Apocalypse Now Page #9

85 FULL SHOT - THE POINT, SURFERS

They line themselves up on the point. A good set is

building. Mike turns strokes into it -- takes off

-- drops to the bottom and turns -- trims up into a

tight section -- everything right except he keeps looking

around frantically.

86 CLOSE SHOT ON LANCE AND KILGORE

Another SHELL SCREAMS over and EXPLODES down the beach.

Lance looks over at Willard.

LANCE:

(to himself)

Maybe he'll get tubed.

WILLARD:

What?

LANCE:

Maybe he'll get inside the tube --

where -- where they can't see him.

A SERIES of SHELLS ROAR in.

WILLARD:

Incoming !

Lance ducks -- puts his hands over his head. The SHELLS

SCREAM over Kilgore and out towards the point. Kilgore

looks through his glasses -- two EXPLOSIONS in the water

are HEARD.

KILGORE:

Son of a b*tch.

Lance looks up and out toward the point in horror.

87 FULL SHOT - THE POINT

Two surfboards float in the channel bobbing up and down

on the waves.

88 MED. SHOT - LANCE AND KILGORE

LANCE:

(to himself)

The tragedy of this war is a

dead surfer.

Willard looks over, beginning to think Lance is crazy,

too.

WILLARD:

What's that?

LANCE:

Just something I read in the

Free Press.

KILGORE:

They just missed a good set --

the chicken shits !

Lance looks up.

89 FULL SHOT - THE POINT , SURFERS

They come up near their boards and climb on -- smoke

hangs over the water.

KILGORE (O.S.)

(megaphone)

Try it again, you little bastards.

90 BACK TO SCENE

He turns to Willard.

KILGORE:

(continuing)

I´m not afraid to surf this place.

I'll surf this place.

91 CLOSE SHOT ON KILGORE

He turns, glowering to his lackeys.

KILGORE:

Bring that R.T., soldier.

He grabs it.

KILGORE:

(continuing)

Big Duke Six to Hell's Angels --

Goddamit, I want that treeline

bombed -- yeah -- napalm --

gimme some napalm -- son of a

b*tch -- yeah, I'll take H.Z.

or C.B.U.'s if you got any of

them -- just bomb 'em into the

Stone Age, boy.

He throws the R.T. back to a soldier -- another SALVO

WHISTLES over -- everyone drops.

KILGORE:

(continuing; to himself)

Son of a b*tch.

As the SHELLS EXPLODES on the beach behind him, KIlgore

raises his M-16 and EMPTIES it full automatic in the

general direction of the trees. He mumbles a few un-

intelligible swear words and jams a new clip into his

rifle turning to Lance --

KILGORE:

(continuing)

We'll have this place cleaned up

and ready for us in a jiffy, boy.

Don't you worry.

He FIRES another clip as the JETS SCREAM overhead.

92 FULL SHOT - RIVER - COPTERS

A sky-crane without pod descends slowly toward us --

The P.B.R. hangs below it.

The Chief, mr. Clean and Chef stand watching this sight

alomg with other soldiers. A man guides the descending

copter till the boat settles carefully in the shallows.

The Chief and others leap aboard; unshackle the hoists

-- load on ammunition and fuel. The battle is still

going on around them. They all look up as a wadge

of PHANTOMS streak over low and peel off one by one to

begin their bombing run.

93 FULL SHOT - PHANTOMS - MONTAGE

Phantoms RAKE the trees with 20 mm CANNONS -- FIRE five

inch ROCKETS in salvo -- "Bull Pup" MISSILES -- drop

H.E. (high explosives) and C.B.U's (Cluster Bomb Units)

and finally an immense amount of NAPALM.

94 FULL SHOT ON THE P.B.R.

The Chief is at the helm --the engine starts; Clean

and Chef work feverishly, ducking for cover every-so-

often when an EXPLOSION hits nearby. The boat begins

to back out of the shallows. The EXPLOSIONS of NAPALM

are reflected on their faces; the ROAR of the FIRE drowns

out almost everything.

CHIEF:

Forget that extra drum -- it's

too damn hot.

CLEAN:

Clear on starboard -- Where's

Lance an' the Captain?

CHIEF:

I saw that Colonel's Huey on the

point --

Two HELICOPTERS SCREAM over FIRING ROCKETS.

CHIEF:

(continuing)

Let's just get outta here.

95 FULL SHOT - THE POINT - KILGORE, WILLARD , LANCE,

OTHERS:

Kilgore watches the waves with his field glasses --

smoke drifts over.

Lance crouches below. Willard is up looking off in another

direction. SHELLS SCREAM over, but even their noise is

drowned out by the fierce SHRIEK of the PHANTOMS and the

deafening BLAST of HIGH EXPLOSIVES. Willard stares at the

tree line where it comes down to the river. The JETS are

making a hell of the tree line; a hell of fire and bust-

ling steam thet nothing could live in. Willard's glance

goes further downriver through the black smoke and there

merging in the river -- small and vulnerable, is his boat.

WILLARD:

(to Lance)

Look. There it is; the boat.

Lance looks over -- a tremendous relief on his face. But

still there remains the threat of Kilgore, standing stark

against the sky. Willard silently motions Lance toward

the boat.

LANCE:

(whispers)

He'll kill us.

WILLARD:

He can't kill us.

(realizing as he says it)

We're on his side.

Kilgore FIRES another clip at the tree line, and then

strides back without looking at them.

KILGORE:

(almost to himself)

You smell that.

(louder)

You smell that?

LANCE:

What?

KILGORE:

Napalm, boy -- nothing else in

the world smells like that --

They reflect the glow from the burning trees.

KILGORE:

(continuing; nostalgically)

I love the smell of napalm in

the morning.

One time we had a hill bombed

for 12 hours. I walked up it

when it was all over; we didn't

find one of 'em ... not one

stinking gook body. They

slipped out in the night -- but

the smell -- that gasoline smell

-- the whole hill -- it smelled

like ...

(pause)

victory...

He looks off nostalgically.

WILLARD:

You know, some day this war's

gonna end..

KILGORE:

(sadly)

Yes, I know.

Suddenly he senses something -- he stops -- lifts his

hand -- then frantically licks his fingers and puts

them up in the air.

KILGORE:

(continuing)

The wind --

LANCE:

What?

Sure enough there is a rushing breeze that increases.

KILGORE:

(rising maniacally)

Feel it -- it's the wind -- it's

blowing on shore -- It's on shore !

He leans down and practically grabs Lance.

KILGORE:

(continuing; screaming)

It's gonna blow this place out.

It's gonna ruin it ...

WILLARD:

The kid can't ride sloppy waves.

They turn and stare out to sea.

96 FULL SHOT - THE POINT - SURFERS

The wind has changed. Instead of blowing spray back

over the waves and hollowing them out, this strange

wind is causing white caps and cross chop.. reducing

the swell to slop. Mike and Johnny lay low on their

boards, overjoyed.

WILLARD (O.S.)

The kid can't stand sloppy waves.

97 MED. SHOT - THE BEACH - LANCE, KILGORE, WILLARD

WILLARD:

You don't expect this kid to

ride that crap, do you? He's

a goddamn artist, he needs

something to work with...

Slapping Lance on the shoulder.

LANCE:

Yeah, I'm an artist, goddamit !

KILGORE:

(apologetically)

Yeah -- yeah, I can understand

how you feel.

He turns toward the trees.

KILGORE:

(continuing)

It's the napalm -- it's causing

the wind -- ruining my perfect

left.

He staggers off toward the trees followed by his

guards and other lackeys.

KILGORE:

(continuing; mumbling)

The napalm -- ruin -- napalm

my perfect left -- my perfect

left point break -- napalm --

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