Watson is a complex character study of an essentially aheroic man expected to provide heroics at the command of his Captain. He is troubled by the resentment he feels for being abandoned to the Army by his parents; having served his entire life he now seems to have accepted that his career has peaked out at Sergeant, thus the prim-and-proper Harris as his Captain, a man who undoubtedly was raised and educated in relative luxury, then commissioned as an officer upon entering the service, must rankle Watson terribly. The idea of class and rank being wiped out by their present predicament is quickly quashed by the supercilious Harris, who still expects himself and Watson to carry on amidst the sand dunes like a miniature version of the Army. I feel more sympathy for Watson now than I did the first time I saw this, since most of the characters are deeply flawed people, whose mistakes in life have, in no uncertain terms, led them to this very spot. Unfortunately Dorfman was correct: contacting the Bedouins only created difficulties. When Watson finally mutinies, one would think Harris might be a little gun-shy with his absurd BE histrionics, but insists on courting disaster, taking the doctor Renaud along with him. Had Watson followed his commander, he would be just as meaninglessly dead.
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