This can be a toughie, because matters of war are always laden with political and moral issues apart from the actual work soldiers do… and often do against their own principals.
Oh, those rickety biplanes, all canvas and wood and held together by spit and a prayer, come taxiing out of the early morning fog and there’s the sad tin whistle music and the eager young men jumping to get up in the air and get themselves killed, and I’m a basket case from the get-go, all tears and sobby and having just the best time I can have at the movies: I. Am. Moved.
Dramatizes a bizarre moment in time with a straightforward aplomb that is devastating, that makes you wish you could laugh at the insanity and pointlessness of it but refuses all emotional response except overwhelming rage and grief.