Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: [the arrival of the tank causes consternation] Relax, boys, relax! Here's your new mount. No saddle, no bridle, no spurs, no hay. No nothing.

Sgt. Harry Ross: What's going on around here?

Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: Well, if it ain't Horse-face Harry from the Marines!

Sgt. Harry Ross: What wet rock did you crawl out from?

Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: Now is that any way for a mule's chambermaid to talk?

Sgt. Harry Ross: Chambermaid?

Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: Yeah. We're moving in.

Sgt. Harry Ross: Not in my stables you ain't. It's the last runaround that smelly steamroller's giving me.

Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: Seems to me I heard you say that in Fort Oglethorpe and Knox and Myer.

Sgt. Harry Ross: Yeah, but when this territory gets through with that portable garbage can of yours, you can slice it up and sell it for paperweight.

Sgt. 'Three Star' Hennessy: Oh, you're bitter, Harry. You're bitter. The horse is alright with a buggy behind it but these are modern times. We got telephones and aeroplanes and tanks.

Sgt. Harry Ross: Not on this post. You see, Mister Hennessy, this is the desert. And the desert means sand. Sand that you can't get a grip on. And you sink and you slip and you slide. Why the horses'll be towing that thing out of here with its tail tucked between its legs.