Memorable quotes for
A Walk in the Sun (1945) More at IMDbPro »

Friedman: You ever think you'll live to make corporal?
Rivera: Baby, I just want to live long enough to make civilian.
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Sergeant Tyne: It's a funny thing, how many people you meet in an army that cross your path for a few seconds and you never see 'em again.
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Rivera: Nobody dies.
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Sergeant Tyne: Nothing slower than crawling. Nothing in the world. How long would it take to crawl around the world? A hundred years? A thousand years?
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Sergeant Tyne: Wonder what it'll be like when we hit France, Mac.
McWilliams: I don't know. I never seen France.
Sergeant Tyne: I bet its just a long concrete wall with a gun every yard. Maybe they'll set the water on fire with oil, too. Boy, when that day comes I wanna be somewhere else.
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Windy: A man's hands never seem to get clean, even if he don't touch nothing. They just stay dirty. Sort of a special kind of dirt. G.I. dirt. I bet one of those criminologists could take a sample out of a guy's fingernail, put it under a microscope, and say, "That's G.I. dirt." The dirt's always the same color, no matter what country you're fighting in.
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Windy: Hey, Tinker? How do you spell "Mare Nostrum?"
Tinker: What's that?
Windy: The Mediterranean. It's what the Eye-ties call it. It means "our sea."
Tinker: Why?
Windy: I'm writing to my sister.
Tinker: Whattya mean, you're writing to your sister? You're packed on a landing barge, bouncing on your Mare Nostrum, and waiting to hit the beach like the rest of us slobs.
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Rivera: It could've been something else. It could've been the engineers or the tanks. It could even have been the Navy. They looked at me and said, "Here's a guy that can walk." They finished me, all right.
Friedman: Everybody walks. Even monkeys.
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Friedman: Where are we going, Rivera?
Rivera: I am going someplace where I can set up this weapon. Then I am going to shoot this weapon. I am not gonna walk any more!
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[Windy composes a letter while his landing craft is heading for the beachhead at Salerno under heavy fire]
Windy: Dear Frances, I am writing you this letter relaxing on the deck of a luxury liner. On shore the natives have evidently just spotted us and are getting up a reception - fireworks, music and that sort of stuff. Ha. The musicians in our own band have also struck up a little tune. Ha ha.
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[last lines]
[after a desperate battle with many casualties Windy's platoon captures their objective]
Windy: Dear Frances, we just blew a bridge and took a farmhouse. It was so easy... so terribly easy.
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Pvt. Archimbeau: Every dirty job in the army is my personal property.
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Sgt. Ward: Apples.
Windy: What'd you say, Sergeant?
Sgt. Ward: [surprised] Guess I said 'apples.'
Windy: Why?
Sgt. Ward: Just thinkin' of 'em.
Windy: Oh.
Riddle: What kind of apples, sergeant?
Sgt. Ward: All kinds. Baldwnis, McIntosh, Reds, Pippins, Russets... I was thinkin' I'd like to be cuttin' one open, right now. And lickin' that juice off the knife.
Riddle: Cut it out, willya, Sarge?
[grinning]
Riddle: Now ya got me thinking about something juicy.
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Windy: [looking at Sergeant Porter, sobbing face down on the ground] Keep crying, Porter. You're crying because you're wounded. You don't have to be bleeding to be wounded; you just had one battle too many. Yeah, you're out of it now. No more guesswork, waiting and wondering, for you. You've built yourself a foxhole
[taps his own helmet]
Windy: - up there. Nothing in the world that can make you come out of it. Go ahead, Porter; keep crying - we understand.
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Rivera: Did you ever go camping when you were a kid?
Friedman: Every time we get in a bunch of trees, you ask me the same question.
Rivera: Every time I get in a bunch of trees, I remember it.
Friedman: For the millionth time, no - I never went camping when I was a kid. I lived in the city.
Rivera: I lived in the city, too, schmeggege. I got on the train.
Friedman: Yeah, you told me.
Rivera: Well, I'm telling you again.
Friedman: You're a jukebox, Rivera. Somebody keeps putting nickels into you.
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Rivera: [turning away from Friedman] I ain't talkin' to you no more. Hey, Judson!
Pvt. Judson: [running up from the rear] Yeah?
Rivera: You ever go camping in the woods?
Pvt. Judson: What woods?
Rivera: [to Friedman, jerking thumb towards Judson] Get that, willya?
[to Judson]
Rivera: ANY woods!
Pvt. Judson: No.
Rivera: That's it! You don't know what you missed. You ain't never lived until you toasted a mickey over the coals. It ain't like Army chow. You can sit around the campfire - you can shoot it all nght, if you want to. You can go fishing - all that kinda stuff.
Friedman: [sarcastically] Outdoor man.
Rivera: Next time they make you a civilian, Judson, try a camp in the woods. Tell 'em I sent you.
Pvt. Judson: Tell who?
Rivera: The birds - and the bees! Did your old man ever tell you about the birds and the bees?
Pvt. Judson: No.
Rivera: Hear that, Friedman? Judson never heard of the birds and bees.
Friedman: That's terrible!
Rivera: Shall we tell him?
Friedman: Maybe we'd better.
Rivera: Give us a butt, Judson; we'll tell you alllll about the birds and the bees.
Pvt. Judson: Ain't got a butt.
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Rivera: Good thing they invented trains for travelling salesmen.
Friedman: OK, kill me: what's the gag?
Rivera: No gag. But if they didn't have trains, all the travelling salesmen would have to walk.
Friedman: *You're* a travelling salesman; you ain't been taking any trains lately.
Rivera: Whaddaya mean, *I'm* a travelling salesman? I'm a murderer!
Friedman: You're a travelling salesmen. You're selling democracy to the natives.
Rivera: So that's what I am, huh? Whaddaya know. Where'd you get that malarkey, Jake?
Friedman: Out of a book.
Rivera: A book!
Friedman: You're a decadent democrat, Rivera.
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