Lasner rounded his cigar in the stand-up tray, smoothing off the ash.

“We’re making a picture about it.”

“Who’s making?”

“I’m in the Signal Corps. We shot film there. What the newsreels didn’t.”

“You personally?”

“No, I collect the film. See it’s put together for briefings, whether we can do something more. Information length, maybe features. If not, V shorts. Depending on the footage. What you do, in a way. Produce.”

Lasner waved his hand. “And now you’re out of a job.”

“Not yet. The Battle of San Pietro got a lot of play. And the Tokyo film did okay on general release, so the exhibitors are still interested. And there’s Ike’s film coming.”

“Who’s releasing?” Lasner said quickly.

“Columbia.”

Lasner grunted.

“You know how it works. War Activities Committee-Freeman, at Paramount-assigns the pictures on a rotating basis. All the majors. It was Columbia’s turn.”

“The majors. What am I? They still think Continental’s a Poverty Row shop? Next year, we’ll outgross RKO, but me they give the training films. You know what it costs me? We get four to five thousand a reel. But we throw in the production, the overhead, the salaries for chrissake. Add it up, it’s more like seven thousand a reel and we just eat the difference.” He tapped the cigar again, calmer. “Not that I mind. You know, for the war. But you don’t hear Freeman calling me with a feature, either.”

“He will be.”

Lasner glanced up at him. “What’s this, a pitch?”

Ben leaned forward. “We’re sitting on a ton of footage. They’re setting up trials. This is what they’re all about. People need to see this. We want to work with a studio to put it together.”

Lasner shook his head. “Let Columbia do it. You think people want to see this? Nobody wants to see this.”

“They should.”

“Should. You know, Freeman asks, it doesn’t mean we have to do it. These war films-it’s all strictly voluntary. And now, after the war? Nobody’s going to make this picture.”