She Wore a Yellow Ribbon

# Round her neck she wore a yellow ribbon

# She wore it in the winter and the merry month of May

# Whe-en I asked her why the yellow ribbon...

# She said 'tis for my lover who is in the Cavalry

# Cavalry! Cavalry!

# She said it's for my lover who is in the Cavalry

# Cavalry! Cavalry!

# She said it's for my lover in the US Cavalry

# I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill

# And o'er the moor and valley

# Such heavy thoughts my heart do fill

# Since parting with my Sally

# I seek no more the fine and gay For each does but remind me

# How swift the hours did pass away With the girl I left behind me. #

NARRATOR: 'Custer is dead, and around the bloody guidon of the 7th Cavalry

'lie 212 officers and men.

'The Sioux and Cheyenne are on the warpath.

'News of the Custer massacre is flashed across the long, lonely miles to the Southwest...

'by stagecoach - to the hundred settlements and the thousand farms

'under threat of an Indian uprising.

'Pony Express riders know that one more such defeat,

'and it would be 100 years before another wagon train dared to cross the Plains.

'From the Canadian border to the Rio Bravo,

'ten thousand Indians... Kiowa...Comanche...Arapahoe... Sioux and Apache,

'under Sitting Bull, Crazy Horse, Gall and Crow King,

'are uniting in a common war against the United States Cavalry.'

Yo-ho!

Come on.

Hey, that's Major Cheadle, the Paymaster, ain't it?

Yeah. Looks like we ain't gonna get paid for another three months.

'And wherever the flag rises over some lonely Army Post,

'there may be one man... one Captain...fated to wield...

'the sword of destiny.'

Good morning, sir. Five forty-two, sir.

-Five forty-one!

-And a lovely day it is, sir. Colder than blazes.

Mrs Jameson's had her baby, sir. The stage-coach to Sudro's Wells has been discontinued.

And a dispatch from Paradise River - Private MacKenzie got himself shot.

A boy or a girl?

Er...a little Trooper, sir.

-When does the stage-coach stop running?

-It's stopped.

-MacKenzie...is he dead?

-Yes, sir.

Hmm. A good man, MacKenzie. He'd have made Corporal in five or six years.

You've got a breath on you like a hot mince-pie.

-Aw, you know I took the pledge after Chapultepec...

-And Bull Run AND Gettysburg...

-Aw, Captain, darlin'...

-Beats me where you hide the stuff.

Six more days.

Six more days, and I retire.

The Army will never be the same when we retire, sir.

The sun and the moon change, but the Army knows no seasons.

We're in our PRIME too. An abuse of taxpayers' money.

-The only tax you've paid is a whisky tax. Ready?

-Ready, sir.

-'Morning, gentlemen.

-Good morning, sir.

Well...

Carry on.

Good morning.

Yo-oh!

Mr Cohill. Inspection!

That's the Paradise River Patrol.

Yah!

Report, Sergeant!

-Gunshot wounds, sir. Dead when I found him.

-Where?

-Near Red Butte, sir.

Horses were about to give in, sir. Money box is gone, sir.

Cheadle?

What do you make of the wound, Doctor?

I'll need an hour, Major. Fetch him to hospital.

-It's not Kiowa.

-No, and it's not Comanche, nor Arapahoe either.

-Not with those colour bands.

-Hmph...Sir...

All right, Sergeant... put in your 2 cents' worth.

Sir, these yellow, white and red bands are the Southern Cheyennes.

Bannocks and Snakes use these colours.

That's true, sir. But look at the clan mark... the sign of the dog.

That's the arrow of a Southern Cheyenne dog-soldier.

-Why are they this far south, Sergeant?

-That ain't my department, sir.

Alert the Post, Sergeant. Yes, sir.

-Get some rest, Tyree.

-Thank you, sir.

The Post is closed. Sorry to spoil your outing, Miss Dandridge.

Sorry, indeed! Haven't you anything better to do than make yourself obnoxious?

Any complaints may be submitted to Major Allshard...in writing.

-Duplicate or triplicate ?!

-Flint, don't be a spoilsport.

Just because I wouldn't go with YOU. Drive on...

You touch those reins, I'll slap you in the Guardhouse!

-Under arrest, Miss Dandridge?

-Lt Cohill, sir...

-I was merely...

Attention, Mr Cohill! Please proceed, Miss Dandridge.

I don't want to make a scene, Captain. I'm sure Mr Cohill is a fine officer.

But he thinks Lt Pennell hasn't rank enough for my company.

-< Sir, if I could just...

-Your attention, Mr Pennell.

Your complaint, Miss Dandridge...?

Complaint? Oh, no complaint. I simply adore the entire Cavalry.

Our pleasure, Ma'am.

Yes, indeed.

Mr Cohill, wipe that grin off your face.

-Sir, I have denied Mr Pennell permission to leave the Post.

-Why did you wish to leave the Post?

Picnicking, sir.

Picnicking? Picnicking, Miss Dandridge? In St Louis?

No, sir. By the waterfall, but...

Never apologise, Mister. It's a sign of weakness.

-I see no reason why Mr Pennell should not go picnicking.

-Very good, sir.

Thank you, Captain.

But Mr Cohill was quite right denying YOU permission to leave under the present emergency.

So may I escort you to your quarters?

-Pass Lt Pennell, Sergeant.

-Pass Lt Pennell. >

Where are you figuring on holding your picnic, Ross?

At Delmonico's in New York, about 2 months from now...

with Olivia on my arm. Hah!

Here's the last report on George Custer's outfit.

"On the Little Big Horn, 212 dead... Headquarters expects hard and bloody winter.

"Sitting Bull preaching holy war. Take all necessary precautions."

Here's the list, Nathan. I expect you knew most of them.

George Armstrong Custer... Tom Custer... Boston Custer...

Calhoun...

Cook...

Crittendon...

Harrington...

Keogh...

Miles Keogh...

Well, Mary...

Only six more days to go and your old Nathan will be out of the Army.

Haven't decided what I'll do yet.

Somehow, I just can't picture myself on the banks of the Wabash, rockin' on a front porch.

No, I've been thinking...

Maybe push on West...

New settlements in California.

We had some sad news today, Mary.

George Custer was killed. And his whole command. Miles Keogh...

You remember Miles... happy-go-lucky Irishman.

..Who used to waltz so well with you. Yeah... I guess I was a little jealous.

Never could waltz myself.

Well, I'm takin' the troop out in the morning.

Cheyennes around. I'm to pick up the patrols and drive 'em back up north.

Probably be my last mission, Mary.

Hard to believe, isn't it?

Hard to believe.

I hope I'm not intruding, Captain?

But I've watched you come out here to your family and...

So I...so I brought you this.

Well, I appreciate this very much.

Cyclamen... A Greek word. I think it means 'rabbit's ears'.

My wife called them 'flaming arrows'. She was fond of gardening.

I'm sorry I made such a fool of myself this morning.

-You made a fool out of a couple of young lieutenants.

-Then I'm forgiven?

Forgiven.

Well, goodnight, Captain.

Goodnight, Miss.

Thank you.

She's a nice girl, Mary.

She reminds me of you.

Time, sir.

Well, old comrade, last patrol, eh?

Yeah, the last of many, sir.

-Five more.

-Three more.

-FIVE more!

-Can't you count?

-I mean 3 more weeks till I retire, sir.

Days...weeks... what's the difference? You gonna stand there all morning?

-Sorry, Captain...

-Don't apologise, it's...

-..a sign of weakness.

-Ready?

-Sir!

Good morning.

-Hochbauer!

-Good morning, sir.

-Well, once again, De Rice, eh?

-Yes, sir.

-'Morning, men.

-What's this? Hochbauer!

-Yes, sir?

-What's this?

-Orders by Major Allshard, sir.

-No wagon goes on this patrol.

-Orders, sir.

-Orders, huh?

-Yes, sir.

Oh!

Good morning, sir.

-Side-saddles, Riley?

-Side-saddles, sir.

-Yeah!

-Side-saddles? Major Allshard...

-Hold it! I know! The wagon.

A wagon full of women's junk. I can't hamper THIS patrol with a wagon.

Nathan, I'm sending my wife and her niece with you... as far as Sudro's Wells.

-They'll take the stage East from there.

-I wish to protest...

-Put it in writing.

-I intend to.

Nathan, I sat up half the night with this. I can't keep the Dandridge girl here...

-She ain't Army.

-I'll say she ain't.

-Coffee?

-No.

There is a party of Cheyenne dog-soldiers raiding this territory.

-How many 'r's in territory?

-Two!

-Oh.

Men! I want you to pay strict attention.

There's gonna be women with this column...

an' I want you men to watch them words. Watch them words!

VOICE: Watch them grammar!

Whose dog is this?

WHOSE DOG IS THIS ?

Nice dog. Irish setter. Heh!

Poor Abby. She says everyone will think she's running away.

Say, I'll be a bachelor all winter.

In conclusion, I respectfully protest the decision of my Commanding Officer,

to saddle this troop with his FEMALE relations.

One 'l'.

Signed, Nathan Brittles, and so forth...

Very good, Nathan. Give it to me, I'll file it. Hochbauer.

I know this is hard on you, Mac.

-You're gonna miss Abby.

-Nathan, you WILL take every precaution?

-Mac!

Sorry. Well, here I am - all ready.

How did he take the idea of Old Iron Pants riding with him?

-Under protest, my dear.

-Written protest, of course.

Well, as long as you're going along with us we'll...

Abby, that is the dadblastedest outfit...Quincannon's old britches?

Yes.

-Good morning, Mr Cohill.

-Good morning.

-I hope you approve of my uniform?

-Yes, indeed.

It's very lovely.

So...Ross has branded you with his yellow ribbon?

How do you know it isn't for you, Mister?

I'd be very happy if I thought it were for me. Very happy indeed.

-Good morning.

-Trooper Dandridge reporting for duty, sir.

-Well...

-Right pretty, Mr Cohill, eh?

-Yes, sir.

-A yellow ribbon, Miss Dandridge? That means a sweetheart.

-Oh?

-Who is it?

-YOU, of course, Captain.

-Ha! I'll make these young bucks jealous.

Good morning, Flint. Oh, I hope Ross notices that yellow ribbon.

-I hope you're wearing that yellow ribbon for me, Olivia.

-Who else, Ross?

BUGLER - "TAPS"

Right by twos!

Yo-oh-oh!

# Round her neck she wore a yellow ribbon

# She wore it in the winter and the merry month of May

# Whe-en I asked her why the yellow ribbon

# She said it's for my lover who is in the Cavalry.

# She said it's for my lover who is in the Cavalry.

# Cavalry! Cavalry!

# She said it's for my lover in the US Cavalry. #

Report!

-Trailed Mr Rynders' buck-board, sir. About a mile below the Painted Post.

-Painted Post, eh?

-He met two men in a wagon.

-Know who they were?

-No, sir.

What do you suppose they were doing that far south?

Well, that ain't my department.

-We'll pick 'em up on the next go round... Take a point!

-Yes, sir.

-Sergeant?

-Yes, sir.

Right through that pass.

Romantic, isn't it, Miss Dandridge? Guidons gaily fluttering... bronzed men lustily singing...

-..and bunions aching.

-Must you always be so...so vulgar, Mr Cohill?

The Cavalry doesn't go in for refinements.

Cavalry! Dismounting and walking... Might as well be in the Infantry.

We would be, if we didn't ease these mounts. Ride in the wagon.

-There are no springs on the wagons.

-The men would rather have fingerbowls.

-Very funny!

Oh, the Army! I planted 24 gardens in the first 10 years of our marriage...

We never stayed long enough to see a single bloom.

Have I your permission to ride back along the line?

-..To Mr Pennell.

-Why don't you give him a chance?

Mr Cohill! Relieve Mr Pennell with the rear guard.

Yes, sir!

-Are you enjoying your walk out?

-Oh, yes... Yes, I am.

H-A-L-T!

-Can you make it out, Sergeant?

-Looks like Arapahoes, sir.

They're moving their whole village.

Yeah.

Sergeant, God must have given you that pair of eyes.

They're Arapahoes all right. Heading the same way we are.

Now why would they be moving on Sudro's Wells, Sergeant?

I wasn't raised to make any guesses in front of Yankee Captains.

Well, I'd soon find out if... Oh, I can't risk it with those women.

-Officer's call!

-Yes, sir.

-Are they hostile Indians, Captain? Are you going to fight them?

-Rejoin the column, Miss Dandridge.

-I don't like it, Mr Cohill.

-Arapahoes, sir?

We'll turn east... Approach Sudro's Wells from Twin Forks.

-We'll lose half a day.

-The ladies may miss the Stage.

Would you rather have 'em miss their scalps?

-Sir, I...

-Oh, shut up!

Column forward! Yo-ho! >

You're relieved, Mr Cohill. I'm taking over the rear guard.

The Old Man hasn't spoken to me in 3 hours.

-You'll be lucky if the Old Man talks to you in 3 days.

-It'll be his last chance to.

-So you're still gonna resign?

-Through channels!

Look, bub, every Second Lieutenant is entitled to 3 resignations.

-You forget, BUB, that I don't have to depend on Cavalry pay.

-Oh, I forgot your silver spoon.

But I'll bet Miss Dandridge hasn't. Hup!

How'd you like to pull your blouse, Mr Cohill? I'll hold your coat.

Why don't you take your hooks out of Ross Pennell?

-You're not his guardian.

-He's a spoiled, rich kid and the Army's his only chance.

So if you can't take the Army, leave him alone.

Buffalo!

-Buffalo, Mr Cohill.

-Yes, sir.

The first time the herd has been this far north since... the summer of '68.

-You never saw a buffalo, Mr Pennell?

-No, sir.

Naw...before your time.

Sgt Quincannon, escort the ladies forward, please.

-Why, Aunt Abby, that's buffalo.

-Yes, it's buffalo.

Ay, that's a lot of buffalo. It reminds me of the old days.

When whisky was 50 cents a gallon.

Sure hanker for a taste of buffalo meat. Me too.

Beans is safer. There'll be Indians around that herd thicker than flies.

-What's your thinking, Sergeant? And don't tell me it ain't your department.

-Well, Captain...

If I was a young hot-blood, like Red-shirt, anxious to show off in front of them Cheyennes,

I'd be at one of them council fires tellin' them I made the medicine that brought back the buffalo.

And I'd tell them about the Great Spirit...and how us Injins should all stick together...

and join with our Cheyenne brothers that whipped General Custer...

and drove out the rest of them Yankee soldiers. Yeah, that's what I'd tell 'em.

-Of course, I'm just guessin', Captain.

-Yeah.

Of course, I'm just a-guessin' too, Sergeant, but if I was an Indian Agent...say Mr Rynders,

and I'd met a couple of men who might be gun-runners,

I'm guessin' I'd be mighty close to that council fire of Red-Shirts,

doin' business in repeatin' rifles.

-Well, why don't we take...?

-Miss Dandridge and her chaperone, bub.

Keep it up! Just keep it up!

Sergeant, pick up our patrol at Paradise River, and proceed to Sudro's Wells...

Have them hold the stage-coach.

-Tell them I've been delayed. Take the column, Mr Cohill.

-Yes, sir.

-GUN SHOTS

-Whoa-oh!

Ladies to the rear.

Mr Cohill!

GUN SHOTS

First two sets of fours, forward! Take the column, Mr Cohill.

It's Quayne's patrol. Hold your fire!

Sound re-call!

Yo-ho!

Yo-ho! Over here!

Commence fire!

Shoot over their heads.

Drive 'em back!

Handle him easy, men.

­ Corporal Quayne, sir. Reporting with Paradise River Patrol.

Arapahoes jumped us at sundown.

­ It was Red-shirt hisself, Cap'n....

Shut up, McCarthy! I'm making this report.

Easy, Mike...

They had us ringed... but at night we got away.

Made it to the relief point. But you weren't there, sir.

I wanted to be there, Corporal. Proceed.

They flushed us at dawn, sir, and I got this.

It's a good, clear report.

-..Show on your record for that extra stripe in 2 or 3 years.

-Thank you, sir.

Sound for the wagon.

Easy, feller.

Good work, McCarthy. Good work, men.

We'll get you a little whisky, Quayne. You'll be all right.

Cheyennes, Laddie.

Same ones that killed them Yankee soldiers with General Custer.

YELLING AND WHOOPING

Easy, boy. Let's go!

The arrow-head's right over Quayne's heart, Nathan. It's got to come out.

-It's a risky operation at best. Can you halt?

-You know I can't.

For 30 minutes, Nathan... for a man's life.

Doctor, Quayne's a soldier. He'll have to take a soldier's risks.

-I'M the one that's begging.

-I'll give you all I can.

-Yo-ho! Dismount and lead.

-Thank you, Nathan.

Hold your step in the ranks!

DOCTOR: I'm ready. As slow as you can.

Here, Mike...another slug. After you, ma'am, if you please.

All right, down it goes.

# Around her knee she wore a yellow garter...

# She wore it for her lover who was far, far away... #

Ribaldry at a time like this!

# And whe-en they asked her why she wore the garter...

# She wore it for her lover in the US Cavalry

# Cavalry! Cavalry! #

­ Easy, Mike. Easy there.

Call him. > Captain Brittles!

Captain Brittles! >

Yah! Yah!

-O'Loughlin!

-I had to go behind the shoulder blade.

-Blast the details, man! How is he?

-He'll live to make Sergeant.

Troopers!

Pass the word. Quayne's doin' fine.

-CHEERS

-Prepare to mount!

Mount!

Forward... Yo-ho!

Thanks, soldier.

-I'm so happy about Corporal Quayne.

-Why? What's it mean to you whether he lives or dies?

Did you ever dance with him? Speak to him? Or even look at him?

No, of course you didn't. No officer's bars... not a gentleman.

Some officer's bars are no guarantee of a gentleman.

You're glad about Quayne because it's a happy ending for a story back East.

You can say you've seen it all. A real Indian fight... A man with an arrow in his chest.

Ah...Mrs Allshard is having a rough time back there, Miss Dandridge.

-Would you spell her for a while?

-Certainly, Captain. And thank you!

-Mr Cohill, did anyone ever take down your breeches and tan your hide?

-No, sir.

-That is...yes, sir. My father, sir.

-Well, I'm just old enough to be your father, bub.

They'll make a fine, boisterous couple when they're married, Cap'n.

Forward, ho!

SOUND OF SHOTS

Women to the rear!

-Women to the rear! Doesn't Captain B...

-Shut your gob!

-Go back to the rear, darlin', and I'll give you a big kiss.

-Sergeant!

I'd hate to be kissed... Shut up!

First two sets forward!

Gallop!

Gallop!

-I'm glad to see YOU, Captain.

-Sorry to be late, Tyree. Report!

-Cheyenne Dog party... and about 30 Arapahoes with 'em.

-Well, that blows the lid!

Ma and Pa Sudro, sir.

-Did the children see it?

-No, sir. Found 'em hidin' in the smoke-house.

Tyree...

-It's about time I DID retire.

-Sir, would you take a look at Trooper Smith?

Don't bother, Captain. Forgive my presumption...

Like to commend the boy, here, for the way he handled this action.

In the best tradition of the Cavalry, sir.

I take that very kindly, sir.

Captain Tyree...

-Captain Tyree...

-Speak to him.

-Thank you. Yes, sir!

Sir!

Sir!

I'm afraid he can't hear you.

Captain...

Palmer... Why, Carey Sue!

Do you remember me? I'm Mrs Soldier.

You visited me at the Fort, and we had a party, remember?

-See to your troop, Mr Cohill!

-Yes, sir!

-Mr Pennell...!

Picket lines!

Captain...

I know all this is because of me. Because I wanted to see the West.

Because I wasn't...wasn't ARMY enough to stay the winter.

Don't apologise, Miss. It's a sign of weakness.

But I'm to blame for this.

Only the man who commands can be blamed. It rests on me.

Mission, failure!

Well, we missed the Stage, Miss Dandridge.

SINGING IN BACKGROUND: "Bury Me Not On The Lone Prairie"

Well, that's the best I can do. I ran out of red flannel petticoats.

Mighty kind of you, Ma'am.

We thank you kindly. I'm proud to do it.

"I am the Resurrection, and the Life, sayeth the Lord.

"He that believeth in me, tho he were dead,

"yet shall he live. For who shall believeth in me, shall never die.

"I know that my Redeemer liveth, and that He shall stand at the latter day upon the earth."

So I commend to you the souls of John Sudro and his wife, Martha.

I also commend to your keeping the soul of Rome Clay,

late Brigadier-General, Confederate States Army...

known to his comrades as Trooper John Smith, United States Cavalry...

a gallant soldier and a Christian gentleman.

Ready - Aim - Fire!

Aim - Fire!

Aim - Fire!

-With your permission, sir?

-Granted.

-Bugler!

-We thank you, sir.

BUGLER : "The Last Post"

I wouldn't go any further if I were you.

You're almost across the footlights now.

There are probably a hundred hostiles out there... watching every move you're making.

SOUND OF WHIPPOORWILL

Think that's a Whippoorwill?

-Come on, Olivia. Let's go back.

-I can walk back alone, thank you.

Olivia...

The Old Man says don't ever apologise, it's a sign of weakness.

But...I'm sorry... for everything I've said and done.

-Oh, honey, I love you...

-All right, Flint, pull your blouse!

-Are you crazy ?!

-Since she put on that yellow ribbon...

-Button that shirt!

-You keep your paws off my girl.

-All right, let's step over to the corral.

-Ross, this isn't...

-I agree! Button your shirt!

Mr Pennell, I thought better of you.

Four years out here and still acting like a wet-eared cadet. What is this all about, Mr Cohill?

Sir, I...I decline to answer... respectfully.

Mr Cohill, it is a bitter thing indeed to learn that an Officer, with nine years' experience...

to whom I am surrendering command of this troop in two more days...

should have so little grasp of leadership as to allow himself to be chivvied into a fight,

while Taps still sounds over a brave man's grave.

God help this troop when I'm gone.

-Sir...

-Attention!

-Captain...

-YOU get back to the troop area.

Mr Cohill, have the men build their squad fires higher.

Make a show of bedding down.

Then we're sneaking out. Heading for the river... going back!

-I'm sorry, Ross.

-I'm sorry, Flint.

Just saw our old friend Mr Rynders, down there. Right smart tradin' a goin' on.

Mr Rynders, eh? Pass the word to Mister Pennell forward. Follow me.

Mister Rynders, Indian Agent. Huh!

­ La Cota wah-she-cha!

­ Lee la she-cha wah-she-cha!

He says, 50 is too much. Too much, huh?

I know he's got the money. Tell him I know he killed Major Cheadle.

­ And tell him it's 50 or no rifle.

Che moke mon keen-sah.

< Lee la she-cha wah-she-cha! La cota she-cha.

YELLS OF WARRIORS

Sergeant!

-It's scouts, sir. >

-No, your knife.

-Join me in a chaw of tobacco?

-No, sir. I don't chaw, and I don't play cards.

Chawin' tobacco's a nasty habit.

It's been known to turn a man's stomach.

I'll take a chaw, if you please, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Let's go.

-Still figurin' on resignin', Mister?

-No, sir.

-Pass the word... Officers and Sergeants forward!

-< Officers and Sergeants forward!

-Sergeant Tyree?

-Sir!

-Find me a trail to the river!

-Right, sir!

-Gentlemen, we'll leave a rearguard here, under one Officer.

-Sir!

Thank you, Mister Pennell. Your offer will go on your record.

Mr Cohill, take two squads... Cover our crossing.

Deny the hostiles the use of this ford.

-First squad! Second squad!

-Too many old married men.

-Fifth squad!

Wheel out and form on the right!

Can you swim, Dickey, me boy? No.

Well, I'M the best swimmer in the world.

Once I swam the English Channel... with an anvil on me chest.

­ You know, I've got two jars of jams and plums on my pantry shelf...

waitin' to be eaten up by a little girl like you. Tell her about the boats!

-Oh, Captain Brittles... Request permission to remain behind, sir.

-Permission refused.

Mr Cohill, start the troop across. One pack animal to the rear!

Get back in that wagon, Quayne.

Yo-oh!

Bugler, sound Officer's call for Captain Brittles.

BUGLE CALL

I'll be back, men. I promise you. Good luck.

Adjust your saddles and look your equipment over!

It's time for me to take me medicine.

It tastes horrible!

There are three parties of 'em, Mister Cohill, but this is the only crossing in 20 miles.

You gotta buy me some time.

-You gotta buy me a long day.

-Then we'll do it, sir.

-I know you will, Flint.

-Flint? It took you 9 years to call me that.

We'll get you out, son. Just hang on.

We'll get you out by noon tomorrow. Prepare to mount!

M-o-ove!

Flint, wait.

Well, hurry up and kiss her back, blast you. We haven't got all day.

All right, Miss Dandridge, if you please.

Get mounted!

-I guess that's how it is, Ross.

-I understand.

Forward! Troop forward! Yo-ho!

It's my duty to report... mission a failure.

Oh, fiddlesticks, Nathan! It was our fault.

I've never worn a coat of white-wash yet, Abby.

I failed at Sudro's, I failed to keep Rynders' rifles from the tribes... I'm a failure!

Agh!

-Mac, I left Flint Cohill with two squads back in the Paradise.

-A sound military move.

I'd like to rest the troops for 3 hours. I'll have Cohill out

-by noon tomorrow.

-No, Nathan. The troop can't leave till dawn.

-Dawn ?! They ought to pull out before midnight!

-I agree, Nathan, if you were leading it. But...

-Young Pennell needs the daylight.

-Pennell ?! Against a swarm of hostiles with Winchesters ?!

Remember you retire tomorrow, Captain.

Tomorrow is all I need, Mac. Look, I can't leave Cohill...

-facing those devils.

-This is no one day's mission, Nathan.

-They'll be out there all winter.

-I'll volunteer as a civilian scout... Anything.

-I thought you were fond of Cohill.

-Fond of him?

Every time Cohill gave an order men would turn around and look at you.

-Do you want to ruin the boy?

-I know, Mac, but...

Young Pennell's got to learn to cross a river under fire.

And Cohill's got to run his chances. That's what we get paid for.

Yeah... I guess you're right, Mac.

I guess you're right.

With your permission, I'll...

-I'll quit the Post tomorrow.

-Where will you go, Nathan?

Oh...West, I guess, Abby.

California... New settlements.

Old soldiers, Miss Dandridge...

Captain of a troop one day... every man's face turned towards you.

Lieutenants jump when I growl. Now, tomorrow...

I'll be glad if the blacksmith asks me to shoe a horse.

Blast your eyes, Abby, if you start sniffling now.

-As for you, young lady...

-I'm not crying.

I'd like to stand up and cheer.

It's time, sir. And it's a black day for the Army.

Did you sleep well, sir?

No...

I didn't sleep at all.

Well... Clean up the quarters after I'm gone...

Sell all this stuff and put the money in the troop fund.

Give Mrs Allshard my extra saddle, it'll be easier on her... disposition.

-And the bottle, sir?

-The bottle?

Oh, yes...the water bottle.

-Well, how did it ever get there, sir?

-Now, how do you suppose?

-How long have you known, sir?

-Since the battle of Bull Run.

-You've been deceivin' me for years.

Well...there's that.

I'd say that my retirement was an occasion for a drink, Sergeant. Help yourself.

No, I'd take no pleasure in it, sir.

But, if it's an order... Here's to your health.

Hah... Only 14 days left for meself, and I'll be wearing one o' them monkey suits too.

It's the only one I ever owned. I was barefoot when I left my daddy's farm to join the army.

Well, Sergeant, I haven't had a drink since...that day.

-I'm tempted to have one to your retirement.

-Oh, no, sir. I'll do the honours for you.

-Half a minute, Captain, darlin', till I get your blouse.

-What?

-The men'll like it, sir.

-Oh...yeah...my last time.

I...I'll review the troops alone this morning, Sergeant.

-Break in that suit of store clothes for me, will you?

-The suit?

Yeah, try it on. See how it looks.

-"C" Troop all present, sir.

-Thank you, sir.

Men...

I won't be going out with you.

I won't be here when you return.

..Wish I could.

But I know your performance...

under your new Commander... will make me proud of you.

As I have...always been... proud of you.

One moment, please, Captain.

Cpl Comrand, front and centre! >

Sir, a small token from the troop.

They all put in the hat for it, sir. Even Sergeant Hochbauer.

< It's solid silver, sir...

From Kansas City. There's a sentiment on the back.

"To Captain Brittles, from "C" troop...

..lest we forget."

Thank you, Corporal.

Thank you. Thank all of you.

Take your troop, Mister Pennell. Proceed on your mission.

Good luck, "C" troop.

# I'm lonesome since I crossed the hill

# And o'er the moor and valley

# Such heavy thoughts my heart do fill

# Since parting with my Sally.

# I seek no more the fine and gay For each does but remind me

# How swift the hours did pass away With the girl I left behind me. #

Oh...

Give me a side view.

It's perfect.

It was made for you, Quincannon! I wish you'd go down and order a duplicate.

Here... Have a couple of drinks while you're waiting.

You're out of uniform, Quincannon!

Oh, I am, am I? Well, I'm in the proper uniform... of a retired gentleman.

-Hochbauer! Hochbauer!

-Yes, sir.

Sgt Quincannon is improperly dressed on duty, and is under the influence.

-Throw him in the Guardhouse.

-Alone, sir?

-Afraid of him? ..All right. Wagner!

Give Hochbauer a hand.

Come, Fritz.

BOISTEROUS EXCHANGE

Give me a little drop of whiskey, Irish...and I'll pour it meself.

And when I've drank that up, just throw me out.

Hans! I want you to help me arrest Quincannon.

I'd love to throw that big Mick in the cooler.

You're under arrest, Quincannon.

By whose orders? Captain Brittles. Are you coming peaceably?

Laddie... I've never gone any place peaceably in me life.

You're just in time for a drink, Wagner.

Ah, Connolly, the old days have gone forever.

Did ye hear about the buffalo comin' back? Herds of them!

Men! We want no unpleasantness.

A toast first, and the Guardhouse after...if you're able.

­ And it's all on me. I'm paying.

To Captain Nathan Brittles...

on his retirement.

ALL: To Captain Nathan Brittles.

I..I thank you comrades... This has been a very pleasant moment.

Goodbye, Mr Connelly. Goodbye, Mr Quincannon.

Are you hurt, Hans? He's all right, Sarge.

Come and have a little sup before ye go.

Wagner! Come and join us.

Service!

Waiter!

What is the meaning of this? Are you all right, Quincannon?

To the Guardhouse, Quincannon. Quick step, march!

Watch the steps, ma'am.

Eight of you picking on one poor man! Only seven, ma'am.

Forward... Yo-ho!

All right, Nathan. I get it. Ten days in the Guardhouse and no charges.

Can't you make it two weeks, Mac? Until he retires.

He couldn't get by on less than a Sergeant's pension.

-I give you my word, he'll retire as top soldier.

-Thanks, Mac.

Well, on my way. Goodbye, Mac.

Say goodbye to Abby.

He'll do no such thing. Goodbye is a word we don't use in the Cavalry.

Till our next Post, dear.

Could I haul off and kiss you too, Captain?

-Goodbye, Doc.

-Goodbye, Nathan.

And may the road be kind to you.

NARRATOR: 'Signal smokes...war drums...

'Feathered bonnets against the Western sky...

'Young leaders are ready to hurl the finest light cavalry against Fort Starke.

'In the Kiowas' village, the drums echo in the pulse of the young braves.

'Hunters under a common banner... old quarrels forgotten...

'Comanche rides with Arapahoe... Apache with Cheyenne...

'to drive the white man forever from the red man's hunting ground.

'Only the old men stand silent.

'Even Pony-that-Walks has been howled down at the council fires.'

VOICE: Captain Brittles, sir.

CHEERS

-Captain Brittles! Glad to see you, sir.

-And I you. Report, Mister Pennell.

-We effected the relief as ordered. No casualties.

-My compliments, Mister Pennell.

We've been trailing them all day, sir. It's a big concentration...

Eight or nine hundred of them. And they're getting ready to strike.

-I'm glad the Major sent you, sir.

-He didn't. I'm not on duty.

-Then the orders haven't been changed?

-Orders are orders, sir.

For the next four hours, according to my brand new watch,

I'm an officer in the US Cavalry.

If I gave you a written order, Flint, would you obey it?

-I don't need a written order, sir.

-Nevertheless, you're gonna get it.

It might come in handy at our Court-Martial. Sgt Tyree! Fetch a guidon!

­ Yes, sir. Guidon!

Now, remain here. Take no action until I return.

If I don't, those are your orders. Don't lose them.

I'll take the pony herd. Were you ever scared, Tyree?

Yes, sir. Up to and including now.

Naytonn! Naytonn!

I am a Christian! Hallelujah!

Ah, old friend me! Long time! Long time!

I come in peace, Pony-that-Walks.

Take a-salt, Naytonn. Take salt!

Smoke pipe! Good!

Good!

Pony-that-Walks, my heart is sad at what I see.

Your young men painted for war... Their scalp knives red... Medicine drums talking...

It is a bad thing.

It is bad! Many will die! My young men...your young men... No good!

-We must stop this war.

-Too late, Naytonn.

Young men do not listen to me.

They listen to BIG medicine... Yellow hair...Custer dead...

Buffalo come back. Great sign! Too late, Naytonn.

You will come with me. Hunt buffalo together.

Smoke many pipes. We are too old for war!

Yes, we are too old for war.

But old men should stop wars.

Too late! Too late! Many squaws will sing the death songs...

Many lodges will be empty! You come with me.

We hunt buffalo... Get drunk together. Hallelujah!

-Hallelujah!

-No, old friend, I must go.

I go far away.

Then, Na-tonn, my brother...

..Go in peace.

Washkoeola!

ALL: Washkoeola!

-DOG YELPS

-Easy, pup... Easy!

Pass the word! Mount, and pass the word!

-HORSE NEIGHS

-Bugler, do you want to get busted back to horse-shoeing...?!

-Tyree!

-Sir!

Mister Cohill...

Can you read the time by my brand new silver watch?

Twelve minutes to midnight, sir.

Gentlemen!

Bugler... Sound the charge!

Yo-oh! Yo-oh!

SOUND OF SHOTS AND YELLS

-Sound recall!

-BUGLE

-Any wounded?

-No, sir.

-Hmm, no casualties, no Indian war, no court-martial!

Follow the hostiles back to the Reservation.

Follow a mile behind them. Walking hurts their pride, and you watching will make it worse.

Can you read what time it is by my brand new silver watch?

It's two minutes past midnight, sir.

Oh...

I've been a civilian for 2 minutes.

It's your army, Mr Cohill. Good luck.

NARRATOR: 'So Nathan Brittles, ex-Captain of the Cavalry, started westwards

'to the new settlements in California...

'toward the setting sun, which is the end of the trail for all old men.

'But the Army hadn't finished with Nathan Brittles.

'They sent Sgt Tyree after him.

Yo-oh!

Captain Brittles!

It's for you, sir, from the Yankee War Department.

Aw, I knew it! Dadblast it, I knew it!

Every time you...WHAT ?! Sergeant, it's my appointment.

Chief of Scouts...with the rank of Lieutenant Colonel.

And look at those endorsements!

Phil Sheridan... William Tecumseh Sherman... and Ulysses Simpson Grant,

President of the USA! There's three aces for you, boy.

-Yeah, but I kinda wish you'd been holdin' a full hand.

-Full hand?

-Robert E. Lee, sir.

-Oh! It wouldn't have been bad. Let's go.

APPLAUSE

­ Welcome home, Colonel, darlin'.

Your arm, Colonel Brittles.

Sir...?

You'll be surprised to know that Miss Dandridge and I are...

Everybody above the rank of Second Lieutenant knew it. Right, Mr Pennell?

-Some time, sir, I'll be First Lieutenant.

-Yeah, in...

ALL: In ten or twelve years.

-Will you stay for the dance, Colonel?

-I've got to make my report first.

Ladies and gentlemen, thank you.

Thank you.

MUSIC: "She Wore a Yellow Ribbon" in waltz time.

NARRATOR: 'So here they are. The dog-faced soldiers, the regulars,

'riding the outposts of a nation.

'From Reno to Fort Apache, from Sheridan to Stockton...

'Men in dirty-shirt blue. And only a cold page in the history books to mark their passing.

'But wherever they rode, and whatever they fought for, that place became the United States.'

Subtitles by Wilma Campbell BBC - 1987