John Agar is the green second lieutenant, David Brian is his company commander, and Frank Lovejoy is the avuncular top sergeant herding the platoon through the hedgerows of Normandy after landing on the beach in 1944. Agar is passable. Brian has the John Wayne role of the tough, distant taskmaster who secretly knows every man in the platoon by his first name but will never admit it. Lovejoy is not the most expressive actor who ever lived but he's always likable.
As for the men in the platoon, let's see. (1) A good-natured Southern redneck who cries when his dog is killed. (2) A tough kid from the streets of Chicago. (3) A goofy looking comedian who impersonates movie stars. (4) An ambitious corporal who thinks of nothing but running for Congress when it's all over. (5) The older, pipe-smoking family man who is a reassuring presence. (6) A dim-witted muscle man who avoid noxious foods and women, either of which might drain him of his élan. (7) The kid with glasses, too young to vote. (7) The Jewish kid from the Bronx who shares his salami with the others.
There is a good deal of banter -- there always is -- but no serious conflict among the men. Brian's company commander is hard on everyone but he has a heart of, well, not gold but not stone either. The banter is absolutely terrible, all forced gaiety. The writers seem to know quite a bit about Army protocol and equipment but nothing about producing a screenplay. The usual girls show up improbably from time to time.
Two scenes do stand out, though, amidst the dross. In the first one, a German tanks is trundling implacably along a sunken road between the hedge rows. The platoon has nothing to stop its advance. But William Campbell, already wounded, climbs aboard the tank from the rear and destroys it with a grenade. The others shout at him, telling him to jump off before the Panzer blows, and Campbell cries out, "I can't! I ain't got no LEGS." The second scene provides the climax. Brian is relieved of command of the company and booted upstairs with a promotion to major. Both he and his superiors know he's not needed at staff, but he's pustular with tension and is about to pop. He turns the company over to Agar, along with his own silver first-lieutenant's bar. It doesn't sound like much, I know, but it's played well, almost entirely without sentiment.
It might be worth adding that the advance through the hedgerows was as difficult and costly as it was, not just because of the terrain but because the German withdrawal was so skillfully managed. The Germans would hold out against the advancing Allies until the last minute, but before leaving their shell holes and trenches they would have them zeroed in for mortar fire -- hole by hole. They left mines at the bottom of some of them.
As for the men in the platoon, let's see. (1) A good-natured Southern redneck who cries when his dog is killed. (2) A tough kid from the streets of Chicago. (3) A goofy looking comedian who impersonates movie stars. (4) An ambitious corporal who thinks of nothing but running for Congress when it's all over. (5) The older, pipe-smoking family man who is a reassuring presence. (6) A dim-witted muscle man who avoid noxious foods and women, either of which might drain him of his élan. (7) The kid with glasses, too young to vote. (7) The Jewish kid from the Bronx who shares his salami with the others.
There is a good deal of banter -- there always is -- but no serious conflict among the men. Brian's company commander is hard on everyone but he has a heart of, well, not gold but not stone either. The banter is absolutely terrible, all forced gaiety. The writers seem to know quite a bit about Army protocol and equipment but nothing about producing a screenplay. The usual girls show up improbably from time to time.
Two scenes do stand out, though, amidst the dross. In the first one, a German tanks is trundling implacably along a sunken road between the hedge rows. The platoon has nothing to stop its advance. But William Campbell, already wounded, climbs aboard the tank from the rear and destroys it with a grenade. The others shout at him, telling him to jump off before the Panzer blows, and Campbell cries out, "I can't! I ain't got no LEGS." The second scene provides the climax. Brian is relieved of command of the company and booted upstairs with a promotion to major. Both he and his superiors know he's not needed at staff, but he's pustular with tension and is about to pop. He turns the company over to Agar, along with his own silver first-lieutenant's bar. It doesn't sound like much, I know, but it's played well, almost entirely without sentiment.
It might be worth adding that the advance through the hedgerows was as difficult and costly as it was, not just because of the terrain but because the German withdrawal was so skillfully managed. The Germans would hold out against the advancing Allies until the last minute, but before leaving their shell holes and trenches they would have them zeroed in for mortar fire -- hole by hole. They left mines at the bottom of some of them.