1 MAN (over radio): They're taking fire from the woods. They're waiting for the tanks. Enemy fire from our right flank. (fading): I say again, our right flank. Sergeant Humphrey just showed up. Have you any information on the right flank? Culture, that's a negative. Move. This is Able 2. The enemy is in that church. They threw one at us when we drove by. Negative. It's all over! Able 2017 Come in, come in. Do you read me? Do you read me? (wind blowing) (tense music builds) (distant chanting) (tense music) (tense music continues) (grunts) (yelling, groaning) (horse snorts) (eerie music) (horse whinnies) (metal clattering) (heavy breathing) (buzzes) Son of a bitch! (heavy breathing) Did you get that fucker? Knocked him off. Gordo, stop. Leave him rest. Uh-uh. Gordo, he's dead. He's dead! Show some respect. Leave him alone. It's your fault! Goddamn it. Ain't you done yet? Oh, you got no right to be fucking sore with me. Quit fucking riding me. I ain't riding you. If I was riding you, you'd know it. More where he came from. Hey, fuck you, Don! It's your fucking fault we here. GORDO: Are you still talking? Let's get out of here. Boyd! Aah! Fuck! What the fuck you do that for? (muffled): I'm trying to fix it! -You know why. -You want to fucking whup me?! It ain't gonna fucking help anything! - (radio static) - Probate, Fox 6. I say, why you always whupping on me? 'Cause you're an animal, a dog. All you understand is the fist and boot. Don, I'm telling you right now, don't fucking call me that. I ain't a fucking animal. I ain't a fucking dog. Vamonos, cabron, vamonos. Hey, you want to talk Mexican, join another tank, a Mexican tank. This is an American tank; we talk American. Who put the fucking nickel in you, top? You talk Kraut! You talk German! I can't talk Spanish? -Bible, what country we in? -Germany. Germany, they speak German. Could you explain to him it's a tool of war? It's a tool of war, Gordo. Bah, here's my tool of war. -Top. -You knew German before we got in this fucking war! Don't play stupid with me. I expect all of you to pull your shit together. I wish you'd stop ragging on everyone. You didn't kill Red; Germans did. That is true, but I didn't save him, either. His number came up, that's all. We've been lucky till now. -We've been lucky? -Yes, sir. - We're all alive. We're in here. - God's grace? (distant rumbling) Rain's coming. (thuds, rumbles) Coon-Ass, anytime, sweetheart. I'm your sweetheart, right? (groans) Okay. Gordo, crank her up. (engine whining) Choke her up. She's cold. There's condensation on the plugs. -(engine whines) -(loud rumbling) Fuckers! (engine revving) All right, move out. Get us out of here. Bible, gun front. Roger. (whirring) (dramatic music) (explosion) (tense music) (eerie music) (eerie music continues) (men screaming) -(bleating) Get those cases out of here! (distant explosions rumbling) I thought you were dead. Devil watches over his own. -Binkowski. -Good to see you. Don, glad you made it back. DON: Crew still together? Nate? Lindburgh? Doing well. Good. -BIBLE: Grab his arm. -COON-ASS: Here you go. Okay. BIBLE: Put him down. Lay him down. Move. Set him down soft. Sergeant. Sergeant. -MEDIC: Lift. -(groans) Where's the rest of Third Platoon? We're it. COON-ASS: Hey, Boyd? Hey, Boyd, they... they gonna send him home, right? BIBLE: I don't know that, Grady. Red's got us all a little sad right now, but we got a job to do. Grady, you stock ammo and rations. Gordo, water and gas. Boyd, get some chow and do what you can about the mechanical issues. We can't do shit about mechanical issues. Where you going? (panting) (feet marching) (feet marching intensifies) (sombre music) (sombre piano music) First Sergeant Collier? Maybe. What the fuck are you? Private Ellison. I was told to report to you. I'm your new assistant driver. No, you are not. Yes, yes, I am. Goddamn it. Who told you this? Master sergeant with the clipboard. -Bullshit! -Right there. He's r... (panting) What's your name? Norman. How long you been in the Army? Eight weeks. (sighs) That's home. Do as you're told. Don't get too close to anyone. BIBLE: # On a hill far away # - (sighs) - # Stood an old rugged cross # - (groans) The emblem of suffering and shame # I love the old cross # Where the dearest... # I will cling to the old rugged cross. # Hi. Hi. I'm Norman. Which... Which way is the front? "Which way is the front?" Hmm. All around us, kid, 'cause this is Germany. We're surrounded by Krauts. - That right, Grady? - COON-ASS: That's right. Can I please have my book back? GORDO: Where are your cigarettes? I don't smoke. You're a bastard. You go to tank school? Tank school? No. I've never even seen the inside of a tank. I'm a clerk typist. Was heading to Fifth Corps HQ; they pulled me off the truck. They sent me here. It's got to be a mistake. COON-ASS: Mistake? Army don't make mistakes. It wouldn't do. You from Missouri? No. - Are you from Chicago? - You from Arkansas, ain't you? -No, I'm from Pittsbu... -Hey, hush up, man. Nobody gives a fuck where you from. (laughter) Are you a praying man? I go to church. (sniffs) Which denomination are you? Episcopalian? Yeah, you are. You're a Mainliner, ain't you? Yeah. I am. Are you saved? -I'm baptized. -(Coon-Ass chuckles) -That ain't what I asked you. -That ain't what he asked you. -Gordo, what'd I ask him? -See, you got to listen. -"Are you saved?" -Are you saved? Wait until you see it. See what? What a man can do to another man. COON-ASS: Before you find Jesus, why don't you come take a look at your seat? That's where you're gonna be. Get a bucket of hot water from the kitchen. Get that shit clean. (heavy breathing) (distant rumbling) (panting) (sighs) Oh, fuck. Fuck. Weren't supposed to be no more Tigers, Don. Tell my platoon that. BINKOWSKI: You send five tanks out. One comes back. It's hard to believe we're winning the war. (rumbling continues) -(coughing) -Stop talking about yesterday's fight. Let's think about today's. (vehicle approaches) (panting) (melancholy music) -Straighten out! -Hey! What's an SS doing here? Hey, why are you bringing him through here? Why isn't he sleeping? G2 wants a prisoner to question. Oh, I'll question him. (speaks German) -Get back! -Beat his ass! -Stop! Stop it! (indistinct arguing) DON: Fucker! -Fuck him up, Don! -Motherfucker! Get the fuck... Get back! -Go! -Fucking tankers. It's me, it's me. You got MPs everywhere. You got to stop now. -Just stop. -I spilled my fucking coffee. -Cocksuckers. -Come on, Grady. Fucking SS. GORDO: You good, top? Bringing him through this camp. (panting) You see that? He's an SS. You kill every last one you can. They're real assholes. Fuck every last one. They started it. -We finishing it. -That's it. Done much killing? No. You will. -Boys, take him through that gun. -Roger. -Wh-What do I do with this? -"Wh-What..." Shut up. Take a look at it. -See that cover? -Yeah. Open it. And now you killing. Close it up. Now you ain't. (chuckles) LIEUTENANT (voice-over): Main unit's punching east. We are going north on a flank guard mission. We'll tie up with Baker Company from the 41st. Sergeant Collier's with us now. He'll be acting platoon sergeant. Fine by me. Good to have you, Don. We're meeting Baker Company here. Then, together we'll take this town. After that, we're working for Captain Waggoner. Any questions? I got one question. Peterson? I'm Binkowski, sir. Uh... you start shaving your face? First Platoon, mount up! Move out! (distant rumbling) War's not going anywhere, sir. You heard him. Mount up! (tank engine rumbles) (dark, moody music) (music intensifies) Hey! - Go fuck yourself, Wardaddy! - Coffee's too hot. - Still owe me 40 bucks! What'd he say? Mount up! Let's go, gents. Move front! COON-ASS (chuckling): Motherfucker. 1 DON: Okay, guns ready. MAN: Good luck, gentlemen! (eerie music) (eerie music continues) (rumbling) All right, there might be a wolf hiding in the sheep. Kid, you're up. Cast an eyeball on them. (over radio): Anything that makes a move, you cut them right in half. People are in the way, that's their problem. You do what you got to do, copy? NORMAN (over radio): Copy. You copy? I copy. Gordo, talk him through that gun again. GORDO: Roger. Hey, gun's ready. Just pull the trigger. Every five rounds is a tracer so you can see what you're hitting. And remember, short bursts. That way you harvest more meat per bullet. (collier speaks in German) (continues speaking in German) (continues speaking in German) (sombre music) She'll let you fuck her for a chocolate bar. That's not true. It's not true? No. Okay. It's not true. It's completely fucking true. (over radio): Or just give her some smokes. You ain't got to fuck around and give her a whole pack, neither. -Norman, ignore him. -Fucking four will do it. Don't disappoint Christ, now. Don't let them lead you astray. You see, we can kill them, but we can't fuck them 'cause it says so in the Bible. BIBLE: Stop, all right? I'm done trying to convert you heathens. You mind if I continue invading Germany? Boyd, do you think Jesus loves Hitler? Do I think Jesus loves Hitler? I'd assume so. Hitler accepted Jesus into his heart and got baptized, he'd be saved. It ain't gonna save him from man's justice. What about your regular-issue Nazi line trooper? -No, I'm not gonna do this with you. -Is he going to Heaven? We've been talking about the same dumb shit for three years. You know how I stand on it. You trying to rile me up now. Hey, what about me, huh? You think you could save me? -Sing me a hymn? -Yeah, sure. -Sing "Old Rugged Cross." -# On a hill... # I like the way your mouth moves when you sing. I like it. -Don't. I'll sing it if you don't do that. -Let me just touch your moustache. -Don't fucking touch me. Stop, Grady! -I just want to touch your moustache. - Why does that bother you so much? - Stop or I'll shoot you. - I'll shoot you, I swear! - All right, knock it off, knock off the horseplay. Boyd, do you think Hitler'd fuck one of us for a chocolate bar? (laughter) I hope so. (laughter) (planes rumble loudly) (indistinct chatter over radio) (explosion) BIBLE: Ambush! Right! Right side, ambush! -(indistinct shouting) -Fuck! Grady! You watch that tree line! We're ripe for an ambush! -(screaming) BIBLE: Grady, cover right! (screaming continues) LIEUTENANT: Father! (screaming) DON: What'd you see, Boyd? COON-ASS: Just go out and blast them little fuckers! -Grady, you see it? -I don't see nothing. (tense music builds) Norman! You cocksucker. - Why didn't you take the shot? - He-he was just a kid. I'm sorry. I'm really sorry, Sergeant. You see what a kid can do? Look! That's your fault. That's your fucking fault. Next German you see with a weapon, you rake the dog shit out of him. I don't care if it's a baby with a butter knife in one hand and mama's titty in the other. -You chop him up! -Yes, Sergeant! (Norman groans) -Bible? -Yep? (panting) All tanks, Wardaddy. (sighs) Looks like I'm it. I'll lead the column. Let's get us where we're going. (engines starting) MAN (over radio): We have this thing set up and on the way. I sent over a couple men to keep contact, and the officers have been briefed. (distant whoosh, rumbling) (rapid gunshots) DON: Stop right here, Gordo. Baker Company? Yes, sir! I'm not a sir. Me, neither. -Where's your boss? -Dead. Who's in charge of this column? -I am. -Good. I'm talking to the right man. Park it over there. Old Man's waiting. (airplanes passing overhead) (explosions rumbling nearby) MAN: With due respect, sir, don't tell me how long my casualties can last. Unless you want to come down here, stand knee-deep in their guts and form an opinion. Baker 6 out. Pencil-pushing motherfucker. How you doing? Load the casualties into a truck. We're gonna drive them back to base ourselves. We take care of our own. Come with me. Hey, wake up! All right, how many tanks we got? Four. Four? You're shitting me. I asked for ten. Miles! Sergeant Miles! Yes, sir? Get First Platoon ready. You're working for him now. If they can stand, they're in play. Roger. All right, here's the deal. I got a platoon trapped in this beet field by machine guns. I sent my tracks in. Jerry took them out. So, anti-tank guns there, there, possibly there, I don't know. I need you to rescue my guys. Take the guns out. I can do that. All right, that clears this road into town; you push forward. I'll join you there. We'll clear it up. Maybe they'll surrender. Maybe they'll fight. (sighs) This high ground, you got any eyes on it? I had eyes there, gone. There, gone. We're flying blind. It's you and me. Krauts got sights on this road. I don't want to show my flank. Any objection if I come in here? You can arrive on a fucking magic carpet, for all I care. I know who you are. I know you know what you're doing. You just pace them hard for me. They murdered some good boys out there today. Why don't they just quit? Would you? We got a platoon pinned down in this field by MGs. Krauts got anti-tank covering the field. And once we cross this hedgerow, we will be in range and in their line of sight, so be alert. Hit anything that fucking moves. Yeah, unless they pound us first. If they do, we'll know exactly where they are. Let's get these boys out of there and smash those guns. Then we'll capture the town, stop for the night. -Clear? -Why are we rescuing kittens instead of just driving down into Berlin? -Why are you such an asshole? -That's a great question. March order: Fury, Old Phyliss, Lucy Sue, Murder Inc. Let's go. MILES: All right, fuck sticks. -Mount up! By squad! -All right, mount up! DON: All tanks, comm check. PETERSON: 1-4's up. DAVIS: Love 1-3 copies. DON: Everybody get a hold tight! All tanks, Wardaddy. When we hit open ground, line up on me. (over radio): Keep your spacing; don't bunch up. On my signal, we'll drop the doughs and roll up that 75. -Everyone copy? -Love 1-5 copies. Wilco. -Copy. -Love 1-3 copies. DON: Gordo, halt. All tanks halt. All tanks halt. (engine revs) All right, let's get the boys off. Get them off. Give me last man. MILES: All right, ladies, you heard the man. -Button up. -Everybody off! Move out! Move! Everybody off! Close your hatch. (indistinct overlapping chatter) (indistinct radio chatter) DON (over radio): All tanks, move out. Hard right. Hard right. -Move 'em out. BINKOWSKI: Hard right. Hard right. PETERSON: Fury's going. Let's go. BINKOWSKI: Move, move, move, move, move. -PETERSON: Let's move now. -A hard stick right. BINKOWSKI: Everybody hold yourself. Jiggs, hold on. -Form in. Form in. -Catch up with the Fury. -Stick right. Now, catch up. -On my line, guys, on my line. -More gas. More gas. Pick it up. MILES: Keep them low! BINKOWSKI: Hold your line. We're already drifting. Binkowski, keep an eyeball on that high ground. Right. BINKOWSKI: Love 1-5 copies. Wilco. Watch that tree line right there. Hold that, hold that. (eerie tense music) -Ride on, ride on. -Hold tight. We're gonna bust through this shit. - PETERSON: All right, here we go, men. - Left stick, left stick. -It looks perfect, Tim. -Good? Straight on, straight on. Doughs on the ground, doughs on the ground. Keep an eye out. -Straight, straight. -Over here! DON: Gordo, slow, slow, slow. GORDO: We got bodies. Stick left of me. -Bodies on the floor. -Get up. PETERSON: Fall in! Fall in! BINKOWSKI: Straighten it out. -Watch your fucking spacing. -Gunner, left stick now. All right, let's hold up. If I say hold back, hold back. Hold back. -Left stick. Left stick. What the fuck? -Come on! SOLDIER: Company, clear on the right. -Let's go, let's go, let's go! -Clear it up and book it. PETERSON: Speed up just a little bit. Love 1-3, right stick! Right stick! You got troops on the ground. DAVIS: Fuck, right stick! Right stick, goddamn it! -Get your head out of your ass! -They weren't fucking paying attention. Get in tight. Tight! Down! Stay down! Down! (frantic shouting) -What the fuck is that? -Whoa! (bullets ricocheting) Bible, hit that machine gun. (over radio): Traverse left, 800! Steady! -On. Fire! -On the way! BINKOWSKI: Good! Hit them! Hit them! Look forward! Look at your periscope! -Bible, traverse back. On. -Periscope! -Clear! -Fire! On the way! (frantic dramatic music) DON: Cease fire. Target destroyed. -(laughs) -Roger, Ester, Wilco. Fire! Fuck! Anti-tank! H.E.! Traverse left. (over radio): Let's go. Traverse left. BINKOWSKI: Traverse left! (tense action music) (shouting in German) PETERSON: Just a ricochet. We're okay. Bullshit! That's a Kraut high-velocity gun. I can hear it whistling. PETERSON: Anti-tank! Left front, left front! Got it! Down 15. -Clear! -Steady! -Fire! -On the way! DAVIS: 600. BINKOWSKI: Fire! -Clear! -On the way! Okay, cease fire, cease fire. Target destroyed. Fire! There's another gun! Who's got eyes on it?! Eyes up, everybody. Fire! BINKOWSKI: I don't see shit. - Where the fuck are you at? - DAVIS: Anti-tank, H.E. Got it! Anti-tank, H.E. Traverse right! PETERSON: Anti-tank. Left front, left front. 600. DAVIS: Right stick, right stick. On! Fire! On the way! PETERSON: Hit 'em, hit 'em, hit 'em. Fire! (explosions, indistinct shouting) All tanks, start squirting that tree line. Let's light them up. Let's go. Let's clean it up. Everybody squirt the fucking tree line. (rapid gunshots, indistinct chatter over radio) GORDO: Hey! Hey! Start shooting! - Well, what do I shoot at?! - The Nazis, dumb fuck! (gunfire) DON: That's it. Keep their fucking heads down. (clicking) I got to reload! (indistinct shouting, gunfire) DON: Panzerfaust! -Hey! Get him! Hit him! -I'm loading... -I'm loading the gun. -Got him. Do your job! -Do what you're here for! -I was loading the gun! Machine gun, twelve o'clock! Gordo, run them bastards over! All tanks, hold here, hold here. Get your boys in the fight! MILES: Fall out! March and fire! (screams) Come on! Hey, squirt those Krauts on the left. Do you see them? MAN (over radio): Will Actual, come in. This is Vicious. Krauts in the woods to your... All I see are dead bodies. How do you know they're dead? Are you a doctor? -Hit them! -But they're dead! Why would I shoot them if they're already dead?! -So they don't stand up and shoot us in the ass! Get them! -Fuck! Fuck! I can't fucking be here any-fucking-more! DON: Turn your goddamn intercom off if you're gonna bawl like that. GORDO: I got it, top. I fucking give up. I fucking give up. I can't be here anymore. This ain't pretty, you know. This is what we do. -Boys, fight on foot. -You take it. (distant rapid gunfire) I'm okay. (slow, sombre piano music) (piano music continues) You're all right. Close your eyes, son. Close your eyes, son. Do you believe in Jesus? You're all right, then. You're all right, then. I'm gonna pray with you now. Our Father, who art in Heaven, (voice-over): hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on Earth as it is in Heaven. Give us this day our daily bread and forgive us our trespasses as we forgive those who trespass against us. Lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For the kingdom, the power and the glory, forever and ever, dear Lord. Amen. 1 (panting) I had the best bow gunner in the entire Ninth Army in that seat. And now I got you. I promised my crew a long time ago I'd keep them alive. You're getting in the way of that. I'm sorry. Okay, I am trained to type 60 words a minute. I am not trained to machine-gun dead bodies. I am trying my very best. (indistinct shouting) Where'd you get that U.S. Army coat? Where'd you get it? Huh? Who'd you kill, boy? - Where did you get that coat, boy?! - (soldier speaks in German) Who did you kill? (soldier speaks in German) -Who'd you kill, boy? -DON: Sergeant! Hold on! -Back it up, boy! -Hold on. -Hold on! -Back it up, boy. Norman! Get out here! Norman, come here. Come on, son. (man speaking German) Huh? -I can't hear you. -Wait. DON: Sergeant. Call your dogs off. (Don speaking German) You are no goddamn good to me unless you can kill Krauts. Put a big fat hole in his back. Put a big fat hole... in his fucking back. No. Why the hell not? It's not right. - (Norman whimpering) - "Not right"? We're not here for right and wrong. We're here to kill them. Why are you here? You're here to kill him. You know why he's here? He's here to kill you. - (speaking German) - He's here to kill you, Norman. He's here to rip your throat out with a bullet. -Go to hell. (groaning) I'm trying to teach you something. You here to get me killed? -No. -You gonna get me killed? -No. -I need you to perform. Just get it over with. Just get it over with. -I can't do it. -Yes, you can. I know you can. He kills you, or you kill him. Simple math. You or him. Pick. -Just kill me. -Come here. Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! Kill me! Please! I can't do it! (groaning) Fucking stop! - (gasping): Please stop. - (soldier pleads in German) - Oh, no, no. This is the easy part. - (groans) What the hell?! -All right. -Fuck. (whispering): Please don't make me do this. Don't make me do this. It's all right. One, two... (sobbing, shouting in German) Do it, Norman. Do it, Norman. Do it, Norman. (screams) (groans) Do your job. SOLDIER: Waddell, where you at? -Waddell! -Move it! Move it! (melancholy piano music) (heavy breathing) BIBLE: Come on, Norman. Let's go. (panting) (eerie music) (distant rumbling) Is this supposed to make a man out of me? Is this supposed to make a man out of me? 'Cause my conscience is... -Sit down. -It's clean. My conscience is clean. I'm keeping it that way. Look right here. Hot coffee. Norman? (Norman breathes heavily) GORDO: Don might be crazier than a shit-house rat, but he's solid. (sniffs) We've been together since before Africa. I won't fight with anybody else. BIBLE: Me, neither. There ain't no crew stayed together like we have, Norman. That's 'cause of him. (sniffling) COON-ASS: First time we got shot at, down in North Africa, (chuckles) Don, he done shit his drawers full. - (laughter) - He stunk the tank up real loud. It's true. We move out in 15. Norman. I haven't seen you eat anything all day. Make sure you get something to eat. (distant rumbling) You best go eat something. Make sure he sees it, too. (tense atmospheric music) (eerie music builds) There you go, boys. Keep pounding them. (eerie music continues) (indistinct chatter over radio) (eerie music continues) BIBLE: They got signs around their necks. What do them signs say? "I'm a coward and refused to fight for the German people." The SS does that. Let them rip themselves to pieces, huh? Fuck them. DON (over radio): Baker 6. Love 1-6. I got eyes on the town. We're ready to commence assault. WAGGONER: Baker 6 copies. Initiate your attack. Me and my boys will hit them from the south. Over and out. DON: We'll split up here. 1-4, 1-3, you take left. Binkowski, you follow me, and stay off my ass. Check the hotel. -Come back. -Copy. I got you, Daddy. (indistinct radio chatter) Clear the alley! MILES: Keep moving, Tex. BINKOWSKI: Go. DON: Gordo, just punch through that wall of smoke. GORDO: Copy. DON: Okay, hard left. Nine o'clock, nine o'clock. (engine rumbling) Move up. -DON: Gordo, halt, halt. -All right, hold here. (speaks in German) -(gunshot) -MILES: Sniper! -Cover! -(gunfire) Get down! Bible, follow my burst. (gunfire continues) On the way! (men shouting in German) MILES: Keep firing on that window! (man screams) (gunfire stops) Come on! Move out! SOLDIER: Go! MILES: Keep moving. MILES: Keep moving. Come on, keep moving up. Watch that doorway. Watch that doorway. DON: Halt, halt, Gordo, halt. (tank creaks to a stop) Binkowski, see that Kraut stinger in the cellar on my left? Mind giving him what for? I'm gonna slap him around a little bit for you. BINKOWSKI: Button up. (men speaking German) BINKOWSKI: Hit him! Fuck you, Jerry! Goddamn. All right, Gordo, forward. Fucking eyes up, everywhere we go. DON: Gordo, hard right, three o'clock into the square. Binkowski, you take the far end. You cover our tail. BINKOWSKI: Gotcha. (eerie music) (man shouts in German) (men shouting in German) Anti-tank. Traverse left. (over radio): Put some Willie Pete in that ground floor. Clear, Boyd. - (men speaking German) - DON (over radio): Fire when ready. (man screaming) -(men shout in German) -(man yelling) Nah, they cookin'. Go, go. (man screaming) (gunfire) (gunfire continues) -(gunfire stops) -(sighs) Good shooting, kid. Keep stacking them up. You should've let 'em burn. All right, look inside. Check the doorway, y'all. DON: Gordo, halt here. (man shouts in German) Come here. (shouts in German) (continues speaking in German) (speaks German) Binkowski, load an H.E. and get ready to put it in that bank if these people want to test us. -It's my pleasure. -(man speaks German) SOLDIER: Check the door, check the door. SOLDIER: Fuck, it's a bunch of kids. SOLDIER 2: Cut him down! Separate 'em. Come on. DON: Here they come. Keep an eye out. -Right over there! -Let's go! -Go. Go. -Fuck. Why you looking so sour, Kraut? What you got? You. You. DON: Burgermeister. (speaks in German) -Ja. -Hey. Shoot that guy. -This guy? -Yeah, him. - The SS cocksucker with the busted wing. - Oh-ho! Hey, Angel. This one's yours. Auf Wiedersehen, asshole. (fast-paced dramatic music) (rapid gunfire) Whoo-wee! (dramatic music) (indistinct talking) BINKOWSKI: Yo, what the fuck are you doing? I'm-I'm gonna take care of you, okay? You want to see the tank? Hey, I'm gonna marry this girl. COON-ASS: It's gonna be for two. Gonna be him, then me. All right, you go on up there. -That's it. Yep. -Give me your hand. WAGGONER: You boys all come through okay? -Just a walk in the park. -All right, Sergeant, you get some rest and relax-- we'll go win the war in the morning. -Yes, sir. (indistinct chatter, music playing) (airplane rumbling by) Norman. It wasn't nothing, right? Come again, Sergeant? Rubbing out those Heinies. You splashed 'em real good. Wasn't nothing, right? Sure, Sergeant. Yeah, it wasn't nothing. Fact, I kind of liked it. I want to show you something. (indistinct chatter, music playing) PEOPLE CHATTER, DANCE MUSIC PULSATES They've been on the sauce. They've been on the sauce. Your party! They've been on the sauce. Your party! That's Mary's boy, isn't it? Yeah. Maybe you should say something. Maybe you should say something. Nah. I'm crap at that kind of thing, Barry. Yeah, but they're just kids. If we don't say something... (GROANS) Hey, boys? Boys? Why don't you get a lift home tonight? Oh, whatever, mate. I've only had a couple. No, no, no, no. It's too late now. I've spoken to you and I know your mum, so that means our fates are aligned. You get into that car and you get yourself killed or you kill someone else, I become part of it too. How? How? Well, it's like, um, my balls are in your hands. BOYS LAUGH, SNORT BOY: Oh, you want the balls! BOY: Oh, you want the balls! Nobody wants that. Hey, how about I drive you? What? Oh. What? Oh. BOYS LAUGH, DANCE MUSIC PLAYS ON RADIO (SWITCHES RADIO STATION) (SWITCHES RADIO STATION) YODELLING MUSIC PLAYS I like it. 1 (door creaks) (glass clinking) (distant shouting, celebration) (sombre music) They knew we were coming. So they got drunk as lords and they shot themselves at sunup. Why are you showing me this? Ideals are peaceful. History is violent. (departing footsteps) (indistinct chatter) (glass shattering) Do what I tell you. You do that, you'll make it through this thing. (distant gunfire) Come on. (loud knocking) (plane rumbling in distance) (speaks in German) Nein. (speaks in German) (quiet whimper) (whimpering) Watch her. (woman whimpers quietly) (shouts in German) -(woman speaking German) -NORMAN: Hey! Hey! Come on. Calm down. Stand fucking here. Close the door and lock it. Lock the fucking door. - (woman shuddering) - (speaks in German) (speaks in German) (speaks in German) (quiet sniffling, whimpering) (exhales) (speaks in German) (Don speaks in German) (quiet whimpering) (woman crying quietly) Put the gun down. Grab a seat. You make me nervous. (in German) Come here. (gunfire in distance) (vehicle passing by) (speaks in German) Emma. (rustling) Ja. (plane rumbling by) Mm-hmm. Hey. (quiet sigh) (lively chatter continues outside) SOLDIER: Fuck! Aah! Grenade! Get away from that window before they shoot the hell out of you. (lively chatter, whooping outside) -Yeah! How was it, Gor? -(Gordo laughs) -GORDO: It was good. -(Coon-Ass laughs) COON-ASS: You get your ass up there, Boyd. -I hope you get scabies. -COON-ASS: Shit. - (sniffs) - (plane rumbling by) (piano plays brief phrase) (piano playing gentle song) (continues playing gentle song) (singing in German) (continues singing in German) (continues singing in German) (stops playing) DON: She's a good, clean girl. You don't take her in that bedroom, I will. Nein. (speaks German) Bitte. (sets cup down) (footsteps fade) (sombre music) 1 Can I see your hand? Can I see your hand? I'm not gonna bite you. This hand. Yeah. Now, you can tell a lot about a person from the lines on their hand. Um... you don't know what I'm saying, do you? (quiet chuckle) All right, this-- you see that? That's the Ring of Solomon. It means you help people, you understand them. It's really rare. Really rare. You see? You see that, though? Yeah, I got it, too. My grandma taught me how to do this. You see this right here? That is your heart line. From the looks of this... you are going to have one... great love in your life. (Norman exhales) (sighs) (door creaks softly) (door creaks softly) You don't have to say a word. (footsteps approaching) -Sit down. -(speaks German) Thank you. (speaking German) Hmm? What's that? (speaking German) -(laughs) -It's hot. -EMMA: "It's hot"? (laughs) -Yeah, you just... -(pounding on door) -GORDO: Hey! -COON-ASS: Normie! -Nor? -Norman, where could you be? -(pounding on door) -COON-ASS: Oh, shit. COON-ASS: Oye! Pinche, Norman! -Norman? -Pinche, Norman. Time for you to act the man! We got you fixed up good. Now, look, there a special gal. She's down there and she's waiting on you. And all you got to do is come on down. She wide open-- just jump on in. Yeah, she looks a little bit like a whore... but... What? I think maybe we too late, Gor. Norman. What did you do? Norman, you sneaky snail. What did you do? Wait a second, did you... Did you... Did you take this pretty young thing for a roll? Yeah, you're real pretty. Did you do that? What's with your lip? What's with your lip? Why it quiver? Don't worry about me; I'm a friend. He fuck you, you fuck me. That how it works. GORDO: You got to pass the plate. Come on, make a donation to the cause. - All right, don't touch her. - Don't touch her? - Don't touch her. - Don't ever fucking tell me what to do. You think you get some pussy and now you can fucking act like a man? Anyone touches the girl, they get their teeth kicked in. COON-ASS: That's how it gonna be? Well, all right, then. I guess it's Norman Day, huh? DON: Mm-hmm. COON-ASS: Shit, top. It's your day, Norman. Just drink that. You best take a bite. You a man, right? Drink it. -Attaboy. -You did the nasty. Drink it, there it is. -Your day. -(shaky groaning) There it is. -You like that? -Fucking touch me. Don't touch you? You a man, right? Get some pussy, you a man, right? Get your fucking hands off me. Fucking piece of shit. Watch this. How about that? How about I just kill you, huh? How about I fucking kill you right here? - Hmm? - Grady? Grady? - Fuck. Don't you fucking speak... Oh, God. What the fuck is that? Gasoline? -Taste like gasoline? Hey. -(slaps) -Ow! -Fucking North Georgia right there, boy. Fuckup. Donkey. Appreciate it. -(plays note on piano) -Look at that. (slamming on keys) Go have a seat. My beverage. That's the girl's egg. That's Gordo's egg. That's the girl's egg. Then where the fuck was my egg? You want to say grace? This meal's for you. Roger. Ready? GORDO: Let's do it. Our Father, thank you for preserving our lives another day on Earth so we may execute your will. We love you, dear Lord. Thank you for this meal and this wonderful company. -Amen. -OTHERS: Amen. Emma. Offer the girl her plate. There you go. Oops. Hold on. Hang on, there. I'm gonna fix that for you. Let me just fix this for you real quick. (whimpers) I didn't touch her. (crying) Switch with me. Mmm. GORDO: They were gonna eat like kings and queens over here. And we weren't invited. I wonder why we weren't invited. COON-ASS: Guess they too good for us. I'm enjoying my meal, boys. -Are you? -Enjoying your meal? And as much as you want to destroy it, you're not gonna fucking stop me. - And neither will you. - No, sir. And neither will you. Hey, Norman. Do you like horses? Don likes horses. Ain't that right, Don? -(chuckles) -We're eating. No, we're not. I'm done. -I'm fucking done eating. -(dishes clattering) GORDO: Hey, in France, we hit the beach right after D-Day. (silverware clattering) Right? And we had to fight through all these fucking hedgerows. Fucking pain in the ass, right? We finally hit open country, and we linked up with the British and the Canadians and you know what we did? You know what we did. We trapped an entire Kraut army pulling back into Germany. We fucked them up. Yep. Yes, we did. There was dead Krauts and horses, busted up tanks and cars for miles. Miles. Mm-hmm. Your eyes see it, but your head can't make no sense of it. And we go in there... And for three whole days, we shoot the wounded horses. All day long. Sunup to sundown, just shooting horses. And they were some hot summer days. I ain't never smelled nothing like that, top. GORDO: Do you know how you kill a horse? You pet it on the... pet it on the forehead, you know? And it becomes your friend; it goes like this. And then you shoot it right through the spine. And the sound of it? (Don clears throat) Those fucking screaming horses? Do you remember that, Don? All the black clouds of flies just buzzing around. It was like being in a... in a giant beehive. But you weren't there. (sniffs) That was a real fine story. Pleasant mealtime talk. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. It is what happened, Don. What happened, happened. What's gonna happen is gonna happen. Sitting here playing house with a couple bitch Krauts ain't gonna change a fucking thing. Shut the fuck up. Why should I shut up? You shouldn't. (choking up): I'm just drunk. I'm sorry. -(door opens) -MAN: Where's Love 1-6? Right here. The Old Man wants you. -How come? -You got a mission. (man sighs) DON: Let's go. (speaks German) (speaks German) NORMAN: Do you have a pen? I'll write you. Y'all getting married? Come on. What the fuck y'all doing? This a fucking wedding? Hurry up. There's more of them. What am I walking into? A recon plane spotted a troop concentration moving west here. Battalion needs you to guard these crossroads here in this grid on the overlay. How many troops did he see? I don't know. What kind of troops? They have tanks, horses, artillery? I wish I could help you. He took fire, he got the fuck out of there. Enough to spook the colonel. All the tanks are driving on Berlin. There's a couple of thousand cooks, mechanics and doctors here. Those Krauts hit them, it'll be a slaughter. All we got is you. We need you to the crossroads fast as you can. Secure them. Don't stop for anything. You understand? Take my gas if you have to. If those troops get past you, they're gonna smash into the supply train. Then the whole division's fucked. All right, sir. We're on the way. -Is that gas? -Open it up. -Yeah, it's good. -Okay. SOLDIER: Incoming! BIBLE: Grady, jump, jump, jump! (people screaming) (rumbling) BIBLE: Grady, you up? You good? Boys, good? GORDO: Thank the Krauts for that. Binkowski? -Davis, good? -BIBLE: Grady! SOLDIER: Everybody up! BIBLE: You up?! COON-ASS: I'm up. (indistinct shouting, chatter, coughing) All right, let's get an aid station right there. DON: Check Peterson. We're gonna mount up. -BIBLE: Norman! -NORMAN: Emma! COON-ASS: I got him. Emma! -Fuck. -Who do you think you are, huh? Jesus Christ? (Norman grunts) Fuck! You gonna raise her up, Norman? Get your ass back on the fucking tank. - Fuck is wrong with you?! - What the fuck are you doing? Huh? - What the fuck is wrong with you? - Are you gonna get married?! - You don't feel anything? You piece of shit! -Hey, come on! You feel it? -Fuck you! - You feel it? - Fuck you! - It's called war! You feel it?! (screaming) Get your fucking spindly ass back on that fucking tank! Where the fuck you think you are?! (dramatic music) Oh, God, why? DON: Tankers, mount up! (dramatic music continues) (melancholy music) You see that? That's an entire city on fire. I started this war killing Germans in Africa, then France, then Belgium. Now I'm killing Germans in Germany. It will end. Soon. But before it does, a lot more people got to die. 1 Fuck! Reverse hard left! Hard left! Reverse! -Fuck! -DON: Back up, back up, back up! Hard left! PETERSON (over radio): Hatches! Hatches! Back up! -Go, go, go, go! -Let's go, let's go, let's go! Back up. Left stick. Go, go, go, go, go! Hard stick! What the fuck was it? DON: That was an 88. It's a goddamn tank. Where the fuck is it? DAVIS: Tank! 12 o'clock, 800 yards. I see it! It's a goddamn Tiger! Put some fucking smoke in his face! - BIBLE: Let's go, Grady. Smoke up, Grady. - Smoke's up! Clear! On the way! PETERSON: We have to get to the crossroads. We got to get past them. Don, let's get the fuck out of here! -Let's go! -Unless he drowns himself in a shit-filled ditch, he's our problem. Hit that son of a bitch! -Almost up! Clear! -Light the bastard! On the way! DAVIS: Shoot that fucker! DON: Fire when ready! Stop! Stop! Stop! Stop! (engine revving) (man speaks in German) All right, all tanks, move forward! Fucker! -Peterson, right flank! -Right stick. Davis, left with me, stay abreast. Let's go right at them, let's go right at them! DON: Gordo, left flank. Let's bum-rush this cocksucker! PETERSON: Right stick. Taking the right flank. (man speaks German over radio) (tense dramatic music) He's coming out. -DON: Loader, A.P, A.P. -Clear! -Hit 'em! -On the way! PETERSON: Commence! -Pump him! Pump him! -DON: Gyros on! -BIBLE: What do you want, top? -Loader, A.P., A.P., -smash him. -You're clear, Boyd! (grunts) A.P., 500 yards. Fire! -Again! -Fuck, Grady, put it in, now. -COON-ASS: Clear! -On the way! Aah, God! Goddamn it! -Fuck! -DON: Hit 'em! - Clear! - On the way! Fire! They got Peterson! DAVIS: Goddamn! (dramatic swelling music) -It's a fucking beast. -Fuck! Gordo, flank left! Left! DON: Davis, cross him. Flank right! Flank right! DAVIS: Copy! Right stick! Right stick! Traverse left. Davis, he's lining up! Fire! Shoot the son of a bitch! He's lining up on Roy! DON: Goddamn it, I said fire! German SOLDIER: Fire! -Goddamn it. -Fuck! DON: Roy's gone. We're all that's left. DON: It's up to us now. DON: Gordo, get around him. Put us on his backside. If we get behind him, we can kill him. Go! Go! Go! (man speaks German over radio) DON: Faster, Gordo! (man speaks German) Goddamn it! (man speaking German) (gunfire) -Goddamn! Fuck! -What was that? -We got hit! -BIBLE: I lost him. -COON-ASS: Boyd, are you all right? -Aw! Shit! -Fuck! BIBLE: We lost power traverse. Switching to manual. COON-ASS: Boyd, you stay in the fight! -Bible, hit him! -On the way! Coming around! He's coming around! DON: Gordo, you got to outrun that gun! -Oh, I got it! I got it! -German SOLDIER: Fire! DON: Gordo, put it in third. Right stick! Bible, put it up his ass, where the armour's thin. I know where to fucking hit him! -COON-ASS: Boyd, you clear! -BIBLE: On the way! -Shit! -DON: Goddamn it, I said in the ass! We're moving too fast! It's not that fucking easy! -COON-ASS: Come on, Boyd, stay on him! Gordo, when I say back up, you back up. Left stick. All right, all right. Bible, stand by. I'll call the shot. Roger! Roger! Gordo, now! Reverse! Reverse! -Left stick! -(yells) Bible, steady. DON: Steady. -Come on, Bible! -Come on, fucking shoot him! Steady. -Now! -On the way! Fuck! Grady, one more! One more, Grady! -Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady! -Clear! -Again! -On the way! COON-ASS: Clear! - (panting): Tank destroyed. - DON: Gordo, halt. - (quietly): Jesus Christ. (shouting in German) Fucking Nazi fuck! Fuck you! (panting) (sniffs) (continues panting) (panting) DON: Radio check, Love 1-6. Yeah, boy. -(exhales) -DON: Radio check, Love 1-6. Fucking man. -Good fucking job, Gordo. -Radio check, Love 1-6. DON: Radio check, Love 1-6. (radio static) Radio's eighty-sixed. We're on our own. Good shot. Oh, it wasn't me. No, no, I'm the instrument, not the hand. (panting): God didn't call us today. You hear me, boys? COON-ASS: What's he doing up there? Big pair of dice? Everyone else came up snake-eyes but us? -Lord's protection. -We got it, don't we, boys? -Yes, sir. Yes, sir. -We got it. -(laughter) -Norman mowed them fuckers down, didn't he, too? -He sure did. - Good job, Norman. - COON-ASS: Welcome to the Army, Norm. You did good. -(Norman groans) -Oh-ho-ho! (others chuckling) COON-ASS: Best job I ever had. -(laughing) -Best job I ever had. (panting): Best job I ever had. (quietly): Best job I ever had. GORDO: Shit. We're still open for business. Let's head out for those crossroads, keep it out of Krauts' hands like we've been told. DON: There's a wave coming in. We're the rock to break that wave. Vamonos. Gordo, get us out of here. Fuck it. (tense music) DON: All right, there's the crossroads. Gordo, take us up on that hill. We can cover the whole valley from there. BIBLE: Grady, get down! (groaning) Shit! Not another fucking Tiger! -A mine. Settle down. -Where's it coming from?! -It's a mine. We hit a mine, is all. -Whew! BIBLE: Everybody off. Grady? Shit. DON: How bad is it? It's broke as fuck. Busted a bogie, too. DON: Can you fix it? Hell, why not? (Gordo speaking Spanish) (coughing, groaning) DON: All right, Norman, you and Coon-Ass check out that building. -Hey, Boyd, get my Thompson. -What? Go get the Thompson. -BIBLE: Gordo! -GORDO: Yeah? -You got that rope bag? -Right here. (flies buzzing) You can put the gun down, Norman. Ain't gonna do nothing. (flicks lighter open) Can we go now? Norman, I'm sorry. You know? I think... I think you're a good man. That's what I think. (chuckles) I-I think maybe we ain't, but... I think you are. See, I just... I wanted to tell you that. It's okay. (chuckles) Come on, let's go. Anything? No, nothing. It's an aid station. They all dead. DON: Kid. Head up top of that hill, near those trees. You got outpost guard. Can I grab my canteen? Yeah, you can grab your canteen. (birds squawking) Norman! Top of the hill, then work your way from the trees. (wind blowing softly) (birds squawking, wind whistling gently) (exhales) (men singing in German, marching in distance) (singing, marching growing louder) (soldiers continue singing, marching) (singing continues) (singing continues) (singing continues) Hey! Hey! Good evening, Norman. Why aren't you at your post? -They're com... -Slow down. -They're coming right now. -Who's coming? -The Germans! -How many? -Too many. Too many to count. -How many? Oh... oh, about 200, 200, maybe 300 of them. They got vehicles, too. -Tanks? -No, no, no, just trucks. COON-ASS: Probably a bunch of bums looking to surrender, that's all. No. No, no, no, no. They were marching, they were singing-- they sounded like they wanted to fight. -What do you mean, they were singing? -BIBLE: Where? NORMAN: I'm telling you. Right over there. -(faint singing in distance) -COON-ASS: Hey, you hear that? It's a goddamn SS battalion. -GORDO: Bullshit. -COON-ASS: Jesus Christ. -Grady, get my gun. -Yeah. -You want to get the weapons? -Shit. -What do you want to do? -Let's just get our shit, all right? Look, it's about to be dark. We just get on up out of here, huh? -Let 'em pass on through. -BIBLE: Let's him them woods. COON-ASS: Norman, go get your shit. Go get your pack. Let's go. We never run before; I ain't running now. What was that? - We're gonna fight it out. - We can't. I'm gonna hold this crossroad. What you mean, gonna hold... The tank's busted! -The tank's fucking busted, top! -Hey. -Yeah, you said that. -Top, what are you doing? What do you want to do? You want to sit here? -Gonna hold this crossroad. -You want to sit here and hold off a SS battalion... No, it's not what I want to do, but it's what we're doing. -There's five of us... -Get to your fighting positions! -Mount up! -Take fucking fighting positions when we ain't got a tank! - How we gonna fight? - We got a cannon! - Don, that don't make sense! Stop! What are you doing? Get out of here. Get to that tree line. DON: Boys, take care of yourselves. Get to that tree line. (tense music) It's all right. Hmm. It's all right. It's my home. (tense music continues) I'm staying here with you. All right. I'll need you to load. Boys, get on. It's all right. Grady, come on. - We're gonna stay. - Uh-huh. What is your plan? Fuck it. Get us one of them dead Krauts. (purposeful, dramatic music) (dramatic music continues) (dramatic music continues) Light him up. COON-ASS: Boyd, take that kit right there. That's it. Go and grab it. That's it. All right, all right. Grease gun. -Go on, hand it to him. -Another box. COON-ASS: Go ahead and get it ready. Listen, you do not waste one shot. -You hear me? -DON: Gordo. -BIBLE: Grenades. -DON: Ammo count. -BIBLE: Put that there. -COON-ASS: Make them count. What kind of rounds you got up there? -Norm? -I only got two. All right. -Ready? -(grunts) COON-ASS: That's it. Yeah. NORMAN: I'm going through ammo like water. There's four rounds of smoke, and 23 super charge and 33 solid shot. What you want, top? Load super charge. Set the point delay. BIBLE: Norman, get it ready. COON-ASS: That's it. Here we go, Boyd. COON-ASS: Gordo, grab me that one. - Boyd. - Thank you. NORMAN: Give me that can. Might as well get a little tight. Won't be around for the hangover. Ah... God, that's better than good. Mmm. Give it here. Give it here. - What you gonna do with that? - I'm gonna drink it. BIBLE: I know you hate me preaching. I know it. But what we're doing here is a righteous act, gentlemen. -You hear me, Gordo? -Mm-hmm. There's a Bible verse I think about sometimes. Many times. It goes... "Then I heard the voice of the Lord... "saying, 'Whom shall I send? "And who will go for us?' (clears throat) "And... I said, "'Here am I. Send me.'" (exhales) (softly): "Send me." Book of Isaiah, Chapter Six. (laughing) (laughing) Yeah. Yeah, Don. That's exactly right. Oh, wow. You're something. (sombre music) (low grunt) Goddamn, son. You a fighting, fucking, drinking machine, ain't you? Machine, that's it-- that's his war name. That's perfect. DON: I christen thee "Machine." -Machine! -Machine! -Machine! -Machine! -Yeah. (laughter) (quietly): Machine. DON: I love it in here. -I do. -Best job I ever had. Best job I ever had. COON-ASS: Best fucking job. Yeah. They're coming. DON: No one makes a move unless I say. 1 Come on, you cocksuckers, come on in. (speaking German) (continues in German) (continues in German) DON: Come on in. Almost. (shouts in German) Come on in. Hey, come on. (soldier speaking German) (yells) Now! (shouts) Like that, motherfuckers? COON-ASS: Clear! -DON: Fire! -On the way! - Clear! - On the way! (soldier shouting in German) (shouting in German) (shouting in German) Fucking Nazi. Fuck! DON: They're running! They're running! Traverse left! Bow gunner, squirt those assholes running for that mill. Cut those fuckers down! DON: Loader, four rounds of Willie Pete. Bible, put it in that building. It's full of fucking Krauts. -COON-ASS: Clear! -Fire! Fire! BIBLE: On the way! Give me another. That was beautiful. -You clear! -On the way! DON: Bow gunner, watch that left! Yeah, you better fucking run. (shouting in German) Traverse right! On the way! - (indistinct shouts) - Bible, stay on 'em. 15 up, 15 up. -DON: Fire! -COON-ASS: Clear! -On the way! DON: Traverse right! Doughs, two o'clock! -Give 'em a big kick in the butt! -(grunts) All right, I'm on them. -You clear! -On the way! Loader, give me another point delay. Skip it on the ground. Bounce those fuckers! Clear! On the way! (whoops) Come on! (gunfire) Hit 'em again! DON: Go, boys! Go, boys! Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady, Grady, come on, now. -COON-ASS: Clear! -Light 'em up! On the way! Down 15. Steady. DON: Traverse left! -COON-ASS: You clear! -Fire at will! -On the way! That's right-- burn to the fucking ground. (shouting in German) Machine, clock one! (yells) I'm out! I need a new can! Shoot, we out! We out! Fuck. We got a case rupture. This gun is gone. -NORMAN: We need more boxes of ammo! -We got .30 on the roof. All right, we got ammo outside. I'm gonna lay down some smokes. Gordo, on my signal, pop your hatch, lay down some cover fire. -Okay, roger. -Machine, you do the same. -Grab that grease gun. -Copy. Cover right! Bible, get ready to snatch that .30. Roger. All right, here we go. Go! (shouting in German) COON-ASS: Come on, Boyd! Take it, Grady. Chinga tu madre! (shouting in German) Button up! (soldier shouts in German) (gun clicks) -(soldier shouting in German) -BIBLE: Grady, Grady, Grady, -Grady, Grady, Grady! -GORDO: Hurry up, Grady! (Don grunting) -(stabs) -(soldier yells) (grunting) Fuck, fuck, fuck! Aah, fuck! GORDO: Shoot him, Bible! (grunts) -BIBLE: Gord? Gordo? -GORDO: Grady, I need two more. I got two left. -They're getting cocky. -COON-ASS: Fuckers. Damn sure ain't no good leaking oil everywhere. So patch me up, then. GORDO: Hey, take these two boxes. Put 'em down below. Hey, Grady, come on. Keep it coming. NORMAN: All right. Open the other one for me. If a man loves the world, the love of the Father's not in him. For all that's in the world... lust of the flesh, lust of the eyes... pride of life... it's not of the Father. It's of the world. The world and its desires pass away. (sighs) But he who does God's will is gonna live forever. -Forever. -(artillery fire in distance) Lift it up. (shouting in German) (speaks German) (dramatic music) DON: Save your ammo. Don't shoot unless you see something. We can be damn sure they're working their way behind us. Anybody see anything? -I see nothing. -I got nothing. Nothing. Panzerfaust, four o'clock! Traverse right! DON: He missed! Hit him with the co-ax! (grunts) (dramatic music intensifies) Fuck! (gunfire stops) BIBLE: Grady. Hey. Fuck! Fuck! No... no... no... (Bible crying, groaning) BIBLE: No... no. No. -Hey, Grady... -DON: Get up! We're still in this fight! We're still in this fight! DON: Boyd, watch our right, watch our right. (gunfire) Stay on the .30. Keep hammering 'em. (gunfire) (shouts in German) Yeah, you motherfuckers! Come on. (shouts in German) How long can we keep this up? -Come on, keep shooting! -Fuck, I'm out! I'm out! I need a new can! BIBLE: That was our last belt. She's out! That's all there is. Fuck! -Fuck. -Don't get your panties in a bunch. We still got hand weapons and the .50. (laboured breathing) Who's with me? (continues speaking German) DON: Gordo? Machine! 1 (dramatic music builds) Where the hell are they? They're everywhere. (soldier shouts in German) (shouts in German) (soldier shouting in German) Fuck! Fuck, I'm out! Gun's gone! I need a weapon! DON: Bible, no! (grunts) (grunts) Grenade! -(explosion) -(gasps) (deep, metallic ringing) (grunting) (gunfire) (grunting) Go! Come on! DON: What the fuck are you doing? -Button up! -I'm sorry! (groans) I'm sorry. (swelling dramatic music) (soldier shouting in German) (speaks German) (groans) Fuck you! Bible, grenades! -Here, take... -(gunshot) (grunts) (gunfire stops) (exhales, pants) (grunts, groans) (melancholy music) (burst of gunfire ricocheting) (melancholy music continues) (gunshot) (melancholy music swells) (panting) (panting) (groans, pants) I'm sorry, son. Uh... it's okay. What can you do? (panting) (slow piano music) I did my best. I know. I know. (panting) (muted, distorted explosions) Sergeant Collier? Yeah, son? (Norman panting) I'm scared. I'm scared, too. (muted shouting in German) Oh, Jesus. Oh, fuck, I want to surrender. Please don't. They'll hurt you real bad. Oh, fuck. And they'll kill you real bad. Fuck, what do I do? There's a hatch. Okay. Okay. -Do you see it? -I see it. -You know where it is? -I know where it is. (laboured breathing) What the fuck? Go. (soldier shouts in German) (muffled explosions) (shouting in German) (soldier speaking German in distance) (whistling, soldiers speaking German) (soldiers shouting in German) (truck engine idling) (soldiers shouting in German) (truck passes by) (shouting fades) (panting) (gasps) (panting softly) (panting) (sombre music) (continues to pant) (groans) (sombre music continues) (footsteps) (metallic clattering) - (footsteps continue) - (groans) (tense music) (gun clicks) Easy, boy. Easy, now. One's alive! (indistinct radio transmissions) MEDIC: Okay, easy. Easy, buddy. Come on. (groaning): All right, there we go. Okay. You all right? -You hit? You hurt? -I'm all right. You seem all right. Let me take this. We'll leave you with that. Hey, you're a hero, buddy. (echoing): Do you know that? (sombre music) (sombre music swells) (sombre music continues) (sombre music continues) (sombre music continues) (sombre music swells) (music fades) www.able.co.nz Captions were made possible with funding from NZ On Air. Able 2017