All language subtitles for 1951-1951 The Steel Helmet 老兵不死.ENG

South Korean.

-Where'd you get that rifle?
-Find M1.

How do you know it's an M1?

G.I.s here. Four years.

-Tech sarge. You good dog robber.
-Oh, yeah?

You talk more like a dogface
than a gook.

I am no gook.
I am Korean.

All right, all right, all right.
So you're not a gook.

Can say that again.

-Bullet in head, yes?
-Bullet in head, no.

Hardhead.

The bullet went in the front,
spun around inside and came out here.

-See if there's any ammo on those guys.
-I know. Thirty-caliber.

Where's your people?

-With Buddha.
-Huh?

-Dead?
-By Red artillery.

-Big stuff.
-Yeah?

No bullets. All swipe-o by enemy.

Well...

I ain't got no chocolate, Short Round.

Divvy a cigar?

All right. Well...

shove off.

Don't take any wooden yen.

Quit following me.

Kachi Kop See Da.
That means we must travel together.

Yeah, well, you go
Kachi "Koppy" by yourself.

But your heart is in my hands.

My what is where?

Buddha say when you save a friend,
his heart is in your hands.

Look, you've done your good deed
for today. Now blow.

-I don't like kids around me.
-But I good scout.

-Don't need one.
-I know where river is.

-So do I.
-But you sick, bad wound.

Beat it!

Ah, come here.

Come on.

-You can tag along.
-Oh, we thank you. We thank you.

-We thank you.
-But you're on your own. Get it?

Grab yourself a steel pot.
You might need one.

Get yourself a pair of clodhoppers!

Shoes!

No, no. No. Over there.

Take Peewee Johnson's.

That's it.

Come here.
What's that paper on your back for?

Prayer to Buddha,
asking him to heal me if I am wounded.

Oh, yeah? Thought you
forgot to take off the price tag.

There.

-Let's go, Short Round.
-What is short round?

It's a bullet that don't go all the way. And that's
you, bud. You're not goin' all the way with me.

Just till we meet some gook-
some South Koreans who'll take you off my neck.

-They pray for Korean heroes.
-Yeah?

Well, if anything happens, hit the dirt.
Eat rice.

Bad wound. She wants your help.

Oh, yeah?

Lots of these Red guerrillas dress
like women, huh?

-You can say that again.
-Yeah.

Get their weapons and ammo.
Let's go.

You know where river is, yes?

I know where river is, no.

This -This fog has got me all fouled up.

-Buddha help us find river.
-Yeah?

You better ask Buddha which way.

Might be another Red.

Eat rice.

Relax, buster.

Take it easy.

Got any chocolate?

-See anything?
-Can you?

Nah.

-Can you feel it?
-Can you?

Yeah.

I feel it.

So you were a prisoner
for six hours, huh?

Yeah. They cut up my platoon
when we pulled back across the river.

How come they didn't murder
all you guys too?

They did.

Kept me alive
to patch up their casualties.

Guess you had plenty of chances
to find out how those Reds treat you guys.

-They hate our guts.
-That's not what Joe Stalin says.

There are 15 men out there to prove it.

-Sure your head's all right?
-Sure.

I knew a P.F.C. in Germany...

had a bullet rip right through his belt,
didn't even graze the skin.

-So you were in the last one too, huh?
-From Africa to Czechoslovakia.

-Red Ball Express?
-Yeah.

Till they asked for volunteers
for a rifle outfit.

Sixteenth Infantry, First Division.

Yeah, that was to prove you guys
could shoot besides drive trucks. I remember.

-You another retread?
-I was with the 16th.

Must have looted all of Korea.

Yeah, I got away with beaucoup chow
before I took off.

Too bad they can't make
a bulletproof helmet.

Yeah. Did you stay in
after the last one?

No. Went back to school. G.I. Bill.

Oh, yeah?

Go to Paris?
Paint any of them pictures?

Nah. Took up surgery.

Yeah? Where? In a butcher shop?

-You must have been hit in the mouth.
-Yeah.

D-day. Normandy. By an 88.

Half my back I'm w -

I'm wearing on my face.

You know what?

When my face gets tired, I sit down.

Hey, Sarge.
What's that on your back?

Huh?

You and your Buddha.

-Sounds like a patrol.
-Yeah.

Eat rice.

Eat.

I've got a hunch we're going around
in circles, Lieutenant.

-I'm not interested in your hunches.
-Yes, sir.

Hey, you ballerinas!
You're all bunched up!

Where'd you learn to go on a patrol?
At special service?

Holy smoke.

Sounds like sourpuss himself.

Hey! That you, Zack?

Yeah. Buddha-head?

-Yeah! Where are you?
-Smack in front of ya.

-Ah!
-Iron Mike Zack?

Yeah. Who's that?

Driscoll. Lieutenant Driscoll.

Well! Heard you were killed
in France in the invasion.

You had plenty of chances
to leave the States and find out.

Where's your officer?

Fertilizing a rice paddy
with the rest of the patrol.

-What happened, Zack?
-We were supposed to get a P.W.

They got us instead - ambushed.

Wiped out the whole mess.

Tied our hands behind us
with shoelaces and massacred us.

-I was lucky.
-You're the only survivor?

Yes, sir.

What's your story?

I was lucky too, sir.

Uh-huh. Regiment's been getting
a lot of stories about stragglers.

I'm Corporal Thompson, sir.

24th Division, 19th Infantry,
3rd Battalion Medics.

They killed every man in my platoon.

I saw them throw three into a bonfire.

And I'm no straggler.

-Who's the, uh -
-He's a Korean.

Boy, do you know where
the Chang-An-Saw Temple is?

I ask you, do you know -

What's the matter?
Doesn't he understand English?

Sure. He just doesn't like you.

We got fouled up, Zack. We're lost.

You ought to know that's how it is
all the time, Buddha-head.

Nobody knows where
we are except the enemy.

Sergeant Tanaka, you'll make excuses
for my patrol when I tell you to.

-Understand?
-Yes, sir.

Now we have to establish an O.P.
And the quicker we find that temple, the better.

Did you ever establish
an observation post, Lieutenant?

-Don't be impertinent, Sergeant!
-All right, all right, all right, Lieutenant.

Nobody's holding you back.

-Do you know where the front is?
-Sure.

Four points of the compass.

I'm borrowing a bandolier.
Let's go, Doc.

Sergeant Zack.

Look. I know you hate my guts...

but we need an experienced man.

-You happen to have that experience.
-Look, Lieutenant.

You got nothin' out there but rice paddies
crawlin' with commies...

just waitin' to slap you between
two big hunks of rye bread...

and wash you down
with fish eggs and vodka.

Good luck.

-It's gonna be rough on those boys.
-Sure it is.

They don't even have a medic with them.

Look, Thompson.
Nobody's holding you back.

Me - I gotta come out of this.

That bazookaman - He's a good joe,
but he can't hold that patrol together.

Could if his eyes weren't slanted the wrong way.
Then Driscoll would listen to him.

That lieutenant needs you.

Hey. Smart. That Red is smart.

-Sniping with a burp gun.
-That's using his head.

Yeah.

Patrol even fire like ballerinas.

Uh-oh, Doc. That's all.
Two snipers with burps. They've had it.

Short Round, stay here.

Come on, Doc. Let's go.

Hold your fire.

Ow.

Listen, you. You stay here,
or I'll slap your ears off.

You understand?

I'll yell if I need you, Doc.

-I can't see it.
-They're not supposed to be seen, Lieutenant.

Hey. Buddha-head.

-Over here.
-Come on.

-Couple of burps in the trees.
-Yeah, yeah. I know.

-Let's make money.
-Let's make some money.

Come on. Let's go.
What are we waiting for?

I know where he lives.
Try my right rear for the other one.

Spotted him.
Get a fix on my piece.

-Okay.
-Got it?

Yeah.

-You ready?
-Yeah.

All right.
Let's make some money.

Okay, you ballerinas. On your toes.

Come on, kid. Let's go.

Come out, come out, wherever you are.

Up on your toes.
Come on. It's all over.

Come on. Get up. Let's go.

Come on. Up, up. Let's go. Come on.

Hey.

Hey. Come on!

It's all over.

If you run into any more snipers, spot 'em first,
and don't stop firing till they drop.

Looks like a kraut Schmeisser.

Yeah. Made in Russia.

Let's go.

What are you luggin' that box around for?

It's an organ.

What are you, a wise guy?

-It's a portable organ, Sergeant.
-Show me.

Go ahead. Show him.

All right, all right. You showed me.

That's you? Fat Paul?

It belonged to Father Paul, the chaplain.

The H-E-Rwas burned off in a fire.
My name's Bronte.

Yeah? You should be luggin' ammo,
not a music box.

I have my specified amount
of ammunition.

There ain't no specified amount of ammo.

This your first dance too?

Yes, sir.

Sure you won't hurt yourself with that?

What do you do to
make your living in the army?

I'm the radio operator.

Yeah? What are you gonna do?
Clobber the Reds with those bottles?

Well, they didn't have the right change
at the P.X. Back at Pusan.

So I took it out in hair tonic.

Oh. One of those kind of guys, huh?

Let's see what kind of permanent you got.

Who scalped you?

I lost all my hair when I was a kid.

Yeah? How?

Scarlet fever.

Come on, buster. Let's go.

Wait a minute. Wait a minute!

Any of you ballerinas smoke cigars?

I got a box in my pack.

Oh, yeah?

What kind?

I don't know.
I don't smoke. I just found 'em.

I'll see you as far as the temple
for the stogies.

-Know where it is?
-Let's go.

These guys are smart.

They hide behind them white pajamas
and wear them women's clothes...

and make their kids play
near bombing targets.

-They're smart.
-We're wasting our time.

Look, I want to come out of this.

I don't want to turn my back
and have some old lady shoot my head off.

-They all look alike to me.
-Don't you know how to tell
the difference, Fat Paul?

-No.
-He's a South Korean when he's runnin' with ya...

and he's a North Korean
when he's runnin' after ya.

Well, Sergeant, I told you
it was a waste of time.

If I was right all the time
I'd be an officer, Lieutenant.

Hey, fellas! Watermelons!
Melons! Come on!

-Are you sure?
-Sure I'm sure.

You don't know how embarrassing
it was for me...

to introduce my friends
to my bald-headed mother.

And you're sure
that her hair grew back, huh?

I'm telling you. Ha!

These ads in the paper
can't grow your hair back.

And neither can the slop in that bottle.

Oh. How'd your mother
get it back then?

Rubbing. Massage.

But it's knowing how to massage -
and with what.

-Did you massage her?
-Of course.

You don't think I'd let anybody else
massage my bald-headed mother.

This is the secret of it.

Dirt. Earth. Soil.

-You're sure now?
-Makes things grow, don't it?

Doesn't that make sense to you?

I tell you what. When we get to
the temple, I'll start working on your head.

Ah. In no time,
things will be sprouting.

What things?

Hair! What do you want to
grow on your head? Tomatoes?

What'd you do in the last war?

4F? Not that I care.

-1A.
-Oh, yeah?

Shipped you right out, huh?
What theater? Europe or the Pacific?

I was a conscientious objector.

I found a dead American.

Are you sure he's dead?
You gotta be sure, you know.

-Half his head is gone.
-I better check.

He said his head was gone.
Save your strength.

-Did you examine him?
-No, sir.

-Smart.
-Did you get his dog tags?

-Dog tags? Are you kiddin'?
-But we ought to find out who he is.

Look, Lieutenant.
Don't let your emotions get the best of you.

Dead man's nothin' but a corpse.

Nobody cares who he is now.

Get his dog tags.

Yes, sir.

Ever hear of a body bein' booby-trapped?

"Get his dog tags"!
Big deal.

Hey, uh -

Did he, uh, have his pack on him?

He took it off for the break.

-Where is it?
-There.

Here. Give those to Short Round.

And take care of'em.
Don't break 'em.

Chang-An-Saw.

-You sure?
-Sure.

Look. When I wave you on, don't stall.
Buddha-head.

-Yeah?
-Let's go.

Okay.

See anything, Lieutenant?

Nah.

Let's go.

Put the animals on the porch.

Now listen.

I don't want any of you
to disfigure these walls...

touch the gods or break anything.

I want you to leave this temple
exactly as you found it.

All right, you guys.

Come on, come on. On your feet.

-Come on. Get up.
-Oh, for Pete's sake.

Outside and jackass the rest
of that equipment in.

Come on! Unpack those mules.
Let's go.

Hey. Short Round.

Hmm?

What are you doin'?

I was turning the prayer wheel
for good luck.

For, uh - uh...

obser-

obs-s -

serva -vation post.

Oh, yeah?

Well, um, get your helmet off the porch.

And, uh...

get your shoes too.

And better get them - them Red rifles.

You know.

-Don't want anything left out on the porch.
-Okay, Sergeant.

Give me Dagwood 2. Over.

-This is Dagwood 2.
-It's okay, sir.

This is Dagwood Baker
on Stephen Foster, 395-345.

Can you see the Swanee?

Yes, I can see the Swanee.

This is a must.
We need a prisoner for interrogation.

Yes, sir.

-They want a P.W.
-They kiddin'?

-Who's on the guns downstairs?
-That Joe who never talks.

Joe?

Hey, Joe.

Hey, Joe.

Oh, come on.

Hey, Joe?

Hey, you.

Didn't you hear me calling you?

Yeah? Well, jackass yourself inside
and stay there.

I don't want any movement
on this porch.

Did you hear that?

You know, we had a guy like you
in my outfit in Africa once.

Never said anything to anybody.

You know what?

Just like that.

Kasserine Pass.

Nobody ever knew
what he was thinking about.

Don't that bother you?

Ohh.

One guy don't talk, one guy's a conchie,
one guy's a chicken-fed lieutenant.

What a fouled-up outfit
I got myself into.

Sergeant, you got dog tags for me?

No.

I wonder what this is for.
I found it in one of the back rooms.

-It's a pillow.
-Probably belonged to one of the priests.

You don't have to be touchy with us, Baldy.
Take your steel pot off.

Go on, Baldy.
Take it off!

-Sure! Come on. Take it off.
-Go ahead.

Sure. Relax.

Ah. Chafed, huh?

-Yeah.
-How does it feel?

-It's raw.
-You oughta use pads on it.

You're lucky you got him along.

What's the matter?

The grenade in my belt.

The pin fell on the floor.
The lever's pushed against my stomach.

Buddha-head! Got a live one
against his belly. The pin.

Ah.

Don't move, Lieutenant.
Don't talk. Don't breathe.

Don't move a muscle.
Not an eyelash. Now hold your breath.

Come on, Baldy.

I'll start that stuff sprouting.

Hey, Conchie, you play "Auld Lang Syne"
on that music box?

Let's not get maudlin, Sergeant.

-I ask you, can you play it?
-Yeah.

-Play it.
-Don't feel like it.

You're lugging that organ around
to play music on, aren't ya?

What are you lugging it around for?

'Cause Father Paul
gave it to me before he died.

Now, don't give me a bad time.
Play it.

Okay, Sergeant.

## ["Auld Lang Syne"]

Where'd you learn how to sing
"Auld Lang Syne"?

-Old who?
-What was that you sang?

You pulling my leg.
You play it. You know it good.

What did you sing?

The Korean national anthem.

You play it good.
Very good.

## [Organ: "Auld Lang Syne"]

You no like my song, Sergeant?

-What are you doing out here?
-I bring prayer for Baldy to make his hair grow.

Let's have it, Short Round.
Can't do any harm.

Every little bit helps.

What are you rubbing on my head?

Like I said...

earth.

I don't know.

You ain't helping the skull nerves much
by worrying.

Yeah, but -

Relax.

But are you sure?

Just leave it to me.

You want to grow hair,
don't you?

Well, yeah!

Of course.

But are you sure that this -

Listen, if it's good enough
for my mother...

it's good enough for you!

Oh, no.

Oh, no!

Please.

Oh, no.

-Big stuff.
-Yeah.

Sounds like incoming mail.

Hey! What'd you do that for?
What'd you do that for, huh?

-What'd you do that for?
-You were whistling in your sleep.

-You sounded like a shell.
-It ain't my fault I breathe like that.

-What do you want me to do, stop breathin'?
-Ah, blow your nose.

-What's goin'on here?
-Are you all right, Sgt. Zack?

-Why don't you guys shut up!
-Knock it off! Knock it off.

Go on upstairs and relieve that Joe
on the O.P. - What's the matter?

-Something's wrong with my neck.
-Here.

Ow!

Now get your tail up there.

Hey! Are you nuts?

Aw, shut up!

Joe?

Hey, Joe!

Hey, Joe!

Hey, fellas! Lieutenant!

Fellas, hey!

That's the way.
Now you can go in.

Go on.
You're getting paid for it.

Ah, I don't know if it's one guy
or a company of'em.

Twenty-to-one,
they're in Manchuria by now.

There's nobody upstairs,
Lieutenant.

Where's Brownie?

Down in the cellar.

There's nobody outside.

Why don't you look where you're shooting?

I thought I heard something
in here, sir.

-Nothing.
-I get you?

Uh-uh.

Come on, let's go, Short Round.

-Bet he's gone.
-Yeah.

I thought you and Tanaka
made a thorough search of this place.

All right, so we didn't spot him
when we made the recon.

Like I told you before, if I was right all the time,
I'd be wearing bars, Lieutenant.

Short Round, you're a good Buddhist. How come
you don't know nothing about hiding places?

You're not gonna find him standing here.

Spread out
and look for him some more!

Take cover!

He's a prize package, Lieutenant.
A major.

Speaks English.

-Where's the rest of you Russians?
-I'm not Russian. I'm a North Korean communist.

-Buddha-head.
-You alone, Major?

Where's the rest of your men?

You heard the lieutenant. Answer him.
Or do I have to blow your head off?

You won't shoot me, Sergeant.

I heard the S-5 over the transceivers.

Your orders were to bring in a P.W.

You got one.
As you say, a prize package.

I'm too valuable to shoot, Lieutenant.

Hey, Major, you've been around.

Manchuria, huh?

Why not leave the interrogation up to
your friends in the rear, back at regiment?

May I put my hands down now?
Or do I have to ask God?

-Why, you -
-Wait a minute.

Take it easy.
He's mine.

Why, to me he's worth
a furlough in Tokyo.

Maybe even Hawaii.

Look, buster,
we oughta tie your hands behind you...

and throw you on a bonfire.

There ain't nobody gonna touch you.

Like I said, you're a prize package.
Drop your hands.

Bring me another cigar.

Lucky the pin didn't fall out.

If it had, you wouldn't have to
worry about your bald head.

Hey!

Hey, Baldy,
what are you doing down here?

I asked you to stay up there
till you got that fixed.

Yes, sir.

That was real smart, Major,
smashing our communication.

But Baldy's an expert. He'll have
that radio working in nothing flat.

You guys have a bad habit
of starting something you can't finish.

I just don't understand you.

You can't eat with them
unless there's a war.

Even then it's difficult.
Isn't that so?

That's right.

You pay for a ticket, but you even
have to sit in the back of a public bus.

Isn't that so?

That's right.

A hundred years ago
I couldn't even ride a bus.

At least now
I can sit in the back.

Maybe in 50 years...

sit in the middle.

Someday even up front.

There's some things
you just can't rush, buster.

You're a stupid man.

You're the stupid, Joe.

Why don't you get wise, buster?

You're ruining my dressing.

How you doing?

I'll try again.

Dagwood. Dagwood?

Dagwood!

Come in, Dagwood!
Come in!

Come in, Dagwood! Over!

This is Dagwood 2.
What's the matter with you?

I told you to keep this line open.
Are you men asleep on that O. P?

-Let me talk to Driscoll!
-This is Driscoll, sir.

Dagwood Baker,
the line on Stephen Foster's open again.

We had a little accident.

But we have a P.W.,
a major from a crack Manchurian regiment.

Sergeant Zack will bring him in.
Any further instructions?

What's the matter with you?
Why don't you come in?

We're getting nothing but static.
Come in! Come in! Come in!

Ah, it's no use, sir!
We can receive, but we can't send!

We gotta send! Fix it!

You understand? Fix it!

What's the matter with you men?
What's the matter with you men? Over!

-You got the same kind of eyes I have.
-Hmm?

-You got the same kind of-
-I heard you.

So what?

They hate us because of our eyes.

Major, you got a long hike ahead of you
in the morning.

Better get some shut-eye.

Doesn't it make you
feel like a traitor?

For a little guy with a lot
of combat time, Major...

you surprise me.

Don't you guys know
when you're licked?

I surprise you?

They threw Japanese Americans into prison camps
in the last war, didn't they?

Perhaps even your parents.
Perhaps even you.

You rang the bell that time.

They did.

And some of you had to
pass as Filipinos to get a job. I know.

Major, you're getting sloppy
as a con artist.

"Con"? What is "con"?

Eyewash.
Strictly for the birds.

That's you, majordomo -
strictly for the birds.

Ah, you Niseis are incredible.
You make no sense.

If I wasn't in the army
and you weren't a P.W., I'd -

Ah, in our country we have rules,
even about war.

Were you one of those idiots...

who fought in Europe
for your country?

442nd Combat Team.

And you know what?
Over 3,000 of us idiots got the Purple Heart.

You can't figure that out, Major,
can you?

No. That's what I don't understand.

They call you dirty Jap rats,
and yet you fight for them.

-Why?
-I've got some hot infantry news for you.

I'm not a dirty Jap rat.
I'm an American.

And if we get pushed around back home,
well, that's our business.

But we don't like it
when we get pushed around by-

Aw, knock off before I forget
the Articles of War...

and slap those rabbit teeth of yours out
one at a time.

What are you doing?
You're supposed to be getting ready.

I know.

-But I made special prayer.
-Oh, yeah?

Well, hurry up.

We're pulling out of here.

Unless you wanna stay
with these guys.

Oh, no, Sergeant.

I want to go with you.

Yeah? Well, then
you'd better hurry up.

Here.

That-a-boy.

Better get yourself in a steel pot.

Your clodhoppers too.
Shoes. Go on. Hurry up.

Sure that's what you wanna do?

Yep.

Never can tell.
One of the boys might get a scratch.

Ha!

I've gotta earn my money.

I'll stick around.

All set, Major?

Sure you're all right?

Three weeks in Tokyo.

-So long, Buddha-head.
-Ah!

When I get out of this, I'm gonna join the
air force. No more beetle crushing for me!

Aw, be smart.

There's nothing like the infantry.

You're in a plane and you get hit,
what happens? You still gotta fall.

Two strikes against you.

If you're in a ship, you get hit,
you can still -you can still drown.

In a tank, you can fry like an egg.

But in the infantry,
you get hit and that's it.

One thing or the other-you're dead or alive -
but you're on the ground.

Get wise.

-Nothing like the infantry.
-Is he kidding?

Well, Conchie, I don't know what changed
your mind about getting into this one...

and I don't care.

But if you get into a fight,
play on this 50...

not on that music box.

All right, Sergeant.
I'll try to remember.

Yeah.

All right, Short Round, let's go.

Major?

Sergeant Zack.

Yeah?

I, uh - I'd like to
swap helmets with you.

Oh, yeah? Why?

Well, it sounds a little silly, but, uh,
I thought maybe if I wore your helmet...

it'd bring me the same kind of luck
it's brought you.

I'd be crossing the army
if I brought you luck to live.

Sergeant, I've, uh...

changed my mind
about a lot of things in the past hour.

You'd have to change a lot more
than your mind to get my steel pot.

You're too dumb to be an officer,
so you take it out on us.

You're a sorehead, and you're jealous.
That's why you hate any officer.

Look, I'll tell you about an officer.

And he wasn't
a 90-day act of Congress like you.

He was a colonel,
and he didn't have to be there.

It was D-day in Normandy,
when you were wearing bars in the States...

and we were pinned down
for three hours by kraut fire.

This colonel - Colonel Taylor-

he got up on Easy Red Beach
and he yelled...

"There are two kinds of men
on this beach -

"those who are dead...

"and those who are about to die.

So let's get off the beach
and die inland."

That officer
I'd give my steel hat to any day.

Over there!
Fork in the tree!

He's still moving.

Yeah, now he's out of action.

Wonder how many people are out there.
Keep your eye glued to that scope.

I couldn't find anyone else.
Just one man. He's dead.

Well, that's what happens when you
get lost from your outfit. Where's the kid?

-Outside.
-Yeah?

He's not going with you, Sergeant.

Hmm? Why not?

Hmm?

It's his own fault.

Told him I didn't want
any kid tagging along.

Take him outside and bury him.

Go on. Take him out.

You heard him.

"To Buddha:

Please make Sergeant Zack like me."

What a stupid prayer.

Stupid.

It's a good thing this army isn't made up
of fatheaded slobs like you...

that think this war's run by idiots.

Just because those little rats kill our prisoners
is no reason we have to do the same thing.

No matter how sentimental
or personal you get...

you're supposed to be
in the United States Infantry.

"Soldier."
You're no soldier.

You're just a big, dumb, stupid,
selfish, fatheaded sergeant.

And if it takes me 20 years I'll see that you're
shot for killing a prisoner of war. Understand?

What are you waitin' for, Thompson?
Sew him up. Give him blood.

Are you kidding?
You blew a hole in him as big as a tunnel.

-I can drive a truck through it.
-Ahh!

If you die, I'll kill ya!

-I'm dying.
-You're gonna live.

-He's a goner.
-Shut up and keep him alive.

Look, Sarge, don't take it out on me.
You're the one that blew your top, not me.

-Shut up.
-You shut up!

No more blood.

Please. Please.

-A prayer.
-Huh?

Give me a prayer.

A prayer? Are you kidding?
You want a prayer?

-You're gonna live.
-The guy wants to die, let him die.

If the guy wants a prayer,
let him have one.

Listen, punk, there's nobody dyin' on me.
Understand?

Please.

What are you, buster?

Buddhist.

Buddha bless you.

There goes your furlough, jack.

Relax.

Lieutenant! Lieutenant!
There's a million Reds out there!

A million of'em!
Hurry up! Hurry up!

I'm trying!
Dagwood. Dagwood. Come in, Dagwood.

Come in, Dagwood, come in.
Can you hear us? Can you hear us?

Go ahead. We can hear you now.

It's working!

Stephen Foster operation's on.
Did you get that?

I'll give you Division Artillery.

This is DuVardy. Give us a target.

Thickskin, 870-968.

Thickskin, 870-968.

-200 yards over.
-200 yards over.

-Too far to the left a hundred yards.
-Too far to the left a hundred yards.

-On the target!
-On the target!

Fire!

You'd better check your guns.

Fire!

If those commies get wise
we're directing the fire from this temple...

they'll have every big gun from Manchuria
to Moscow trying to knock us down.

Buddha-head!

Buddha-head! Tank!
Rear! I'll cover you!

You never thought you'd be
knockin' 'em off like this, huh?

What are you gonna do if you come out of this?
Stay in the army?

Going back to my studies.

-What are you gonna be?
-A priest!

-What's a conchie like you doing in the war?
-I got news for you, Sergeant.

If a man lives in a house
and there's some danger in it...

if he wants to keep on living in it -

He should fight for it.

Zack! Hey, Zack!
Cover me!

Get the tommy!

I never thought I'd be
making money like this again.

-Can you handle coordinates?
-Yes, sir.

Soldier!

Yes, sir?

-Did you hear the colonel?
-Huh?

Did you hear the colonel?

Hear what he said?

Yeah.
Yeah, I heard what he said.

Well, then what are we waiting for?

Let's get off the beach, hmm?

Let's get those krauts.
Gotta get off the beach.

Gotta. Gotta -
Gotta get off the beach. Gotta -

Medic!

I guess we won't have
to run anymore, sir.

-Yeah.
-I think they got theirs.

Wait a minute.
There's another Red, and he's still moving!

Hey, fellas!

Are you sure that Zack'll be okay?

Sure.

Just got a headache.

The enemy was pushed away
from the river.

Regiment's putting all of us in
for Silver Stars...

for keeping the O.P. Alive.

I'm hungry.

Me too.

Me too.

First we'll eat.
Then we'll bury 'em.

Ho!

Anybody in there?

What's your outfit, soldier?

Say, what kind of an outfit is this?

U.S. Infantry.

Where's your officer?

Okay, come on.
Let's get going.

Come on, fellas!
Let's go!

Come on, Sergeant.

Yes, sir.