Gentlemen-Rankers                                               Rudyard Kipling, 1892

TO THE legion of the lost ones, to the cohort of the damned,
To my brethren in their sorrow overseas,
Sings a gentleman of England cleanly bred, machinely crammed,
And a trooper of the Empress, if you please.
Yea, a trooper of the forces who has run his own six horses,
And faith he went the pace and went it blind,
And the world was more than kin while he held the ready tin,
But to-day the Sergeant’s something less than kind.

We’re poor little lambs who’ve lost our way,
Baa! Baa! Baa!
We’re little black sheep who’ve gone astray,
Baa—aa—aa!
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,
Damned from here to Eternity,
God ha’ mercy on such as we,
Baa! Yah! Bah!

Oh, it’s sweet to sweat through stables, sweet to empty kitchen slops,
And it’s sweet to hear the tales the troopers tell,
To dance with blowzy housemaids at the regimental hops
And thrash the cad who says you waltz too well.
Yes, it makes you cock-a-hoop to be “Rider” to your troop,
And branded with a blasted worsted spur,
When you envy, O how keenly, one poor Tommy being cleanly
Who blacks your boots and sometimes calls you “Sir”.

If the home we never write to, and the oaths we never keep,
And all we know most distant and most dear,
Across the snoring barrack-room return to break our sleep,
Can you blame us if we soak ourselves in beer?
When the drunken comrade mutters and the great guard-lantern gutters
And the horror of our fall is written plain,
Every secret, self-revealing on the aching white-washed ceiling,
Do you wonder that we drug ourselves from pain?

We have done with Hope and Honour, we are lost to Love and Truth,
We are dropping down the ladder rung by rung,
And the measure of our torment is the measure of our youth.
God help us, for we knew the worst too young!
Our shame is clean repentance for the crime that brought the sentence,
Our pride it is to know no spur of pride,
And the Curse of Reuben holds us till an alien turf enfolds us
And we die, and none can tell Them where we died.

We’re poor little lambs who’ve lost our way,
Baa! Baa! Baa!
We’re little black sheep who’ve gone astray,
Baa—aa—aa!
Gentlemen-rankers out on the spree,
Damned from here to Eternity,
God ha’ mercy on such as we,
Baa! Yah! Bah!

How about a war movie that doesn’t really contain much of the actual war? That’s what this week’s Best Picture winner is like (to my great disappointment). From Here To Eternity (1953, Columbia) is a big Academy Award winner, nearly tying All About Eve’s record for nominations. Falling one short of 1950’s BP, From Here to Eternity received 13 nods, including Music (Music Score of a Dramatic or Comedy Picture), Costume Design (Black-and-White), Best Actor for Burt Lancaster as Sgt. Milton Warden, Best Actor for Montgomery Clift as Robert E. Lee Prewitt, and Best Actress for Deborah Kerr as Karen Holmes. The film snagged eight Oscars: Best Motion Picture, Cinematography (Black-and-White), Sound Recording, Writing (Screenplay), Film Editing, Directing for Fred Zinnemann, Actress in a Supporting Role for Donna Reed as Alma/Lorene, and Actor in a Supporting Role for Frank Sinatra as Angelo Maggio (yes, Ol’ Blue Eyes himself!). It was the biggest Academy Award winner since Gone with the Wind and earned a staggering $30.5 million at the box office.

From Here to Eternity’s infamous make-out scene. Probably a lot of sand in those bathing suits…

But despite the film’s critical and monetary successes, I just don’t like it (sorry!). The characters frustrated and angered me. The script bored me at times. I was hoping for the actual events that occurred in Pearl Harbor in 1941 to occupy center stage a little more—rather than just show up for the film’s last 15 minutes or so (although the actual footage of the Pearl Harbor ships on fire was stunning and used very effectively in the movie). On the flip side, it’s interesting to contemplate the fact that 12 years after the bombing of Pearl Harbor From Here to Eternity raises questions about morality and integrity within the ranks of military men who have been consistently hailed as heroes (albeit flawed ones) in films like 1942’s Mrs. Miniver and 1946’s The Best Years of Our Lives.

Based on the explicit and lengthy novel of the same name written by James Jones and published in 1951, From Here to Eternity takes its title from a line in the Rudyard Kipling poem “Gentlemen-Rankers” included at the beginning of this post. It’s a very thought-provoking poem about enlisted soldiers who should have been officers because of their educations and/or social-class backgrounds, but who were not officers due to personal reasons such as demotions in rank or indiscretions committed as civilians. The dark atmosphere of the poem is mirrored in that of the film, which does not shy away from the issues of drunkenness, prostitution, infidelity, mob violence, and abuse of authority. If the film wishes to disturb its viewers and smash the shiny image of World War II heroes that its predecessors worked so hard to establish, it definitely achieves that goal. But I for one will be glad to move on to another film next week.

For more thoughts on From Here to Eternity and its significance, please check out the full post this weekend!