William Holden is a naval aviator in 1952, flying from a carrier against shore installations in Korea. His wife is Grace Kelly. His pals who fly the rescue helicopter are Mickey Rooney and Earl Holliman. The admiral who runs the show is Frederick March, who looks upon Holden as a son. Charles McGraw is Holden's immediate superior officer.
Mitchener divided his novel into three major section: Land, Sea, and Air. The movie follows suit, though it begins with an incident at sea. Holden ditches in the icy ocean and is saved by Rooney and Holliman. But we are soon ashore in Japan, where Rooney, a hot-tempered Irishman, gets into scraps of the sort often found in military movies. Grace Kelly has a small role. She must come to terms with the fact that Holden is putting his neck on the chopping block when he goes up, never more so than during the coming attack on the bridges at Toko Ri, where chances of survival seem minimal.
In fact, on this mission, his aircraft is hit and loses enough fuel that Holden must crash short of the sea. The tension is agonizing. After he plows into a field, his comrades do what they can to discourage the converging North Korean infantry, and Rooney and Holliman show up in a rescue helicopter. Their helicopter is promptly shot down and Holliman killed. Holden and Rooney find themselves alone in an irrigation ditch, surrounded by the enemy, and it is heartbreaking when their own aircraft wave their wings and leave for lack of fuel and ammunition. The ending is tragic.
Yet it's a frustrating movie. Frederick March has to give one of those discredited "why are we here" rationalizations in which he offers us a domino theory. We have to stop the communists in Korea otherwise they'll take Japan, the Phillipines, and so on. "Where would you have us make our stand? The Mississippi?" There is also one of those speeches in which McGraw, as the commander of the final flight, has to tell his fliers that if anyone wants to back out for any reason, it's his duty to do so, rather than endanger the mission. Right. Just try it.
The aerial photography is unusually good and so is the model work. Grumman Panthers were handsome aircraft. They still LOOKED like airplanes in 1952 -- they had an identifiable fuselage, wings, and a tail assembly. It's impossible to fault the scenes in which they appear.
The enlisted men are used mainly for comic relief, but, at that, they're an improvement over March's admiral. He's human enough and is meant to be sympathetic, but what a bore. "It's the wrong war in the wrong place, but you fight because this is the one you're stuck with." And he lathers personal advice on Grace Kelly and William Holden, even when it's not wanted, when it's dicey and possibly dangerous to do it -- a big know-it-all.
None of this detracts from the impact of this film though, grounded in reality, not fantasy. One of our boys doesn't necessarily lick ten of theirs. When ten of theirs oppose one of ours, the one of ours dies in a most unglamorous fashion. In many ways, and despite its lack of gore, this is a better anti-war movie than most that have appeared on our screens lately. In the end we're left with nothing but admiration for these pilots, scared and reluctant warriors doing their jobs even when the outcome is liable to be lethal to them. March puts it well at the end, when he muses to himself, "Where do we get such men?"