Shh. Baby. Shh.
You must keep quiet, darling.
The doctors are doing everything they can.
I know, but I do feel awful sick.
My eyes hurt.
I know, dear. I know.
There. Is that better?
It's just a headache, darling. And a little fever.
You mustn't be frightened.
Don't cry.
I'm not crying.
But you are.
Metro Hospital, Buenos Aires? Give me Dr. Merlin, please.
Hush!
Not so loud.
Dr. Merlin, this is Dr. Decosta in Rio de Janeiro.
Can you send us some more serum right away? We've run out up here.
We need all you can spare.
You haven't? But you must have.
How about the other hospitals there?
Oh.
Santiago? But that's in Chile.
All the way across the continent.
Oh.
Oh, splendid.
Fine, yes.
Yes, I'll do that. Right away.
- What is it? - No more serum this side of the Andes.
Operator, get me long distance.
The first night mail plane leaves Santiago in an hour.
Long distance?
Get me the Santiago Hospital at Santiago, Chile.
It will be in Buenos Aires before midnight.
European Air Mail will pick up the serum there.
And have it here before noon tomorrow.
- Thank heavens. - Yes.
Another 24 hours and it would have been too late.
Hello? Santiago?
Santiago Hospital.
Yes. Yes, of course we have it.
All you can use.
On the plane? Certainly.
Plenty of time.
Yes, we'll have it on board, I promise you.
Lucky thing this new service has started, eh?
Ha. Glad to do anything we can.
Get the Trans-Andean airport on the phone.
Make sure the mail plane to Buenos Aires will leave on time.
Tell them we have the most important package for Rio de Janeiro.
Yes, doctor.
Operator?
- Where's Pellerin, the pilot? - I don't know, not here yet.
He's due to leave right now.
Nobody knows
How dry I am
- Good. - Heh.
Here's your stuff.
Aren't you gonna change your clothes?
A gentleman should always be properly dressed to meet his maker.
Meaning whoever makes you in Buenos Aires.
What could be safer than this?
I will be returned to you in the original package.
I don't trust zippers, they work too fast.
You can trust me, I work slow.
Much too slow in these things.
Bye, darling.
What's the matter? Don't you trust me?
Should I?
If I trust you, you should.
- Do you? - Ha-ha-ha.
No. Ha-ha-ha.
You can.
You can't.
A girl in every port, I know you.
Any port in a storm.
Hey.
Okay, chief.
The inauguration tonight of night flying, comma...
...owing to the peculiar hazards involved, comma...
...demands the most rigid attention...
...on the part of every man in the organization.
The entire operation of night mail service in South America...
...is dependent on the most exact adherence to the plan laid down.
The Patagonia plane from Punta Arenas...
...is required to fly over 1500 miles of difficult country.
Yet it must arrive here at Buenos Aires before midnight without fail.
The plane from Santiago crosses the Andes in daylight.
But beyond that point, must fly in darkness.
Its arrival in Buenos Aires cannot be delayed.
There must be time for both these planes converging on Buenos Aires...
...to clear their mail...
...and transfer that destined for Europe to the plane to the north.
That plane, number 70, is to leave here promptly at midnight.
It must make connections with the French cruiser at Natal.
Every pilot, mechanic, mail handler and clerk...
...must be held strictly accountable for any failure in his work.
Well, that's all.
Make that a general order and post it.
Yes, sir.
Ship 603 calling Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires to 603, go ahead.
Comodoro in sight, on schedule.
What's the weather ahead of us?
Buenos Aires to 603.
San Antonio, clear sky.
- Moderate westerly wind. - Unlimited.
Bahia Blanca, clear sky.
Moderate. Unlimited.
Buenos Aires, dense fog, calm.
Zero. Zero.
Fog starting to lift.
Buenos Aires off.
Take him, what chance would he have...
...if I permitted carelessness like yours?
No getting away with it, Roblet. I gotta make an example of you.
Well, it's the only time. It never happened before.
I've always checked up on everything myself.
- Just this once, I-- - Once is too much.
You might have caused a crack-up, a couple of deaths.
- Loss of the mail, disruption of the service. - But I--
Please.
Look.
That's me, 1910.
First plane in the Argentine.
I assembled it 20 years ago.
I've been in aviation ever since.
You won't throw me out just for one mistake.
It isn't only for me...
- ...it's the wife and kids. - Ah.
If we weren't just starting night flying...
Sentiment can't enter in.
- I've always done my best. - Your best wasn't good enough.
That's final, Roblet.
You can't expect me to make an exception of you.
You ought to have known better what we're up against flying at night.
With mountains, and fogs, and jungles down to the sea.
Hundreds of miles with no place to land.
It's bad enough over the Andes in the daytime.
Flying blind in clouds.
Going 120 miles an hour.
Not being able even to see your own wing tips.
With mountain peaks all around you.
And air currents like elevators shooting you up and down.
Ship 24 calling Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires to 24, go ahead.
High wind, cyclone over Tupungato.
Down current just dropped me 2000 feet. Clouds caught me in a canyon.
Going around strong to the south. May be delayed.
Twenty-four off.
Pellerin, 24 reports a cyclone in the mountains.
- He's avoiding it and may be delayed. - Delayed? He mustn't be.
The European mail plane has to leave here no later than midnight.
It has to make connections with the cruiser up north.
Tell 24 if he gets in here late, I'll fine him 200 francs.
I don't care what his excuse is.
That's what you've got to do.
Ask the impossible. Demand it.
And you'll get...
Well, what you'll get.
Anyway...
More than if you hadn't asked for it.
Fabian in 603 is coming right along.
Yeah, yeah, I'll tell the operator to notify him about the cyclone in the west.
If I were you, inspector, I'd confine myself to carrying out orders.
- Oh, I beg your pardon, sir. - All right.
These storms don't come down this side of the Andes anyway.
Besides, I have enough to worry me already.
If this fog keeps up, number five will never get away from here.
- Is she ready? - Is what ready?
Number five, the Paraguay plane.
She's due to leave here in five minutes, in case you don't know it, inspector.
- What about this fog? - Bring her out.
Get the mail aboard her.
And if that pilot doesn't get off in time, he loses punctuality bonus...
...and I'll fine him 1 franc for every minute he's late.
But you can't see your hand before your face.
What do you want him to do, get away anyhow?
Of course not.
- But you said you'd fine him if he didn't. - Exactly.
Oh, where's the justice in that?
What have I got to do with justice?
A pilot has got to want to be on time.
Regardless of the weather.
Oh, that isn't going to chase the fog away.
The fog in men, it will.
It's worse than anything from the sea. They're all alike.
They're lazy, careless, easily frightened.
Every one of them.
Like a lot of children. If I'm not hard with them...
Do as you're ordered, Robineau.
Yes, sir.
How soon can you get started?
How soon can you stop scratching yourself like a dog?
That's no way to talk. I'm the inspector.
All you've got to do is to take orders from me.
What do you know about flying? Or Riviere either?
- He's as bad as you are. - Yeah.
That will cost you 2 francs for every minute you're late.
I apologize.
He's not as bad as you are.
At least he's not a stupid ex-policeman.
Three francs.
With the itch.
As president, I have the right to insist.
And we're all of the same opinion, are we not, gentlemen?
We are.
You see, Riviere, there's no use.
You're too late. The planes are already on their way.
Then they must be stopped before it gets too dark.
Fortunately, the one here has not left yet.
- Fortunately? - Oh, the risk is too great flying at night.
If there's an accident, the plane burns...
...the mail destroyed, it will spoil our record.
Well, that is your record.
Five years without an accident, not even a delay.
Oh, we're all proud of it.
But it imposes a public obligation.
- The public has come to expect that of us. - Us?
You have nothing to do with it. None of you.
Not one thing.
Every step of the way, I've had to force it down your throat.
Why, you were even afraid to fly the Andes.
If it wasn't for me, you'd still have one plane.
Running a ferry service across the river to Montevideo.
I made you exactly what you are.
Filled your pockets.
Forced you to spread out until now we cover 20,000 miles.
- True, true, Riviere. - You can't stop me now.
Yet you even try it.
I'm through with you.
I'll resign, leave it up to you.
See what you gentlemen can do.
I have never made a failure of anything yet.
And you're not gonna make this my failure now.
No, no, no. We'll not let you go.
Don't misunderstand us. We're not criticizing you. On the contrary.
But be reasonable.
After all, what does it represent, this dream of yours?
Why must we fly in Rio by night?
Because they do in Europe and the United States?
We lose time. Hours every night.
We're always held back by fog and darkness.
It's a matter of life and death to us.
The lead we gain by day on ships and railways is lost each night.
Fog, darkness...
...surrounds us like a prison.
But if walls can be driven back, I can do it.
Always the world would stop when the sun went down.
No more.
Fair gentlemen, number five takes off whether you like it or not.
And in fog. It will land in Paraguay in the dark.
I won't stop it and you can't.
In spite of you, night flying is going on.
Retiro 2046.
Hello. Hello, air field.
This is Madam Fabian speaking.
When my husband gets in, will you tell him to come right home? He'll have dinner here.
Even though it will be late.
Is he on time?
San Antonio?
Well, then he should be Bahia Blanca in an hour and 15 minutes.
Of course I know to the minute.
He's flown it often enough.
Night?
Oh, what difference does that make?
He can fly with his eyes shut.
- Is she worried? - No, but I'd be.
Buenos Aires to all planes.
Eight p.m. local weather report.
Fog is clear, full moon, wind: West, 5 miles.
Unlimited. Unlimited.
Buenos Aires off.
Ship 24 to Buenos Aires.
Buenos Aires to 24. Go ahead.
Turn on the floodlight. I'm coming in.
Twenty-four off.
- Andes plane wants the floodlight. - Right.
Well, there's one of them at least.
See that the mail's transferred to the European planes.
- You better go home and get some sleep. - No, thank you, I can't sleep.
Well, that's nonsense. There's nothing to worry about.
Everything is going smoothly. Too smoothly.
- Oh, it isn't that, but I-- - What?
Well, I-- Nothing.
- I'd rather not. - Oh, that.
That's only eczema.
Sometimes I think I'll kill myself if it doesn't stop.
Stop? A friendship like that?
I wish I had such a loyal companion.
Got a cigarette?
Sure.
Here.
Thanks.
Had a tough trip?
Know all the struts are loose?
They weren't this morning.
Have a hard time?
- Storm? - Storm is nothing.
It keeps you too busy.
Well, nothing did plenty of damage.
Air current.
Dropped me into a canyon.
Just missed the rocks.
What comes before is worse.
Everything's so quiet.
It's as if the mountains were crouching, ready to spring at you.
I never saw the air so clear.
Rocks, snow stuck out at you.
Not a thing moved.
It was almost too quiet. It was as if something secret--
Sounds silly, I guess.
Pellerin.
You're 10 minutes behind schedule.
I'm gonna fine you 200 francs.
You? You're not gonna fine me.
Riviere is.
Don't try to act so important.
You do as you're told around here, the same as I do.
I don't blame you.
You don't know what it's all about.
Silly. Everything is.
Heh. That's a fact.
You know, you're not half bad.
You're all right.
You just won't let yourself be.
Why don't you try it sometime? It's not difficult.
Yeah. Tonight, uh, would you--?
But--Are you dining alone?
What--? I'd consider it an honor.
- If I'd have dinner with you? - Yeah.
Why not? I'd do anything.
It's too good to be alive...
...in such a night.
Hello. Buenos Aires Airport?
This is Rio De Janeiro calling.
Has the Santiago plane arrived in Buenos Aires yet?
It has? Good.
There's an important package on board for us.
Will it be transferred in time...
...to the European plane leaving for Rio De Janeiro?
Yes? Fine.
Fine.
Issue an order to all pilots.
Tell them to stop turning up the motors over 1900 revolutions.
- They're ruining all my engines. - Yes.
For the love of heaven, stop scratching yourself, will you?
Yes, sir.
Well, good night.
Two men alone. Why do you wait?
I'm not going to make them buy drinks. One is a friend of mine.
All the more reason.
What do I pay you for?
Get to work.
You see? You see how easy it is?
You can even be amusing when you try.
- Hello, Auguste. - Hello.
Move over.
I'm sorry, not tonight. I'm not drinking.
- But I am. - Oh.
Then upstairs, I suppose.
I'm staying on the ground floor.
I just came from up there.
Oh, who with? Jeanette?
For the last eight hours.
Very lucky to get down too.
Eight hours? I didn't see you.
You couldn't unless you had wings.
Or have you?
No. No wings.
Well, I guess you're no angel.
But Jeanette is, I suppose.
Heh. What did you do that for?
Hey, she seems a nice sort of girl.
As nice as yours? The one you told me about?
Oh.
- You got a picture of her? - You wouldn't be interested.
Oh, yes, I would. Let me see it.
That isn't a very good picture.
She's a very, uh--
She got a very sympathetic face.
No wonder you're so fond of her.
- You must miss her. - Oh, you don't know.
All those years that I suffered so, you know?
She comforted me.
Understood.
Can't land. We'd crack up.
Get fined 200 francs. Not me.
We'll go on. Try and get under it or over it.
Oh, señora.
- You must be starving. - Heh.
- Won't you eat something? - Not yet.
- Not even a little bit before he comes? - No.
He'll like it better if I don't, so will I.
I think I'll stay the way I am.
Oh, there's a bottle of rosé left. Will you put it on the ice?
Well, this is a merry measure.
Airport supervisor, Jardin De Mendoza.
You will be granted transportation on the first company plane...
...leaving Buenos Aires for that point.
Oh, what?
From 603.
- Where's the rest of this? - Couldn't hear it, too much interference.
- This the first you've heard of any storm? - Yes, sir.
And number five's been reporting clear weather from here to Paraguay.
And Rio, Santos, Florianopolis?
Porto Alegre? What do they say?
Last I got from you, there wasn't any suggestion--
No, the storm's only in the south. It came down from the Andes.
Oh.
It doesn't matter.
Check Bahia Blanca, San Antonio. Find out their condition.
Notify every village police station. Here, the 30 of them.
Have them report weather, keep their ears open.
Find Inspector Robineau. Send him right over here.
Have the entire staff report at once.
- Tell the night crew to roust the day men. - Yes, sir.
Hit the ground. Never even saw it.
Keep at this level. Fly through it.
It's impossible to climb over it.
Find out wind velocity and direction.
We must have been driven off our course.
West, 50 miles an hour.
It's twice that up there.
Better watch themselves or they'll be blown out to sea.
Ladies and gentlemen, if you please.
I am requested to announce all employees of the Trans-Andean European Air Mail...
...are to report to their posts at once.
Thank you.
- Fabian. - Fabian.
That's that storm I ran into. You wait and see.
If he has any trouble, it's all up with night flying.
They won't even let the European plane take off for Rio tonight.
- You coming? - Not me, I'm no inspector.
You tell Riviere if he wants me, he'll find me:
Wake your husband and have him report. Be ready to take off with the European mail.
But he needs every minute of sleep he can get.
Riviere? Why does he want to see him?
Nothing's happened?
No, the plane from Patagonia is delayed...
...it'll be late with his mail from the south, and Riviere doesn't wanna wait.
He wishes to be sure that your husband leaves on time.
- What's the trouble? - Fabian, 603.
Caught in a storm.
I won't. I won't do it.
Hello.
Oh, I didn't want to wake you. I don't care what they say.
What's the matter?
- What time is it? - They telephoned.
Riviere wants to see you before you take off.
How's the weather?
Winds from the south. That's fine.
Ought to hold as far as Brazil, anyway.
It's a great night.
Just when everybody else is going to bed, you have to get up.
Get out of a warm bed and fly all night.
- I should think you'd hate it. - Ha-ha-ha.
Why should I?
It's fun flying at night.
I'll take you up sometime.
You think Buenos Aires is a big town? Ha.
Wait till you see it from up there.
Just a bundle of lights.
Heh.
And in a half an hour, I won't be able to see even the glow in the sky.
It's as if you didn't have a home.
Didn't want one.
Ha-ha-ha. Of course I want a home.
But I like flying too.
- How long will you be gone? - Oh, a week, 10 days.
That's all.
- Why are you combing your hair? - Huh?
- For the benefit of the stars? - Ha-ha-ha.
Nope. The lady in the moon.
She's much more friendly.
- I'm jealous. - Oh, it's strictly platonic.
I'm more like a brother to her.
I know how sure, how strong you are, but do be careful, darling.
Now.
Don't you worry.
Eh.
What are you doing?
Crying? Oh, darling, don't.
Come on.
I'm sorry.
I just suddenly felt lonely.
Oh, poor kid. I know I have no right to go off and leave you all alone, but--
No, no, it isn't that.
It's just that sometimes, it's as if I didn't really know you.
As if there was a whole part of you that I can never know.
Flying. The way you feel up there.
Everything about it.
It means so much to you.
And I can't ever be a part of it.
And that you...
No. Don't mind me.
Don't pay any attention to me.
I don't mind being left alone. Really.
That's right.
What are you thinking about?
Oh, sorry.
Just wondering if I'd run into fog over Porto Alegre.
Now, don't you worry about me.
Nothing is going to happen.
You're going back to bed.
Come on.
Here you are.
Good night.
- Good night, darling. - Good night.
Good luck.
- Fabian? - Just picked up a message.
He's still lost, his gasoline running low. Only has enough for 30 minutes more.
- What is it? - Fabian's plane.
They only have enough gas left for half an hour.
Then they'll have to come down.
Wherever they are.
Hello, airport? This is Simone Fabian again.
What do you hear from my husband?
Delayed? What does that mean?
Just behind schedule, that's all.
As a matter of fact, there isn't a chance--
I mean, uh, I wouldn't go keeping dinner waiting for him.
He's sure to be hours late.
She gets it, all right.
Monsieur Riviere?
I'm sorry, he's very busy right now. I can't disturb him.
Oh, but really, madam, truly there's nothing to worry about.
Why, yes, if anything happens.
Of course, of course, at once. I promise to call you.
Will you serve his too, please?
But, señora, you said it would be hours.
Yes, I know, but it won't seem so lonely.
This was to have been a sort of party...
...because it's his first flight on the new night schedule.
- Will you open the wine? - Yes, ma'am.
This is a real party, isn't it?
Music, dinner and wine.
Oh, no, no, let me pour it.
That's just right.
Just the way you like it, darling.
Not too cold. Just chilled.
I learn very quickly, don't I?
Oh, darling.
Oh, you spilled your wine.
Let me sip it for you.
Didn't I do that nicely?
It's all right.
It won't work, darling.
It's no good.
Oh, darling, where are you? Why aren't you here?
Are you lost in a storm?
Oh, I'm scared. I'm terribly scared.
I can't stand it. I won't.
Retiro 2046.
Hello? Let me speak to Monsieur Riviere.
Oh, but I must. I've got to know.
But why is he delayed? Where?
Bahia Blanca? Oh, but he should've been there hours ago.
Oh, what's happened? Call Monsieur Riviere.
Riviere speaking.
Madam Fabian? I have nothing to tell her.
No. He's behind schedule, that's all.
Tell her that and no more.
Riviere.
Of course.
The European mail must be ready to leave by midnight.
The 603 is behind schedule, but number 70 will take off regardless.
Everything must be carried out to the minute as I planned.
If there's any change, I'll decide it.
You want me to report back with the others?
Yes. Where have you been?
Well, you said I was all through, that I didn't have anything else to do.
So I went to dinner.
Oh, who?
A friend and I.
Friend? Who?
Pellerin, the pilot.
- He was very kind and-- - Yes.
Pellerin is a great friend of yours, isn't he?
Oh, uh-- No.
Oh, I, uh--I'm not reproaching you.
But remember, Robineau, you're his chief. He has to take orders from you.
You may have to order this pilot to take a dangerous flight...
...tomorrow night, any night.
If he obeys you because he likes you, you're fooling him.
You haven't the right to demand sacrifices of him.
Oh, that's right.
And if he thinks your friendship is gonna get him out of some pleasant duties...
...you're fooling him again.
He has to do exactly what you say anyway.
Sit down, Robineau.
I'm afraid I'll have to teach you a lesson.
Here, write as I tell you.
Inspector Robineau imposes the penalty stated hereunder on Pellerin, pilot...
...on the following grounds.
What grounds?
Read the book of regulations, find something. Put it in yourself.
Oh, I don't wanna do that. No, please.
Do you think I don't want them to like me?
They hate me worse than they do you.
But it's part of our job to accept that.
Any one of them is worth more than you.
More than me.
Admire them if you want to, love them even.
Never let them know it.
Take this fellow for instance.
In the Patagonia plane, Fabian, cut off by storm.
Lost, flying blind. His gasoline running dry.
It's for moments like this that we train them, harden them.
One instance of softness, weakness, and he's dead.
- Did you want to see me? - Yes.
That was a fine trick you played on me your last trip.
Turning back just because of a sudden squall.
When the weather reports ahead of you were good all the way.
What was the matter? You could have pushed through all right.
Were you afraid?
- Well? - I guess you could call it that.
If you're gonna do that in the daytime, what are you gonna do at night?
- How can I depend on you? - Might as well have been night.
Clouds were so black, I couldn't see my instrument board.
Instead of climbing the mountains, I was losing altitude.
It struck me that the engine wasn't acting right.
It was heating up and the oil pressure was going down.
- I could hear a rattle in the motor. - No, you couldn't.
- No? - No.
We checked it over after you got back. It was in perfect order.
Every pilot thinks his engine's acting up when he's afraid.
Too much imagination, that's all.
As a matter of fact, he's one of the best pilots we've got.
Plenty of guts too.
He did quite right to turn back.
Anyway, that stopped him from being afraid.
Hello?
Madam Fabian?
I thought I told you not to--
Insists?
Very well. Put her on.
How do you do, madame? What can I do for you?
I'm sorry. I can't tell you any more than that.
He's delayed by storm. We're expecting--
Oh, lost, you mean? Don't you suppose I know?
It's more than four and a half hours since he left San Antonio...
...and he only carries gas enough for five hours.
Try the wireless. Radio, anything.
- The lightning. - Never mind the lightning.
Lost... Gasoline...
We're near a storm.
Can't hear.
- Yes, sir? - Try and raise 603 by code.
Just got a few words from them over the radio phone.
I am trying, but I can't get a word through.
Fifteen minutes.
I'd hate to be in their shoes.
Get on the phone with Buenos Aires. Read it to them.
- The wires are down. I've tried before. - How about the wireless?
Too much interference. There's no chance of getting through.
The telegraph wires are still open at Bahia Blanca, get them to relay it.
Tell Buenos Aires it reads:
"Can't land, lost over sea.
Don't know how far blown off course.
Heading due west towards land.
Only few minutes gas left."
Hello? Hello?
Hello?
Who's calling?
San Antonio?
A message from 603?
Go ahead.
What?
"Can't land, lost--" Yeah.
Over what?
Oh.
Well, well, well, well.
What's the matter with all of you? Staring into space.
Haven't you got any work to do?
Huh.
Excuse me, I didn't see you.
I didn't know.
My husband, what is it? I heard you, the first part.
"Can't land, lost," you said, "over--" Over where?
- I'm sorry, madam, I have no authority. - Oh, please.
It's against orders, madam.
I see.
All right, jump.
We're doing everything that can be done.
Dinner was all ready.
It was to be a party, a celebration. Just us.
Unfortunately, we don't know just where to look.
The last message we picked up, he said he couldn't land.
He was still over the sea, but he didn't know how far from shore.
He said he'd be right on schedule.
He was so sure.
And then he didn't come at all.
And now he'll never come.
Never.
I know it.
Never.
Do you hear?
Do you know what that means?
No, of course, you don't.
All you care about is planes, motors, schedules.
When they land, when they take off.
Just a map with a lot of lights on it.
You never think about those men, the pilots.
What it's like to be lost up there in a storm with no place to land.
And their wives, and their homes.
The dinner all ready, the bed turned down...
...the flowers in the window waiting for him to come.
Stop.
Please, madame, I must ask you to leave.
I can't have you doing this.
It upsets the staff, all of us.
I'm sorry, madame, but I can't stand it.
I'm not made of iron.
Don't you suppose I know how you feel?
But I can't, I won't.
I am not going to have tears and hysterics here.
Either yours or mine.
There's too much to do.
We gotta work fast, sentiment is only in the way now.
Please. Please go.
What am I to do?
Just wait all alone...
...not hearing, not knowing anything?
Please, madame, it's difficult enough.
I'm his wife.
I love him.
Can't you see that's of no importance when there's work to do...
...when lives depend on it?
It doesn't matter...
...you'll never find them anyway.
I know it.
I can tell.
First night mail plane lost.
Read all about it.
First night mail plane lost.
As managing director, you should have anticipated this.
It defeats our entire plan.
I demand that you stop this European mail plane.
I am still president of this company.
That European mail plane is not going to go.
I order it. You cannot refuse.
You are only managing director of this company, you have no authority.
Now let me tell you something.
I started this thing and I'm gonna go through with it.
What if one plane is lost?
Suppose they're both dead.
It still doesn't matter.
The other ship came through across the Andes.
And the one from Paraguay will be there any minute now.
Isn't that proof that it can be done?
Cyclones don't happen every night.
The European plane will have no trouble.
And even if it does, I'll still go on.
You can't stop all the clocks in the world from ticking.
Enough! I won't listen to this nonsense.
I hoped to convince you, but since I can't...
...I might as well tell you that the plane for Rio de Janeiro...
...with the European mail is already gone.
You see, monsieur, as a managing director...
...I at least anticipated this.
You'd better hurry, Riviere just told Daudet the European mail had already gone.
Hmm. He'd lie, cheat or steal to keep them from stopping it.
Get the European mail out on the field, it's to go at once.
Yes. Yes, sir.
- All right, cut it. - Cut it.
- Antoine. - I couldn't help it, I had to come.
I just heard the Patagonian plane is lost.
He's done for, I guess.
Pity, the very first night too.
And they're gonna make you go anyway?
Well, somebody has to go.
There wouldn't anybody to fly if we all quit--
What's it all for?
Just so somebody in Paris can get a postcard on Tuesday instead of Thursday?
Don't ask me, darling, I'm only a pilot, I don't know all the answers.
I have to go now.
Look out.
Too much imagination.
Thinks I'm afraid, huh?
Hey, Jeanette, look.
Cigarette?
Have a tough trip?
"Just so someone in Paris can get a postcard on Tuesday instead of Thursday."
Well, it's here.
Oh? Oh!
Thank God.