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| Heidi, Major Smith, and Mary Ellison in Where Eagles Dare. |
Louis Shalako
Alistair Maclean’s Where Eagles Dare is one of the most
popular war films of all time. I bought the book at about the age of eighteen.
I liked Alistair Maclean so much, that I bought every book of his that I could
find. Over the course of time I owned, and have read many of them, (some of them, many, many times), but by no means all of them.
Every so often, I search the internet looking for
crummy old movies, which I like very much. I watch this film several times a
year, as well as Ice Station Zebra, The Guns of Navarone, Force 10 from
Navarone, When Eight Bells Toll, Bear Island, Puppet on a Chain and of
course Breakheart Pass. There are
some I simply can’t find. One or two, I can find
them but the thing is unwatchable, either due to poor reproduction or poor
sound.
Some of these old films were taken off a television
screen with a camcorder, dubbed more than once, and it really shows sometimes.
Also, volume is often an issue, if you’re going to upload videos to the
internet, for crying out loud, turn up the fucking volume already…we can turn
it down ourselves if we have to.
River of Death
is just plain bad, Donald Pleasance, Michael Dudikoff and Robert Vaughn,
Herbert Lom and L.Q. Jones are unable to save it by mere presence alone. One
pretty girl cannot save a bad film, ladies and gentlemen. (Full
cast.)
***
As entertaining as the film is, Where Eagles
Dare is riddled with plot holes and just plain inconsistencies.
Hopefully the reader understands that as a student of
writing, one can learn a lot by attention to detail—a good lesson for any writer
or director, then there is a bit of logical analysis, and then there is good
old fact-checking.
For example, in the opening scene, a Junkers JU-52 aircraft
simply does not have the range to fly from the U.K. to southern Germany, and
return. The range is quoted at 620 miles, top speed of 165 mph. Cruising speed
would be less. The town of
Werfen is a real town, it’s in Austria, part of Germany after the
Anschluss, not far from the Bavarian border. At its maximum speed, even if
it had the range, you would be flying in enemy airspace for hours and hours at
a time. You would have to do it twice in what looks like about twenty-four
hours, for they parachute and land in darkness, hang out all day, leave in the night and take
off in at least some daylight…
The action takes place before D-Day, in fact the fake
General Carnaby was supposedly flying to Crete to consult with his Russian
counterparts prior to the invasion, where some sort of coordination, or maybe
just notification, would be in order.
Only problem there, is that Crete was not liberated
until 1945—a simple statement of fact, which can be checked.
Also, assuming you just stole a JU-52 off a nearby airbase, every fighter and anti-aircraft
battery in Western Europe would be looking for that plane, which would be
lumbering along at 130-mph or whatever. Your best bet would be to head for
Switzerland, and if the plane was simply stolen, there would be no way for
Colonel Turner to be there in the final, climactic scene. And why send the
Colonel along in the first place? It would be so much wiser just to arrest him
while he’s still in England, still at headquarters, where armed people abound,
hell, they might even have a cell to put him in. This is the significance of the scene where the Admiral asks, 'do you have it?' as Colonel Turner and the others have been under suspicion for some time. One wonders why they didn't just arrest him and sweat him a little, but then there would be no film...right? At this point, the other enemy agents are expendable and nothing but a hindrance to any escape plan...
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| Google. 2,292.9 miles. |
It gets better. The fake general was aboard a de Havilland
Mosquito, which might have had the range for a one-way trip to Crete in the
long-range reconnaissance version which was developed for the Pacific Campaign,
and they did range all over Europe. The bomber version has a quoted range of
1,300 miles. Launched from Suffolk, the distance to Crete is over 2,200 miles.
Riddled with English bullet holes, as Major Smith (Richard Burton) says, it
crash landed, conveniently enough, ten miles away at a German military
airfield. No mention is ever made of what happened to the British pilot of that
aircraft, one supposes the prisoners were kept separated in what is standard
operating procedure.
Standard operating procedure is virtually ignored all
through this film.
Okay, upon arrival by parachute, which would have made
more sense if it had been from a Stirling bomber, or the
Halifax, both
of which were used by airborne forces, Sergeant Harrod is found dead. Assuming
all of the others were wearing the same, standard issue boots, even so, it
would have been possible to simply follow the tracks, for surely Harrod himself
didn’t make too many. Seven people come down scattered. To rendezvous with the
gear, seven (or six, to be accurate) sets of tracks converge on a point.
Searching for the missing Harrod, six sets of tracks go out from that point in
some kind of search pattern. Bearing this in mind, watching the film, we can
see any number of tracks, one of the challenges of filming on location in
wintertime. Yet Smith makes no attempt to follow any tracks. Yet he knows that Harrod has been murdered, taking into account all the bullshit about marks on the neck and stuff. Presumably the mission comes first. Presumably, they already have their suspicions of at least some of this crew already...in the film, the next to go is Jock, which tends to indicate his innocence.
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| Ingrid Pitt as Heidi. |
As for Lieutenant Schaffer, (Clint Eastwood in one of many iconic roles), we know he's innocent, as Smith points out he's an American, and brought in for just this purpose...he's untainted by Britishness or something. Right.
Bloody well right...
(Louis is getting ahead of the plot here. - ed.)
The party proceeds to a small farmhouse in a high
alpine meadow, seasonal accommodation fairly common in that part of the world.
And he says, that while grabbing the radio, he has forgotten the codebooks. He
has to go back, theoretically, for he actually did take them, this after sending the party back for the equipment. He goes out to
the barn, where he meets the Mary Ellison character, after ordering the others
not to leave the building. Yet it seems odd that not one of them ever needs to
go the outhouse, for there is no likelihood of indoor plumbing in such a
dwelling…
What is interesting is that never, at any time in the film,
do they use code. They use call-signs, broadcasting in the clear, “Broadsword
calling Danny Boy,” and all that sort of a thing.
Codes are codes. There is such a thing as a spoken
code, or word-substitution text codes, but code books were basically a series
of numbers, meant to be sent by something akin to Morse code—a series of dots
and dashes sent by clicking a momentary switch.
***
We’ll skip over the clear, physical impossibility of
leaping off the top of a cable-car and then half-running up a snow-covered
roof. It’s a dramatic scene, full of suspense and dread, and yet there is just
no way you could do it. Why would you, when you could just get some forged
documents and ride up inside the cable-car, just like everybody else.
The whole premise of the film is bogus. A lie can be
just as revealing as the truth, and this guy is supposed to allow himself to be
tortured, according to Smith, into revealing false plans for the Second Front.
I also find it difficult to believe that anyone, including a second-rate actor,
would volunteer or allow themselves to be inveigled into undertaking such a
mission. No one has that much faith, no one—as operations go, this one is awful
hairy. Think about it: you are under torture. You have fake plans for D-Day. You most emphatically do not have the real plans for D-Day. How far would you push your luck? Right about the point where they're going to slice your pecker off, that's where.
It is true that a successful disinformation
campaign was carried out prior to D-Day, much of it involving fake radio
traffic, which emanated from the U.K.
Prior to the invasion of Sicily, (see The Man Who Never
Was), there was an operation to convince the enemy, Germany and Italy, that
the next invasion would be of the Balkans—rather than Sicily.
***
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| Der Schloss Adler. I bet there's a road, ladies and gentlemen. |
Radio
rooms. Once inside the castle, Smith and Schaffer take a
look, Smith says they must disable the helicopter…Schaffer kills the guy in the
Funkraum, (German for radio room), while Smith goes out and finds the
helicopter pilot. There is literally a sign on the wall, this is for the audience to know its a radio room. He tells him there is a phone call, directing him to the
Funkraum (radio room in German), just around the corner, where Schaffer stabs
him. All very well, but the equipment in no way resembles a telephone
switchboard. There would be an internal switchboard, connected within the
castle. Outside lines would go through a switchboard down the mountain in the
village.
I may tend to jump around in this analysis, if one has
seen the film, you should be able to keep up, if you’ve never seen the film,
then reading this post is essentially useless. There is a lot to cover, and I
may not be able to hit every little thing.
Road
work. The car accident. One wonders why three prisoners
were taken to the castle via the cable car, whereas Smith and Schaffer were
taken by car, which leads to the car accident scene. One wonders why their
hands were not bound, when Schaffer moves to ‘tie up his shoelaces’, for
example. One wonders what kind of road work, in the middle of winter, involves
a piddly little cement mixer, or a few boards leaning up against the cliff, or
various little racks that just stand there. There are two piles of gravel and
some road barricades…after going out of control, the car goes up and over the
first gravel pile and then crashes into the next one. Yet somehow, they manage
to push the car back far enough, turn the wheel and then send it over the
cliff. Now they walk back to town. All of this leads up to the question of
where exactly does that road go…??? Presumably the castle. This just brings us back to question of why use the cable car at all. With good forged documents,
the odds are, senior officers would have been admitted at the gate, even if
they were unexpected. Truth is, they would have been brought in and then
checked out very thoroughly. If the road does not go to the castle, just where
in the hell were they going. A contradiction, if you will.
Himmler’s
brother. When the six survivors arrive in town, stash their
packs and enter zum Wilden Hirsh, (German for wild stag or wild hart), Smith informs another German officer that he
is Himmler’s brother. This is about as stupid as it gets, ladies and gentlemen.
A public figure in his own right, he might have been recognizable to anyone
that read a newspaper, especially considering his older brother, but also as
well as his employment at Berlin Radio.
Anti-aircraft
gun in courtyard. This is more a matter of detail. With
thirty or forty-foot curtain walls, the field of fire is severely restricted,
and this weapon really should have been put up on the walls, or even outside
the building, on a nearby hilltop, overlooking the valuable target it is meant
to protect.
S.S.
versus Gestapo. I became curious, as I often do. The
Gestapo did indeed have a full-dress military style uniform. The average
Gestapo in the civilian street
really did wear the long, brown leather coats and various civilian attire. The
psychology of a Gestapo officer wearing a uniform while surrounded by other
military types is pretty obvious, it was meant to show rank, status, and
perhaps to be taken seriously when surrounded by senior German officers. As far
as that goes, there might not be too much love lost between S.S. and Gestapo,
service rivalries being what they are in any army past and present.
***
The
so-called proof. This is where the second radio room comes in...once we get to the scene in the great
hall, where the assembled guests are comfortably seated around the table, with
General Carnaby, soon to be revealed as Corporal Cartright-Jones, once we get
past the fact that his hands are not bound, a clear violation of standard
procedures, there is the question of so-called proof. This is when Major Smith
suggests that the Germans have ‘one of the most powerful radio-telephones in
Europe’ and that they contact Wilhelm Wilner in Italy to confirm his identity.
One, the operator in the first Funkraum is dead, along with the helicopter
pilot. Two, no one has discovered the bodies, and if this is indeed the
telephone room, one wonders why no internal phone traffic, in what is purported
to be the headquarters of the S.S. or Gestapo in southern Bavaria. How come no
off-duty troopers use their privilege, pay the tolls and make a quick call home
to the wife and family. But now, we see the need for a second radio room. That
guy hasn’t been killed yet, right? And they obviously can't use the phone in the regular fashion. They're using the 'radio telephone', a real thing which actually did exist in WW II, referred to by British types as the r/t in many a book and film. Would it be possible to patch a phone line into the inputs of a radio set? Presumably, yes. The castle is described as the headquarters of the German Secret Service in Bavaria, yet seems to be populated with uniformed officers of the S.S. and Gestapo, and down below is a training camp for what are likely mountain troops...details, details.
#details
As far as the actual proof, it is of course ludicrous
and no self-respecting senior officer would ever take it at face value. The
very fact that two unknown officers come tramping down the stairs and into the
room, unannounced, would have been something of a dead giveaway. Also, telling
the enemy anything is bad practice. Yet the Germans bring in three spies to
impress Carnaby, and Smith admits he’s been feeding bad info to Willi Wilner in
Italy.
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| The poster. |
There may be more, (maybe even plenty more), but you get the flavour of it. I
have fantasized on occasion, of trying to find every Alistair Maclean book,
perhaps in the thrift stores or buying them on Amazon. River of Death might be better enjoyed as a book than as a bad
film, for example. I would love to read some of them again, that is for sure,
ladies and gentlemen.
Films of this era have good colour, there are no
computer generated images. Sets, vehicles, weapons are period, the locations
are good, the acting is good, the budget was adequate. The pyrotechnics are good. It’s got a lot going for
it, don’t get me wrong. Some guys like the Heidi character, for a couple of
pretty obvious reasons. I like the Mary Ure character, but then I’ve always
admired a girl that can shoot—that one’s more than just a pretty face.
Fighting on top of a cable-car is just plain nuts, yet
the scene is reprised in Moonraker, with
Bond and Jaws, and of course Doctor Goodhead—a real bad name, but Ian Fleming was famous for
that sort of thing.
The film is fun, full of eye-candy for the war movie buff. In so many respects, it is a very good film and probably one of the best, for war movies fall down so very, very often...that, is a story for another day.
Other than that, you can learn much from almost any
film, good or bad, if you have a jaundiced eye and a penchant for writing. One
of the reasons I wanted to write in the first place, and this is not a thing to
say lightly: because so much of film and television was just bad, ladies and
gentlemen. That was true back then, and I reckon it’s still true today.
Notes. What was the German Secret Service. The answer is complicated. Heydrich and Himmler had their own ideas and their own empires to build, but the Abwehr existed until the assassination attempt of July 20, 1944, after which Hitler did away with the Abwehr, and Admiral Canaris and Colonel Oster ended up in concentration camps, ultimately murdered in the most cruel and obscene ways.
See: Sicherhietsdienst.
END
Louis Shalako has ebooks and audiobooks available from
Google Play. Some of them are presently free, for example On
the Nature of the Gods.
Louis has some artworks on ArtPal.
My First
Pho. See this story on the #superdough blog.
Thank you for reading.
