Dear Father, I need your help. Despite my many requests, it has become clear that we are to be used only for manual labor. Morale is low. The men's humor darkened by idleness and despair. Why keep drilling if they are never to be given the opportunity to prove themselves? I have written to Governor Andrew as well as to the general staff in Washington. But I feel that only a letter directly from you to Lincoln himself can have the desired effect. I can think of no other course. I am sure you both pray, as I do, that all this has not been in vain.
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Colonel Robert Gould Shaw Come on, Fifty-Fourth!
Sergeant John Mulcahy For God's sake, men, you march like a bunch of crippled old goats! Jesus Christ, we're gonna be here day and night till we get this right! One, one! Company, halt! About-face! You are ugly Mexican, African **** whores! We're gonna work on this day and night till we get this right, gentlemen. Forward at the half step. March!
Sergeant John Mulcahy Oh, look at this. Bonnie Prince Charlie. Are you a gentleman? Are you a member of Congress or something? Or are you the bloody prince of Africa?! [Searles glances at him] Well, don't look at me! [grabs his jaw, points his face forward] Look straight ahead! Look straight ahead! I'll eat your ass up, boy-o!
Glory
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