Tigerland Page #2

-l'm still not hearing you.

-You wear a dress, sergeant?

-What did you say, you piece of crap?

-Go kiss my ass, sergeant!

You little finger-f***ing cocksucker.

l will make you push Fort Polk

into the sea!

Sir, l already have a man in mind.

Thank you.

Eat dirt. Do it!

Do it! Eat dirt!

-Eat it!

-All right, sergeant, that's enough.

Get these men moving.

Move it! You heard the man.

Let's move it! Get going!

Miter, you're the new platoon guide,

the 2nd Platoon.

Get Bozz in line.

If it don't happen...

...even Jesus won't be able

to save you, understand?

-Yes, sergeant.

-Have these men fall in and fall out.

Platoon, fall in.

Fall out to your weapons.

Bozz, Bozz, Bozz, Bozz!

What is wrong with you, private?

Move your ass, son.

Let's go.

Move it!

-Bozz.

-Let's go!

Get that bag of sh*t in the dirt.

That's mine.

Platoon, listen up.

Platoon, we got a heavy day tomorrow.

Everybody hit the racks.

Lights out.

-Lights out.

-You like being in control, boy?

l ain't took no shower.

l gotta take one.

God, shut up.

l don't f*** with you when you're

talking, so don't f*** with me.

Sergeant Thomas.

Private Cantwell reporting

to the weapon shed as ordered.

Sergeant Thomas?

Glad you waited up for me, Dad.

l think everybody did, Bozz.

This the scene where the troublemaker

gets beaten by his buddies?

Somebody got beaten.

Cantwell.

Jesus!

-What happened?

-l think it was Sergeant Thomas.

Damn it.

Anybody report it?

Why? It's not gonna put

his face back together.

He was trying

to f*** around like you.

l'm sorry this happened to you.

There ain't gonna be

no more clowning from you.

You hear?

Go wash up and hit the rack.

Shut your cake-hole, Miter.

You're giving Cantwell a headache.

l'm telling you, and that's like

getting an order from the sergeant.

Don't make me put you on report.

Give it a rest.

It's been a hard day for all of us.

Don't you give me a hard time, Paxton.

You're okay.

You'll be a good soldier,

but this individual--

He wants to be a bumblefuck.

He wants to laugh at everything we do.

He'll hurt this platoon.

What are you, 20 years old?

Just because you wear sergeant stripes

don't mean you ain't gonna die.

Where you going that we ain't, Bozz?

You best start to soldiering, boy,

or you're coming home in a bag.

F***.

Just wanted you to know,

l've taken a great dislike to you.

-ls there anything else, Wilson?

-No.

l don't reckon there is.

l'm gonna tell you something.

This is the last time you'll hear it.

You can't kill a dink with a ricochet.

Oh, this is all about killing people?

Well, sh*t.

So you can shoot when you want to.

When l want to.

ldea of killing dinks excite you?

Cease fire. Cease fire.

Get your targets, scumbags.

All clear.

You can't hit your targets,

there'll be hell to pay.

Sh*t, l do believe that's

Cantwell's target there, boys.

-Not a single bullet hole in it.

-Shut your cracker face, Wilson.

Sgt. Thomas'll chew my ass for chow.

You ain't gonna be making

any phone calls home.

You gonna be busy. All asses and

elbows, picking up ciggie butts.

You're a one-man campaign

to make the world uglier.

-l ain't afraid of you, Bozz.

-Yes, you are, Wilson.

-You're just too stupid to realize it.

-Okay then, Sunday school.

You're such a goddamn saint,

give Cantwell your target.

-l'll give him yours.

-You take that and l'll--

Jesus H. Christ, what's

the purpose of this clusterfuck?

-Wilson switched targets with Cantwell.

-That's true.

-That's bullshit.

-Lie down.

-Permission to--

-Now, shitbird!

Yes, sergeant.

You know why this man's on the ground?

Because he's dead!

He's dead.

And you can't bury him.

Do you know why?

-Why, sarge?

-Because you're dead too!

You're all dead...

...because you don't know how

to fire weapons on semi-automatic.

Or how to hit Charlie

with short bursts.. .

...so your goddamn barrels

don't overheat.

And because this shitbag

can't hit his f***ing target.

Any questions?

-No, sergeant.

-l got a question.

lf l'm dead, how come

l can ask you a question?

l know exactly what you're doing,

you pissant fairy.

l want you...

...and your two girlfriends here...

...to report to the mess sergeant

after chow tonight.

Get up, Lazarus.

You're resurrected.

Get up.

Cantwell.

You're getting a lot less funny, Bozz.

There's some big old

moon shining down.

Reminds you what this

world is all about.

-What, peeling potatoes?

-lt's good you talk so slow, Cantwell.

Paxton there is taking notes.

Maybe he'll put you in a book.

Another one of his hokey characters:

the bumpkin saint.

l don't rightly know

what you're talking about.

l don't read much.

Never got past sixth grade.

Got married. Got a wife back home.

Poor little girl.

She has seizures.

These spells, you know?

Four children gotta go

without a mama now and again.

Jesus, Cantwell, when did you get

married? When you were 1 2?

Hell, no.

l was 15.

We had two together.

She had two previous.

l'm 19, but she's a might older.

She's 28.

l got a little boy who's 1

and a little girl who's 2.

What the f*** are you doing here, man?

Don't it strike you how

it's the same moon shining?

And it's shining down on us here...

...and shining down on

that little girl who's my wife.

lt's the same moon...

...that'll be shining

when we go to war.

Same moon that's shining down on

those boys getting shot.

Don't it strike you what it means?

How each of us is a bit of everything.

And everything is sh*t.

l know that back home...

...preacher be talking about

right and wrong.

About the Lord and God and Jesus.

But you know...

...if the Lord or God or Jesus...

...be standing here right now...

...he'd say, ''Cantwell...

...you forget about

all these promises.

You forget about what all anybody say.

And you forget about all them

big Sunday fancy ideas.

Even what we tell you.

You look up there.

Did you ever see such a moon?''

Goddamn it, Cantwell.

Sh*t.

Sh*t.

F***, l don't even know you, man.

You sitting there

telling your f***ing story.

Make me want to f***ing cry.

What's that about?

l mean, f*** you, Cantwell.

The world is f***ing made of pain.

You shouldn't even be in this army.

You're just too stupid

to get yourself out.

l told them my predicament.

They said, ''Wait till you go

to war, then complain.''

And you bought that?

The man said it.

l know Army regulations

the way prisoners know the law.

You're a hardship discharge, man.

Okay. Look, l'll get you

out of the Army.

What are you saying?

You don't care about him.

Jim, shut the f*** up.

l know what l'm doing here.

Just peel some

f***ing potatoes or something.

-One, two, three.

-wo.

-One, two, three.

-Three.

-One, two, three.

-Four.

-One, two, three.

-Five.

Who put you up to this, son?

Nobody, sir.

-l know my rights.

-No, you don't.

Your case won't be reviewed until

after you're overseas. Dismissed.

No, sir.

l don't believe that's correct.

And l believe if you don't allow me

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