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When Trumpets Fade
- R
- Year:
- 1998
- 95 min
- 310 Views
August, 1944.
The outcome
of the Second World War appeared
to be no longer in doubt.
Paris was liberated.
After four years of fighting,
victory against
Since the Normandy landings in June,
American and Allied forces had battled
their way across ''Northern Europe,
to within its own homeland.
it welcomed the troops.
Marching down the Champs Elysees,
officers and men believed that Berlin
And the word was that
they would be home in time
for Christmas.
But when the soldiers left Paris
for the German border
I'm gonna make it.
You're gonna make it.
I'm gonna make it.
You're gonna make it.
My lucky day.
It's your lucky day.
I got the luck.
You got it, Bobby.
This is nothin' !
It's walk in the park!
Oh!
What's that, partner?
I get to go home.
You're goin' home, Bobby!
I'm goin' home!
Goddamn right!
I'm goin' home!
You know it, Bob!
Hang in there, Bobby.
Hang in there.
You can do this.
I can do this.
You're tough as nails.
Nails.
Not good enough, Bobby.
Nails!
What about nails?
Tough!
That's right, they're f***in' tough!
God damn you! stick with it, Bobby!
F***in' dig in, Bobby!
Come on, who's tough as nails?
Me's tough.
That's right, you tough. Tough as what?
Nails.
That's right, now say it!
Tough as nails!
You're godammned right,
you're tough as nails!
Come on, stay with us, Bobby.
It hurts!
I know, it's less than a mile.
Less than a mile to go.
It's too far.
No, it ain't, it ain't too far.
Not gonna make it.
Can that sh*t!
Gonna die!
Cut it, you're gonna make it!
I'm gonna...
You're gonna make it.
Make it.
You're damn right!
Listen Bobby, I gotta rest for a minute
Okay? Okay, Bob?
Sh*t!
Bobby! Stop it! Stop it! Stop it!
Stop it! Bobby, stop it! Bobby! Bobby!
Welcome back, motherf***er!
Promise me you won't pick me up no more.
It hurts.
Don't... don't pick me up any more.
Listen Bob, if I leave you,
You're gonna die out here.
Just sit here for a bit.
I am dying.
Bob, we can't sit here.
So, I gotta pick you up,
and I gotta get you out of here.
No.
Come on.
No! No!
No more! No more! No more, please
Let's go. let's go, Bob.
All right, all right!
All right, all right, all right!
Relax! Relax! Relax!
No more. Please, no more.
Fine, I'm not. I'm not gonna touch ya'.
Okay, just relax. Just relax.
Just relax.
No more. No more. No more.
You're not gonna leave, are ya?
Got no choice, Bob.
Okay.
D..., David...
Don't leave me here like this.
Please don't leave me here like this.
Don't you leave me here!
David!
David, don't leave me here like this!
Stop it!
Don't leave me here!
David...
All right, get outta here!
Grab my hand, buddy. There you go.
More bandages, hurry it up!
Come on, get up!
Where's C Company?
...You kidding?
Easy there, buddy. Hang in there.
Chamberlain!
Grab an end!
Captain Pritchett's been lookin'
for anybody from your platoon.
Where is he?
Back at HQ.
I'm headin' that direction
if you want a lift.
Get down!
Sh*t!
You all right?
Oh, my God! Oh God! Oh...
Why do they leave them there like that?
F***in' brass!
They don't wanna waste
the trucks on the dead.
They still got more guys to haul in
for the slaughter.
No more room in Hell !
What'rya talkin' about?
There's plenty of room.
All they gotta do is stack 'em higher.
How many do you think?
Hundreds.
That's just in the last five days.
How can they let this happen
and still pretend to be human beings?!
I haven't seen one of those sick fucks
over the rank
of Captain here since I been up here.
They're lookin' at points on a map!
Not one of them has a f***in' clue
what's goin' on up here.
Sh*t flows down.
Godammed right! Regiment wipes
its ass with Battalion,
Battalion wipes
its ass clean with Company,
and we're left
to lick the sh*t off of them!
Mark my words,
they're gonna keep sendin' us in until
the whole f***in' division is gone!
Not me, Bedpan.
Captain Pritchett, sir?
You have a Private manning here.
All right.
...You Manning?
I think so.
Give him a straight answer, Private.
Relax!
You can stop looking for your platoon.
They didn't make it.
What?
Looks like you're the only one
who made it out.
Your lucky day.
Lucky day?
You're alive!
Am I?
If you don't put a sock in it,
Private...
You're gonna, what?
Can it! Both of you!Lukas, take a walk!
F***in' Greenie!
You better get used to him,
he's your new platoon leader.
He'll be dead in a week.
Tell me somethin'...
You got your sh*t together?
Somethimes.
What's that mean?
It means that sometimes
I've got it together.
On the line?
Waht do you want...Captain?
a beating last night.
I've heard seventy percent casualties,
but that's just talk.
Whatever it is,
it must've crippled us bad.
We've been pulled back without reaching
a single objective.
What has this got to do with me?
We're getting replacements
in from the Channel,
tonight you'll be fit in with
a new squad.
Congratulations, Private,
you're a Sergeant now.
I don't want it.
You'll get used to it.
I don't wanna get used to it!
I don't give a damn what you want!
I'll put up with that mouth of yours,
because I figure after surviving
a week up here,
you've earned that right.
You have not earned the right
to question my orders!
I am absolutely the wrong man!
That may be your opinion, Sergeant,
but it's not mine.
You've managed to stay alive for a week
That's something the rest
of your platoon couldn't do.
Call me crazy,
but from where I'm standin',
that makes you qualified for the job.
You're making a mistake.
Your opinion is duly noted, Sergeant.
Dismissed.
Sir...I've...in the woods, I've done things...
Sergeant.
Yes?
Dismissed.
Request permission for a Section 8.
I'm f***ed up, I can't do this,
I, I, I'm no good.
Listen to me, soldier, a week ago,
I had a company of almost 200 men.
Now I've got 50.
As hard as this may
be for you to swallow,
your efforts
to stay alive hold very little value
at this particular time and place.
What does hold value are the objectives.
The longer it takes to obtain them,
the more dead we'll be stockpilin'
at the side of the road.
Now it's my job
and I will utilize anybody
at my disposal to do so.
That includes you, Sergeant.
Now I'm just as sorry as hell
about your bruised nerves,
but you are out of your skull
if you think I'm gonna let you bail on
a Section 8. Is that clear?
Yes, Sir.
At 1400 hours, you will rendezvous
with your new squad.
You've got until
then to get your sh*t together.
Is that clear?
Yes, Sir.
Good...Now, get out of my sight.
Captain...when I f*** this up,
is it your fault or mine?
Mind if I tag along?
Suppose not.
Yeah? Where'd you hear that?
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"When Trumpets Fade" Scripts.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 6 Sep. 2024. <https://www.scripts.com/script/when_trumpets_fade_23326>.
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