A Walk in the Sun

This book tells a story that happened long ago, way back in 1943,

when the lead platoon of the Texas Division hit the beach at Salerno, sunny Italy.

It tells of Sergeant Tyne,

never had much urge to travel.

Providence Rhode Island may not be much as cities go, but it was all he wanted...

a one-town man.

Rivera, Italian American.

Likes opera and would like a wife and kids, plenty of kids.

Friedman, lathe operator and amateur boxing champion...

New York City.

Windy, minister's son. Canton, Ohio.

Used to take long walks alone and just think.

Sergeant Ward, farmer.

Knows his soil.

Good farmer.

McWilliams, first aid man.

Slow, Southern, dependable.

Archimbeau, platoon scout and prophet.

Talks a lot, but he's all right.

Porter, Sergeant Porter,

well, he has a lot on his mind.

A lot on his mind.

Tranella speaks two languages.

Italian and Brooklyn.

And a lot of other men.

Here's a song about them. Listen.

Douse that light. Douse that light!

Dear Frances,

I'm writing you this letter relaxing on the deck of a luxury liner.

On shore, the natives have just spotted us and they're getting up a little reception...

fireworks, music and that sort of stuff.

The musicians in our own band have also struck up a little tune.

Ha-ha.

The gentle waters of Mare Nostrum.

That's really good.

Mare Nostrum.

Hey, Tinker, hey, Tinker.

Hey do you spell Mari Nostrum?

What's that? Mediterranean. That's what the eyeties call it.

It means our sea.

I want to know how to spell it. Why?

I'm writing to my sister.

What do you mean, you're writing to your sister?

You're packed on a landing barge, bouncing on your Mare Nostrum,

waiting to hit the beach like the rest of us slobs.

I'm writing the letter in my head.

When I get a minute I put down what I remember in my head and the letter's written.

It's the best way.

What a system. Does it work? Sure.

You just make up the letter in your head, then write it down later.

That's pretty good.

Maybe I'll try it.

Works, huh? Every time.

Suppose you've got a bad memory.

Have you got a bad memory? I've got a good one.

Then why are you worrying?

I'm not. I just wondered.

What was that word you wanted to spell?

Mare Nostrum.

I never learned it just in the city of Saint Paul.

Still up there.

You're going to get killed.

Pull one, too high.

Those shells ain't interested in us. And vice versa.

When a shell's looking for a guy, it don't whine, it snarls.

You kill me. You guys kill me.

At Messina they pitched a few strikes.

Here, no control.

What's so funny about Messina?

Lost a lot of good Joes there.

What do you want us to do? Cry about it?

That's a lot of cocky chatter.

Better than having the jitters.

Would it make you feel better if we told you we had the jitters? Yeah.

It would.

Well... we got them.

Bet that new lieutenant's got them bad.

Don't load your pack on the other guy's shoulders.

I'm not.

His first time out leading a platoon he's never worked with before.

Boy, I wouldn't want his job for anything.

Nobody's giving it to you.

Porter.

It's a fine time you picked to go to sleep, soldier.

HE GROANS

Anything the matter, sir?

Mary and Joseph, all gone...

Pete. Hey, Pete.

What? Shell splinter got the lieutenant.

Smashed his face all to...

I can't see anything. I can feel it. It's messy.

I think it took his whole face away.

Where's your flashlight? You can't shine a light here.

I can shine a light if I have to shine a light. Where is it?

Cover over. Take a quick look.

Told you.

Left cheek and his eye, covered with blood.

Can't even tell whether the eye's there or not.

Douse that light.

Go and get the first aid man, what's his name?

McWilliams. Yeah. He might as well start earning his money.

Where is he? Down at the stern.

I saw him down in the stern.

Where's McWilliams?

Where's McWilliams, the first aid man?

Who's that? Sergeant Porter.

Oh, here I am, Sergeant.

You want me, Sergeant? Lieutenant's hurt.

Sergeant Halverson said for you to go up. What's wrong with him?

Get up there and see. You want me to bring him here?

Just asking.

What is it, Mac? What's up?

The lieutenant...

That last shell, uh?

Don't know. Going up to see.

Well, whadya know?

I told him.

What's the matter with the lieutenant, Sarge? Old rocking-chair get him?

He had his head over the side. Looking through binoculars.

What was he looking at?

Is he dead?

Not yet.

What do you know.

It's a purple heart, sure as little apples.

How'd you like to have a purple heart, Jake?

Depends on where I got the purple heart. In the legs, OK.

In the guts, no.

Purple heart means a nice quiet trip to Jersey City.

I would like a nice trip to Jersey City.

I'd like a nice quiet trip anywhere.

Haven't had a nice quiet trip since this war started.

Jersey City would do fine.

I should go back and see if I can do anything. Why don't you?

Lieutenant's going to die, he's going to die.

Nothing I can do about it. Nothing in the world.

Blew a hole out the side of his head.

In the head, no. I don't want a purple heart in the head.

Joey Sims got one in the head.

I'll bet he'll look better when they're through with him than you do now.

I don't want a purple heart in the head.

Is Sergeant Halverson in command now, Sergeant?

He knows what to do.

He always knows what to do. Shut up.

What did the lieutenant do before the Army?

He was a businessman. He worked in an office.

Well, I worked in an office, but I was no businessman.

The whole Army's made up of businessmen.

You kill me.

He'll be a businessman in 1956 while we're fighting the Battle of Tibet.

I've got the facts down cold.

Put him on a nice hospital ship and take him to a nice hospital

and give him a couple of nice medals and take him home and give him his walking papers

and he'll go back to business while we're fighting the Battle of Tibet.

I've got the facts.

Maybe he'll die.

Nobody dies.

Nobody dies.

I've got to get word to the captain.

As soon as we land, I've got to get word to him. Do you know what to do?

Course I know! We've been briefed.

The farmhouse may be pretty hard to find. It's on the map.

There's a road from the beach that leads right past. Six miles is a long way.

What do they expect? A reception committee with a dozen taxis?

That's the story.

How's it coming, Mac?

All right, I guess.

We'd better get him to a doctor, though.

He ain't going to be pretty any more.

Might not be alive any more, either.

Bad, huh? I guess so.

Trying to talk all the time.

Can't you hear him?

I didn't hear anything. Not words.

Just talk. Is he comfortable, Mac?

He wouldn't know if he was comfortable or not.

Tough ticket. He don't mind.

Nearly time.

Mac, you can pick us up later.

When it gets lighter, you'll see a road running from the beach.

We'll be on that road.

Hoist tail! Hoist tail!

Hoist tail!

There'll be a honey of a show on that beach.

A honey of a show.

Take them up 100 yards from the beach and hit the dirt.

I've got to get word to the captain, then I'll pick you up.

Let me get word to the captain.

Remember, 100 yards from the beach and hit the dirt.

Doesn't matter where you are. Don't care if it's a pig pen.

OK, Hal.

I was wrong, Eddie, they did give you the job.

You know the lieutenant got wounded.

As platoon sergeant, I'm in command.

Each one of you knows what to do.

Porter's going to take you up on the beach.

Go with him and do as he tells you.

Understand?