Goodbody Quotes in How I Won the War (1967)

Grapple: Never underrate the wily Pathan. What we're going on to now is the wily Pathan, followed the use of and handling of anti-gas carpet. The Pathan lives in India. India is a hot, strange country. It's full of wily Pathans and they're up to wily things, which is why I always wear spurs, even in cold weather. Now, my advice to you is always to keep your rifle strapped to a suitable portion of your body - your leg is good. Otherwise, you'll find the wily Pathan will strip himself mother-naked, grease himself all over - slippery as an eel - make off with your rifle, which is a crime. Any questions so far, or can we take gas?

Goodbody: Sir, has the pathan gone over to Hitler, sir?

Grapple: Grammar school boy?

Goodbody: Sir.

Grapple: No, he has not. Too wily for that, the wily Pathan, you'll find.

Goodbody: Then shall we be fighting him in this war, sir?

Grapple: Of course we will, boy! The British Army has always fought the wily Pathan. Stripped mother-naked, under the tent brailings like a snake, he is.

Goodbody: Why?

Grapple: [increasingly annoyed] Why, what? Why, what? We want to get on to gas. May save your life one day, gas.

Goodbody: Er, why has the British Army always fought the wily Pathan, sir?

Grapple: [very incensed] Because he's just like you are, a damn wily troublemaker! What's your name in full? How did you get into an O.C.T.U. without knowing your history?

[sigh]

Grapple: God help your men. They'll be torn apart by the wily Pathan.

Goodbody: [talking aloud to himself] I can't, I fear, I can't march properly on my own, as an officer, in the public eye.

Juniper: [sitting in back of a truck, smoking, holding a broom] Isn't that sickening when that happens to a chap? Couldn't your drill instructor do something about it? Like a quick jab up the crotch with a broom bass?

[holds up broom]

Grapple: [standing atop a desert fortification] Fourth Muskets, aren't you?

Goodbody: [on the ground] Sir.

Grapple: Been expecting you. I'm your link to Army. Blue, white, and two reds.

Goodbody: I'm green, green, green, sir.

Grapple: Oh ho ho ho, I know you are.

Juniper: [enters scene dressed as a clown, pulling a hobby horse, as if acting a scene] Will you take my horse, sir?

Transom: [to Goodbody] Take no large notice, sir. He is working what is known as ticket, sir. Keeps the lads amused.

[Clapper, Drouge, and Spool join Juniper, dressed normally]

Transom: Pick those bits up, Gripweed!

[joining the scene]

Transom: Where's your tin hat gone, Juniper?

Juniper: Losing by neglect, sir!

Transom: If I catch you without your tin hat in a battle zone again, I'll ram it down your throat!

Clapper: Losing by neglect, one mess tin.

Juniper: One mess tin!

Transom: Did you have your name on it?

[aside, to Goodbody]

Transom: Take no notice, sir.

Juniper: Scratched on!

Goodbody: Pull these...

Clapper: Scratched on?

Goodbody: ...men together!

Juniper: Scored it!

Transom: How dare you disfigure government property? Six days royal warrant. March him off, Musket Major. Two men!

[exeunt Juniper, Clapper, Drogue, and Spool]

Transom: [to Goodbody] Ought to camouflage up, sir, or go - or go get the scrim up, sir, if you're stopping. Us in our, uh, vests here, sir. Exposed to all manner of nasty -

Goodbody: [interrupting, angry but calm] I'm going to explode, but I won't. I think the roller, don't you?

[walks to background]

Juniper: [re-enters scene still dressed as a clown, Drogue, Spool, Gripweed, and Clapper in tow] Bayonet!

Transom: Bayonet?

Spool: Where's your bayonet?

Juniper: Must have left it sticking in the enemy, sir!

Spool: Spur!

Juniper: Where?

Transom: Where's your spur?

Juniper: Must have left it sticking in the horse, sir!

Goodbody: [calls out] Two men!

[exeunt players]

Goodbody: [walks back to Transom and ex-Dooley, points his finger at ex-Dooley, shouting] There! On the end of my finger!

Gripweed: [re-enter players] Finger!

Juniper: Finger?

Gripweed: Musketeer Juniper, where's your finger?

Juniper: Must have left it sticking up the Khyber Pass, sir!

Transom: Self-inflicted injury! March him off, Musket Major! Two - wait for it!

[pause, players posed as if frozen while running]

Transom: Two men!

[exeunt players]