Mouche:
Aren't there enough dead already?
Cpl. John J. Bramble:
Oh, yes. There are a lot of dead, Mouche. In Tobruk I saw them piled up in the hundreds. In Sevastopol, they lay ten deep. They were blown to bits in the Repulse and the Prince of Wales. In Athens, they're dying of starvation, four hundred of them. For what, Mouche? So that somebody like you can hold up a tin cup to a victorious Lieutenant... begging for a pfennigs worth of pity? It's not one brother that matters, it's a million brothers. It's not just one prison gate that they might sneak open for you. It's all their gates that must go.
Mouche:
Alright. Talk. You talk such big words. You have a million brothers. I'm small. I've only one. And I want him to live.
Riportata da il
05/03/2025 alle ore 09:10