[ Man ] My father said the army makes all men one,
but you never know which one.
He didn't know Roland Bozz.
[ Yelling ]
[ Shouting ] Get your fucking lowlife asses out of bed!
If we're not on the road in 1 5 minutes,
y'all are gonna do push-ups until | pass out.
Let's go! Let's go!
Get your socks on and get outside, you fucking pussies!
- Move! - Got all damn day!
Go! Move your ass, soldier!
[ |ndistinct Shouting ]
[ Man Singing Cadence ] ~Mr. Nixon dropped the bomb ~
[ All ] ~ Mr. Nixon dropped the bomb ~
[ Man ] ~ | don't want to go to 'Nam ~
[ All ] ~I don't want to go to 'Nam ~~
Next time it ain't gonna be no weekend in stockade, Private.
Next time it's gonna be a full-scale, motherfucking court-martial.
Maybe a couple of years' hard time in Leavenworth. How does that fly, dipshit?
This kind of reception, basic training, corrective custody.
Ain't been in the army more than three months. Most of it in the stockade.
~~[ Cadence Continues ]
[ All Yelling ]
[ Man ] Get on that fucking deuce! Get up on that deuce, boy!
Right now! [ Yelling ]
You don't need no special fuckin' invitation! Move your ass!
Push your little G.I. ass up on that deuce!
Private Bozz, Roland. No middle initial. Well, looky here.
You're on your way to infantry again, boy.
And | bet my hairy left nut they bag-and-tag you within a week.
Any man that tries as hard as you to get out of the fuckin'army...
and who's still a G.|. will never see home again!
|'ll tell you, Sarge. | don't like the rehearsal, so |'m gonna skip the show.
Fuck you! Get on that deuce, boy! Let's go!
Bozz.
I got me a buddy in Charlie Company.
Says he knows a fella by that name.
Says he's the biggest fuckup in the army.
Clownin'around, always actin'like a fuckin'bozo.
Article 1 5. Recycled through basic. All kinds of goldbrick shit.
Sounds to me, Bozz, like that fella's no more than a goddamned coward.
- Afraid ofTigerland, huh? - [ Man ] Should be fuckin'scared.
| hear they hump your ass off till it falls off.
- | heard a guy from Bravo died in Tigerland. - Oh, no, man. That's a rumor.
You afraid of big ol' Tigerland, Private Fuckup?
Read this and tell me what happens. | gotta get away from this guy,
get some fresh air or somethin'.
[ Man Yelling ] Yeah! Go for it, boy! Whoo!
Hey, boy!
[ All Cheering ]
What the fuck? Stop the goddamn truck!
Goddamn it, soldier! What the fuck is your problem?
You stupid motherfucker! Do you not got a goddamn--
Get back in that truck, you asswipe little fuck!
And the rest of you stupid motherfuckers, sit your asses down!
[ Man ] Good morning, gentlemen.
My name is Captain Saunders, Commanding Officer Alpha Company,
Third Advanced |nfantry Training Brigade.
Welcome to the infantry, gentlemen.
Now no matter where you did your basic,
either here at Fort Polk or elsewhere,
rest assured that we train the proudest,
the toughest, the best-equipped soldiers on the planet.
Now, this base is the largest supplier of combat troops overseas,
so don't let any man here start having any little pasty fucking daydreams...
about being anyplace else.
| shit you not, gentlemen.
You are headed for a two-way firing range. You will be sent to the war.
Now,you will be here with us for an eight-week training cycle.
At the end of that time, you will remain here for one more week,
when we will ship you out to an outpost ten miles from here...
that is known throughout the army as the second-worst place on earth:
Tigerland.
|t is the stateside province of Vietnam,
and it is as close to the war as we can make it.
Now, gentlemen, it behooves you to learn...
what little we can teach you here.
For if you do, then maybe,just maybe,
you will return one day to play stink-finger with little Sally back home.
All right. Let's get squared away.
Those of you not on detail will have a pass for the weekend.
Training begins Monday at 0430.
From that time on, every son of a bitch here humps his own load.
- Sucky, sucky, baby? - Oh, no thank you.
~~[ Rock ]
~Let it hang out, baby ~
~Let it hang out, now ~
~Let it hang out, baby ~
Here you go.
~Everybody work out ~~
Well, you've got a high sex drive.
- Right. - Which line says that?
| ain't no expert, but it says you're gonna have some sex real soon.
- [ Girl ] Yeah? - Mmm-hmm.
- What about me? - Sex for Sheri as well.
- [ |ndistinct Chatter] - Here you go.
- Did you read it? - No, I didn't.
Neither did I. I just keep it around 'cause it pisses everybody off.
[ Chuckles ] Jim Paxton.
Hey, let's not become friends,Jim.
- You could be dead tomorrow and |'d miss you too much. - Excuse me?
- |t's a joke. Forget it. Roland Bozz. - Okay.
This here's Sheri and Claudia or Claudia and Sheri.
I'm not quite sure yet. Ladies,Jim Paxton.
- Pleased to make your acquaintance. - Nice to meet you.
Mmm. Charmed, |'m sure.
- Let me buy you ladies a drink. - Mmm. Right on.
Four. Please. You girls from around here?
- Born and bred. You? - Upstate New York.
- New York. - Wow.
- How 'bout you, Bozz? Where are you from? - Texas,Jim.
|t's in the southwestern part of the United States.
Oh,yeah? Well, I'll double check that on the map. Thanks.
They came down on you pretty hard back in company.
|'m surprised they let you off base.
They didn't. |'m confined to the company area.
- What, you're AWOL? - Shh, man. The children.
Hmm. Well, here's to peace on earth and a cure for cancer.
- Cheers. - Amen.
Don't take it all so seriously,Jim. Lighten up.
Hey, man, all | said was... here's to peace on earth and a cure for cancer.
- You said it's a joke. - You're doin' a routine, man.
A cynically funny soldier with two girls in a bar, or somethin' like that.
Listen, man, |'m not doing any sort of routine,
and if you're gonna be an asshole about it, then fuck you, okay?
- Mmm. - All right. See now,Jim, that's not the answer.
Oh, really, smart-ass? Then what is?
Well, the answer is |'ve got a hotel room about two blocks from here.
We're gonna take these two young ladies, and we're all gonna fuck until the war's over.
Okay.
[ Groaning ]
Oh, oh, oh!
[ Yelling, Moaning ]
- Hello. This is fun. - Oh, really, really fun.
That's not bad for a couple grunts.
'' Not bad for a couple grunts.'' Who the fuck are you? Sergeant Rock of Easy Company?
And who are you playing? Absurd man in an absurd world?
Bozz, you're playing a fool who's fighting the system.
- Well, you see, there's a difference, Paxton. - Really? What?
|'m a failed fool.
[ Laughing ] Yeah? You've got a rep.
| heard you're the biggest fool around.
Well, thank you. But you see, that's it.
|'m still around and | should be fuckin' out. And |'m gonna get out.
Not me. | enlisted.
- |s this some war shit again? - [ Sheri ] Yes.
- Hey, I got the munchies. - [ Claudia ] Me too.
| wish | hadn't heard you say that. For a moment, | was actually starting to like you.
Well, you know, | thought a lot about it, Bozz.
| don't like the war. Maybe |'m even against it, but |'m not against my country.
Does this place have room service? Where's the phone?
Well, that's some pretty fancy political thinking there, professor, but...
let me give you some army-buddy advice.
Figure out a way to go. Get out. Singing while you go.
Guys, help us. We're hungry,you know?
- True, man. - You know, that's not all, man. |t's not just political.
- Like, | wanna go. | wanna see what it's like. - Thank you,Jesus.
- | want the experience, you know, taking notes on everything. - [ Laughs ]
Shut up! |'m taking notes on everything. Maybe one day |'ll write something.
You know, like, James Jones or Hemingway.
What kind of shit are you gonna write anyway?
The war is hell, men are brave and that kind of petrified crap?
Okay, man, so you've popped my fucking balloon.Jesus Christ, Bozz!
- | know a 2 4-hour place on Bourbon Street. - Oh, yeah.
[ Door Closes ]
[ Exhales, Scoffs ]
- The girls are gone. - [ Coughs ]
Yes, they are.
Okay.
[ Door Creaking ]
Hey, how ya doin'?
Keep your head down, fuckin' AWOL piece of shit, son of a bitch.
Get that bag of shit of yours in the dirt!
Private Bozz is now demonstrating the proper way to dig a hole under fire.
Under fire, gentlemen, you will fall to the earth and lie flat.
Under fire you will ask God to remove your buttons...
so that you can get closer to the ground.
Under fire you will dig a hole. You will dig it with your teeth, if you have to.
- Open your mouth. - [ Grunting ]
Now, shitbird! Do it! Eat dirt!
- [ Grunting Continues ] - Now, | don't hear you.
Yes, Sergeant! |'m still not hearing you, shitbird.
You wear a dress, Sergeant!
[ Laughing ]
- What'd you say, you piece of crap? - Go kiss my ass, Sergeant!
You little finger-fuckin', cock-suckin', piece of shit,
| will make you push Fort Polk into the sea!
Yes, sir. | already have a man in mind, sir.
[ Man ] Let's go! Move!
Eat dirt! Do it! Do it! Eat dirt!
- [ Spitting ] - Eat it!
All right, Sergeant, that's enough. Get these men moving.
-[ Whistle Blowing ] - Move it! You heard the man!
- Let's move it! Get goin'! -[ Whistle Blowing ]
Miter, you're the new platoon guy, second platoon.
Get that goddamn Bozz in line. |f it don't happen, |'m gonna be in your shit so deep,
even sweetJesus won't be able to save you.
- You understand me, soldier? - Yes, Sergeant.
Now have these men fall in and fall out.
Platoon, fall in! Fall out to your weapons!
[ Smacks Lips ]
Bozz! Bozz! Bozz!
Bozz! Bozz! Bozz! Bozz!
What the hell's wrong with you, Private? Get in line!
Move your ass, son! Let's go! Let's go!
- Move it! Let's go! - Bozz!
Get that bag of shit of yours in the dirt.
[ Chattering ]
[ Man ] That's mine.
[ Yelling ]
~ |'m still tryin' to find ~
~ | wanna take her home to my mama ~~
Platoon, listen up!
Platoon, we got a heavy day tomorrow!
Everybody hit the racks. Lights out.
- [ Chattering Continues ] - Lights out now!
[ Overlapping Voices ] You like being in control, don't you? I ain't take no shower yet, man.
[ Laughing ]
- God! Shut up! - Don't fuckin'tell me. You're talkin; so shut up.
You wanna fuck with me?
Sergeant Thomas?
Private Cantwell reportin' to the weapon shed as ordered.
Sergeant Thomas?
[ Man Yelling ]
- [ Fists Pounding ] - [ Grunting ]
[ Grunting Continues ]
[ Breathing Heavily ]
Glad you waited up for me, Dad.
| think everybody did, Bozz.
Ah, don't tell me. This is the scene where the troublemaker...
- gets beaten by his buddies, right? - Somebody got beaten.
- [ Whispering ] Cantwell? - [ Whimpering ]
-Jesus. What happened? - | think it's Sergeant Thomas.
Damn it. Did anybody report it?
Why? |t's not gonna put his face back together.
He's just tryin' to fuck around, like you.
Shit. |'m sorry this happened to you, Cantwell.
Now, there ain't gonna be no more clownin'from you, Bozz.
You hear? Now go wash up and hit the rack.
Oh, shut your cakehole, Miter. You're givin' Cantwell a headache.
Now |'m tellin' you, as your platoon guide,
that's the same as gettin' an order from the sergeant.
Don't make me put you on report, Bozz.
Jesus Christ, give it a rest. |t's been a hard day for all of us, okay?
Don't you give me a hard time, too, Paxton.
You're okay and all. You'll be a good soldier, but this sorry individual--
He wants to be a bumble fuck...
who wants to laugh at everything we do.
He's gonna put this whole platoon in a world of hurt.
Miter, what are you? Twenty years old?
Shit,just 'cause you wear those sergeant stripes don't mean you ain't gonna die,
so just stuff it, okay?
Where you goin' that we ain't, huh, Bozz?
You best start to soldiering, or it's you who's comin' home in a rubber sack.
Fuck.
Just want you to know |'ve taken a great dislike to you.
|s there anything else, Wilson?
No. | don't reckon there is.
|'m gonna tell you somethin', boy,
and this is the last chance you're gonna get to hear it.
You can't kill a dink with a ricochet.
Oh, it's all about killin' people, huh? Shit.
So you really can shoot when you want to.
When | want to. |dea of killin' things excite you, Sergeant?
Cease fire! Cease fire!
Get your target, scumbags.
[ Man ] All clear!
If you can't hit your targets, there's gonna be hell to pay.
Well, shit, | do believe that's Cantwell's target there, boys!
- Boy ain't got a single goddamn bullet hole in it. - Shut your cracker face, Wilson.
Sergeant Thomas is gonna chew my ass for chow.
[ Wilson ] You ain't gonna be makin' no phone calls home anytime soon.
Nah, you're gonna be busy, all asses and elbows pickin' up ciggie butts.
Wilson, you're a one-man campaign to make the world more ugly, ain't ya?
| ain't afraid of you, Bozz.
Yes, you are, Wilson.
- You're just too stupid to realize. - Oh,yeah?
Okay then, Sunday school. You're such a goddamn saint.
Why don't you go ahead and give Cantwell your target then, huh, pretty boy?
- |'m gonna give him yours. - Shit,you take that target, I'll kick your teeth out!
What in the name ofJesus H. Christ is the purpose of this clusterfuck?
- Wilson tried to switch targets with Cantwell, Sergeant. - What?
- |t's true, Sergeant. | saw him do it. - That's bullshit, Sergeant.
- Lie down on the ground. - Permission to--
- Now, shitbird! - Yes, Sergeant.
You know why this man is lying on the ground?
Because he's dead! He's dead!
And you can't bury him. Do you know why?
- Why, Sarge? - Because you're tagged too!
You're all dead!
You're dead because you don't know how to fire weapons on semiautomatic,
and because you don't know how to hit fucking Charlie with short bursts...
so your goddamn barrels don't overheat.
Dead because this shitbag can't hit his fuckin' target!
Any questions?
- [ All ] No, Sergeant. - | got a question, Sergeant.
|f |'m dead, how come | can ask you a question?
| know exactly what you're doin', you pissant fairy.
| want you...
and your two girlfriends here...
to report to the mess sergeant after evening chow tonight.
Get up, Lazarus. You're resurrected.
Get up.
Cantwell.
You're gettin' a lot less funny, Bozz.
That's a big ol' moon shinin' down.
- Reminds you what this hard ol' world's all about. - What? Peelin' potatoes?
Shit, it's good you talk so slow, Cantwell.
Paxton there is takin' notes.
Shit, maybe he'll put you in a book or somethin'.
Another one of his hokey characters, the '' Bumpkin Saint.''
| don't rightly know what you're talkin' about. | don't read much.
Never got past sixth grade. Got married.
Got a wife back home.
Poor little girl. She has seizures-- these spells, you know?
Four little children gotta go without a mama now and again.
Jesus, Cantwell, when did you get married? When you were 1 2?
Hell, no. | was 1 5.
We had two together. She had two previous.
I'm 1 9, but she's a mite older. She's 28.
I got a little boy who's one and a little girl who's two.
What the fuck are you doin' here, man?
Don't it strike you that's the same moon that's shinin' down,
and it's shinin' down on us here,
and it's shinin' down on that little girl who's my wife?
And it's the same moon that's gonna be shinin' down when they send us to the war?
The same moon that's shinin'down on those poor boys gettin'theirselves shot at.
|t don't strike you what that means?
How each of us is a little bit of everything,
and everything is shit.
And | know that back home, the preacher be talkin' about right and wrong,
about the Lord and God and Jesus.
But you know?
|f the Lord or God orJesus be standin' here right now,
he'd say, ''Cantwell,
you forget about all these promises.
You forget about what all anybody say,
and you forget about all them big, Sunday fancy ideas,
even what we tell you.
You just look up there.''
Did you ever see such a moon?
Goddamn it, Cantwell.
Shit, man.
Shit. Fuck. | don't even know you, man.
You're sittin' there tellin' your fuckin' stories!
You make me want to fuckin' cry! What's that about?
I mean, fuck you, Cantwell. The world is fuckin'made of pain, man.
You shouldn't even be in the fuckin' army.
You're just too stupid to get yourself out.
Well, | tried. | told 'em my predicament.
They said, ''Wait till you get to the war overseas. Complain there. ''
And you bought that?
- The man said it. - | know army regulations the way prisoners know the law.
You're a hardship discharge, man, if ever | saw one.
Okay. Look, |'ll get you out of the army.
WAF字幕组出品 大少制作
Jesus, what are you saying? You don't even give a rat's ass about him.
Jim, shut the fuck up. This is-- | know what |'m doin' here.
Just go peel some fuckin' potatoes or somethin'.
- One, two, three! - [ All ] Two!
- One, two, three! - [ All ] Three!
- One, two, three! - [ All ] Four!
[ Counting, Responses Continue ]
Who put you up to this?
Nobody, sir.
- | know my rights. - No, you don't.
Your case will not be reviewed until after you're overseas. You're dismissed.
No, sir. | don't believe that's correct.
And | believe if you don't allow me to see a JAG officer, sir,
then under the Uniform Code of MilitaryJustice,
| can file a complaint with the inspector general.
- And nobody can keep me. -Jesus Christ.
When did ''my country, right or wrong'' turn into ''fuck this shit''?
It's Private Bozz, sir. I can smell it from here.
N-No, sir. |t wasn't Bozz.
| read it... in a book.
You read it in a book?
Yes, sir.
How far'd you get in school, son?
Almost sixth grade, sir.
Well, | guess they study law early where you come from.
[ Thomas ] Sir, if I may speak frankly,
you underestimate the damage that an individual like Bozz can do.
|t's bad for the army, sir.
Haven't you heard, Sergeant? Everything's bad for the army these days, even war.
That's good! That's good! Now drive your knee through his face!
- Shove his brains through his ear. Good, Wilson. - Thank you, sir.
So, what's your solution, Sergeant?
- Shit-can him out of the army? - Course not.
- That's exactly what he wants. - Exactly.
Court-martial him. He'll snap shit then, | guarantee it.
Now, Sergeant, you know we're not gonna court-martial him.
|t'll cost Uncle Sam beaucoup dollars. Battalion will be askin' me...
why I can't keep one asshole trainee in line.
Five weeks from now, he'll be in the war,
and he'll soldier then, by God, good or bad, sure as shit.
Maybe not. Got Cantwell out, two other guys in the squad he was in.
Rich son of a bitch JAG lawyer, battalion head shrinker,
Red Cross, bleedin' heart pissed downstream on us.
That's Bozz, sir. X-ray vision for loopholes in the A.R.s.
Sergeant, we are losing a war.
The whole goddamn army is falling apart.
You want me to fiddle-fuck around with one smart-ass barracks lawyer?
| think he's something more, sir.
- |s that all, Sergeant? - Yes, sir.
What the hell you doin', soldier?
Goddamn it! Bozz, mind you, you're supposed to strangle him,
not become his fuck, fuck, fuck buddy!
Yes, Sergeant!
[ Whispering ] Pussy-fucking coward.
What the fuck you lookin' at, you bunch of no-nut sad sacks!
Get your little pussies back to work!
You try that again, you're gonna be pissin' blood, Bozz.
Now get those little pussies back to work,
bunch of sad-sacked, no-nut fuckups!
Hey, Bozz, you did well by Cantwell.
Shit, he's not even two steps from the poorhouse with a wife in the nuthouse.
| envy him. You saved his life.
Oh, shit, Paxton. Sometimes when we talk, my stomach starts to hurt.
| don't care what you say. You should feel good about yourself.
Good shit, pussy-fucking coward.
| ain't gonna be proud of myself till | get Wilson out of the army.
You know what would settle your ass, Bozz? Blanket party.
Toss a damn blanket over your head and hit you with a fuckin' rock.
Shut up, Wilson. |'ll stop this damn truck.
Both of you's gonna be walkin' the fuck back to Garrison.
You, Paxton,you think you so damn smart 'cause you from up North?
| hear them tell those Northern boys the first to go over there in Vietnam.
Yeah, but at least we can find it on the map.
- That's real fuckin' funny. - [ Miter ] Ain't nobody gonna die.
So you keep that trashy talk to yourself.
Ain't nobody gonna die? Shit, Miter, you one damn dumb cracker.
Okay, so when you come home, nigger, I'm gonna call you Mr. No Legs Motherfucker.
- That any better? - You watch yourself, mister.
| still got these stripes. Acting Sergeant.
Johnson, you'll look pretty chic with a big ol' yellow stripe runnin' down your back.
| ain't seen me a dink yet that can take my legs.
Jesus, Wilson, you're a dumb fuck.
Them motherfuckers killed the Chinese's ass.
They kicked the French's ass, and they're gonna fuckin' kick ours.
Who are you? Ask Mr. Negro Wizard?
- My brother was there in '68. - Don't make you no hero.
You know what your problem is, Wilson?
You need to listen for the pop.
Well, what-- what's the pop,Johnson?
That's the sound you're gonna make when your head comes out of your ass for the first time.
[ All Laughing ]
| thought you were a damn coward. Now | believe you're a damn Communist.
Maybe a damn faggot, alongside being a goddamn nigger.
Oh, hell, no!
[ All Yelling ]
[ Yelling Continues ]
Which one of you motherfuckers killed my truck?
All right now, you truckload of shit!
Fess up or the whole damn drag-ass squad does the airborne shuffle...
six miles back to base!
Goddamn it, shit for brains! Who did it?
| did it, Sergeant.
Good. Come on down here, boy, and bring your shit!
Rest of you sit your asses down!
[ Car Engine Starting ]
[ Yells ] Nobody saves anybody, you stupid son of a bitch!
What the fuck are you doin', man?
[ Yelling, |ndistinct ]
Charlie Six, this is Charlie Two out.
Platoon Guide Miter has properly demonstrated the use...
of the TA-31 2 field radio,
except for this, which is not in the manual.
You ever have the good luck to catch fucking Charlie,
you might want him to give you some info on where the rest of his buddies is,
only Charlie is a closed-lip bastard.
He don't want to tell you fuck all.
That's why you gotta tie his gook hands and take down his gook pants...
and grab his gook balls.
Here, Miter. Hold these.
You pinch these clips on one of each of his slant-eyed nuts...
and you juice up the radio.
That sent enough of a shock through Charlie's balls, he'll tell you anything you want.
Hell, he'll tell you the minor league baseball scores if you ask him.
- You read me, gentlemen? - [ All ] Yes, Sarge.
Charlie will tell you how his mother wipes her ass if you give him some juice.
Not only that, you'd be able to find him real easy next time.
'Cause he'll light up the fucking night.
- Hey, soldier! No one said you could leave! - Why?
- Why what? - Why would | want to do that to another human being?
What the fuck's wrong with you, platoon guide? That's one of your men.
- [ Miter Yelling ] Bozz! - Get him back here, boy.
- Bozz! - Go get 'em, boy!Jesus.
- Bozz, don't do this to me. - Get back here!
- Worthless sack of shit! - Bozz!
You can't control your own men, it is your ass! Drop trou!
W-What?
Drop trou!
Double time! Come on! Skivvies too!
Well, what do you know? You do have a pair of balls after all.
- Wilson, get over here, crank this thing. - Yes, Sergeant.
The private will now demonstrate the proper way to give information...
when connected to the TA-31 2.
See if you can tell me why you can't control your men.
See if you light up the night.
Yeah, light him up. Contact!
[ Yells ]
Never even touched ya, son.
All right. That's it. Class dismissed. Go on to your next class.
Go on!
Go on.
Hey, Wilson, looks like we're havin' roasted nuts tonight.
| didn't know you were so goddamn horny.
- [ Chattering ] [ Man ] Not too much this time.
Well, | can't wait to catch me one of them V.C.s and spark his balls off.
Gonna start with you tonight, Miter.
Gettin' all this, Pax? The crazed, sadistic soldier.
The guy who always flips out and kills people.
| even think | saw you lookin' at Miter's balls earlier, boy.
Funny there, Bozz. Funny, yeah.
You're a disgrace to the fuckin' uniform, fuckin' piece of shit!
[ Man Yelling ] Hey! What the fuck?
Get the fuck over this civilian bullshit!
What the hell is goin'on? Miter!
You better do some fast explainin', or your men in a world of hurt.
Uh, t-there was an argument, Sergeant, a-a-and...
- one of the men-- - Slipped on the soap in the shower, Sarge.
They were wrestlin' for fun, and things got out of hand.
You know the shit that happens when people live together and fuck together.
That's right, soldier. You must've just slipped on some soap yourself.
What the hell's wrong with you? Look like you just ate some frozen shit for breakfast.
N-Nothin's wrong, Sergeant.
And it better stay that way. You read me? All of you.
Goddamn it! Do you hear me?
[ All ] Yes, Sergeant!
You! You got guard duty.
Forward listening post at the edge of the perimeter.
Dig yourself a hole. Forget about chow.
Out here you're challenged on guard duty, and you do it by the book.
But in 'Nam, if you hear somethin' in the bushes,
anything, and | mean anything, you open fire.
You fire into those goddamn bushes till you kill whatever made that sound.
And when the sun comes up, I don't give a tinker's fuck...
whether there's a man, woman, child or littleJohnny from next door,
you kill it or you're not comin' home.
Just like the My Lai massacre, Sergeant?
Paxton, why don't you join your asshole buddy?
Missin' a meal would be good for your wise-crackin' ass also.
Now let's fall back in for chow! Goddamn it! Do it now!
You want to march six miles tonight?
[ Voices Overlapping ] Pick up that fuckin' weapon. Fucking weapons at ease!
[ Moaning ]
[ Bozz ] Feel like |'m diggin' my own fuckin' grave here, man.
[ Paxton Groaning ] When | was a kid,
| used to think | could dig my way to China.
Yeah, you watch too many cartoons,Jim.
Maybe if we dig long and hard enough, we can tunnel our way out of this dump.
Why don't you?
My arm's too tired.
No, really. Why don't you get yourself out of the army?
[ Spits ] |'m not that brave.
Well...
|n that case, |'ll just have to bury you myself.
[ Laughing ]
[ Sniffling, Crying ]
[ Machine Guns Firing ]
Move over there! Move over there, Bozz!
Stay the fuck down!
[ All Yelling ]
Stay the fuck where you are!
- No, you gotta move it! You gotta move it! - Stay the fuck down!
They're firing in our path!
Stay down! Stay the fuck down!
- Move it! Move it! - [ Sergeant ] Cease fire! Cease fire!
Miter, what the hell's wrong with you?
When your men are told to move out, goddamn it, they move out!
When they're given an order, they're supposed to jump, snap shit.
- Do you read me? - [ All ] Yes, Sergeant!
The M-60s were fired directly across our path. They would've cut us in two.
Who gave you permission to open your fuckin' mouth? Miter is the platoon guide!
Goddamn it, Miter, you gotta flank that M-60! |s that clear?
- Yes, Sergeant. - Miter, if you don't want these dumb-ass bitches dead,
you wouldn't take 'em down the belly of a pig...
with a 7 62 waitin' to spit their fuckin' skull!
You flank the objective! Flank the objective! Do you read me?
- Yes, Sergeant! - Now get these fuckin' men out of the hole!
- Move it out! - Stay down! Stay down!
Stay down!
Goddamn it, what did you say, you maggot-brain son of a bitch?
- | said stay down. - Miter, you get these men out of the hole right now!
- Goddamn it! Do it! - Move it! Come on, goddamn it!
- Move it! - Stay down! Trust me.
Are you stupid enough to fuck with me, boy?
Tomorrow back at base is you, me and the captain.
And if your insubordinate ass ain't in the stockade by midday chow,
then |'m gonna take you out and kill you myself!.
Shit.
You're not gonna kill me, Sergeant.
| don't know what you're gonna do to me, but you're not gonna kill me.
Fuck.
- Goddamn you, Bozz! - [ Thomas ] Get your fucking asses out of the trench!
Don't you turn your back on me, goddamn it! Get your ass back over there!
| understand your position. | ain't tryin' to fuck things up for ya.
| know you got your army to run, your people to kill and shit.
|'m just not part of it.
- Nobody quits the army, Bozz. - Well, |'m not quittin'. |'m just not playin'.
What's your first name, Sergeant?
Ezra.
Here, can | offer you a smoke?
[ Men Yelling ]
You give me a fucking answer...
'cause that doesn't fucking do it!
That doesn't fucking do it! Give me a fucking answer!
Fuck!
Now you listen to me, son.
|'ve been to where you're goin'.
Now, over there, you go from livin' to dead awful quick.
What |'m tryin' to teach you may save your worthless life.
Maybe. So | tell you what.
|f you snap shit from now on and soldier like | know you can,
- |'ll forget all about this. - | can't.
Shit, even if | wanted to, |'m not there anymore.
What kind of bullshit statement is this, Bozz?
Ezra, no. |t's just me.
Okay, Bozz. All right. |'m gonna let you go.
But back at Garrison it's you and the C.O. |'m out of it.
Soldier, this army's gonna come down on your ass hard.
Both feet. You know that, don't you?
They're gonna push through your papers and send your ass where they're dying this week.
|s this a trick?
You tryin' to make me a hero or somethin'?
Nope.
Well, good, Ezra.
Now you get your ass up and join these men right now.
You're a big fucking baby! Get the fuck outta my face!
- [ Man #1 Yelling ] Miter! - [ Man #2 ] What's he doin'?
- Sergeant Landers! - Goddamn it! What is it now?
Miter! Miter!
That's enough, Sergeant!
Don't you fuckin' run, shitbag!
[ Groaning ]
Come on. Time to go home,
soldier!
| said that's enough! Let's go.
Goddamn it! You men will learn to soldier.
The next sorry dick that tries a stunt like that...
will get my size 1 4 Deltas so far up their ass they'll choke on my boot heel!
- Do you understand! - [ All ] Yes, Sergeant!
You, Paxton!
- How many years of school have you had? - Two years of college, Sergeant.
You're the next platoon guide. Now put that man under arrest.
Uh, they didn't teach us how to do that in college, Sergeant.
Are you some kind of fucking idiot, Paxton?
You inbred retard, you don't know how to do a goddamn thing, do you?
You walk over, you tell the man he's under arrest,
he's confined to barracks, that he will not leave the area.
- Then you get a card table and you set it up at the door. - Why, Sergeant?
So a guard can sit there, you backed-up, sperm-brain college boy.
You're fired as platoon guide, you dumb-ass dipshit.
- You think it's funny? Goddamn it! - No, Sergeant! No, Sergeant!
Give me ten! Give me ten! You think it's fuckin' funny!
- Wilson! - Yes, Sergeant.
Get a card table. You're on guard.
G-Guard, Sergeant?
You heard me, Private! You want these 1 4s up your ass?
No, Sergeant!
Bozz, you're the new platoon guide.
Now you put that piece of shit under arrest,
and you tell these men to get their haircuts.
Every swingin' dick.
Congratulations, sweetheart.
Sorry about that,Jim.
- Oh, man. - You jealous?
Miter, how you doin', man?
[ |ndistinct ]
Okay, guys, | ain't takin' any of this fuckin' shit seriously.
All I ask is that you do what you have to do so we can live together.
|f any of you motherfuckers are gonna run off and hide, you let me know.
You can't do this, Bozz. You ain't got the right, you bleeding-heart son of a bitch.
|t ain't your army. You hear me?
Sit the fuck down, Wilson, at your dumb card table, punk.
- [ All Laughing ] - [ Man ] Hey, fellas! Hey!
Look, all | know, fellas,
is that no one's talked to me like that since | got in this goddamn green, mean machine.
[ Man #1 ] Damn right. That's right.
- [ Man #2 ] I can attest to that. - So, yeah, Bozz.
- See what happens, baby. - Why not?
What else are they gonna do? Send us to ''Viet-fuckin'-nam''?
- [ All Laughing ] - Little late for that shit.
Say, Bozz, can I get a weekend pass?
Put your panties away, your mother's panties.
I know they your mama's panties. You haven't been laid in two or three years.
Fuckin' cock.
Miter, babe, you gotta lay still.
Miter, babe, you gotta lay still, man. Take a deep breath.
Take this shit off.
[ Breathing Heavily ]
You gotta relax.
- Shit, you gonna run again, Miter? - Yeah.
| hear there's people in New Orleans help me get to Mexico.
Yeah, well, it ain't that easy. The army's got men.
- Their whole job's to look for people like you. - | don't care.
You know, they'll catch you, they'll bring you back here and they'll put you in prison.
You best move, Bozz. Don't make me have to thump ya.
Shit, you want to go to military prison? That's not the kind of crazy you are.
[ Whispering ] Shut the fuck up.
Miter, calm the fuck down. You're gonna wake up Wilson. You don't want that, Miter.
[ |ndistinct ]
Oh, shit. What are you gonna do now?
|'m gonna bust my hand. |'m gonna bust my hand.
- Shit, man, that ain't gonna work, Miter. - Watch!
| said that ain't gonna work, Miter!
Come on, Bozz. Bust my hand. Bust it and they'll have to let me out, right?
|t ain't gonna fuckin' work.
Come on, Bozz. Break my goddamn hand so | can go home.
You know what | am, Bozz? |'m a butcher.
- Yeah, we all butchers, Miter. - No, |'m a real butcher.
- You haven't killed anyone yet. - Goddamn it, Bozz, | mean a real butcher.
Back home | cut meat and do it damn fine too.
| did it in high school, did it after high school.
I can cut you a piece of meat so clean, it'll have you prayin'to be a steak.
I'm a good butcher, Bozz.
That's all | ever wanted to be.
You laughin' at me?
No, Miter. | ain't laughin' at ya.
My wife, she laughed at me, my daddy, too,
'cause | didn't make no money.
| was just a store boy. That's what my daddy said.
'' Hey, store boy. Hey, boy.''
He callin'me boy all the time. You imagine that shit-kicker?
Shit-kicker callin'me boy all the time. I ain't a boy, goddamn it!
Tellin' me how he's a big, fancy war hero and all.
And my wife, that little--
My wife.
She's pretty.
Prettiest girl in Lake Charles High.
Prettiest girl in the state of Louisiana.
She married me 'cause | was... workin' all the time.
Givin' her the money... for junior college.
| know that, like-- | know later on,
she was seein'one of them fucking college boys on the side.
Goddamn it. And my daddy said it.
He said, ''See? See what a dumb-ass bastard you are?
Blinded by the beaver, store boy.
Well, you oughta have one of them little rings put through your nose.''
So what? You thought you'd join the army,
kill yourself like a real man, huh?
Bozz, | know you can get people out.
Maybe.
Even in this wild-ass nonsense, every so often, some rules fly by.
Please, Bozz.
Please get me outta here. Please?
[ Whispering ] Please, Bozz?
[ Man ] Left, right. Left, right left.
[ Man, Indistinct ]
- Well, looky here. - Goddamn.
Boy, the captain sure didn't want to let me go at first,
but | did just like you said.
| told 'em the army regs. Wanted me to see the base psychiatrist.
- And that was it, huh? - | just wanted to thank you personally.
Doctor's sending me on a month's leave.
Gonna contact the Red Cross, get me out-processed so's | don't have to come back.
Well, good, Miter. Glad to hear you're nuts, man.
- Best of luck, Miter. - Thanks, Paxton.
- Miter. - Take care,Johnson.
Thanks again, Bozz.
- So long. - [ Bozz ] Go be a butcher, Miter.
Hey, you try not to get shot. Hear?
Yeah. Don't let your meat loaf, man.
[ Whispering ] Yeah. Fuck you.