King Rat

There are a few of us colonials
scattered around.

Maj. Brough is our officer.
Maybe you'd like to meet him.

Yes. Yes, of course.
Who are those poor sorts, corporal?
Just some of the guys. Officers.

These are officers' huts.
The enlisted men are inside the wall.

-Are they all like that?

Do they all look like that?
-Then why are you so different?

Why are you so different?
-How do you mean, sir?
-Why are you dressed properly...

...and they're in rags?
No harm in looking after your clothes,
is there?

You're in good shape too, aren't you?
l've been keeping on the ball, sir.
-No harm in that either, is there, sir?
-No. No harm at all.

-Where's the commandant's quarters?
-Over there, sir. The end bungalow.

l won't forget you, corporal.
l'll certainly see Maj. Brough
at the earliest opportunity.

-What do you mean by that, sir?
-Figure it out, corporal.

l wish l had your nerve, Fortnum.
l couldn't talk to him.

l ran away. We all did.
He was so real. lt was too real.
God, it's mad, isn't it?
lt's over, and we've survived.

But it's still all mad.
What did he say to you?