Original subtitles

I was only in my 20s,

the first time I saw a dead body.

You never forget that, really.

Until the moment of your last breath,

it sticks with you until the very end.

It did, for me.

For generations, US children have played

with little plastic green army men.

I did.

Along with other war toys, they contribute

to the socialization of some young boys

into the idea that war is an exciting and heroic adventure.

I know now that has never been more wrong.

Oh!

Yeah.

So, I go to this girl's party,

and it's about a week after she just beats

the living shit outta my friend, right?

And I do a little recon.

While everyone's getting trashed, I find this back window.

"Mission Impossible" myself in there.

And I did my thing.

Dude.

Shut up.

Stop. I'm, I'm, I'm serious, man!

I'm telling you!

I went around and I put tuna in every single curtain rod.

For weeks, they're trying to figure out why this place

smells like festering death, right?

I mean, just, just god awful rotten.

She starts going to the pussy doctor.

Yeah!

She thinks she's festerin' up the place.

A little fire in the hole.

Boom!

Dude, you are sick.

You know that, right?

Sick who?

They wronged me. That's just the way it goes, man.

Fuck 'em if they can't take a joke.

How did you talk me into this?

Beats the hell outta me.

Fucking hot as shit!

Come on, you piece of shit.

Shit.

Come on!

You're glad you came!

Yeah. No.

Oh, well, you weren't complaining too much,

when you were in line for the El Buffet, last night.

Yee-hah!

Get it, baby!

Yeah!

Oh!

Dude, that was you.

Are you sure?

Yes.

Huh.

No, but in all seriousness,

it was good to see you smile for once, man.

You worry too damn much.

I can't help it.

Hah-hah!

Yes, we can.

Yeah, I'm sure.

Especially if you got a nice 11-inch cock.

- Dude. - Oh, I'm serious, man.

- Uh-huh. - I'm serious.

Dude, what are you fucking doing, man?

Truck needs a little car wash, baby!

Man, come on! Dude, come on!

Woo!

I told you, not in the truck!

Little car wash for daddy!

Oh!

Woo!

Come on, man!

You get an anxiety attack if we leave the zip code.

I mean, that's not normal behavior. No fucking way!

Yeah!

"Normal". Right!

You're welcome.

Dude, we were in Mexico.

Precisely.

It was kinda nice.

Boom!

This is what I'm talkin' about!

That's what I'm talking about, man!

Come on! Loosen up!

Life's too short.

Relax.

Just relax.

Yeah.

I can do that.

Boo!

Dude, what?

Come on, man. Who do you think you're talkin' to?

I can totally relax!

All right.

Tell me a joke. Go ahead.

Come on. Make me laugh.

R-E-L-A-

Dude, what the fuck, man? I'm fucking driving!

- You trying to get us killed? - Oh, my god.

Where did you get your license?

Oh, man. Wake me up when we get there.

You drive slower than my grandmother.

Dude, I'm about to kick your greasy ass out of this car

and make you walk, how's that for relaxed?

Well, why don't you drop me off at your mom's on the way?

You wish.

Mm.

That I do.

That I do.

Any more cold ones?

That's doubtful.

But I can check.

Among men too on issues like the war itself.

Hold on.

Can't reach 'em.

Did you leave 'em?

Huh? I, I don't think so.

And volunteer in your regular army.

I did volunteer to come into the service.

Tell me this, Jobs.

We've lost something over 40,000 men now.

40,000 American lives.

As far you're concerned, it's worth it?

You fuckin' drank 'em, didn't you?

Watch out!

Dude! What the fuck?

What did we hit? What, what?

I'm fuckin' with you, man!

Come on, come on!

Come on!

Come on.

Come on.

You got it. You got it.

You got it. Come on.

Shit!

You tried that about a hundred times, dude.

Dude, it's getting cold. You got a sweater?

Yeah, in the bag.

Speedy, what is this?

That is pot.

Okay, Speedy, I need you to tell me,

I need you to explain to me

that we didn't go all the way to Mexico for you to buy pot.

We went all the way to Mexico to buy pot.

Fuck!

What?

Speedy, I need you to roll down the window

and throw that shit out of this car, right now.

- Shit. - Shit.

- I'm stuck, man! - Well, figure it out!

Yeah, I'm trying!

Okay! Okay.

Dude, fuck! - Okay, uh...

That's good. I got it.

Okay! Just, just...

You got it? - I got it.

Flask.

Hello, Officer.

How can I help you?

What you boys doing out here?

Uh, well, we were on a trip and our car broke down.

We were just trying to get back home. That's all.

You all right there?

I'm gonna need you to step out of the vehicle, sir.

Officer...

Like I said, we're just trying to get home.

I need to inspect this vehicle, right now.

So, I need the two of you to get outside.

Put your hands on the hood.

This isn't fucking happening.

Put your hands on the hood.

We're just...

That's you too, passenger.

Officer, uh...

I'm not askin'!

Step out of the vehicle!

Let's go!

Get outta the vehicle!

No!

I'm saddened to see such potential as yourself

drift into a darker place.

You've clearly forgotten what is right, young man,

and I hope this may set you in that path.

Your actions were a disgrace.

That is true.

You have a visitor.

However, with your clean record

and no prior history, I am giving you a choice.

To go to prison, or to serve in the Vietnam War.

These proceedings can continue,

when you've made that decision.

You have a visitor.

My name is Jonathan Teller,

and I am a haunted man.

I guess this is a good place to start as any.

If I go back any further, you'd despise me.

But don't give up on me just yet.

Hi, Jonathan.

Look at me.

Jonathan, look at me.

Jonathan, look at me, please.

And after everything that you put me-

What do you want me to say?

Jesus Christ, Jonathan.

Did you really think that I wouldn't find out?

That what?

That I was just gonna come here one day,

and not notice that you weren't here?

And that you went off to fight some stupid, unimaginable,

not to mention unwinnable war,

clear across the other side of the world, right?

Is it true?

It was that,

or rot in here for the rest of my life.

What do you want me to do?

Hey.

I'm here.

I always will be.

Always thinking of yourself.

Hands off the glass!

I just want you to know, you know...

Sorry.

It's hard to describe how I felt in those days.

It was as if I'd walked through a minefield blindfolded.

Somehow ending up a hole,

in the middle of a concrete jungle.

Completely unaware that I was crawling

further away from myself.

Yeah, we got a lot of vets here, of course, you know.

Uh, you're one of our first Vietnam.

Now, you gotta be a little careful in the neighborhood.

It's not bad, but it's not good.

But I'm sure you know how to look after yourself.

You know, just keep your eyes open.

But I think you're gonna like it here.

Well...

This is you.

What are my odds?

Excuse me?

Of getting murdered in here.

You hear me, motherfucker?

Suck my...

Oh, right. Well...

The walls are thin, so try and keep it down.

Thank you.

Good day.

I had lost my way.

But soon, I would find it in the most unusual of places.

I just didn't know it yet.

♪ In the quiet of morning ♪

♪ When the world is still asleep ♪

♪ No, no, no, no, no, no ♪

♪ I'm sitting here all alone ♪

♪ With the thoughts you keep ♪

♪ Think about the road I traveled ♪

♪ All the miles that I've gave ♪

Attention, all shoppers.

What do you think you're doing?

Huh?

Canned goods and bread and flour

don't get stocked next to cereal!

I can't have this liability.

Don't make me ask you twice.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Despite the facade of normalcy

that I tried to maintain, I had the strangest feeling

that something was closing in on me.

Something

that came home with me.

I'm okay!

All right, we've been hit!

Oh, god!

Charlie 3125, we are under fire!

We are going down! - I'm losing my controls!

Come on!

Come on! - We're going down!

We're going down!

No!

As the days faded into the next,

I felt trapped.

Like a prisoner,

caged by the bars of their own mind.

You have a visitor.

Look after yourself.

I think you're gonna like it here.

I feared my wall of sanity

was beginning to fall.

And just when I thought the dust settled,

and the echoes of screaming gunfire faded,

my true nightmare was only beginning.

Relax.

Why are you doing this to me?

Relax, man.

No!

A year had passed.

And although I was free,

the blinders that were permanently latched to my eyes

kept me buried within those walls.

Clean up on aisle four.

Large spill.

That's aisle four.

Clean up.

Don't make me ask you twice, people, or it's your ass.

Come on now. Chop, chop.

That's when I found myself

in the last place I ever expected.

But looking back,

the one place I needed to be the most.

Hi.

I'm Jonathan and I'm a Vietnam veteran.

Hey.

- Welcome Jon. - Welcome, brother.

Welcome, Jonathan. Welcome to the family, brother.

All right.

Anyone wanna start us off today with a share?

- Not me. - Uh...

I'll go.

Hey, guys. Happy to, happy to be here.

You know me. No stranger here.

I just wanted to say it's been a while since my last

quote-unquote outburst.

Pretty proud of myself. I feel like I'm making strides.

Went on a camping trip with some veteran buddies, recently.

It felt like it's what I needed to unwind, to get away.

And that evening, I came home and the closet was empty,

the car was gone,

and I haven't seen my wife and kid in a year and a half.

You've come to the right place.

Keep coming back.

Keep coming back!

Keep coming back.

Keep coming back.

Now, Tommy...

34 suicide attempts...

Tommy.

34 suicide attempts is considered a red alert.

Okay?

Yeah, 'cause he ain't doing it right.

- Mr. Abbot. - God damn it, Abbot!

If you don't shut the fuck up,

I'm gonna break my foot off in your god damn ass, boy!

I'm telling you, every god damn week, you come in with-

Gentlemen.

- Get the fuck outta here. - I expect more from you.

- Mr. Abbot! - Come on, bitch!

Come on, Sanders! Bring it on!

- Mr. Abbot! - You wanna go, motherfucker?

Gentlemen, enough.

Please. Jim?

Please ignore him. You know he likes to get people-

What you gonna do, Sanders?

Talking shit, motherfucker!

Come on!

Stop it!

Mr. Abbot, you are causing a ruckus here.

Who are you calling boy, boy?

Who are you calling boy, boy?

Gentlemen, I...

Just sit down!

Sit down. Gentlemen.

- Shut up, bitch! - Jim!

Jim!

It wasn't long before I went back,

but the unspeakable horrors we witnessed

offered its own kind of trauma.

I saw it on their faces, every time.

Clean up. Come on now, chop chop.

The war claimed the lives

of more than 58,000 of us.

For the ones that came back,

there were no welcome home parades,

no nurses to kiss upon return.

We were not heroes.

And we were discarded for it.

No matter how hard we tried,

we could never escape what we did over there.

That was our curse.

On the morning of that day, I found myself drifting

somewhere between the depths of my purgatory,

and what I imagined hell would look like.

I dreamed of ending it all, for an accident.

A head-on collision.

To make friends with a bullet in a chamber.

God, how I would thank the maker.

It was only a matter of time now.

I ran to the only place I could.

September 7th, 1970.

That anger and give it-

A date I will never forget.

Let him carry your burden!

The night of my last meeting.

You must be outta your god damn mind. You think I'm...

Fuck you! - Fuck you!

Fuck you!

You think I'm touching some kinda faggot?

Oh, all right. Oh.

They made me kill babies, but I ain't doing that.

They fuckin' made me! They made me!

Christ sake, if you don't like it, then get the fuck out!

Go fuck your mother, you philistine!

La, la, la, la, language!

All right! All right, all right, let's...

Let's recenter.

Recenter.

Gentlemen.

Gentlemen, calm.

Calm.

Let him take your burden.

Let him take your burden.

Look into your brother's eyes. Let him feel your pain.

He knows your pain. Let it out, gentlemen.

Let him take your burden from you.

Embrace your brothers.

Let go of that pain.

Let go of that pain.

Let him take your burden.

Let him hold it away.

Let, oh!

Good.

Good. Gentle!

Gentle now. Gentle now.

Let it out. Let it out.

Is this what you imagined hell would be like?

Okay, let go.

I've already been there, brother.

And breathe.

You know, you smell like somethin'

rottin' around you, brother.

And when you've been a tunnel rat for as long as I have,

livin' in the dark, you tend to trust your other senses.

What're you talking about?

I'm sayin' that you got a passenger

on your shoulders, brother.

Death!

- Fuck off! - You reek of it!

Shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh, shh!

It's okay. It's okay.

Shh. - Just let it go.

- Shh. - Let him take that-

What did you do?

Come on, did you touch the devil or did he touch you?

How the fuck would you know what I did?

Oh, brother, you went down the mouth of madness,

and now you're looking for penance, aren't you?

You're wrong.

Oh, am I?

Yeah.

Sure I am.

I don't wanna see your face here ever again.

You hear me?

What're you talking about?

I'm sayin' that these are my people.

My camp.

Mine.

You go find your own. You understand?

- Man, you're fuckin' crazy. - Yeah.

According to my last psych evaluation, yes.

Did you know that there are several ways to make napalm?

All you need is a little OJ and gasoline.

Can you just stop? Just fuckin' stop.

Listen to me.

This is my group.

I have nowhere else to go.

Well, then you better understand somethin', brother.

The ghosts of the people we kill

will haunt us for the rest of our lives.

Believe me. I know.

I know. I know.

I know. Yeah.

What do I do?

Take him as an example of courage.

Oh, brother, this is all one big bucket of piss

that we're drownin' in.

Do yourself a favor.

Make it quick.

That's what you do.

That's it.

No. Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Make it quick, baby. Yeah, make it quick.

- No. - No, yeah.

Make it quick, you gotta make it-

No! No!

We ain't never getting right

with the wrongs we done, brother!

We ain't never getting right for nothin'!

You hear me? Nothin'!

Oh, oh, oh!

I control my life and what I do!

I do! I do!

I do! I do!

'Cause I'm a baby killer!

No, Mr. Abbot! No!

Oh, my god!

Fuck! - Somebody call an ambulance!

Oh, my god. Oh, my god.

Somebody!

The time is 5:30.

David Brinkley is on vacation. I'm Chad Huntley.

For an hour and a half today,

the normally placid university and capital city of Austin,

Texas was held in the grip of a terror,

which began in killing and ended in killing.

A maddened former Marine, a 24-year-old student

in the architectural school named Charles Whitman

first killed his wife and mother in their home.

Then he fled to the top of the university tower,

a 27-story building, and from there, shot to death

at least 13 other people and wounded at least 31.

The carnage did not end until police ended Whitman's life

with several bullets.

Here is a report from Neil Speltz of KTBC TV Austin.

A marine veteran who was an expert marksman

shot and killed 10 unsuspecting noontime strollers

on the University of Texas campus today.

And then he was cut down, an hour and a half later,

by an Austin policeman.

When the shooting ended, 30 others were seriously injured.

And then the bodies of the alleged sniper's mother and wife

were found in his apartment, both dead.

The tally at this hour is 13 dead, 30 wounded,

and that figure includes the death of the man

police say he did the shooting.

A sniper identified his 24-year-old Charles J. Whitman

started shooting from the observation deck

of the 27-story-tall university tower.

He fell moving targets blocks away.

The terror-filled 90 minutes started

at five minutes before 12 Austin time,

and it was 1:22 when policeman Ramiro Martinez shot Whitney.

Those who were felled with bullets

from the high caliber rifle were pulled to safety,

as soon as possible by officials and passers-by.

Others crouched in terror.

Heavily-armed Austin Police, sheriff's deputies,

highway patrolmen and Texas Rangers,

converged on the campus

and began returning the sniper's fire.

But he was well entrenched,

and he had a fantastic vantage point of the entire area.

I'm not paying you two ladies to watch TV.

Reporter Charles Ward was on the scene,

as the gun...

Chop chop. Get to work!

Sir! Yes, sir!

Holy fuckin' heaven!

Kill!

Or be killed!

Kill or be killed!

Kill or be killed!

Kill or be killed!

Kill!

Someone once said hell is an illusion.

But the first real casualty of war is the soul.

I woke up, months later, barely holding on.

My grip on reality faltering in a sterile fortress

of white walls and unending corridors.

I was surrounded by others whose minds

had also betrayed them.

And I couldn't help but wonder if, if I would ever find

a way to piece myself back together again,

or if I was destined to be a lost toy soldier.

Never remembered.

As if I never existed in the first place.

But...

She wouldn't let that happen.

I'm not supposed to be here!

Get off! Get off of me!

No!

We gonna have ourselves a pool party tonight!

Watch your six.

Watch out.

God, Abbot.

Don't you sleep?

God doesn't have anything to do with this shit hole.

But you can call me Jesus Christ.

And believe me, I would staple my eyes shut

to sleep for one god damn minute,

but then the demons come.

Leave him.

Let him lay where he fell.

Give him the common decency to die

on the patch of fucking concrete that chose him.

That's the least you could do.

Death gives you perspective, doesn't it?

We're not dying, man.

Oh, that's where you're wrong, brother.

We're already dead.

You know, it's funny how people find it odd.

They're always so confused about life

and how the hell things didn't go as planned.

And that's 'cause they're all in a coma.

Gone.

And it's not supposed to make sense.

And if you learn that, I mean truly embrace that,

you'll live a better life.

It happened again.

Where were you this time?

Where were you this time?

Fuck you.

That dark is all we have left.

You better get used to that, brother.

No. I'll never get used to it!

Oh, no. One day you will learn to embrace it.

Teller, her we have to.

We don't have any other fucking chance, man. We're gone!

All the wisest do not let themselves be tricked

a second time.

What the fuck does that mean?

Hey.

Wait.

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

Are we the rats?

The rats!

They'd let me go a year earlier

at the behest of Richard Nixon.

I'd crawled four stories below Hanoi, Vietnam.

I mapped out dozens of tunnels,

detonated 48 bombs.

How many lives have I destroyed?

How many I ended?

I'll never know.

What I do know

is that I met you on the final day of 1972.

The same day I resolved to kill myself.

- Hey, sweetie. - Hey, baby.

- What can I get you today? - What you got?

In a barren motel room with a fifth of Tennessee rye,

and a pang of shame permeating the recesses of my soul,

I vowed that this was it.

That I would give myself the discharge I deserved.

For hours, I obsessed about doing it.

I remember the seconds felt like lifetimes,

but I couldn't do it.

I couldn't experience what my victims had,

those years before.

I could live with nothing.

Piece of shit.

Only the tortured echoes from the past

that were forever by my side.

I walked for what felt like days.

I roamed the common, scaled the hell, and meandered

into a labyrinth of the world I no longer remember.

While the pedestrians howled at the world around me,

I trudged further into the darkness

I had loathed so much.

I thought, or rather, hoped,

that it might wash away the patina of guilt

that had coagulated around my heart.

I saw my way out.

Hearing about the massive invasion of South Vietnam

by the communist armies of North Vietnam.

I killed that little girl.

It wasn't the first time,

nor the last.

And the efforts we are-

I didn't even know who I was anymore.

What I did know

was that I was a murderer.

And what we have done since then,

to end American involvement in the war...

In the eyes of my superiors,

I had served my country honorably

and I was thusly discharged with such distinction.

"Distinction".

If they only knew.

And then...

- Hawthorn Street. - This is Hawthorn Street.

I saw you.

To this day, I don't know what made me stop,

but there you were.

Next stop will be the last stop on this bus.

I'd never seen anything so beautiful.

You were wearing a teal ball gown

that appeared to me to be both regal and ridiculous.

Your brown hair was matted to the right side of your face.

And a galaxy of freckles dusted your shoulders.

I couldn't speak.

When I joined you at the seat,

you looked at me with those big green eyes,

and I could tell that you'd been crying.

And I said...

I, I...

Ladies and gentlemen, this is the last stop.

Please exit the bus.

Yeah. Yeah, I'm, I'm fine.

Where you headed?

Don't you speak?

I, uh...

I don't, I don't know.

I don't think I've ever known.

Okay.

Yeah, yeah. I'll, I'll play along.

Who's there?

Mustache who?

Oh, it's, uh...

It's been a long time since I, uh...

Thank you.

Yeah.

Before I knew it, you snatched my hand,

and led me on a dash through downtown and into a diner.

We sat at the booth at the five and dime

and talked like old friends.

We laughed as easily as we lamented.

And you confessed over coffee that you were engaged to a man

you didn't love.

A banker from some line of nobility.

Either way, his parents were throwing a soiree

to ring in the new year.

Hence the dress.

For my part, I shared more of myself

than I could have ever imagined possible at that time.

Didn't mention Vietnam, but I got a sense that you could see

there was a war waging inside me.

Still...

Your eyes offered no pity.

And I loved you for it.

Last many, many years

that people gathered here on New Years.

The only year that ever had that small a crowd was 1917.

Hell of a way to chime it in, huh?

You remind me of someone.

And in a few moments, we'll be turning over

to look at...

She speaks?

That will signify New Years

to an awful lot of people

all over the United States and Canada.

We're just getting ready to close up.

Can I get you guys anything? Dessert?

- Apple pie. - Pie.

A moment ago, I was planning to end my life.

In an instant, everything had changed.

Now I suddenly wanted pie?

What was happening to me? Who were you?

Why are they there? Very good question!

Could you excuse me for just a moment?

Very unusual and a very strange way

to celebrate New Years.

Moments from now, this giant crowd here in Times Square-

Hey!

Judy.

My name is Judy.

Judy.

I remember consulting myself in the mirror,

wondering if I should kiss you.

It was New Years in minutes, after all.

No, I couldn't do that.

Could I?

If I should tell you what I'd done

from the tunnels of that village a year before...

If I should return to the .44 caliber

that was tucked in my waistband...

I decided, ultimately,

that I was unworthy of the resuscitation

this stranger in a ball gown had given me,

and to turn my back on such sweet serendipity

would be the real disgrace.

On my way back to the booth, my heart thumped in my chest

like an angry judge's gavel.

And a future,

our future,

flicked in my mind.

When I reached the booth,

I had no idea what I was going to find.

You were gone.

As strangely as our union had begun,

so too had it ended.

I was devastated.

But somehow,

I knew.

I went back to that diner every day, for a year.

I think it's a parking lot now, but I never saw you again.

Are you good, doll?

Can I get you anything else?

From Time Square,

a roar like you've never heard before.

Here we go with the countdown.

Five.

Four.

Three.

Two.

One and happy, happy, happy, happy, happy...

I am an old man now, and all I know of you

is your name and that you lived in this city once

and even by some miracle, if I happened upon you,

I'm not sure I would recognize you.

Time is cruel that way.

In these intervening 42 years, I've lived a good life.

I've loved a good woman.

I've raised a good man.

I have hard days, too.

My wife passed away four years ago,

and my son, the year before.

I can still smell the smoke over Vietnam.

But then I think of you.

I never really stopped thinking of you.

So, wherever you've been, wherever you are,

and wherever you're going,

know this.

You're always with me.

But as I cast this coin into the wishing well of the cosmos,

it occurs to me,

after a million what-ifs in a lifetime of lost sleep,

that our connection

wasn't missed at all.

I met you on that night, back in 1972.