blanket out of that ambulance. - Yes, sir.

Come on. I'll give you boys a lift.

- Hospital, Mac. - Yes, sir.

Mac's had it.

Did you get the coordinates on a Fort and a Spitfire down in the Channel?

I've already passed them to Air Sea Rescue, sir.

That's it, gentlemen. Thanks a lot.

Next crew.

- Take this one. - Next crew.

Come on, Jesse.

- McKesson's crew. - Right.

- McKesson coming? - McKesson's dead.

Oh, I didn't know. I'm sorry. Well, we might as well get this out of the way.

Sit down.

Where did you first encounter enemy action?

- Bishop. - Leave him alone. He's had enough today.

Leave him alone, can't you?

What is it, Willie?

I don't know, sir.

Not all of it.

We got hit pretty bad the first pass the F.W. S made.

That was when Mac got it.

It took the back of his head right off.

Only he didn't pass out. It just made a crazy man out of him.

He was still shouting orders...

and trying to get the controls away from Jesse when I got up there two hours later.

The kid had been flying with one hand...

and trying to get the controls away from Mac with the other.

Wiping frozen blood off the windshield so he could see.

For two hours, sir.

He made a good bombing run too. We unloaded on the target.

Didn't you know he was in trouble? Why didn't somebody get Mac out of there?

The intercom was shot out and I thought it was violent evasive action.

For two hours?

Mac's foot was jammed in the controls and...

that's how we broke his leg trying to get it out of there.

That seemed to hurt Jesse worst of all.

He started shaking and I... I sat on Mac and held him...

while Jesse brought us in.

Give me a copy of that, Fred, just the way he told it.

I'm sending it in with a recommendation for a Medal of Honor.

- Jesse will be okay. I'll drop by later and see him. - Thank you, sir.

- That's enough for this crew. - That's all, gentlemen. Thank you.

Next crew. Next crew.

Is he in there, Harvey?

No, he hasn't been in since right after interrogation. He looked like the devil.

Well, who wouldn't with today?

That's for you, Ben.

They're flying down three replacement aircraft.

Hmm. That's very, very nice of them.

Lose five, get three. That's a nice gain, not counting battle damage.

This is Germany calling.

Lord Haw-Haw, talking from Berlin.

Today I want to bring a special greeting from the fighter pilots of the Luftwaffe...

to the first American pilots in England, the Eighth Air Force.

That's all we need. Our submarines checked you very carefully...

when you flew across from America... four groups in place so far.

Too bad about the ones who you lost on the way.

But we wanted to let you know...

that a U-boat picked up the crew and they're quite safe here.

We found them quite agreeably talkative too.

But what we want to know...

Whoever persuaded you to try this incredible idea of daylight bombing?

It must have been your friends, the English.

They know better than to try it themselves.

Losses are a little heavy, aren't they?

- Let's take the 918th group at Archbury, for instance. - That's us.

The hard-luck group. You lost five bombers today, didn't you?

Five out of the one group.

Let's see, 21 in a group?

At that rate, it won't take very long, will it?

Something pleasant to think about before your mission tomorrow.

Yes, Colonel Keith Davenport. You'll have another one tomorrow.

Pleasant dreams, my misguided friends.

I don't know why we listen to him.

It's always the same pitch... we've already lost the war.

On a day like this, I could find myself believing him.

What was today's count on crews?

Five crews didn't make it back.

Three killed, 11 wounded out of those who did.

A lot of letters to write.

I'm glad I don't have that one.

- Did you hear about Lord Haw-Haw? - Twice on the way over here.

That kind of news moves fast. Don't let a Kraut newshound throw you too much.

He was right about one thing. We're alerted for tomorrow. The warning just came down.

- Again tomorrow? You're kidding, Ben. - I wish I were, sir.

Fine, fine. Four days in a row.

Well, we'd better start getting things together.

- Alert the crews and I'll see you in the ops room. - Yes, sir.

- This will make you happy. Flak City again. - St. Nazaire?

It's either a feast or a famine. Chew your nails off for three weeks waiting on the weather...

and then cram a month's bombing into four days.

Must be an easier way to run a war.

Field order's snafued too. It says here 9,000 feet.

That's a mistake. I'm sure they mean 19,000. I'll check with Savage.

Another maximum effort.

What have you got in the way of weather? Give us some fog, can't you?

I wish I could, but the target area ought to be C.A.V.U.

About three tenths cloud cover over the Channel. Ideal almost.

- You're no good to me. Let me know if there's any change. - Yes, sir.

How many airplanes have we got left?

With the three new ones and working the crews all night, Nero thinks we can have 18.

How many are the other groups putting up? - Twenty-one a piece, sir.

We'd better camp on Nero's tail.

No, if he says 18, he's giving us everything with wings on it.

What did the other groups lose today?

Two in the 916th, zero in the others.

Our stinking luck. Those flak gunners had the range good by the time we made our run.

- What about crews, Doc? - I could give you a couple of different answers, sir.

I'd better get started on routes and timings.

- No coffee, Ben? - Oh, not now, thanks.

That's getting to be your diet, isn't it? That and cigarettes?

How long since you've had your clothes off?

Never mind my pants, what about crews?

You're crew, when it comes to my certifying you for a mission.

There's the crew availability.

Colonel, about the route and timing of tomorrow's mission?

Start on the routes. But I wouldn't figure on that 9,000-foot altitude...

- until Colonel Davenport checks with Pinetree. - Yes, sir.

Thanks for worrying about me, Doc, only don't.

What about the rest of them?

That brings us to the two answers.

On that list are 28 men asking to be excused from tomorrow's mission,

three times more than normal.

They give a lot of reasons, colds mostly, and most of them haven't got colds.

And that doesn't mean that they've suddenly gone yellow.

It just means that they're getting their bellies full.

Now, do I okay them physically and mark them "duty"?

How much can a man take? What's physical and what isn't?

The rules say a man ought to go right up to the point where he may endanger his crew.

I wish I knew what that meant. If I did, I'd tell you.

Well, can you tell me this... do I okay Bishop for tomorrow?

He had a tough deal. Jesse's a tough boy.

How tough? What happened today must have done something to him inside.

It had to have cost him something.

Somebody's got to give me a policy, some kind of yardstick.

I wish you'd tell me what a "maximum effort" means.

Doc, I wish I knew. I wish I could answer that one.

Hello. Yes. Hello, Pinetree. All right.

Frank, Keith Davenport. Yeah. Yeah, I heard it.

Look, Frank, I didn't call up to talk about Lord Haw-Haw.

What about that cockeyed field order that came down that said 9,000?

What? Oh, you're kidding.

Yeah, but the strike photos don't show what the flak is like in there.

Listen, are you gonna be there a little while?

All right. I'll be right up.

They meant 9,000. Maybe when I get back I can give you an answer, Doc.

No, no mistake. It's 9,000.

Well, we've got to try it. We're not getting hits on those sub-pens.

Yeah, I know. Then twist it. Had the same request all day. So long, Curt.

The Wailing Wall is just around the corner, Keith.

Oh, I don't know. I guess this is it. Sit down.

If you're on the level about this 9,000 foot stuff,

the boys will drop their bombs here tomorrow instead of St. Nazaire.

- Look, Frank... - It won't work. It was tough at 19,000 it'll be suicide at nine.

The guy who dreamed this one up ought to have his brain in a glass jar at Harvard.

- Anything else? - You're kidding?

You've been a group commander. You didn't lead the first ten missions for nothing.

- Why couldn't you tell them what it'll be like? You... - Keith.

I signed the field order.

Why? That's what I want to know.

All right, I'll spell it for you.

We haven't been penetrating the concrete in those sub-pens, Keith.

We can't get concentration and accuracy from 19,000.

We've got to go in once down low to see if we can get the job done in one trip...

instead of fighting our way to the target five times and back for nothing.

Nine thousand feet.

Let's allow from here in that when the old man cuts a field order, he's thought about it.

There isn't time to take every one of them apart to see what makes it tick.

If I were you, when I got one, I'd just go ahead and fly it.

I was gonna bring these down to you tomorrow.

I had to steal them from the RAF.