The Fighting Seabees

Ding! Where's Ryan?

You see Wedge?

- I can't hear you! - Hi, Wedge!

Ryan!

- Oh, I'm sorry. - It's quite all right. Excuse me.

- Bob! - Oh, I am sorry.

Let's not make this a habit.

The lady's difficult.

Excuse me.

Bob!

Sorry, you can't come through here.

It's all right, I'm Connie Chesley, Inter-Ocean news service.

Pleased to meet you. I'm Ben Hedburg. So what, cookie?

It's all right, Coxswain. You can let her through.

Yes, sir.

- Hello. - Connie.

- How are you? - I'm just wonderful, darling.

- And you? - Good.

- Mr. Collins. - Howdy, Wedge.

- Rollie. - Hi, ya, Wedge.

Yump, how are ya?

Glad to see ya, Brick. Hans, good to see you.

Where's Denny Ryan?

Denny ain't comin' back.

- Anyone else? - Evans, Burns and Long Louie.

- Where's Johnson? - Hello, Wedge.

Hello, fella.

Well, this one's nearest my heart, anyhow.

- What happened? - They wouldn't give us any guns.

We wanted to fight, but we didn't have no chance. They wouldn't give us guns.

Who wouldn't give you guns?

That gold braid over there.

The Japs sneaked in a landing party, infiltrated our covering posts,

and then rushed the workmen.

The workmen?

You see, they're technicians who couldn't be replaced within 7,000 miles.

Getting them means more to the Japs than getting us, out there.

Something ought to be done about this, Bob. Something will be done.

- And I mean to see that it's done. - Mister?

I gave you a gang of men to build an airfield in the pacific.

They were whole men. Take a look at 'em now!

- I hope you can sleep nights. - Aren't you mixing your pronouns a little?

Didn't you refuse them arms to protect themselves?

That's right.

- And I'm not apologizing for it. - Apologies won't bring back my men.

- Are you Donovan? - Yes.

- Then, you're just the man I want to see. - About what?

About what's eating you right now.

I didn't arm your men because civilians found armed are shot like spies.

- It's a rule of war. - What do you think happened to them?

I know what happened to them. That's why the rules have to be changed.

We're not fighting men anymore. We're fighting animals.

I want your men armed in the future, legally armed,

and I'll need your help to do it.

Well, on second thought, I guess you don't make the rules.

Keep talking, sailor.

I'm Lieutenant Commander Yarrow.

This is Miss Chesley.

I'd like to talk to you about this as soon as possible.

- Could you join us for dinner? - Well, I can't.

I'm giving a welcome-home party for my men at the St. George.

Why don't you two join us? We could talk then.

- Fine. We'll be there. - I'll be expecting you around 9.

Right.

And so, to you gentlemen of the Donovan Construction Company,

who have been so devoted, so unbegrudging,

so stuffy, so...

Ladies and gentlemen, I have a toast to offer.

Mr. Donovan!

Excuse me a minute, will ya?

-You're welcome, Commander. - Oh, thank you.

I'm Eddie Powers, Donovan's factotum, meaning, "Man Friday."

That's Latin.

I see. Well, I'm glad to know you, Friday, even if it's only Thursday.

- This is Miss Chesley. - The navy's "Blue Monday."

Pleased to meet you. If you follow me, you'll wallow in bubble water.

- Well, here's Mr. Donovan. - Hello, hello.

- The navy and his lady. - You hear our song?

Not a sour note in the whole gang.

- Nothing like it at the metropolitan. - I'll say.

You seem to be a man of many talents, Mr. Donovan.

Don't be so susceptible, Connie. I play a mean mouth organ myself.

You do, sailor? We'll have to play a duet sometime.

You were saying this afternoon that I could help you.

- That's right. - How?

By coming with me to Washington, representing the construction angle.

Helping me sell my plan to the navy.

Sell the idea of arming construction gangs? What is there to sell?

- Well, there's a... - Oh, nothing at all, just an Admiral or two,

and a few battleships to be pushed around.

There's more to it than you think.

Could you find me a thousand men- cat-skinners, hoisters, drillers...

every kind of specialist in their proper proportion?

You have 'em, sailor. All we'll have to do...

You do things easily, Mr. Donovan, by just a wave of the hand.

Who was it flung seeds on the earth, and saw furrows of armed men...

rise from them between sunset and sunrise?

- Or vice-versa? - That was St. Patrick, ma'am.

Eddie, will you do me a favor?

Name it, boss, and it's a fait accompli,

meanin' "in the bag". That's French.

Take baby snooks out and buy her a Popsicle.

Connie, it looks like...

I'm quite capable of recognizing a hint when I hear one.

Shall we waltz, Mr. Powers?

I must be warnin' you, Miss. I'm no terpsichorean.

It's a relief to be out of earshot of that important baboon.

Oh, don't let the boys hear you call him that, lady,

or you'll go home in a state of "ecdysical" embarrassment.

- I will? - You will.

Oh, Mr. Powers,

if I go home in a state of "ecdysical" embarrassment, how will I go home?

Wearin' nothin' but your hat!

Frankly, I don't get it,

his throwing a brawl like this for his men,

when they come home with five dead and four crippled.

That's Donovan's way of showing his appreciation for the men who did a job.

Oh.

- I suppose you'd like a drink. - Well, that I would, ma'am.

Shall we sit here?

Please, that's for the five who didn't come back.

I see.

How did you come to work for Donovan, Eddie?

I didn't. He came to me.

To you?

Yep. I was the boss of a sewer gang in Brooklyn,

and he braced me for a job.

I should have chased him off, but I gave him a muck shovel instead.

He looked starved. I'll never forget.

He was only 14... and skinny as a rail!

But I'd still like that drink, ma'am.

Well, Eddie, suppose you go and get yourself one?

Well, thank you.

How you doing?

I haven't had a real chance to talk to him yet.

He has promised to come to Washington. They'll listen to him.

His reputation in construction is tops.

There's more than that to his reputation. I looked in our files.

So?

Let me warn you that your friend Donovan...

is a hotheaded ape with a hair-trigger temper.

When he's nice, he's very, very nice, and when he's not, he's stinkin'.

Hello. Yeah?

Wait a minute. Hey, Wedge.

Yeah?

The manager of the hotel wants to talk to ya.

So it's you again. Yeah, yeah, yeah.

You're the manager and we're makin' too much noise.

So what? I rented this suite till 10:00 tomorrow morning.

- I don't want any more calls. - Ain't wantin' to get any more calls?

- No. - Ain't gonna make any calls out?

No!

Hey, Wedge.

This her is "Twinkles" Tucker. She claims to be a champion jitterbug.

But she says she'll no dance with anyone but the boss.

Come on, Wedge. Get in there. Oh, come on, Wedge.

- What do I do now? - Pull.

Hey, jitterbug! Attaboy, Wedge.

- I like your finish. - Yeah, "finish" is right.

So don't forget, we've got a date.

Gonna see you tomorrow in Washington, 11:00.

- Captain Joyce's office. - I'll be there, right on the pin.

Say, uh, what do you two do for an encore?

Oh.

- Right on the pin. Ready to go? - All set.

- What are you doing here? - Waiting to join you two...

in a little celebration at lunch time, I hope.

It's in the bag. You can order the wine.

- Captain Joyce will see you now. - Oh, thank you.

Don't you wish you could come inside and hear what's going on?

Might make a front-page story.

- Want me to fix it up for ya? - Don't bother.

I'll know more about it in 24 hours than you will.

- It's nice to see you, Bob. - Thank you, sir.

- This is Mr. Donovan. Captain Joyce. - Good morning, Mr. Donovan.

- Good morning. - Your name is a familiar one to this bureau.

- Sit down, won't you, please? - Thank you.

Commander Yarrow wanted you on hand when he discussed some matter with me.

Mr. Donovan had a construction job on the island when the Japanese attacked, sir.

- Most of his crew were killed. - Yes, I know.

If these men had been in uniform, they might still be alive.

They would be alive.