Apocalypse Now Redux Page #7

SOLDIER (OVER P.A.)

This is an area that's controlled

by the Vietcong and North

Vietnamese! We are here to help

you! We are here to extend a

welcome hand to those of you who

would like to return to the arms

of the South Vietnamese government.

A line of villagers are throwing all their belongs on top

of a large APC parked by the road, and filing into the

carrier. Kilgore stops and watches the G.I.s help them,

then he moves over and looks at the inside, where the

villagers are crowded together, waiting and scared.

KILGORE:

(to woman)

Get in! Hurry up!

(to soldier)

Move it out!

SOLDIER (OVER P.A.)

This is an area that is controlled

by the Vietcong and North

Vietnamese...

Kilgore turns and continues down the burning street with

his group. He comes upon a wounded V.C., groaning. The

man has tied a wash bowl over his belly-and is groaning

for water . Kilgore turns to a soldier.

KILGORE:

What's this?

SOLDIER (OVER P.A.)

This man's hurt pretty bad, sir.

About the only thing holding his

guts in, sir, is that pot lid.

KILGORE:

(to ARVN soldier)

Yeah? What does he have to say?

ARVN SOLDIER:

This soldier is dirty V.C. He wants

water. He can drink paddy water.

KILGORE:

Get out of here! Give me that

canteen.

He pushes the ARVN soldier away, turns, and then gets a

canteen full of water from the lieutenant.

KILGORE:

Any man who's brave enough the

fight-

(to ARVN soldier)

Get outta here! I'll kick you

f***ing ass! Any man brave enough

to fight with his guts strapped on

him can drink from my canteen any

day.

He stoops down-starts to quench the prisoner's thirst from

his canteen. A soldier rushes up to him.

SOLDIER:

Colonel, I think one of those

sailors is Lance Johnson, the

surfer.

KILGORE:

Where? Here? You sure?

The solder points at Lance.

SERGEANT:

Down there.

Kilgore rises, hands the canteen back, and moves over to

Willard and his crew. Looks at Lance.

KILGORE:

What's your name, sailor?

LANCE:

(salutes)

Gunner's Mate Third Class L.

Johnson, sir.

KILGORE:

Lance Johnson the surfer?

LANCE:

Yes, sir.

Kilgore smiles, sticks out his hand.

KILGORE:

Well, it's an honor to meet you

Lance. I've admired your nose

riding for years. Your cutback,

too. I think you have the best

cutback there is.

LANCE:

Thank you, Sir.

KILGORE:

You can cut out the "sir" crap,

Lance. I'm Bill Kilgore. I'm a

goofy foot.

Kilgore leads Lance off to meet some other soldiers.

Willard's entire top-priority mission has been out in the

background.

KILGORE:

(making introductions)

I want you to meet some guys.

This is Mike from San Diego. Johnny

from Malibu. We're pretty solid

surfers. None of us are anywhere

near your class, though.

MIKE:

No way.

Lance shakes their hands. Kilgore moves on, the group

follow him.

KILGORE:

We do a lot of surfing around here,

Lance. I like to finish operations

early, fly down to Yung Tau for

the evening glass. Been riding

since you got here?

LANCE:

No way. I haven't surfed since I

been here.

They stop to see Catholic Mass going on in the middle of a

graveyard. Many helicopters continue to hover overhead.

Willard looks around him, looks at the Mass being held, as

the Priest continues his alter on a gravestone in the midst

of the bombing and evacuations.

EXT. AREA BY DESTROYED VILLAGE - NIGHT

The area is illuminated by large cans filled with sand and

jet fuel, bonfires, and the burning village in the

background. There are maybe fifteen to twenty helicopters

secured against the wind, in orderly patterns. Men are

grouped around the fires, eating steaks, hot dogs,

hamburgers, drinking beer. It has the bizarre resemblance

of some sort of barbarian beach party.

WILLARD (V.O.)

Kilgore had a pretty good day for

himself. They choppered in the T-

bones and the beer...and turned

the L.Z. into a beach party. The

more they tried to make it like

hone, the more they made everybody

mis it.

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