Hart's w*r (2002)

[bunniefuu]

On the other side

of the world...

in Europe the Allied forces

are pounding the Germans...

with relentless force.

We do not expect to have

a winter lull in Europe.

We expect to

keep striking...

to keep the enemy

on the move...

and hit him again

and again.

1944, December.

I was miles

from the front...

and a stranger to w*r.

Troops, fuel dumps...

enemy units...

they were pins

on a map to me.

Champagne?

Are you trying

to score a few points?

Just trying to aid

the w*r effort, Hart.

Tom.

Sir.

The captain needs a lift

back to the 106th.

Can you find him a driver?

I can take him, sir.

Funny. I had a feeling

you'd say that.

Well, there hasn't been

much movement today, sir.

So I see. Captain.

Oh, don't forget, sir.

You wanted to send some of that

champagne along as well.

Yes.

Yes, thank you

for reminding me, Tom.

The general should get

a kick out of that.

Colonel.

Troops are now fighting...

along a battle line

of 300 miles in Poland...

France, and Germany.

Within 10 weeks

after the first landings

in France last June,

the Allies have landed

nearly 2 million men.

You know what

this army could use, sir?

Snowplow services.

What we could use...

is half a million gallons

of gasoline...

and a road

that wasn't paved...

for Bouncing Betties.

German S-mines.

Yes, sir.

You really ought

to spend a night...

on the line sometime,

Lieutenant.

I know that, sir.

Of course,

it's not too likely, is it?

Sir?

The Colonel says

your father is a senator.

So I guess you won't

spend too many nights...

in a foxhole, will you?

It's nothing

to be ashamed of, son.

That's a hell

of a father to have.

-Where to, sir?

-St. Vith.

I'm afraid you've gone

the wrong way, sir.

St. Vith is due west.

I'm pretty sure

St. Vith is due east.

Sergeant,

it's straight ahead.

Can I see that, sir?

I drove this route

yesterday, Sergeant.

Mm-hmm.

Get your hands up.

Out!

Halt!

Are you in great pain?

First Lieutenant...

Thomas Hart.

Serial number...

Would you care

for a cigarette?

Your train is

an 8 kilometer march from here.

Of course,

with some shoes on...

you might be all right.

First Lieutenant...

Thomas Hart.

Serial number 1841287.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

But we both know...

there is much more

to you than that.

Show me locations

of the fuel dumps.

Just point...

and we can end all this.

I'll have your clothes

returned to you immediately.

When you are dressed,

we'll have another chat.

Our last one, I hope.

Smile, Joe.

For you the w*r is over.

Lieutenant.

This will help

against the cold.

No thanks, soldier.

I'll be all right.

No, you won't.

Come on. Take it.

Just till you warm up.

Take it, sir.

Hey, Captain...

does somebody tell our folks

about us being captured?

Germans give a list

to the military...

and the military

notifies the family.

Is that voluntary, sir?

How do you mean,

Lieutenant?

Uh, I mean...

can you ask them not to?

I don't think so.

Have to put

some straw in there.

Straw in your shoes...

for frostbite.

Another sl*ve detail, sir.

Hey, ladies...

next batch of shells

you turn out...

nothing but duds

this time, all right?

Mortars no boom boom, ja?

Fire!

Captain, P-51 incoming.

-Incoming!

-Ours?

Get down, everybody!

Get down!

Everybody stay down!

Keep low!

Captain, what's happening?

Why are they

sh**ting at us?

They can't read the roof.

All right, get the doors!

Everybody get the doors!

Come on, now!

Get down!

Get down! Down!

Hart, help out!

-Come on!

-Go! Go! Go!

Go on, now!

Let's go!

Moving out!

Get the other cars!

Get the other cars!

Let's go! Now!

We're spelling out!

Round up your men now!

We're spelling out

our position!

We're spelling out!

Hart, get that man

clear of here.

Let's get in line!

Assemble on me!

-Assemble!

-Move it! Move it!

All right, men!

Let's get back in line!

Move it!

It's not helping.

Come on, men!

Oh, Christ.

Are you OK?

Keep looking at me.

Look at me.

Look at me.

Oh, shit. Shit.

All right.

Are you all right?

They're telling us to march.

Probably ought to take

his boots, Lieutenant.

Lieutenant!

Take his boots.

Because either you

or some Jerry's gonna get them.

Take them, sir...

while you still got feet

to put them on.

His socks, too.

Ain't gonna help him any.

Stay together.

All right.

Once again...

I'm forced to remind you

escape is not a sport.

Think of it this way.

Now these Russians

have a chance...

at a happy new year.

Those are dogs

you're saluting, Colonel.

Animals.

My country doesn't make...

those kinds of

distinctions, Colonel.

They're our allies, Colonel.

Oh, yes.

You and your allies.

Let me tell you

about you and your allies.

The Ministry of w*r

has just released the figures...

from our offensive

in the Ardennes.

Two hundred thousand Allies

k*lled or captured.

Your Third Army--

Patton--

in full retreat.

And the wehrmacht has captured

enough abundant fuel...

to retake Paris--

perhaps even drive

your troops back to the sea.

Might be a bit crowded

around here this winter.

Turn around, Joes.

Yes. Turn around.

Ross. Hart.

Ross and Hart.

I'm Captain Ross.

Major Clary.

Lieutenant Hart.

Lieutenant.

Debriefing, gentleman.

Officer's hut.

On the double.

The German counterattack on

the American Third Army front...

The German counterattack on

the American Third Army front...

is still going on.

The entire front...

stretching about

30 miles south of Monschau...

is in full view.

On our side,

countermeasures are being taken.

On the enemy's side,

more strafes are being flown in.

This is a major German effort.

Some of the best units

in the German army...

were involved

in this penetration.

At ease, soldier.

Sit down.

Thank you, sir.

So tell me, Lieutenant...

How come you're not dead?

Sir?

First you survive

crashing that jeep...

then Hans and Fritz

take your boots.

You got a rabbit's foot

in your pocket, son?

Two horseshoes

and a 4-leaf clover, sir.

Atta boy.

By the way...

you might want to take it easy

on that bread.

You haven't had anything

solid for a while.

Wouldn't want you to wind up

in the infirmary.

I don't know, sir.

After the march I just made...

and infirmary might look

like the Waldorf to me.

A stomach can shrink

quite a bit in 17 days.

That's the number, isn't it?

Seventeen days?

Six days on the train...

another 6 days of marching.

What was it, Joe?

Five days of interrogation?

No, sir.

Three days.

Well, anyway...

easy does it.

Yes, sir. Thank you.

So this interrogator

they threw at you...

his name wasn't Schumann,

was it?

No, sir.

Lutz.

Schumann was a real prick.

Almost broke me in two.

Not much for small talk,

I guess.

You come to appreciate that.

Smoke, Lieutenant?

Would you care

for a cigarette?

Again, Lieutenant,

I need to ask you...

the fuel dumps...

Thank you.

This Captain Lutz...

he know much about

your operations at the chateau?

He knew everything, sir.

Fuel dump locations?

Troop movements?

Sir, he knew what

I'd had for breakfast...

the morning of my capture.

Point,

and we can end all this.

Just name, rank,

and serial number.

Good enough.

You're excused, Lieutenant.

Unfortunately,

we won't be able...

to quarter you here.

We're full up.

We're gonna have to

put you in Barracks 27.

Isn't barracks 27

for enlisted men, sir?

Yes, it is...

but as you can see...

the Germans are doing a rather

brisk business these days.

You'll be comfortable there.

Sir.

-Lieutenant.

-Sir.

Point.

Point or say

hello to stumps...

for the rest

of your life.

Good.

Don, are you in?

I called.

Hold your water, Joe.

Hold your water, Joe.

Looks like a whole division

just surrendered.

Who's in charge here?

Hey, how many we up to?

Three lovely ladies,

big shot.

That's right.

That's right.

-Excuse me.

-Yeah?

I'm looking for

who's in charge here.

From the looks of things,

I'd say Adolf Hitler.

I'm Lieutenant Tom Hart.

It's OK, folks.

Staff Sergeant Vic Bedford.

-Good to meet you.

-You, too.

You just come in

from Ardennes?

Yeah.

Colonel sent me over

to bunk in here.

Officers' barracks are full.

Well, in that case,

welcome to Rio.

Hope you don't mind, sir.

All we have is this

middle bunk right here.

It looks fine.

I'm betting you're

a Lucky Strike man.

You bet right.

Care for some hooch,

Lieutenant?

Ringing in the new year.

Uh, thanks. I'm fine.

It's fermented raisins,

mostly.

A little turpentine

thrown in for flavor.

I'm fine.

We got anybody

left up front, sir?

How are you doing,

Lieutenant?

Private.

Give him a break, fellas.

He just got here.

Lieutenant.

Guard them with your life.

They double for cash

around here--

especially with the guards.

-Thanks, Sergeant.

-Excuse me a second.

Fellas, listen up.

Lieutenant Hart here...

is going to be staying

with us for a while.

-Hello, sir.

-Men.

Say, what's it take

to get in that poker game?

I expect we can work

something out.

Good.

Sir, are you about a size 10?

Why?

They got a Woolworth's

behind one of these barracks?

You never know.

Just piss on him, sir.

Huh?

It's the only thing

that gets him moving.

Happy New Year.

New year.

It's 1945!

Happy New Year!

Ten and a half

is the best I could do.

The holiday season.

Look at the smile

on this guy.

Socks, too.

Could have used those

in the...

What's the matter,

you don't like trench foot?

Sure, it's just that

once my toenails turned black...

I didn't have a single purse

that matched.

Square them up, Major.

Yes, sir.

Look at this.

They've got those poor bastards

going around the clock now.

See that factory

up past the North tower?

The Germans are making bombs

right under our noses.

It's supposed to be

a shoe factory.

Instead, they've got the

Russians running in and out...

making mortar shells.

What the hell is that?

One of their flyers.

Wait a minute, they've got

n*gg*r*s flying airplanes, now?

Three hundred and thirty-second

Fight Squadron.

I read about them

in ''Yank Magazine.''

I'll be damned.

Well, we got us

some n*gg*r officers.

f*cking Jerry's right.

We must be losing this w*r.

Five, 6, 7, 8. Lift! Lift!

-Lieutenant.

-Sir.

Looks like it'll be a good show.

Yeah, it does.

It's high stakes

around here, sir.

What do you mean?

Half the smokes in camp

are riding on...

where you're putting

the new men.

Where do you think

we should put them?

I think I'd give them

their own billet tent, sir.

Well, we can't do that.

I was thinking about

putting them in 27 with you.

Sir, wouldn't they be better off

in the officers' barracks?

I don't carry enough weight

to move 2 officers out of 22.

I can't make them

the only 2 officers...

in the enlisted men's barracks.

You're in 27.

Figure you can keep

an eye on them for me.

Sir, I'm still new

to that barracks.

Don't carry a lot of weight

with the men yet.

You've got bars

on your shoulder, Lieutenant.

That ought to be weight enough.

Be done. Come on.

Tastes like chicken, right?

No, you've got maggots.

It's protein. Eat.

-You called?

-Yeah.

What do you got?

Going to have to make

some room in here, fellas.

Come on in, men.

We got 2 more guests.

Second Lieutenants

Lamar Archer and Lincoln Scott.

You've got to be kidding, sir.

They're gonna live here?

Two officers just

entered the barracks.

Where's your salute?

What's the big idea, sir?

I mean, we're all

full up in here.

Not anymore.

-Croutch, Krasner.

-Yes, sir.

You've been reassigned.

Barracks 28.

The Colonel wants you

situated before lockdown.

What were you flying?

P-51 bomber escorts.

Must be a shitload

of dead bomber crews...

scattered across Europe.

You see these bars,

Sergeant?

A pair of bars

don't make you fit to share...

the same roof

with white folks, boy.

Bedford!

That's Lieutenant, boy.

You got that?

Call yourself

whatever you want.

You're still just

a n*gg*r to me.

I didn't quite catch that,

Sergeant.

-What was that?

-All right!

-That's enough!

-Just let it go.

Set, go!

Over--Over here!

Nice. Very nice!

Uh-oh! Deadline.

Lieutenant!

Mind grabbing that, boy?

What are you doing?

Nice one, sir!

Cookie, hey!

More bread.

More bread.

Das ist verboten!

Das ist verboten, Bedford!

Bon appetit!

Shit!

Nobody moves!

How bad, Sergeant?

Yeah, it's just a nick.

I'll be fine.

-You all right?

-Yeah.

f*ck them !

-Go get that hand looked at.

-Yes, sir.

Hey, Bed.

Cigarettes?

You're a regular bank, Vic.

How's the hand?

Is that really what you

came over here to ask me?

No. Major Clary told me

that you went to see him...

to lodge a complaint about

Lieutenants Archer and Scott.

I'm sure he'll take it up with

Eisenhower first chance he gets.

They don't belong here.

Nobody belongs here.

But this is where

the colonel put them.

Yeah. I bet you wish the colonel

would have given you...

that open bunk

in the officers' barracks...

right about now, Lieutenant.

I mean, this is hardly

the Waldorf.

Ain't that right?

We're not going

to have a problem...

about this, Sergeant,

understood?

What did you do before the w*r

for a living?

I was in law school.

Second year.

Harvard?

Yale.

-Meet many coloreds up there?

-A few.

Yeah, well,

I dealt with their kind.

Two years I was

on the police force...

in East St. Louis,

and I know what they are.

So let's not pretend like

we're f*cking neighbors.

You finished, Sergeant?

No, I'm not finished.

Never did settle on a price,

did we...

for them boots and socks?

I mean, might be as cold as

the North Pole around here...

but that don't make me

Santa Claus.

What do you want?

I'll take your watch.

This was a gift from my father.

I bet your daddy

can afford you another one.

Is this going to buy me

a little civility, Sergeant?

Tons.

Not much of a picture, is it?

Well, we do feel

a little misled, sir.

Guard told us

they'd be showing...

the life and time

of Jesse Owens.

You know, you men can sit

up front with everyone else.

We're fine, sir.

Nobody's going to bother you.

I said we're fine, sir.

That was nice, C.W.

That was 18 inches.

Ah, come on, Joe.

It was 2 feet, at least.

Hey, either way,

my record still stands.

Cut it out, you guys.

Up, up, up.

Everybody.

Out of the way.

-Out!

-Out of the bunks.

Attention.

Attention near the bunks.

Now.

Who is the ranking man in here?

Lieutenant Thomas Hart.

One of your men was out on the

compound tonight, Lieutenant.

He was spotted

on the East field...

removing a spike from

one of the billet tents.

Your men are aware of

this camp's policy...

concerning the possession

and concealment of weapons...

are they not?

Major, no one has

left this barracks.

Whoa, wait a minute.

What the hell--

Quiet.

-But this is a plant.

-Quiet.

-Somebody put that--

-Quiet.

You bastard, I heard you go out.

I should have seen this coming.

Major, where are

you taking this man?

Examples must be made,

Lieutenant.

We take the safety of

our men very seriously.

Major, where are you all

taking him?

What did he do?

I'll k*ll you.

I'll f*cking k*ll you, Bedford.

You put that spike--

Watch your mouth, n*gg*r.

You put that spike there.

Get off of me.

-Lincoln, look at me.

-Get off of me.

Can I let you go, Lincoln?

It's a minor offense, Colonel.

This man deserved 15 days

in the cooler, not execution.

He attempted to escape.

Bullshit.

You dragged him out of his

barracks barely clothed.

Your men lined him up

and shot him.

This man wasn't trying

to escape...

any more than those Russians

you hung the other day.

Is he a dog?

A lesser race?

There's a word you

Americans use, as I remember.

But of course, your country

doesn't make such distinctions.

And neither do you, I'm sure.

He was an officer...

a lieutenant in

the Army Air Corps.

Yeah. That's why you were

so eager...

to welcome him and the other one

into your barracks.

Look it up, Colonel.

We have every right

to question a man...

for concealment of

a dangerous w*apon.

This man had rights, too.

The Geneva Convention...

specifically forbids

summary executions.

Take a look around you, Colonel.

This is not Geneva.

Where are you going?

To check on my men.

You're welcome to do so,

of course.

In the meantime, I'll be looking

in on your barracks...

to listen to what's on

the B.B.C. this evening.

Now go see your men, Colonel.

Good night.

Not to love the Fuhrer

is a great disgrace

so we heil, heil

right in the Fuhrer's face

Is we not the super friend?

Aryan pure supermen?

Ja, we is der supermen

Super-duper supermen

Is this n*zi land

Let's go.

How's Scott holding up?

It's hard to tell.

He isn't saying much.

He was asking about the body.

And there's some personal

effects--dog tags.

Come on, boys.

Take that, you bastard.

Careful, Bedford.

That's a n*gg*r

you're rooting for.

Tail's painted red...

means he's 99th,

right out of Tuskegee, boy.

Come on, let's get him out!

Get them out of there.

Get him to the doc, now.

Put this out. Come on!

More buckets, more buckets.

Quickly, come on.

Come on!

-Move around this corner.

-Yes, sir.

Do you know where

I wish I'd never been?

Where's that?

The g*dd*mn Waldorf.

It's not personal.

He just can't stand

being lied to.

-I never lied to him.

-Go on.

You hung yourself the minute

he debriefed you.

That guy Lutz

they threw on you...

he was a level 1 interrogator.

McNamara had him, too.

When a guy won't talk, they just

keep kicking him up the ladder.

Level 2, level 3.

It takes weeks.

He was in there for a month.

The only guy you saw was Lutz...

and he spit you out of there

in 3 days.

All I gave them was name,

rank, and serial number.

See, the thing about the colonel

is he's not like you and me.

He's West Point,

fourth generation.

He was raised on all this.

The crap like this...

catching a junior officer

in an obvious lie...

all it does is remind him

of how far away he is...

from the real w*r...

the one he's supposed

to be fighting.

You see?

Lieutenant Lincoln.

Should have sold some tickets

for this one.

Two of your men dead

in 2 days, Colonel.

It seems you've lost control

of your company.

Will Lieutenant Scott be granted

the right to stand trial...

and face this charge?

Major Fussel saw him

standing over the body.

I would say he's had his trial.

Any prisoner accused of a crime

against another prisoner...

has a right to a trial.

And if the boy

were being held in Alabama...

there wouldn't be

any trial at all.

Is this not so?

Yeah, maybe you're

right, Colonel.

Maybe we should

just forget the trial.

Let's just drag him

out of the barracks...

and sh**t 2 holes

in his chest...

like you do with

Lieutenant Archer.

A trial.

A court-martial.

Like in your American movies?

Yes?

Yeah, something like that.

That should be fun.

Yeah.

All right, Colonel.

You may conduct it...

in your theater here.

Colonel, my men are in

this theater every day.

With your permission...

we'd like to erect

a billet tent...

to house the proceedings.

No.

Your theater

will do quite nicely.

You have until

the end of the week...

to conduct your trial.

It's a capital charge,

Colonel.

The trial will take

more than a few days.

One thousand more American

prisoners from the Ardennes...

will be arriving

over the weekend.

I am putting them

in your theater.

Colonel, I just

explained to you--

Colonel...

Saturday, your theater is mine.

Wait. Colonel!

This is a m*rder site.

I beg your pardon,

Lieutenant.

I said

this is a m*rder site.

The body and

everything around it...

are now evidence.

This area cannot

be disturbed...

until everything

is photographed.

Of course.

I'm appointing you counsel

for Lieutenant Scott.

Sir, I'm not a lawyer.

You sounded like one

a minute ago.

I could be

a material witness.

I mean, I heard

the lieutenant going out.

The lieutenant

needs our help.

I've appointed you counsel.

Understood?

Yes, sir.

Dismissed, Lieutenant.

Sir.

And this guy

that's prosecuting me...

this Captain Sisk...

is he a real lawyer?

Yes.

That sounds about right.

I think we have to paint

this thing as a fight, Scott.

That's all.

It was a fight

that got a little out of hand.

You're supposed to ask me

if I did it, first.

Look, I came here

to k*ll Nazis.

If it was some crackers

that I wanted to k*ll...

I could have stayed in Macon.

Major Fussel ID'd you

standing over the body.

Fussel is a n*zi!

No. Fussel is a witness...

and he's enough to hang you.

Look, all I'm saying

is if it was a fight...

that got a little

out of hand...

then it's not m*rder.

It's manslaughter.

Do you understand that?

Man, oh, man.

Can I fire you?

Oh, look, Scott,

I'm just trying--

If it's a colored guy

on trial...

and it's a white man

who's been m*rder*d...

there's no such thing

as manslaughter.

Don't you know that?

Or is that something

that they teach you...

in the third year

of law school?

What do you expect

from me, anyway?

A ''Hey, yes, sir, boss.''

Or ''Why, thank you, boss.

You're mighty kind.''

Is that the way

a railroaded colored man acts...

where you're from?

Nobody's railroading you, Scott.

Then how come

the only real lawyer...

is the guy

that's prosecuting me...

and I'm stuck with you

defending me?

That's how the Colonel

wanted it.

Yeah, but I ain't

being railroaded.

I'll meet you

back at the barracks.

Yes, sir.

Well, Lieutenant?

I'm gonna need

a few things, sir.

Who has Bedford's

personal effects?

We do.

I'll need to see them...

and the photographs

that were taken of the scene...

and of course, his body.

What did Scott tell you?

Sir?

You were with him all day.

What did he tell you?

I'm sorry, sir.

I can't reveal that.

Sure you can.

Attorney-client privilege, sir.

Only an attorney

has attorney-client privilege.

I need to be briefed

on everything...

that Scott intends

to testify to.

Sir, you're going to be

President of the court-martial.

How can I possibly

discuss our case with you?

Are you suggesting...

that I would betray

Lieutenant Scott?

That I would share

details of his case...

with the prosecution?

No, sir.

Scott followed Bedford out

through the night latrine.

If he testifies to that fact...

every German in this camp

will know how we get in...

and out of the barracks

after dark...

and every man in this camp

would be compromised...

because of that.

Are you following this,

Lieutenant?

-Yes, sir.

-Good.

Now, Scott will testify

that he went out...

through a hole

beneath the stove...

in the barracks.

And you will make certain

that he is clear on that.

Do we understand each other,

Lieutenant?

We do, sir.

Dismissed.

Permission to speak, sir.

Speak freely.

Scott thinks this is all

just for show.

He thinks you passed sentence...

as soon as the body

hit the ground.

Is he right?

Bedford's footlocker

is in my barracks.

I'll make sure you get it.

Not much to look at, is he?

Did you know him?

No.

Not personally.

But my guards certainly

seemed to.

These are for you.

Thank you.

How well?

Your guards,

you said they knew him.

How well?

Well, you'll have to ask them

about that.

This is yours, too.

We found it on his wrist.

But with the inscription...

and those new boots

on your feet...

I made the assumption.

It's a little hard

to imagine, Colonel...

your guards

sitting for an interview.

I can arrange it.

I can arrange

anything you like.

It seems only fair...

what with your colonel

throwing you to the wolves.

I'm not sure I follow you.

Really?

Yale isn't in the habit

of accepting half-wits.

At least it wasn't

when I was studying there.

The oldest member

of the class of '28.

My fellow students voted me

hardest worker.

But we can swap stories

some other time, can't we?

Right now we've got a trial

to prepare for.

It's a sincere offer,

Lieutenant.

Anything I can do to help...

Truly.

And exactly where were you,

Major Fussel...

on the night in question?

I was walking the area

behind this theater...

and the Australian compound.

At about what time?

Maybe about 1:00

in the morning.

And can you tell the court

what you saw?

The schwarz Lieutenant Scott

was kneeling over the body.

It looked to me like he was

checking that the man was dead.

I blew my whistle,

and he started to run.

And what did you do next?

I would have shot,

but it was dark.

And so was he.

Major Fussel, how well

did you know Sergeant Bedford?

A little, I think.

You traded with him regularly.

Traded?

Bartered.

Cigarettes for a pair of boots.

Chocolate for some spare parts.

No. I never did this.

A kriegie trading

with a German soldier?

I never saw it.

Am I allowed to repeat what

he actually said to Captain?

You may, Private.

Lieutenant Scott said,

''I'll k*ll you.

''I'll f*cking k*ll you,

Bedford.''

Corporal, have you ever

heard any other man...

thr*aten a fellow soldier

during your time in the army?

''Better shape up

or I'll k*ll you.''

''I'll k*ll you if you touch

my cigarettes again.''

-That sort of thing?

-Yes, sir.

I'll bet you've even made such

a threat yourself once or twice.

I suppose so.

Corporal, did you ever

actually k*ll any of the men...

you threatened in this manner?

No, sir.

But I'm not colored.

I can control myself.

So, you, too,

had heard the threats...

made by the accused

against Sergeant Bedford?

Your Honor, this being the

fourth prosecution witness...

called to testify

in this matter...

if the defense will stipulate

that the accused...

did indeed thr*aten the life

of Sergeant Bedford...

could we dispense

with any further testimony...

-to his having done so?

-Your Honor...

Sergeant Webb is being called

as an eyewitness...

to the crime itself.

He's what?

Is that right, Sergeant?

Yes, sir.

-Sir, that's a lie.

-Your Honor...

the sergeant will testify that

on the night of the m*rder...

he watched through a window

in barracks 27...

as Lieutenant Scott

accosted Sergeant Bedford...

outside the theater

and broke his neck.

Your Honor,

he did no such thing.

I was standing

right beside Sergeant Webb...

at the exact time

of the m*rder.

-He saw nothing of the sort.

-The hell I didn't.

You don't know what I saw.

Sir, I request that this court

instruct this witness

as to the consequences of

perjuring himself in a court--

He put his hand on the Bible...

and swore to tell the truth,

Lieutenant.

-That's good enough for me.

-Objection, Your Honor.

We've had no prior notice

of his testimony.

-Sit down, Lieutenant.

-Your Honor, his bias alone--

Lieutenant!

Sit down, please.

I'll catch up.

I gotta go make some trades

in barracks 18.

See if you

can get me some smokes.

Webb...

You're a lying sack of shit,

you know that?

Yeah, and maybe you ought

to mind your own business.

This doesn't concern you, West.

-Hey, Lieutenant.

-Or you. Any of you.

What do you know, Joe?

George S. Patton just showed up.

Return to your barracks,

Corporal.

Take your 2 friends with you.

So, what is it, Webb?

Up there today.

You think you owe it to Vic?

Why are you so bent about

that flying bellhop anyway?

He's a soldier.

Vic Bedford was a soldier.

He fought.

He had courage.

You wouldn't know too much about

that, would you, Lieutenant?

You lied in there today.

You didn't see what happened

any more than I did.

I didn't have to.

I know.

Not good enough.

It's good enough for McNamara.

Sorry about what happened

in there today, Lincoln.

I didn't see it coming.

You're saying that's

the first time...

you seen a man lie

through his teeth...

holding his hand on a bible?

I was writing a letter

to my father.

Figured I should tell him first.

He was part of

the 369th Infantry...

in the last w*r,

the old 15th.

They was the first n*gro troops

to go into action in France.

Did your father serve?

My father

was in headquarters.

He had an 8

on his shoulder, too.

His father made sure of it.

That's how we do things

in our family.

That's a shame.

Got your testimony to prepare.

Yeah.

Lieutenant.

How are you?

Not too well, I imagine.

Come on up.

That was quite a beating

you took today.

It's warm inside.

You've read Mark Twain?

It's wonderful.

Colonel, I have witnesses

to prepare for.

Yes. I know.

It's why I wanted to see you.

We keep a library of all

American military manuals.

I thought this one might be

of particular use to you.

I can't accept this, Colonel.

We have a policy

about fraternizing...

Lieutenant,

without this, your client...

will face the firing squad.

Would that be better?

Your son?

Yes.

Where's he fighting?

He is not anymore.

The Russian front.

Horrible place.

I'm sorry.

I k*lled my share of English

and French, I suppose...

in the first w*r.

They had fathers, too.

It's verboten, you know.

n*gro jazz.

These might be the only copies

of their kind...

in the entire Reich.

But I'm quite fond of them.

Nice to read by, anyway.

Takes a man right back.

Take a seat.

Thank you for your time,

Colonel.

Lieutenant...

Enjoy the manual.

Come to order, gentlemen.

Captain Sisk,

is the prosecution...

prepared to call

its next witness?

We are, Your Honor.

Begging the court's pardon, sir.

Yes, Lieutenant?

Before we continue,

Your Honor...

it's been brought to

my attention that the court...

may have overlooked a few

procedural matters yesterday.

I'm referring to the ''U.S. Army

Manual for Courts-Martial''...

chapter 12, sections 57, 58.

Make your point.

According to these sections,

Your Honor...

the court was obliged yesterday

to ask the accused...

if he wished to challenge

any members of the court...

for peremptory disqualification

before any pleas were entered.

A little late in the game

for that, isn't it, Lieutenant?

Nevertheless, it is a right...

specifically granted

to the defendant.

Very well.

Does the accused

wish to challenge...

any member of the court now?

We do, Your Honor.

You, sir.

Request denied.

Proceed, Captain Sisk.

Sir, according to chapter 12,

section 58d...

defense is allowed

1 peremptory challenge...

of the board,

and this challenge...

is not subject to any ruling

by the court itself.

Request denied, Lieutenant.

Then the court must address

section 58e...

which states the defense

may disqualify...

a member of the board

for cause...

if that member

has displayed a bias...

toward the accused or his case.

This court has shown no bias

in this case, Lieutenant.

Your Honor,

the court has demonstrated...

in ex parte conversations

before the commencement...

of this hearing a distinct

prejudice against the accused...

his case, and his counsel, sir.

Very well.

We'll take a short recess

to consider the matter.

-Lieutenant Hart.

-Sir?

Can I see you outside

for a moment, please?

Sir?

Listen to me,

you pampered little shit.

I will not be laughed at.

Not by him.

Sir, I'm just trying

to protect my client.

Your client's about to lose

his lawyer, Lieutenant.

Sir?

Article 32: contempt of court.

Article 70: intentional delay.

I know the book, too.

Forwards and backwards.

Then you must know, sir, that--

Shut up and listen to me,

Lieutenant.

You will not accept anything

from that commandant again.

Is that clear?

You will not allow him

to participate...

in these proceedings,

is that clear?

You will never set foot

in his office again...

without my permission.

We understand each other?

...and propaganda reported

by them...

and by the Germans

over Strasbourg.

One minute you can hear

Hitler himself announcing...

that he will be in Strasbourg

by January the 30th...

the anniversary of the Nazis

coming to power in Germany.

The next, the Nazis are claiming

that 2 new divisions...

are advancing on Strasbourg...

and that the Americans are

in full flight from Alsace.

The closer they get,

the more violent they become.

The n*zi menace are offering

their promises.

But today...

Come in. Have a seat.

We've checked German...

Have a drink.

Sure.

Maybe you can help me

decipher some of this code...

coming through

the BBC tonight, yeah?

I don't think you need

my help, Colonel.

Seems pretty clear

what they're saying.

It would seem so.

Or perhaps

it's all propaganda.

How about that?

Strange thing about w*r wounds.

The older you grow, the less

proud you become of them.

Got another one of these

around here somewhere?

Of course.

Good. Why don't you and I take

a walk out on your compound...

and have ourselves

an old-fashioned duel?

That would be fitting,

wouldn't it?

But surely you can think

of a more clever way...

out of this camp

than that, yes?

You think the w*r will wait

for you, is that it, Colonel?

It won't, you know.

They never do.

You're drunk.

Yeah.

But I'm seeing things

very clearly.

You know, sometimes I think

your Lieutenant Scott...

might have been better off

in Alabama.

Lynchings are over in minutes.

The kind of justice he's

suffering here is far crueler.

Is that why you gave

Lieutenant Hart the manual?

I was merely

trying to help the lad.

He's got enough

to worry about...

without providing you

with amusement.

Yes.

He's got you to worry about,

hasn't he?

Stay out of our business.

Forgive me, Colonel,

but you're hardly...

in a position

to hand out orders.

Especially to me.

For now.

Unless, of course,

you think that's just...

the sound of propaganda

falling out there.

Well, the idea was

to follow Bedford...

and catch him

on the compound.

I wanted to drag him back

under the barracks...

and put his face in the mud.

Well, by the time

I got to him...

he was already dead

behind the theater...

neck had been snapped.

That's when everything blew up.

Dogs, you know, hands up,

and that was that.

Lieutenant,

did you apply anything...

to your face or hands

before going out that night?

Shoe polish? Soot?

No.

Defense exhibit 1, Your Honor.

Photos of the deceased taken

in the camp morgue.

The court will note

black smudges...

on Bedford's right cheek

and jaw.

Your Honor, what is

the relevance of this?

To demonstrate to the court...

that whoever k*lled

Vic Bedford was white.

I'd like to ask

the court's permission...

to conduct a demonstration,

Your Honor.

I'd also ask the trial judge

advocate to rise, if he would.

Proceed.

Based on Bedford's wounds

and the fact that...

nobody reported hearing him

cry for help that night...

we have to assume

that he was either...

friendly with his assailant...

or that whoever k*lled him

did so from behind...

the positioning being

something like this.

Captain, if you wouldn't mind

grabbing at me...

at my face

to get me to stop.

Now, of course, the k*ller

had the benefits...

of leverage and surprise,

so the neck was snapped...

and Bedford fell,

and the smudge went with him.

It was also on his fingers.

Captain?

At this time,

I would like the court...

to note the following

for the record:

whoever k*lled Vic Bedford...

had such a substance on his face

on the night of the m*rder...

which raises 2 questions.

First, what call

would Lincoln Scott have...

for darkening his face?

To look more black?

Second, if he had done so,

when did he take it off?

Your Honor, you stood

face to face with him...

immediately

after his capture.

His face was clean.

I think it's fair to conclude...

that whoever k*lled Vic Bedford

was not only white...

but was waiting

behind this theater...

face blackened to avoid

detection by the guards.

Nothing further, Your Honor.

Lieutenant, you say that

Sergeant Bedford sneaked out...

through a loose board

beneath the barracks' stove.

Is that right?

Yes, sir.

And you took that same route

on the night in question...

after he'd gone out.

Yes, I did, sir.

What did you find down there,

Lieutenant?

Excuse me, sir?

What was down there

on the ground?

Mud, right?

You stated that it had been

your intention...

to put the victim's face

in the mud...

until he begged you to stop...

so there was mud down there,

isn't that right, Lieutenant?

I suppose so.

And a fair amount of soot

from the stove itself.

So it's possible

that Sergeant Bedford...

having descended through

a hole lined with soot...

and then having crawled

facedown...

beneath the barracks

wet with mud...

might have emerged with mud

and soot on his face.

Nothing further, Your Honor.

Thank you, Captain Sisk.

Will you step down, Lieutenant?

Lieutenant Scott?

You know how hard they tried...

to wash us out of flight

school--the colored flyers?

Your testimony's been entered,

Lieutenant.

You can step down.

It was test after test.

I mean, anything they

could come up with to turn us...

into the cooks or the drivers

or the shit shovelers.

Your Honor,

this is highly unnecessary.

-The witness has already--

-But I refused to wash out.

So did Archer.

I mean, come hell or high water.

We hit the books.

We were just determined...

that we were not going to spend

the w*r being some n*gg*r*s.

That's enough, Lieutenant.

You will take your seat.

With all due respect, sir...

I would like to exercise

my right and address this court.

Now, I've been sitting down

ever since I got here.

And you know, I should have

stood up and said something...

the moment that you threw us in

with the enlisted men...

instead of quartering us

properly as officers.

But it's OK.

You see, colored men

expect to have to jump...

through a few hoops

in this man's army.

Archer knew that.

We all did.

There's a camp right outside

of Macon, where I'm from, and...

there the army sends

the German POWs...

puts them to work

picking cotton.

But what's strange is

every once in a while...

we'd see them

walking through town...

going to movies,

eating in diners...

but if I wanted to go

to those same movies...

I had to sit way off

in the balcony.

And those diners were closed

to me even in uniform.

But German POWs were allowed

to sit there and eat.

And this must have happened...

to at least half the guys

at Tuskegee.

But the thing is...

we just kept telling ourselves

that no matter what...

as long as we did our jobs,

it'd all be worth it...

because hey, the w*r would end,

we could go home...

and be free to walk down

any street in America...

with our heads held high as men.

So that's what we did.

We did our jobs.

We served our country, sir,

Archer and I.

And what you

let happen to him...

what you allowed to happen

to him...

was appalling.

And so is this.

At ease, Lieutenant.

How are they treating you?

No worse than the men

in my barracks, sir.

I can probably find you

another blanket.

No. I'm fine.

Good night.

New order, gentlemen.

Before you proceed, Your Honor,

the defense hasn't rested yet.

Still like to call

one last witness.

Defense calls

Oberst Werner Visser.

This some kind of joke,

Lieutenant?

He's material to our case, sir.

Unless, of course,

the colonel refuses to testify.

He does not.

Colonel, could you tell us...

the nature of your relationship

with Vic Bedford?

I'll be happy to.

I didn't have one.

And what about your guards,

Colonel?

Major Fussel, for instance?

Were you aware of his dealings

with Vic Bedford...

at night after lockdown?

That would be impossible

in this camp, Lieutenant.

Policy forbids.

Do you remember

the conversation we had...

in the camp morgue 4 days ago?

Vaguely.

I asked you

if you knew Vic Bedford...

and you said, ''No, but my guards

certainly seem to.''

Perhaps.

So, in your words...

no guard ever traded with

Vic Bedford...

and yet he was able to acquire

winter boots...

thick socks, fresh milk,

and parts for a hidden radio.

Isn't that a fact?

Lieutenant, I'm sitting here as

a gesture of military courtesy.

If it is your intention

to paint me as a liar--

No, Colonel.

It is my intention

to establish...

that Vic Bedford built up

enough of a rapport...

with your majors Wirtz

and Fussel...

to engage in the framing of

Lamar Archer...

conspiring with them

in the tent spike incident...

which resulted in

Archer's death.

Lieutenant Archer was shot

while attempting escape.

No, Colonel.

Lieutenant Archer was ex*cuted

in return for information.

Archer dies.

Five minutes later...

Colonel Visser and Major Wirtz

enter Barracks 22...

and destroy a hidden radio...

that they had been trying

to locate for months.

Can you tell the court anything

about these items, sir?

Identification papers,

some currency.

What of them?

Perfect German-made I.D. papers

and reichsmarks.

Two thousand of them.

More than enough cash to make it

through the country.

Vic Bedford kept those

in a stash beside his bunk.

Again, can you tell the court...

the nature of your relationship

with Vic Bedford?

I did not have one, Lieutenant.

Do you have any idea...

how he may have gotten

these items, sir?

If they didn't come from you...

and if he never had any dealings

with your guards...

the fact is, Colonel...

Vic Bedford traded with you

and your men regularly.

Objection, Your Honor!

As soon as he came up dry

on you, you ordered his m*rder.

Isn't that right, Colonel?

Lieutenant Hart...

I thought you tried

marvelously...

to establish that the k*ller had

blackened his face with soot.

Now, if any of my guards...

or even I wanted to k*ll

one of my prisoners--

Vic Bedford in this case--

we would hardly need to blacken

our faces to do it.

Would we?

Move. In the corner, Webb.

Captain.

You see?

German uniforms, expl*sives.

Yes, Captain, I see.

The trial's got nothing to do

with Lincoln Scott, does it?

No.

It's the way it had to go.

We're out of time, Hart.

We lose this theater tomorrow.

Uh-huh, and I'm supposed to keep

Visser and his men distracted...

while half the camp goes out.

Is that it, Captain?

I'm asking

the wrong f*cking guy.

I've just seen the tunnel,

Colonel.

In here, Lieutenant.

Everything in this place

is a lie.

Everything.

Jesus Christ.

First he told the Germans

about the radio.

It was only a matter of time...

before he told them about

the tunnel.

You k*lled Bedford.

That's right.

If you f*ck with this operation

in any way, I'll k*ll you, too.

You will sit in

that courtroom...

as Captain Sisk drags out

these proceedings.

Make whatever summation

you like, but that's it.

When that board breaks

to deliberate,

35 men go under the wire.

And Lincoln Scott will be dead.

That's w*r, Lieutenant.

The w*r's at the front, Colonel.

We're not even in it anymore.

Speak for yourself!

You know those Russians...

they march in and out of here

every day?

-You know where they go?

-Munitions plant.

The army thinks

it's a g*dd*mn shoe factory.

Look...

I don't want to see Scott dead

any more than you do.

But if one man

has to be sacrificed...

to take out that target...

then that's the way

it has to be.

-I agree completely, sir.

-Good.

But I think that one man

should be you.

And don't worry.

I'll play my part.

But at the end of the trial...

you're going to tap

your little gavel.

You're going to stand up...

and you're going to confess to

the m*rder.

Your duty demands that.

f*ck you, Hart.

What the f*ck would you know

about duty?

I'll see you in court, sir.

I got a better question.

What was in that g*dd*mn soup

last night?

I got 20 men

with food poisoning.

Colonel? Whoa! Colonel!

You're in no shape

for the trial, sir.

I'm fine. Really, I'm fine.

Here we go.

We'll convene as scheduled

after the appell.

Square them up.

Prisoners, attention!

New order, gentlemen.

Captain Sisk...

is the prosecution ready

to present its summation?

We are, Your Honor.

Very well.

I'm sorry, gentlemen.

The court needs a 5-minute

recess before summations.

Colonel. Colonel!

Colonel? Colonel!

Let's get him back

to the barracks.

Get his coat.

Get some rest, sir.

All right, come on.

Get back to the barracks.

We need an extension, Colonel.

He's very ill.

The agreement was

the end of the week.

It's a matter of courtesy,

Colonel.

The agreement was today!

I need to talk to you.

Are you any good at poker,

Lincoln?

There's an escape going to take

place later on this afternoon.

Escape? How's that?

Down a tunnel through

that burned theater wing.

while the jury's

in deliberation.

So what you mean?

This whole thing's been a joke?

Yes.

But Archer and Bedford

are dead for real.

Is that part

of this big joke, too?

Look, we haven't got time now.

During deliberations you're

going out under the wire...

with 35 other men.

Is McNamara, too?

Yeah, McNamara, too.

It's funny.

I was just writing my son...

and in the letter I was

trying to explain to him...

what the word honor means.

It would be a hell of a thing,

wouldn't it...

to find out that your father

helped 35 men...

escape from a place

like this, wouldn't it?

You're going out, too, Lincoln.

You got that?

I can't do that, Tommy.

Suppose the board comes back...

and there's nobody sitting in

the defendant's chair anymore.

It doesn't matter.

You'll already be out.

Then the search begins...

and all those men,

they won't have a chance.

Lincoln, if you stay,

you'll be convicted.

If I stay, those men

are gonna have a chance.

If I stay, those men

are gonna have a chance.

And you'll be ex*cuted.

Lincoln, listen to me, please.

Everything's fine, Tommy.

Everything's really OK...

just as long as he knows

what happened here.

As long as there's

somebody to tell him.

How far could I get anyway?

A colored man running through

the German countryside?

It'd be target practice.

It started with a noble idea.

Letting colored men

join the fight.

But no one in the Air Corps ever

considered what might happen...

if one of those Tuskegee men

ever got shot down.

No one ever asked

what would happen...

if a colored officer

was suddenly captured...

and sent to a stalag

like this one.

But Lincoln Scott was shot down

and he was sent to a stalag...

and once here,

he wasn't just thrown in...

amongst white enlisted men,

he was quartered with them.

Men like Staff Sergeant

Vic Bedford.

Bedford, the real Bedford,

was a man unknown to us.

Hateful, vengeful, with

a bigotry that ran bone-deep.

A man who simply couldn't

stomach the thought...

of sharing a roof

with colored officers.

So he badgered Scott,

baited him.

Even refused

to respect Scott's rank.

Then conspired to k*ll the only

friend Scott had in this camp.

That's why Scott

followed Bedford out...

the night in question...

crept up behind him

and snapped his neck.

Members of the board,

we take no pleasure...

in prosecuting

Lieutenant Scott...

but a capital charge requires...

that we put aside

our passions and sympathies...

wedding ourselves

solely to the truth.

It is this.

Lieutenant Scott

was positively...

and unimpeachably identified

at the scene of the crime.

He had motive,

he had opportunity...

and he had an animus

for the victim...

which was confirmed

even by his own testimony.

Lincoln Scott is an officer,

he is a soldier...

but he is also a m*rder*r.

There's a tenet that was

drummed into all of us...

from our first day in basic.

Sometimes 1 man

must be sacrificed...

for the good

of the men around him.

Someone has to be first

to hit the beach...

or to jump on a grenade

or to draw enemy fire...

so coordinates can be drawn

for mortar teams.

Vic Bedford

learned that tenet, too...

except Vic got it backwards.

Vic thought that sometimes

a few hundred...

must be sacrificed

for the good of 1.

Him. For Vic.

The watchword was expediency.

One day he'd trade

with our captors...

to get hard-to-find parts

for a radio...

earning him the loyalty

of our commanding officer...

and his staff.

Then Vic would tell the Germans

where to find that radio...

Go.

in exchange for the m*rder

of Lamar Archer.

The army has its share

of cowards...

and Vic Bedford was one of them.

It also has heroes...

soldiers like Lincoln Scott.

Lincoln Scott who wanted nothing

more than to serve his country.

And serve he did.

Nine downed German fighters,

30 missions...

until one of those missions

landed him here, Stalag 6A...

where Vic Bedford and the sad

sacks Bedford called friends...

were lying in wait.

Scott was a target

from the second he got here.

He suffered insults, threats,

but he did not retaliate.

He did not k*ll Vic Bedford.

No.

Someone beat him to it.

It could've been

any number of people.

The guard who thought

that Bedford had cheated him.

A fellow kriegie who discovered

Bedford's treachery.

Even one of our

ranking officers...

as punishment for

ratting out that radio.

So this, then, is our victim?

A bigot. A traitor. A rat.

Enemy of every kriegie in camp.

The question is, who hated him

enough to k*ll him?

Colonel.

I did.

Wait a minute.

What are you saying?

I k*lled Vic Bedford, sir.

Come on, Colonel. Here.

I want every man in the compound

present...

for the execution

of Lieutenant Hart.

Very brave.

Very brave, indeed.

Colonel, this man has rights.

Not anymore.

This court still has to

deliberate the matter.

I am the court now!

Now. Get him up.

Get him up. Get him up.

Get out.

I want every man...

who participated

in the court-martial...

removed from the line.

Line them up.

Line them up. Now.

These men knew nothing, Colonel.

Line them up!

You will be the first.

These men knew nothing.

You will be the first!

Colonel, they knew nothing!

So, your men are saboteurs

as well?

No, Colonel,

they're just soldiers.

They were following my orders.

I assume complete

responsibility.

That's very noble of you.

Seems you've won our duel

after all, Colonel.

No.

We both lose, don't we?

Yeah.

And now you wish to

trade your life for theirs?

Yes, I do.

Very well.

We buried the Colonel in

a marked grave behind the camp.

Three months later,

the German army surrendered.

Our stalag was liberated.

The w*r was over.

We returned home to America,

to our families.

Lincoln Scott got the chance...

to explain the word honor

to his son.

Honor and courage,

duty, sacrifice.

Lincoln's son came

to understand those words...

and so have I.