Dig into those trenches, acost the lovely nurses, lie about bedding them and pester them day and night … wait one second … was Ernest Hemingway a creep? Goddamnit, he was a creep. Well, I have to make a quiz regardless.
Pop Quiz Hot Shot!
1) In the beginning of the film when Sandra Bullock arrives at the hospital on the Italy-Austria border they set up the hospital in what kind of building? What used to be there?
2) Why couldn’t Hemingway join the actual army?
3) In order to save Hemingway’s leg the famous nurse Sandra Bullock employed what technique developed where?
4) Ernest’s Red Cross bestie comes in with some serious injuries … like burns all over his body kind of injuries (but you’ve never looked better buddy …). What ultimately happens to him?
5) Ernie gets two things for his battlefield heroics, one from the Italian army and one from an Italian citizen. What were they?
1) It was an old convent. And let me tell you something, even if Ernest Hemingway himself walks through that door we are keeping it just as chaste. Or like … close enough, you know?
2) Because he was basically blind in his left eye. He lied about his age to try and get in, but they got him with the eye!
3) She irrigated the wound every hour or so, a technique developed at Johns Hopkins. The Italian doctor is skeptical. Is she sure this hospital isn’t St. Johns Hopkins hospital?
4) After dictating a letter to Sandra Bullock he gets a hold of a razor and slits his wrist. Ernest Hemingway, because he’s a great guy, throws his letter in the trash and takes it upon himself to write a new letter to his parents. Feels problematic, but we’ll go with romantic, whatever.
5) He gets the Iron Cross from the Italian Army for attempting to save an Italian soldier and insisting the soldier got aid before him. That soldier died, but his father, so touched by Hemingway’s actions, gifts Ernie with his son’s cape. As Henry Villard points out, Ernie then kind of flippantly wears around a dead man’s cape for the rest of the day, but you do you Ernie.
So were you a creepy creep like Ernest Hemingway, bothering the ladies until they say “I love you” and rewriting your friend’s dying letters for them? Or are you the much more normal Henry Villard, who seems to have normal relationships with other human beings?