Apocalypse Now Page #20

218 FULL VIEW ON THE RIVER

Hundreds of Montagnards who had been lining the river

now run, absolutely silently, along the banks, keeping

pace with the P.B.R. There is no hostility in these

faces, only curiosity and a sort of grief.

219 VIEW ON WILLARD, THE CREW

They look up toward the bank.

220 THEIR POV

The temple at NU MUNG BA, a fortified encampment, built

around the ruins of a former Cambodian civilization.

Stone walls, barbed wire, cracked pyramids and rows and

rows of Escher-like sandbags arranged in an endless maze

around the fortress.

221 VIEW ON WILLARD

He picks up his field glasses and looks through.

222 WILLARD'S POV - THROUGH GLASSES

A sign entangled in the barbed wire -- its lettering

strict and military:

FOURTH SPECIAL FORCES

MISSION F-82

NU MUNG BA:

The GLASSES POV MOVES REVEALING another sign written in

a wild psychedelic hand.

OUR MOTTO:
APOCALYPSE NOW !

The POV OF THE GLASSES MOVE once again and come upon an

astonished sight, a black man dressed in a tatter of

colored fabrics, feathers, and an Australian bush hat.

He looks something like a multi-colored harlequin waving

frantically to the P.B.R. The POV OF THE GLASSES MOVE

OFF of him.

223 VIEW ON WILLARD

not believing what he's just seen.

224 THE GLASSES POV

Once again the young black man is now waving his

Australian hat.

225 VIEW ON THE P.B.R.

Willard shouts out to the starnge greeter.

WILLARD:

We've been attacked.

AUSTRALIAN:

(shouting back)

I know, I know, it's all right.

Come in this way. It's mined

over there. This way. It's

all right.

Willard look at Chef who is at the helm. He shrugs and

they do as this man says. The P.B.R. moves towards the

water's edge where there is a dock covered with concertina

wire. The odd Australian stands waving his hat, guiding

them safely in.

A thick greasy smoke hangs from fires that burn near the

fort; fresh shell craters indicate a recent battle. Near

the dock there is a tangled clump of corpses -- half sub-

merged in the water. Other piles of bodies lie about, some

of them on fire. Fire literally burns from out of the

ground. Chef nods at the bodies.

CHEF:

Charlie?

WILLARD:

Looks that way.

CHEF:

(looking at the Australian)

Who's he?

WILLARD:

God knows.

The boat pulls up. The Australian harlequin hops on

board; the crew regards him with their dark faces splat-

tered with mud and blood.

WILLARD:

(continuing)

Who the hell are you?

AUSTRALIAN:

Moonby. Got any Winstons?

WILLARD:

Moonby what?

AUSTRALIAN:

Moonby, 4th battalion, Royal

Australian Regiment, Task Force.

Ex-Corporal Moonby, deserted.

WILLARD:

(incredulously, indicating

the hundreds of natives)

What is this?

MOONBY:

Oh, they're simple enough people.

It's good to see you, baby.

Nobody has any Winstons?

Chef automatically offers Moonby a Winston.

MOONBY:

This boat's a mess.

WILLARD:

Where's Kurtz? I want to talk

to him.

MOONBY:

Oh, you don't talk to Colonel

Kurtz.

(he puffs, then smiles)

You listen to him. God, these

are good. I kept these people

off you, you know. It wasn't

easy.

WILLARD:

Why did they attack us?

MOONBY:

Simple. They don't want him to

go.

WILLARD:

You're Australian?

MOONBY:

Pre-Australian, actually. But

I'd dig goin' to California.

I'm California dreamin'.

WILLARD:

(almost to himself)

So Kurtz is alive.

MOONBY:

Kurtz. I tell you, that man

has enlarged my mind.

He opens his arms wide, to indicate the breadth of his

mind's expansion.

MOONBY:

(continuing)

But lemme tell you, he is the

most dangerous thing in every

way that I've come on so far.

He wanted to shoot me. The

first thing he said is, 'I'm

going to shoot you because you

are a deserter.' I said I

didn't desert from your army,

I deserted from my army. He

said, 'I'm going to shoot you

just the same.'

WILLARD:

Why didn't he shoot you?

MOONBY:

I've asked myself that question.

I said to myself, why didn't he

shoot me? He didn't shoot me,

because I had a stash like you

wouldn't believe. I hid it in

the jungle; the wealth of the

Orient:
Marijuana -- Hashish

-- Opium -- cocaine -- uncut

Heroin; the Gold of the Golden

Triangle. and Acid -- I make

Koolaid that makes purple Owsley

come on like piss. Now I'm

Kurtz' own Disciple -- I listen

he talks. About everything !

Everything. I forgot there's

such a thing as sleep. Everything.

Of love, too.

CHEF:

Love?

MOONBY:

Oh, no, not what you think...

Cosmic love. He made me see

things -- things, you know.

The whole time Moonby is chattering on, Willard has

picked up his field glasses and scans the fortress.

226 WILLARD'S POV - THROUGH THE FIELD GLASSES

Men in small groups, huddled over food.

Now he settles on the entrance in the temple. There

are stakes in front, and on top of them are horrible

shrunken heads.

227 BACK TO SCENE

WILLARD:

Sounds like he's gone crazy.

MOONBY:

No, Colonel Kurtz couldn't be

crazy -- if you heard him talk,

just last week, you'd never think

he was crazy.

WILLARD:

Is that where he is? By the

shrunken heads.

MOONBY:

Those heads, yes. Well, the

rebels...

WILLARD:

(to his men)

We're going ashore. Tie her up

-- and leave your guns up, Lance.

LANCE:

What?

WILLARD:

Bring your rifles, that's all.

(looking at Moonby)

Take us to him.

MOONBY:

Right on -- he's been waiting

for --

WILLARD:

And shut up.

Moonby nods and shrugs, and hops off the P.B.R. willard

and the men follow.

228 MOVING VIEW - WILLARD, MOONBY AND THE CREW

As they proceed closer to the fortress-temple, men appear

where a moment before there was only jungle.

They are mostly Montagnards, but far more savage looking

than any we've seen before. They wear only loinclothes

and bandoliers of ammunition. their bodies are painted

in strange patterns. They carry Army M-16's, Russian

AK-47's and a wide variety of knives and clubs. Women

emerge from the brush as well. they are armed and

equally primitive looking. Interspersed among them

are a few taller men with paler skins, with the remnants

of Army insignia on them. The paint on their bodies is,

if anything more bizarre. We CONTINUE TO MOVE ACROSS

the entire group up to the stone gates of the fort,

where thirty or so more are seen silhouetted against

the sky. Willard and his men look up at people more

primitive and more savage than any since the time

of Captain Cook.

They encounter, in the center of the group, what once

appears to have been an American. he is tall, gaunt,

wears a flak jacket, but is otherwise naked, save a

loincloth. His face is darkened from dirt, battle smoke,

strange camouflage patterns. His hair and beard are

long, matted with mud and grease. He carries an AK-47

decorated with scalps and human ears. Willard approaches

this beast, who seems shy and retiring.

WILLARD:

Who are you?

MOONBY:

(breaking in)

His name is...

WILLARD:

I'm not ever goin' to tell you

to shut up again.

Moonby shuts up. The MAN tries to speak, but nothing

comes out. He is dumbstrucked at seeing them, as they

are to see him.

MAN:

Colby. Exec. officer, A-Team...

Special Forces. F-82 -- Col.

Walter Kurtz, commanding.

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