SSgt. John Martin: Flash.Harry Welsh: Thunder. [referring to Germans singing across the field] Catchy tune, ain't it?SSgt. John Martin: Hey, Lieutenant. What's the news?Harry Welsh: Oh, the same as it was this afternoon. They're in their hedgerow. We're in ours.SSgt. John Martin: Spell me a minute sir.Harry Welsh: You gonna let Blithe get some sack time?SSgt. John Martin: My back teeth are floating.Harry Welsh: Get back here ASAP, Martin.SSgt. John Martin: You can count on me, sir.Harry Welsh: How you doing, Blithe?Pvt. Albert Blithe: I'm okay, sir.Harry Welsh: What happened at the aid station today?Pvt. Albert Blithe: Doc Roe, he called it hysterical blindness. [Welsh offers blithe a drink from his canteen] No thank you, sir.Harry Welsh: You know what they said in basic. Dehydration's a soldier's worst enemy. [Blithe drinks] It's a game, Blithe. That's all. We're just moving the ball forward one yard at a time. Nothing but a game.Pvt. Albert Blithe: What is, sir?Harry Welsh: This. The whole thing. [offers Blithe another drink]Pvt. Albert Blithe: No, thank you, sir.Harry Welsh: Just a game.
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