Caufman: I'm sorry General Mahad, sir, but without the munitions key -
Mahad: What's your name son?
Caufman: Uh, Caufman, sir! P-Pri-Private Tim Caufman, sir!
Mahad: Do you like potatoes, Tim?
Caufman: Y-Yes, sir. I... I... I guess so, sir.
Mahad: Good. Because if you don't find the goddamn key and have those munitions on a train by sundown, you'll be peeling goddamn potatoes for the rest of your goddamn miserable excuse for a military career!