Platoon Page #3

O'NEILL

(eager to elaborate)

Yeah, they had claymores strung up in the trees, blew

a whole f***ing platoon to pieces. BAAD SH*T.

Barnes inflects his next words at Wolfe, who is worried.

BARNES:

Yeah, they got two Lieutenants and a Captain.

WOLFE:

Jesus.

Elias quiet. Barnes studying the map.

WOLFE (CONT'D)

(to Barnes)

Who do you want on ambush, Sergeant?

Barnes doesn't bother acknowledging the question, barely glancing

at the Lieutenant, to him a necessary evil. Everybody knows

who's really in charge of the Platoon. Barnes flicks his gaze to

Elias.

BARNES:

Elias - you take your squad and I'll take Tex and

Francis from your squad.

(to Warren)

We move out in two-zero mikes.

(concluding)

ELIAS:

I thought it was O'Neill's turn tonight.

They all look at each other. O'Neill spits in the dust, a

freckled, short red head with a hard worried face, a lifer, 30

going on 60.

O'NEILL

Sh*t! Morehouse and Sal are short. Fu Sheng's going

on R&R, you don't want to send their asses out on an

ambush. You got the fresh meat Elias.

ELIAS:

(to Barnes)

They don't know sh*t Barnes, and chances are we gonna

run into something.

O'NEILL

So what am I going to do! Get one of my guys zapped

so some fuckface fresh from the World can get his

beauty f***ing sleep!

ELIAS:

Hey O'Neill why don't you cool it, you don't have to

be a prick everyday of your life, you know.

O'NEILL

F*** you Elias.

BARNES:

You get your men ready Elias ...

Concluding the debate, no further argument, Barnes rises. The

meeting's closed. Lt. Wolfe hasn't said a word, looking as Elias

departs, without a word.

O'NEILL

(watching him)

F***ing guy's got 3 years in and he thinks he's

Cochise or something ...

His resentment directed partly at the way in which Elias carries

himself, the natural sense of grace - and the dignity it bestows.

CUT TO:

EXT. PLATOON PERIMETER #1 - SQUAD ASSEMBLY POINT - DUSK

Later. On the very edge of the perimeter, darkness coming down

fast, the men in the ambush patrol rustle into their packs, all

of them bitching.

Tex, carrying the M-60, looks up at the glowering sky.

TEX:

Sh*t, looks like rain. All night too. Gonna grow

mushrooms in your bad-ass crotch Junior.

JUNIOR:

(under his breath)

Goddamn ain't no justice round here, you break your

ass for de white man ... gonna get our act together,

do some rappin' wid de brothers, change things ...

CRAWFORD:

What's O'Neill have a nose up the lieutenant's ass

already, how come we always get ambush.

FRANCIS:

Politics, man, politics. We always getting f***ed

around here.

Chris is scared, nervous with his last-minute equipment

adjustments, his pack obviously overweight for a night mission as

he hauls it up.

Gardner, the other new boy, is jovial in contrast, his wallet

extended towards Chris.

GARDNER:

Hey Chris, I show you a picture of Lucy Jean?

CHRIS:

(not to be bothered)

No ...

Gardner shows him his girl. She's real dog u-g-l-y, and what

makes it worse is Gardner's put the standard photo of Raquel

Welch alongside it, tits and all. But he misses the irony of it.

GARDNER:

(admiring)

Yeah she's the one all right ... that's Lucy Jean.

She's a-waiting for me.

CHRIS:

(nodding)

Yeah she's real pretty, you're lucky ...

Gardner puts it away. Elias appears alongside them, checking

their packs out, takes out Chris's poncho liner and other items.

He carries a modified M-16 with a short barrel and a collapsible

stock.

ELIAS:

(to both boys)

Don't need this or this ... you're doing okay. Just

stick close to Tex, do what he does.

(calling out to Tex)

Tex you got Junior and Taylor here on your position.

Tex is a sour Texas Ranger type, chews tobacco, spits.

TEX:

Damn, 'Lias this gun's boss. Put Taylor someplace

else.

Chris feels the words like lashes on him.

ELIAS:

You got Taylor ...

(to Gardner)

... Gardner you go with me

(to Chris and Gardner)

'Case somethin' happens to you, you get separated or

lost don't yell out okay. Sit tight. We'll get to

you.

His eyes. Chris watching them. A smile in them. Elias moves

off, a quality to the man that Chris admires. A natural sense of

leadership.

BARNES:

Okay, let's move out.

As he follows King, on point, out the perimeter. A single file.

EXT. THE AMBUSH NIGHT (RAIN)

Night is coming down. The tone of the jungle sounds has subtly

shifted - mellower, more sinuous and certainly scarier.

The file stops. King, an experienced point man, listens.

Chris - carrying Tex's linked ammo - looks around, tense. Behind

him is Gardner, trying to smile, starts to whisper something

('Hey Taylor ...') when he's abruptly shushed.

The file moves on. Gardner's pack rattling a little too loud. A

weird rush of cold wind now rattles the trees and the MONSOON

comes. A hard slanting rain, sudden, tropic.

EXT. RUINS - JUNGLE - NIGHT (RAIN)

A piece of an old Buddhist temple, under a sulky moonlight now in

a state of decay, the jungle surging to engulf it.

The Men are setting up quickly and relatively quietly in the

ruins - alongside a miniscule trail. The rain is coming down

harder than ever.

Chris and Tex setting out their claymore mines, raveling back

their detonating cords to their position, drenched. In the far

distance, an ILLUMINATION ROUND brightens the sky for a brief

moment. Various ad lib curses and directions are lost in the

sound of the rain.

EXT. AMBUSH - BARNES' POSITION - NIGHT (RAIN)

At the Ambush CP, Ace whipsers into his radio. A soft hissing

sound.

EXT. AMBUSH - CHRIS'S POSITION - NIGHT (RAIN)

Later. Close on Chris being shaken awake.

TEX:

Taylor, you're on.

CHRIS:

(groggy)

Uh hunh.

The rain continuing to pelt them. Tex hands him an infrared

scope.

TEX:

(suspicious)

You sure you know how to work the claymore?

CHRIS:

(offended)

Sure.

Tex curls up as best he can in his poncho to sleep.

TEX:

Okay ... don't catch no zzz's on me buddy or I'll

sling your motherfucking ass ... You hear me?

CHRIS:

(grits his teeth)

Yeah.

(looking at his watch)

Hey Tex - you're ten minutes fast.

TEX:

Sin Loi.

('tough luck', closes his teeth)

Chris lets it go, scans the jungle and trail with the scope. The

POV is greasy and blurred. He puts it aside.

Suddenly a series of resonant SNORES crack through the jungle.

Chris starts, then sees it's from JUNIOR lying out there,

spreadeagled in the rain. Chris prods him.

CHRIS:

Junior!

JUNIOR:

Unh? ... Unh.

CHRIS:

Shaddup! You're snoring ... Shhh.

Bending low into his eardrum. Junior never wakes, rolls over

with a growl. Silence.

CUT TO:

EXT. CHRIS' POSITION - NIGHT (RAIN)

Later. A pool of muddy water has formed, in which a pair of

buttocks sit. Move up to Chris still on duty, looking at his

watch, drawn, drenched, pathetic, rainwater coursing down his

face.

CHRIS (V.O.)

(continuing his letter)

... 'Course Mom and Dad didn't want me to come, they

wanted me to be just like them - respectable, hard-

working, making $200 a week, a little house, a

family. They drove me crazy with their goddamn

world, grandma, you know Mom, I don't want to be a

white boy on Wall Street, I don't want my whole life

to be predetermined by them.

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