Pierre Boulle - The Bridge over the River Kwai

“Nothing matters apart from action, sir… Joyce’s expression when he came out of his hide-out! And he didn’t falter. He struck home according to the textbook, I’ll vouch for that. All he needed was a little more judgment. The other chap rushed at him with such fury that they both rolled down the slope toward the river. They didn’t stop till they were almost in the water. To the naked eye they looked as if they were both lying there quite still. But I saw the details through my glasses. One was on top of the other. The body in uniform was crushing the naked bloodstained body, crushing it with all its weight, while two furious hands were squeezing the other’s throat. I could see it all quite clearly. He was stretched out with his arms flung wide, next to the corpse in which the dagger was still embedded. At that moment, sir, he realized his mistake, I’m sure. He realized, I’m sure he realized, that he had killed the wrong colonel.

“I saw him. His hand was close to the hilt of his knife. He seized it. He stiffened. I could almost see his muscles flexing. For a moment I thought he had made up his mind. But it was too late. He had no strength left. He had given all he had. He was unable to do anything more—or else he was unwilling to. He dropped his knife and gave in. Total surrender, sir. You know what it’s like, when you have to give up completely? He resigned himself to his fate. He moved his lips and uttered just one word. No one will ever know if it was an oath or a prayer, or even a polite conventional expression of utter despair. He wasn’t bloody- minded, sir, or if he was he didn’t show it. He always treated his superior officers with respect. Good God, Shears and I only just managed to stop him springing to attention each time he spoke to either of us! I bet you he said ‘sir’ before passing out, sir. Everything depended on him. It was all over.

“Then several things happened all at once, several ‘facts,’ as you would no doubt call them, sir. They were all muddled in my mind, but I’ve sorted them out since. The train was arriving. The roar of the engine was growing louder every second; but it wasn’t loud enough to drown the yells of that lunatic, who was shouting for help at the top of his voice in parade-ground tones!

“There I was, unable to do anything, sir. I couldn’t have done better than he did. I certainly couldn’t; no one could—except, perhaps, Shears. Shears! It was then that I heard someone else shouting. Shears’s voice; that was it. It echoed right round the valley. The voice of a raving madman, sir! I could only make out the one word: ‘Strike!’

He, too, had realized, and sooner than I had. But it was too late now.

“Some time afterward I saw a man in the water. He was swimming toward the enemy bank. It was him. It was Shears. He, too, worshiped action, action at any price. A crazy thing to do. He had gone mad, just as I had, as a result of that morning. He didn’t have a chance. I felt like dashing out to join him, but it would have taken over two hours to climb down from the observation post.

“He didn’t have a dog’s chance. He was swimming frantically, but it took him several minutes to get across. And in that time, sir, the train was already on the bridge, the splendid River Kwai bridge which our comrades-inarms had built! Just then—just then, I remember, I saw a group of Japanese soldiers; they had heard the yells and were stumbling down the slope.

“They were the ones who dealt with Shears as he climbed out of the water. He got rid of two of them. Two thrusts of his knife, sir, I didn’t miss a thing. He wasn’t going to let himself be captured alive, but a rifle butt came down on the back of his head. He collapsed. Joyce was also on the ground, lying quite still. The colonel was getting to his feet. The soldiers had cut the wire. There was nothing more we could do, sir.”

“There’s always some further action to take,” Colonel Green observed.

“Always some further action to take, sir… After that there was an explosion. The train, which no one had thought of stopping, had blown up on the fog signal I had laid this side of the bridge, just below the observation post. A bit of luck, that! I’d forgotten all about it. The engine came off the track and plunged into the river, bringing two or three coaches down with it. A few men were drowned, a fair amount of stores lost. But the damage could be repaired in a few days—that was the net result. But it caused quite a lot of excitement on the opposite bank.”

“A pretty fine sight, I should think, all the same,” Colonel Green consoled him.

“A very fine sight, sir, for those that like that sort of thing. So I tried to think how I could make it look even finer. I didn’t forget the principles of the Service, sir. I really racked my brains at that moment to see if there was anything more I could do in the way of action.”

“There’s always something more to be done in the way of action,” Colonel Green dreamily remarked.

“Always something to be done… That must be true, since everyone says so. That was Shears’s motto. I remember it.”

Warden stopped talking for a moment, overcome by this last thought, then went on in a softer tone of voice.

“I thought hard, sir. I thought as hard as I possibly could, while the group of soldiers swarmed round Joyce and Shears. Shears was certainly still alive, and so perhaps was Joyce, in spite of what that dirty dog had done to him.

“I could see only one possible way of taking action, sir. My two partisans were still in position with the mortar. They could fire just as easily on the group of Japs as on the bridge, and the group was just as easy to hit. I gave them that as their target. I waited a little longer. I saw the soldiers pick up the prisoners and start carrying them off. They were both still alive. It was the worst that could have happened. Colonel Nicholson brought up the rear, hanging his head as though he was deep in thought. I wonder what he was thinking, sir. I suddenly made up my mind, while there was still time.

“I gave the order to fire. The Siamese understood at once. We had trained them pretty thoroughly, sir. It was a splendid fireworks display. Another fine sight for those in the observation post. Close cross fire. I handled the mortar myself, and I’m not such a bad shot.”

“Good results?” Colonel Green broke in.

“Good results, sir. The first shells burst right among the group. A stroke of luck! Both our chaps were blown to pieces. I confirmed that by looking through my glasses. Believe me, sir, please believe me, I didn’t want to leave the job half done, either. All three of them, I should have said. The colonel as well. There was nothing left of him. Three birds with one stone. Not bad!

“After that? After that, sir, I fired all the shells I had. There were quite a lot. Our hand grenades as well. The position had been well selected. We sprayed the ground pretty thoroughly. I was a bit overwrought, I admit. The stuff was falling a bit indiscriminately, on the rest of the company rushing out of the camp, on the derailed train, in which everyone was shrieking, and also on the bridge. The two Siamese were as worked up as I was. The Japs fired back. Soon the smoke spread and crept up as far as us, more or less blotting out the valley and the River Kwai. We were cut off in a stinking gray fog. There was no more ammo, nothing else to fire. So we retired.

“Since then I’ve often thought about that decision of mine, sir. I’m now convinced I couldn’t have done anything else. I took the only line of conduct possible. It was really the only proper action I could have taken.”

“The only proper action,” Colonel Green agreed.

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