2بخش

On your feet…

…maggot!

That is no way to address an officer, sergeant.

It’s how I address a slack-jawed recruit

before I bust his hole with my boot heel, maggot.

Hold up there, sergeant.

Can I help you, sir?

Where the hell am I, sergeant?

Forward Operating Base Heathrow.

You just came in with the fresh recruits.

Do I strike you as a fresh recruit?

No, sir, you do not.

My name is Major William Cage.

I’m an American officer. Officer?

This is processing.

There’s no officers here. I got this, sergeant.

How the hell did you end up in processing?

What was it? Poker night? Bachelor party?

If it’s all the same to you, sergeant…

I’d like to explain that to my commanding officer in Washington.

If you’ll take me to a phone… Haven’t you heard?

We’re T-minus-Haul-Ass-H-Hour.

We’re fixing to invade France.

This whole FOB’s on lockdown. No calls, in or out.

Name is Farell. That’s right.

Master Sergeant Farell.

You’re an American.

No, sir. I’m from Kentucky.

Okay. Well, look at me.

And look at where I am.

I’ve been railroaded.

It’s obvious I don’t belong here.

So please, sergeant, there has to be a way I can make a phone call.

I’ll get you sorted out, sir.

Thank you. Right this way.

Where you from in Kentucky?

Little town called Science Hill. Heard of it?

I have now.

Where you from? Cranbury, New Jersey.

They grow a lot of cranberries there?

Tomatoes. Best you ever had.

Why they call it Cranberry, then?

Why they call it Science Hill?

Never asked. Don’t care.

After you.

You’re not taking me to a phone, are you?

No, I am not.

Seems about the only honest thing you said to me so far is your name.

Says here you’re a deserter.

It says here you were caught impersonating an officer.

It says here you’d likely try to make an outside call, compromise security of this operation.

Anything to get out of combat duty tomorrow.

But that’s not gonna happen.

Ever

Private Cage.

Rumor is a terrible thing.

Come nightfall, these men will all reach the same conclusion.

That you’re a coward and a liar, putting your life above theirs.

Good news is there’s hope for you, private.

Hope in the form of glorious combat.

Battle is the great redeemer.

The fiery crucible in which the only true heroes are forged.

The one place where all men truly share the same rank…

…regardless of what kind of parasitic scum they were going in.

Squad! This here is Private Cage.

Private Cage, J Squad.

Isn’t that an officer’s uniform?

Those sure ain’t officer cufflinks.

I see everyone is having a productive morning.

You know, it gives me a swell of pride knowing

soldiers of your caliber will be leading the charge tomorrow.

Tip of the spear.

Edge of the knife.

Crack of my ass.

Shit.

Private Kimmel, what is my view of gambling in the barracks? You dislike it.

Nance, why do I dislike it?

It entertains the notion our fate is in hands other than our own.

And what is my definitive position on the concept of fate, chorus?

Through readiness and discipline, we are masters of our fate.

You might call that notion ironic.

But trust me, you’ll come around.

Private Cage is a deserter.

I’m making you all personally responsible for his deliverance.

He will be combat ready at 0600 tomorrow.

Combat ready?

Cage is under the delusion he does not belong here.

We must dissuade him of this delusion.

If he tries to run, feel free to dissuade him until he can’t piss standing up.

You have to listen to me.

I will never be combat ready. I envy you, Cage.

Tomorrow morning, you will be baptized. Born again.

PT! Ten minutes!

You’re not in uniform private.

Could all combat-ready squadrons proceed…?

It’s a new day, people.

Destiny calls.

The world expects only one thing from us: That we will win.

Come on, Kimmel, let’s have it!

For chrissake, Kimmel.

I got to be free, man.

Let’s get this show on the road. I gotta suit up.

What’s that noise? That…

Let’s go.

Listen, I’ve never been in one of these.

I’ve never been with two girls at the same time.

You can bet when that day comes, I’ll make it work.

Kimmel.

It’s Griff.

Griff. Griff. You bet.

Just think about this, man. I could hurt somebody with it.

Not with the safety on, you won’t.

But…

Where is the safety? Exactly.

It’s time.

Bloody hell, it’s the Full Metal…

Move.

Griff. Sarge?

Take care of Private Cage. What, all day?

Something tells me it won’t be nearly that long.