Sands of Iwo Jima Page #5

- I can stand being back.

What happened to the squad, besides

the Greek, Shipley and Thomas?

Choynski...

Thomas? He never got a scratch.

- I was sure he got it.

- Why?

When we got stuck in a trench he went

back to get ammo. Never came back.

How long between the time he went back

and you got overrun?

About 40 minutes.

40 minutes?

Stay here.

Thomas!

- Yeah?

- Outside.

- What's that about?

- Don't ask me. I haven't any spies.

- That's far enough.

- What's this about?

Just that I hate your guts!

Get up.

You doped off and got one of my men

killed and one of them bayoneted!

- You haven't had enough. Get up!

- Stryker...

Attention! All right, break it up.

- What's your name?

- Sergeant Stryker. Able Company, sir.

And you?

Pfc Thomas. Able Company, sir.

This may take some explaining before

a court martial. Help that man up.

- You'll need medical attention.

- I'll be OK, sir.

That's debatable. You know it's not

permissible for an NCO to strike a man?

- Yes, sir.

- Who struck the first blow?

Colonel, there wasn't any first blow

struck exactly.

A simultaneous explosion perhaps?

Judo, sir. The sergeant was showing me

how to break a judo hold.

No more judo exhibitions.

Understand, Sergeant?

Aye, aye, sir.

At least you're no stool pigeon.

Wait a minute, Stryker.

I'm wrong, dead wrong. I know it.

I doped off for some coffee,

but I didn't think a few minutes mattered.

- It did!

- I know that now, but I didn't then.

It's killing me. I can't sleep.

A hundred times I wanted to tell you,

tell somebody. I...

I liked that Greek...

I'd do anything for him.

If I could I'd change him

for me right now.

I think you would.

Guys make mistakes but every one

we make, a stack of chips goes with it.

We make a mistake

and some guy don't walk away!

For evermore he don't walk away.

I guess all we can do is just take it...

...and hope we don't make

the same mistake again.

I won't.

Let's get back.

Mail call! First Platoon.

A letter from my wife after 18 months.

Know where she is?

In England, entertaining troops.

Entertaining troops? Why isn't she here

entertaining me? I'm a troop.

"They're all such nice boys. There's

a lieutenant here..." A lieutenant!

When I get back she'll need standing

up for a month! I put on muscle lately!

Darling, this is a funny way for a man

to find out he's a father, but you are.

It happened the day before yesterday,

just in time for breakfast.

He's a boy and looks beautiful like me

and intelligent like you.

I should have told you it was going to

happen, but I didn't want to worry you.

I don't know what to call him.

We never discussed that.

- I'm a father! Hey, I'm a father!

- Let's see!

- I'm a father!

- All right, let's fall in!

Come on!

Finally we got our leave.

Ten days in Honolulu.

All of us were out on the town.

All except Stryker.

He was still the same.

- Lonesome?

- Drift.

- Whiskey.

- Two?

- Please.

- OK.

Thanks. A drink'll be good. I'm tired.

It's been a rough day...

Knock it off!

I'm sorry, Sergeant.

- Right.

- Thanks.

65 cents for a drink. It's too much.

They cheat servicemen.

We could drink cheaper at my house.

Don't throw your arm out of joint.

Thanks for the drink. I didn't mean

to make too much buzzing in your ear.

It's all right, finish your drink.

- I didn't mean to sound so tough.

- I know. You're just unhappy.

Me, too.

My name's Mary.

The long arm of coincidence,

or something.

Her name, too.

That invitation still hold?

Make yourself comfortable.

I'll fix us a drink.

Oh, dear!

Well, I can get us some more in a jiffy.

I see.

Will a sawbuck do it?

Go on, take it. It's only paper.

Well, I'll be right back.

- I hope this is your brand.

- Any brand is mine.

- She says she's hungry.

- He.

Advise him against joining the Marines.

Mummy's fixing you something. Her

boy'll be quiet while she has company.

Knock it off...

Where's his father?

Gone.

Well, I guess into each life

a little rain must fall.

There are a lot tougher ways

of making a living than going to war.

You know about babies.

Yeah, I know about babies.

So long, Mac.

- Wait!

- I can't spend it on a coral reef.

- You're a very good man.

- You'll get odds on that in the Marines.

So long.

So long, Sergeant. I'll pray for you.

Let's not get religion.

- I'll pray for you, Sergeant!

- Good luck.

You got a lot of bloodhound in you,

Charlie, but you can call off the dogs.

I'm smarter than I was 30 minutes ago.

Catch me feeling sorry for myself again

and you got my permission

to belt me in the nose!

- Buy you a drink?

- Lock and load, boy!

- Thanks!

- Two bourbon and ice.

- A baby's a big event.

- Conway!

- Treating the boys?

- Crack open the hatch!

That's great. A fellow always gets

more kick out of a boy, I guess.

I got a kid. Sam, I named him...

...after your old man.

Wait till he gets to be ten and doesn't

write. You'll be mad enough to hit him.

No, I won't, Stryker, because he won't

have to write. I'll be where he is.

And I won't insist that he be tough.

I'll try to make him intelligent.

And I won't insist that he read the Marine

Corps manual. I'll get him Shakespeare.

I don't want him to be a Colonel Conway

or Sergeant Stryker.

I want him to be intelligent, considerate,

cultured and a gentleman.

- You're out of line, kid.

- Let him be. He has a right to dislike me.

Thanks, and I intend

to exercise that right.

- I don't like you, Stryker.

- Let's talk sense for a minute, Conway.

I can't have friction in the squad.

I've tried every approach to you that I

know. Got nowhere. You're intelligent...

Don't patronise me. Your opinion of

my IQ doesn't interest me in the least.

Let's get this straight.

On duty I jump when you holler.

Off duty I exercise my God-given rights

under a democracy

and dislike whom I please.

Do we understand each other?

- Beat it.

- Come on, you guys, let's go.

I don't understand

why you don't belt him.

- Mellow in my old age, I guess.

- Too bad.

"Screaming Sam"

couldn't be proud of him.

He could. There's something inside

a guy, always proud of a kid.

- Two more?

- Not for me.

- I'll sail again. One.

- OK.

- Maybe you can steer me home?

- Charge!

Pull pins!

Prepare to throw!

Throw!

- All right, fifth relay!

- What an arm!

Pick it up!

Right in the groove!

- Look, boy, this is a live grenade.

- Gee!

- You know what they can do?

- Yes, sir.

Right hand. Wait for the order

to pull pin and pitch grenade.

- Got it?

- Yes, sir.

Ready?

Pull pin!

Prepare to throw!

Throw!

Grenade! Hit the deck!

When will you wake up? You wanna see

her again, keep your mind on your work!

- What happened here?

- Little accident, sir.

You're wounded. Corpsman!

- Yes, sir.

- Take care of the sergeant.

Come right over here, Sergeant.

You may not know it,

but you just got your life saved.

You'll get a medal.

Again the word came

and the Marines moved out.

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes