-Here's that 410. -Right, Moe. Thanks.
I've been pumping pussy since Christ was a corporal.
I've gotta tell you, the best poontang I ever paid for was in Da Nang.
The girls were checked out daily.
And we got laid in a safe, orderly, proficient, military manner.
Until some suckhead writes home to Mama...
...and says he dipped his wick in the Republic of--
Well, then the shit hits the fan.
A committee of congressmen, who, asshole to asshole...
...couldn't make a beer fart in a whirlwind...
...starts telling your basic ass-in-the-grass Marine, "No more short time."
We respond in true Marine Corps fashion.
We salute and do an about-face...
...double-time back to the boom-boom garbage dump...
...where we proceed to get the clap, the drip, the crabs...
...and generally a poor attitude towards the female of the species.
War is hell, boy. That's a fact.
I don't like soldier boys.
Say what?
You wanna pop that puppy's can, you don't gotta grease him so hard, jarhead.
Sounds like you're a man of experience.
What the fuck's that mean, grunt-shit?
It means be advised that I'm mean, nasty and tired.
I eat concertina wire and piss napalm.
I can put a round through a flea's ass at 200 meters.
So you go hump somebody else's leg, mutt-face, before I push yours in.
Ain't gonna be so smart with your balls stuffed in your mouth, jarhead.
Oh, shit.
Hang on to this, boy. I think war's just been declared.
Why don't you just sit there and bleed a while before you taste some real pain?
Maybe first I carve me some faggot wings.
He'll kill him.
Then again, there was this dusky gal in Bangkok.
A real crossway breezer, I swear.
Thank you for your testimony, Officer Reese.
Sergeant Highway.
Drunk and disorderly.
Fighting in a public establishment.
Urinating on a police vehicle.
Well, it seemed like the thing to do, sir.
Just because there's no war going on...
...doesn't give you the right to start one every time you get drunk.
I'm taking into account your excellent military record...
...and your commitment to the security of this great nation.
But this is your last chance.
One-hundred-dollar fine. Next.
Your nightstick file for divorce, Reese?
Who do you think you are, pissing on my squad car?
Think you can break our rules and just walk away?
We're supposed to wet our pants over your dress blues and colored ribbons?
Read your file sometime, hero. Check the dates.
It's ancient history. One night, you'll be puking blood in an alley.
You'll look up, see me. Then we'll see.
-Keep dreaming. -You'll pay full price.
-I don't give a serviceman's discount. -Too bad. Your old lady does.
Just about cleaned you out.
Makes you feel good, doesn't it, helping Uncle Sam battle dirty drawers?
Just pump the dog again, Jake, or are you always that slack-eyed?
Looks like you could use a lift.
Suck on this. Smooth as a prom queen's thighs, only not so risky.
Havana cured. Got a pal in Guantánamo in Supply.
We do each other favors. I got lots of friends. I can always use another.
-So we can do each other favors? -Yeah, sure.
If your pencil wasn't so sharp and your eyesight not so clear around here....
I could make your lot in military life a lot comfier...
...not to mention downright rewarding.
You get that contraband stogy out of my face...
...before I shove it so far up your ass you'll have to set fire to your nose to light it.
Gunny Highway. Major Devin wants to see you ASAP.
-At ease. That will be all, sergeant major. -Aye, aye, sir.
For chrissakes, Highway, relax.
Stop being so gung ho.
That's what I am, sir.
What do you got now, about 24, don't you?
And then some, sir.
Some men in your position would look forward to retirement.
Maybe take the wives on a round-the-world cruise.
But that's not your way, is it?
You choose to harangue my staff with a request for transfer to a...
...Fleet Marine Force unit.
The very unit you got busted out of some time ago...
...for insubordination. Conduct unbecoming.
That's true. I have had my differences with some limp dicks.
Highway!
I truly don't know whether to admire you or resent the living hell out of you.
Either way, it doesn't matter. You're out of here immediately.
What did I do?
Second Recon Battalion.
Second Marine Division. You're going home.
Aye, aye, sir.
Gunny Highway.
Sir?
Be careful what you wish for. You might just get it.
Whoa! Hut!
We're gonna bring up the last victim. A true-blood, born in Jersey.
He's the president of punk, the earl of funk.
Here he is, the next king of rock 'n' roll, ladies and gentlemen, Stitch Jones!
Stitch Jones?
Whoa, whoa.
Do I mess with y'all all when you play "Romance the Sheep"?
Bag these geeks. Keep America beautiful.
-Put a 10-gallon bag over their head. -Let's take care of this.
You look like the twin towers gone cellulite. Heh-heh-heh.
I can play country western. Give me a chance.
I know Merle Haggard, the Beverly Hillbillies.
Come on, man. I need the money!
-How far? -About two stops.
Shit.
You the maid?
I want the seat, but the shit ain't worth dying over.
Hell. You know.
Liz and Dick. Lennon and McCartney, even. Ali and Frazier.
They worked it out. So can we.
Stitch Jones is the name. Rocking and rapping is the game.
Pleased to meet you too.
Banged up my Corvette. But I figure it's a chance to meet regular people...
...dudes like yourself. People like my fans.
I'm a singer. Stitch Jones. Earl of funk. Duke of cool.
-Ayatollah of rock 'n' roll-ah. -Shut your face, hippie.
You say "hippie," man?
Ain't been no hippies for centuries. You been freeze-dried or doing time?
Whew.
One of those would sure go down nice.
I'd buy one from you, but I don't have my plastic. Usually my lackeys--
You can have one, if it shuts the hole under your nose.
Ah. Thank you, my friend.
Jones.
This doesn't mean you can blow in my ear. Tom Highway.
Yo, man, these ain't your magazines.
Somebody must have left them there.
"The Sexual Politics of Living Alone."
"The Big Commitment and You." Ah.
"Island Erotics: How to Stay Tan, Tickly, and Tantalized...
...in the Cool Waters of Jamaica."
Not bad, man.
Ahh.
"Sunday Sex with a Wednesday Lover."
Yo, man, that sounds like a song. Check it out.
I met her on a Wednesday She was the best
Come Sunday morning I needed rest
'Cause she didn't shave, She didn't use Neet
Tried to use my face As a bicycle seat
Word! Am I fresh?
Ahh. Ugh.
This chick's got some angry titties. Hostile projectiles.
-Put your shit in, you get frostbite. -She isn't so bad.
You wanna talk, I'll listen, but don't try to sell Stitch Jones...
...on making love or making music, because I'm an authority. Born to screw...
...and bred to sing. That's me. Now, I've gotta cut some Z's.
So if you don't mind, keep down the chatter while I get my beauty sleep.
Groupies are fun, but you need vitamin E. They wear you out.
-Anything else, general? -No, I'm fine.
What are all those medals?
I'll never tell. At least not while the sun's shining.
This babe is wack.
She doesn't know what's 12 inches long and white.
Nothing!
Hey, man, no offense. Just working on my routine.
I'll tell you what's black and bleeding if it don't shut its face.
Mellow, man. It's gonna be a nice day.
-Tell the driver I'll be right out. -I'm gonna use my plastic. My treat.
Well, thanks. I'll get the tip.
Oh, uh....
My buddy's gonna take care of that. He said to tell you:
"There's no sun shining in the men's john."
I'm here, baby, let's do some distance.
Son of a bitch.
Hey, crotch rot.
Gonna slurp my lifer's juice out of my own cup?
Yeah, I guess I should have gotten shots beforehand.
If your brain was as quick as your mouth, you'd be a 20-star general.
If I was half as ugly as you, I'd be a poster boy for a prophylactic.
Still a mean and nasty bastard.
Good to see you, Tom. Back where you belong!
Take it easy. Everybody's gonna think I'm spoken for.
Ten-hut.
Morning, sir.
Sergeant major.
Coffee, sir?
Negative.
Gunnery Sergeant Thomas Highway reporting for duty, sir.
That operation officer's farthole is sewed so tight he shits out of his mouth.
Academy?
Big-time football hero.
-When am I ever gonna get a break? -Never.
-Sergeant major. -Sir!
Bring in Gunnery Sergeant Highway.
Been in a long time.
I've felt a little heat, sir.
Korean. Dominican in '65. Three tours in Nam.
Hell, he's carrying so much shrapnel, he can't pass through a metal detector.
I haven't as yet had the privilege of combat.
I came over from Supply and Logistics.
An unappreciated field of endeavor, sir.
Quite.
My record of achievement thus far has been exemplary...
...and I fully intend for that to continue.
Sir.
I want this battalion to be the class of the division.
I expect my non-commissioned officers to lead by example.
Public fighting and insubordination to civilian authority are not good standards.
-It was a minor altercation, sir. -You make a habit of doing that.
A year ago you hit an officer. I went to Annapolis with that man.
You try that with me and you'll drag your butt in a sling for a month. You hear me?
Yes, sir.
I don't know what strings you pulled to get back in this division, but I don't like it.
This is the new Marine Corps.
A new breed.
Characters like you are an anachronism.
You should be sealed in a case that reads, "Break glass only in the event of war."
No tolerance for old-timers who think...
...you know better and can have it your way. Understand?
I understand a lot of body bags get filled if I don't do my job, sir.
Major.
Division has assigned Highway to our reconnaissance platoon.
Yes, recon.
My last sergeant was an old-time combat vet too.
But he went R.O.A.D. on me.
Retired On Active Duty.
Had a few months to retirement, figured he'd coast.
Allowed the men lapse into mediocrity.
You're close to mandatory retirement yourself, aren't you?
That's right, major.
Well, I ask for Marines...
...the division sends me relics.
The men in Recon Platoon are less than highly motivated, to say the least.
And I want those men in shape.
I'll make life-takers and heartbreakers out of them, sir.
Dismissed.
Is he always like that or just trying to make a good impression?
He consults his manual before he mounts his old lady...
...to ensure he performs in an orderly--
Proficient military manner.
Chow with Helen and me tonight.
Later, we go stomp some brain cells and tell some story.
-I'd like to, but I better get organized. -Sure, I understand.
Oh. Excuse me, sir.
I mean, gunny. Sergeant major.
This is Gunnery Sergeant Highway. He's been assigned to Recon Platoon.
Oh. Outstanding, welcome aboard. Well, I gotta hightail it.
I'm late for pre-scuba school.
Lord.
His mama know he's playing Marine?
By the way, he's Lieutenant Ring, your platoon leader.
Thanks a lot.
You didn't think you was just gonna tilt nipple to a bunch of no-rank fuzzbutts?
-Want me to intro you to your troops? -No, no, that's all right.
-Take my pickup. -Hey, thanks. Where is it?
Just tell by the sign. It says: "Sergeant major."
Is this Recon Platoon?
No speak English.
You?
My name is Gunnery Sergeant Highway.
I've drunk more beer, pissed more blood, banged more quiff, busted more...
...than all you numb-nuts put together.
-Major Powers has put me in charge. -We take care of ourselves.
You couldn't take care of a wet dream.
-God loves you. -I know that.
You men do not impress me!
Recon Platoon kicks butt.
-Ow. -If you ladies think you can slip and slide...
...because your last sergeant was a pussy...
...who was just marking the days, well, queer bait...
-...start acting like Marines right now. -Who invited you?
I'm not doing this because I wanna take long showers with you assholes.
And I don't wanna get my head shot off in some faraway land...
...because you don't habla. Comprende?
Oorah!
-You? -Yes, gunny.
I think you're fine
And you got that big behind
Well, well, well, well.
I'm here to tell you all that life as you know it has ended.
You might as well all go to town tonight. Laugh and make fools of yourself.
Rub your pathetic little peckers up against your honey, or stick it in a knothole.
Whatever it is, get rid of it, because at 0600 tomorrow...
...your ass is mine.
Where's your bunk?
Yo, man. Come on!
What the hell's going on?
Aah! Aah!
This is gonna mess up your karma, man. It's gonna haunt you in your next life.
-Let's have it. -What?
-The money from my ticket. -No need to use violence, man.
I'm a peace lover. I was down with the money on my luck.
Yeah. I got a little money right here.
-That's all I got. -And the meal?
-Meal? -Yeah, the meal.
All right.
-That's really all I got. -And the tip.
-That's really it, man. Aah! -You owe me.
Now, it's my will against yours. And you will lose.
So 0600 tomorrow.
That's 6:00 in the morning for all you people who don't habla.
Damn! He just tore off my ear.
Lucky he had a chance to escape before I kick his ass.
Big leatherneck, jarhead motherfucker.
-Something's gonna have to be done. -What are we gonna do?
-Wait till the Swede gets out of the brig. -That's it. The Swede, man.
-He'll rip his head off and dump in it! -Then eat it.
-I would've done that. -Goodbye, Highway!
Swede! Swede! Swede!
Hey, baby.
I called his wife--
You fool around on the first date?
Oh....
Damn you, boy. Don't you know how to write or call?
I didn't wanna cause you any sleepless nights, thinking about me.
-I'll get you a beer. -Great. I could use one.
That's for sure.
You look great.
They don't make them like you anymore, sweetheart.
Oh, hell. Sure they do.
But if you want a lot from a woman, you have to give a lot.
Not this kid. It seemed marriage and the Marine Corps weren't too compatible.
Panther piss. The best years of my life were with a Marine.
If I was a little younger, I'd make you eat your words and curl your toes.
Yeah, I'll bet you could.
Aggie always kept a smile on your face.
That was pain.
Tom, she's in town.
Hmm. Well, I figured as much.
If she's looking for more alimony, I'm so broke I couldn't get out of sight...
...if it took a quarter to go around the world.
She's cocktailing over at the Palace.
I figured she'd be married to a general by now.
Uh....
Can I get my old room back?
-Hell, yes. Are you gonna see her? -Hell, no. Can I run a tab?
Hell, no.
Tough woman.
And now, back from an awesomely successful tour...
...the earl of funk, the duke of cool...
...the ayatollah of rock 'n' roll-ah:
Stitch Jones!
Stop telling me what to do
And that goes for your mama too
Ask me and I'll tell the truth He-hey
You need to call up Dr. Ruth
Girl, you know I love you But I ain't stupid
Said you know I love you But I ain't stupid
Don't be illin'
I'm just chillin' No need to make a killin'
A kiss is just as thrillin' And I'm still willin'
So forget all about it Baby, we can do without it
Yo, if you shout about it Believe it, don't doubt it
Your daddy works at IBM, baby
So good for you Good for them
Baby Your brother says he's being nice
I don't need his free advice
Girl, you know I love you--
Okay, what will it--?
Aggie.
-What do you want? -A beer.
-What are you doing here? -Ordering.
Shake it, don't break it No need for you to fake it
I know we can make it
Girl, you know I'll turn you out
Make me scream I need to shout
Kiss me And you make my day
I love it when you talk that way
You even remembered the brand.
Bad whiskey, bad sex and bad men, I never forget.
You didn't talk dirty like that when we were married.
Heh. Always. Only you were never there to hear it.
-Look, Tom, I'm working. -Hey.
You look great.
-The lights are low. -No, I mean it.
-I'd recognize you coming and going. -Save the banter for your bimbos.
It's late, I'm tired, my feet hurt. What are you doing here?
I'm back with recon.
And you just happened to wander into the joint? Ain't life grand?
-I didn't come here to fight. -You mean old dogs do learn new tricks?
I just come here for a beer, and you're ragging my ass already.
Aggie, is there a problem here?
No, as a matter of fact, I'd like you to meet one of my favorite exes.
This is Thomas Highway. This is Roy Jennings, he owns the Palace now.
Heard all about you. And your bullshit heroics.
Uh-- Uh-- Tom is just gonna leave. Heh.
Aggie, I'll take you home after we close up...
...as usual.
You sure can pick them, I'll tell you.
Hah. Look who's talking.
Ah, you know I love you
Oh, please And I ain't crazy neither, hah!
All right.
I'm gonna play something from N.Y.C. I want all of you to rock the house!
Why don't you get your hair cut, huh?
You're so ugly, you need to be out at the airport sniffing luggage.
-You think you're funny? -Tell you what:
Y'all, cross your legs, hold your noses and fart.
-You could clear out your minds. -Say what?
Yo, yo, yo! Tell you what.
Don't start no S-H, won't be no I-T. We got ladies here.
Point yourselves this way, have a drink with the nation's finest.
-All right. -Chill out.
Hoo! Hoo!
Knock it off! I said knock it off, goddamn it!
Sit down, buddy!
-Why don't you lay off them? -Why don't you stay out of this?
-It's none of your business. -What are you, some kind of smart-mouth?
-I'm just trying to sing here. -You get off on rousting Marines?
Leave it alone. It doesn't concern you.
-I chew on jarheads and spit them out. -You do?
Why don't I bend you over that table then, and nail you in the keister?
-What are you talking about? -That's what your persuasion is.
I'll send you home with an "I just pumped the neighbor's cat" look on your face.
-What kind of faggot talk is that? -You have no right to do this.
Roy, man. He's just pulling your leg, man.
They don't mean nothing. Who'd have the bad sense to fuck with Roy Jennings?
I mean, welcome to fantasy disco, huh?
The hell with both of you.
And you're out, Jones. Hit the road.
And you watch it, funny man.
Get your tight little butt out of here.
-I never want to see you in this place again. -I left my beer.
-I have got a future here, damn it! -Cocktailing?
No, with Roy.
Maybe I expect better out of an ex-wife of mine.
He's an improvement over you!
I don't believe this shit, man!
I'd have kicked Roy's ass if I wasn't protecting you.
Redneck people love me. So you owe me one. I saved your life.
This doesn't mean we're gonna be swapping spit in the shower.
Fuck this jarhead sucker.
Drop your cocks and grab your socks.
Off your ass and on your feet. Get up!
Knees to the breeze in five minutes.
-It's goddamn 5:00. You said 6:00. -So I can't tell time. So I lied.
Maybe some communist's gonna make an appointment to pop you a new asshole.
Let's go! Move out! You're Marines now. You improvise. You adapt.
Four minutes. Fall out.
Shit.
We move swift. We move silent. We move deadly.
Only one shake of those wangs. Any more than that constitutes pleasure.
-Sleep well? -Man, this is a nightmare!
Wake me up, Mama!
-Gunny, platoon's formed for PT. -Take your post.
The Marines are looking for a few good men.
Unfortunately you ain't it.
We will blaze a path into battle for others to follow.
Surrender is not in our creed. Let's hear you say that.
Surrender is not in our creed.
Louder, or next time you get R and R, you'll be collecting pensions.
-Surrender is not in our creed. -Louder!
Surrender is not in our creed!
Oorah.
-Strip off those T-shirts. -What?
What's he talking about?
You'll all wear the same T-shirts or none at all.
-Shit.... -He's crazy.
-What's your name, Marine? -Lance Corporal Fragetti, gunny.
You shouldn't litter, Fag-etti. It's ecologically unsound.
What's your name?
-Aponte. -Yours?
-Profile. -Yours?
-Quinones. -Yours?
Collins.
All right, Colitis, Cojones...
...Prophylactic, Ajax.
You boys are handsome.
You ladies look like models.
I want your hair high and tight tomorrow morning. Everybody.
When you start looking like Marines, you'll feel like Marines...
...and pretty soon you'll act like Marines. Right face! Forward march!
Left, your left, your left, right, left....
Left, right, left, right, left....
When my boy Swede gets out of the brig, this sucker's dead.
-You got that right, bro! -Right on!
Ooh-oh-oh-oh!
-Whoa-ho-ho. -Turn right!
Mama, Mama, can't you see
What the Marine Corps has done to me
Used to drive a Chevrolet
Now I'm marching every day
Cojones, give us a cadence.
Your girlfriend's gonna weep when I bite that finger off.
-Give me a cadence now! -I don't remember any.
Think fast or I'll run your ass until midnight.
Do it, man! This dude is certifiable.
Model A Ford and a tank full of gas
Handful of pussy and a mouthful of ass
Yo, man, what's this sucker, lost?
What's he gonna invade, South Carolina?
All right, men, let's smoke this sucker's ass. Come on!
Asshole.
What did they put in his Geritol?
Lieutenant.
Oh. Gunny. Good morning. Missed you and Recon Platoon at PT.
-The men and I were getting acquainted. -Excellent.
I want to freelance them for a while. To evaluate them.
There's nothing on the schedule. You want me to join you?
You have important work here.
I am preparing a paper on tactics and strategy for the War Club seminar.
Oh, it's fascinating stuff. Ow.
I don't know if the major told you...
...but I was commanding officer of my ROTC detachment in college.
I'll sleep better at night knowing that.
Thank you. What college did you go to?
Heartbreak Ridge.
Heartbreak Ridge? I've never heard of that school.
Shit!
Oh, yeah, that looks nice. Real nice.
Oh, yeah.
Slick.
Smells like a Ben Gay factory around here.
Strip off those T-shirts.
-We're all the same. -Same as me?
-How are we supposed to know--? -You improvise, overcome, adapt.
Now, get off those goddamned T-shirts now.
Platoon, right face.
Forward march!
You'd get away with that with Tyler. But this cat, he's nuts. He'll catch you.
Don't worry yourself.
Hey, man, the few, the proud, the chumps.
-Oh, no! -Man, we can't win for losing.
He must have the key to the PX.
Anybody else got a better idea?
Where's Aponte?
He's sick, man. He looked like living proof of life after death.
Went to get checked out.
-That's right, gunny. -Yeah.
I want the barracks field-dayed and squared away ASAP today.
We cleaned them just a while ago.
Yeah, gunny, you know, it's Saturday.
Well, let's have a show of hands.
How many people think the squad bay is ready to go as is?
-Yeah! -There you have it. Democracy in action.
-All right. -We'll run instead. Attention!
Right face!
Forward march!
Double time!
What the hell's going on, man?
This is the AK-47. The preferred weapon of your enemy.
And it makes a distinctive sound when fired. So remember it.
Let's move out.
Oh, man, that's bullshit, man.
He's shooting at us. What the fuck? I don't need this, man.
That's wrong, man.
Yo, you all, check the way he's always squinting his eyes.
Trying to talk all tough.
I should slap him myself just to call his bluff.
Don't do that, man He's just a jarhead fool
You're right. But hold me back
In case I lose my cool Because we're the Recon Platoon
We always gung ho
Gung ho to party
-Or watch The Late Show -Till Highway came along
His abuse we don't need But we'll end this bullshit
When Highway meets the Swede
-He gonna kick his ass. -Right!
-Highway, I heard you were back. -Webster.
These retards couldn't fight their way out of a shithouse.
Is that where you've been?
Me and Major Powers are building an elite company of fighting men.
The only thing you could build is a good case of hemorrhoids.
-What? -You're blowing all your ammunition.
Mr. "I hate Americans" will make you into Swiss cheese.
-Slow down your fire. -It's not my fucking fault.
The fucking weapon is fucking fucked up.
Nothing wrong with that rifle. Keep it tight.
Did you wake up with a piss-pot on your head?
-No, gunny, I wore this in your honor. -Is that so?
This is a classic piece of issue.
You know, sands of Iwo Jima, Khe Sanh. All that old antique stuff.
A nice tribute to an aging veteran as close to retirement as yourself.
I'm touched.
You know, a recon way of saying welcome and, inevitably, goodbye.
And the Kevlar helmet you were issued?
That didn't by chance find its way into a pawnshop in town, did it?
No way. That's a serious implication.
-We're responsible for these. -That's right, you are.
So I want Kevlar on your head by 1900 or you won't have a head to wear it on.
Yes, sir, Gunny Highway, sergeant, sir.
Gunny, my weapon's jammed.
-What the--? -Oh, shit!
Asshole.
-What the--? -You all right?
Major Powers is gonna teach you how to discipline your men.
If Powers ever comes to a sudden halt, your face is gonna go halfway up his ass.
Profile won't make it back to the barracks.
Powers is cold-blooded, man.
Left...
...right...
...left.
Come on, Profile.
Don't give the prick the satisfaction. You can make it.
Recon!
What did you say, gunner sergeant?
I said, "Don't give the prick the satisfaction," sir.
"Sensitive dialogue during communication of the relationship--"
-Follow you home? -Sure, why not?
Come on, guys. Somebody see what shirt he's wearing.
It don't matter, he'll find something to complain about anyway.
Life was a hell of a lot easier before Frankenstein paid a visit.
How am I gonna play American Bandstand?
This macho shit is bad for my hands.
People, fall out.
I said fall out. Now!
We ain't going no place.
-All this play-war stuff is bullshit! -Yeah.
Gunny, this is all a question of mind over matter.
We no longer mind because you don't matter.
You've been voted out of office, baby.
Mr. Jones...
...you fall out on that street or I'm gonna kick your ass off this planet.
Oh, I don't think so, babe. Swede?
Swede, Swede, Swede....
Ah. Gunny, I'd like you to meet my big friend, Swede Johanson.
Swede, say something charming to the man.
I'm gonna rip your head off and shit down your neck.
See, Grungy Highway, we ain't got no use for you no more.
Hit the road, Jack.
And don't you come back
No more, no more, no more
Stick your chin up, man.
Higher.
-Christ. -Goddamn.
Now, get your ass out on that street, ladies, right this second!
I'll check you later, Swede. Yeah.
Sir, I'll wait outside for the MPs to come.
Negative, Johanson. You're gonna become a Marine right now.
-Fall out. -Yes, sir.
Good morning, men.
I thought I'd lead you through this exercise.
Couldn't find Gunny Highway, though.
I don't know where he went.
Good Lord, what was that?
-Sir, that's an AK-47 assault weapon. -The preferred weapon of our enemy.
It makes a very distinctive sound when fired at us, sir.
Yes, it does, doesn't it?
-Good night, Aggie. -Good night, Roy.
Hold up. I'll follow you home.
No, you go ahead. I've got some pains.
-Oh, I got it. -Not tonight you don't.
"Sensual communication, meaningful...."
Panther piss.
Glad to know some things don't change. You still know what a woman loves to hear.
Oh, I just happened to be in the neighborhood.
I thought maybe you'd like to sit down and talk.
Are you reading those magazines?
-What magazines? -Those magazines.
Oh. Oh, those. No, I-- Somebody must have left them here.
-Who? -Choozoo.
-He don't even know how to read. -Quit being so stubborn.
Why don't you sit down so we can talk?
I am not one of your troops that can be bullied.
Jesus. Was being married to me that bad?
Yes.
Platoon, ten-hut!
Thank you, gunny. What a fine morning for a military exercise.
Today we will execute an ambush against a numerically superior hostile force...
...by using cover, surprise, interlocking fields of fire...
...and the natural aggressiveness of a U.S. Marine.
Show me some poontang, I'll show you an aggressive Marine.
We will provide Powers and his elite fighting force...
...an accessible target to sharpen their superior skills.
This will be facilitated by the MILES gear each team wears.
As you know, when one of our men is shot...
...these laser-sensitive vests emit a beeping noise.
Excuse me, lieutenant, but are you hinting that we don't fight back?
Yes, gunny. The major likes to use the Recon Platoon as a training tool.
What happens when these men go into combat, and they're not prepared?
They just get dead.
Well, yes, I see what you mean.
Have you talked this over with Major Powers?
-Let's move them out, gunny. -Are you coming with us, lieutenant?
No, gunny, I have a doctor's appointment at 1100.
I hope it's nothing that will keep you out of the next war.
Platoon, right face.
Sling arms.
Forward march.
-You sure Highway can run the ambush? -He's the best with small unit tactics.
I doubt that.
Marines, today we're gonna kick some recon ass.
Platoon, ten-hut!
Right face. Forward march! Hut.
Man, when I joined the Corps, I thought I was gonna be jumping out of planes...
-...and fighting the enemy. -This is the new, modern Marines.
-We just jump out of our heads. -Only enemy we fight is boredom.
You hear that voice? It's calling me. Hollywood.
Stitch Jones is gonna be a rock 'n' roll star.
Don't forget your bros when you make it.
Front row, center seat, and all the girls I can't eat.
-Oh, I love leftovers. -Mm-hm. Word.
-Unsling those rifles. -What for? We're not supposed to win.
He watches too much prime time.
What was that?
You're dead, Marine. You tripped on four booby traps.
Now we have to send out a search party for your testicles.
Now, where the hell's your backup?
Profile.
What good are you back there? Without cover, I get my ass blown off.
While you pump the neighbor's dog, we get every swinging dick in this platoon killed.
That's what we're here for.
-What? -We're here for that.
We've ambushed Powers three times, always here. We know what we're doing.
Shit-for-brains, who says we're gonna ambush Major Powers right here?
Didn't you hear Lt. Ring?
Major Powers wants us to die in a loud, grotesque, military manner.
I don't give a fuck about Major Powers.
My job is to keep you men alive. Now, let's move on.
We'll be coming to the ambush site over the next hill.
Roger that.
It sure does help, knowing when and where you're gonna be hit.
Easy. Give them a few more yards, then we'll nail the coffin shut.
Chill out, here they come, man.
Hit them now!
Now.
Cease fire!
You're in the wrong ambush site!
Cease fire!
They're in the wrong ambush site!
Go, recon! Recon!
-Too bad, suckers! -Sergeant major!
-What? -Turn this damn thing off.
Makes a hell of a racket, doesn't it, sir?
This man's usurped authority, disregarded procedures...
...and ignored my personal directives for over a week. Why, lieutenant?
-I thought the training-- -You're supposed to be an officer.
Look up that word in your platoon leader's handbook.
Who gave you permission to deviate from the training schedule?
I needed to evaluate my men, sir.
They're not your men, you arrogant son of a bitch. They're the U.S. Marine Corps' men.
The 2nd Division's men. The 8th Marines Regiment's.
In other words, they're my men, and so are you. Get it?
The only thing I get is my ass shot off if I have a platoon that doesn't know the job.
You'll follow my program, no questions asked.
We go into combat tomorrow, you'll plant half those men.
You did it on your own, didn't you?
I can't fix it if I don't know what's broken.
Well, you make it easy.
Sir.
I gave the gunny permission to freelance his-- I mean...
...the men, sir.
-Wait outside, Ring. -Aye, aye, sir.
I'm gonna run you out of the Corps, Highway.
And you know what's funny? You're gonna do all the work.
Sooner or later, you'll disobey orders, circumvent procedures again...
...or just get drunk.
You can't help it. You're too old, too stupid...
...too prideful to change.
I'm gonna enjoy watching you fall.
Now, get out, and send in that idiot, Ring.
He wants to see you, lieutenant.
-Sorry. -No need to be.
Lieutenant?
Recon.
You'll let anybody in here, won't you?
Have one on the house to ease your pain.
You wanna get drunk?
Howl at the moon?
Get us both busted back to low-ass, no-rank, mud-rolling PFC?
I'm your man.
What are we, Chooz?
We're short-haired bastards with meat cleavers for pricks and kerosene for blood.
Yeah. We're all of that, that's for sure.
We're 0-1-1.
Say again?
Major Powers, one dark, cloudy morning, said to me:
"Sergeant major, you're 0-1-1.
No wins.
One tie, Korea.
And one loss, Vietnam."
I mean, we lost the war, but we won the battles.
I'm not gonna lose the next one because my men aren't ready.
What are you gonna do?
Make them Marines.
Stoney Jackson.
Best goddamn platoon sergeant...
...two mewling, short-pricked, pissant little fuckers ever went to war with.
-Yep. Heartbreak Ridge. -Heartbreak Ridge.
Your C.O. called.
Your battalion just went on full alert.
God bless.
-I can't find my tent. -Where's my poncho liner?
-Goddamn it! Who's got my web gear? -Profile, that's my canteen.
Aponte better get his cartoon face back here.
He's gonna do time for being AWOL.
People, let's have an equipment check.
Weapon?
Keep it simple. You've got your boots on. You're gonna walk into combat. Let's go.
-Bullshit. -Where's Aponte?
He's sick. Must be the beef. I ain't feeling too good myself.
-You've eaten worse. -Only when I'm shit-faced and silly.
Let's get going.
These DD 13-48 request forms are not filled out properly.
We're going to approach this in an orderly, proficient manner.
Yes, sir.
I want you to be sure each round of ammo is counted and returned...
...in the same way it was received.
-I'll dot the I's and cross the T's. -Sloppiness breeds inefficiency.
Your outfit could use some cleaning up, gunny.
Sir, I want to issue my squad leader some night vision glasses.
-I should've thought of that. -It's not part of your T.O. & E.
I thought it--
Fill out the proper request forms and send it through the chain of command.
Request forms?
Ten-hut.
At ease, men.
Major Malcolm Powers, sir. Annapolis, class of ‘71.
How are your men doing, major?
My men are ready to fight to the death to protect our country, sir.
Well, let's hope that won't be necessary.
Have we ever served together?
I don't know, sir. Sergeant Major Choozoo and I...
...were in the 2nd Battalion of the 7th in '68.
I had a rifle company in the 1st Battalion.
We sure as hell chewed some of the same dirt, sir.
That's for sure. What's your assessment of this alert?
It's a clusterfuck.
Say again?
Marines are fighting men. They shouldn't be sitting around...
...filling out request forms for equipment they should already have.
Interesting observation, gunny.
Carry on, major.
Now hear this. Now hear this.
This is it. We're going to war.
This has been an emergency deployment readiness exercise.
We are standing down.
The alert is canceled.
Damn it.
-Maybe next time, sir. -Gather your gear.
You heard him. We're moving out!
Hey!
Aponte.
-Oh, him. -Where is he?
What's wrong with you?
Nobody goes over the hill on me.
If you didn't have those fucking stripes on, I'd kick your fucking ass!
Since I'm not into violence, I'll refrain from kicking your ass.
I'm gonna give you a rebate on your life.
Besides, who the hell is Aponte?
He ain't heavy and he ain't my brother.
-Gunny Highway. -That's right. Gunny Highway.
Come on in.
-Sorry, Aponte, I had to tell him. -Don't worry. This is my wife.
Clean that up.
Look, gunny, I filled out all the forms there are.
But what the Corps gives you isn't enough for the family.
-So I took a job. -You got a job?
Yeah.
-Did you want out of the Marine Corps? -No. No way.
Then I guess we'll have to cut through all the red tape B.S.
-Yeah, we are. -Knock it off, will you?
Here. Here's a special fund. Gunnery sergeants only.
Don't worry. You can pay it back.
-Here, you better take him. Jesus Christ. -Thank you.
-What are you smiling at, shit bird? -I knew you were Santa Claus.
You ever pull another play like that, the only thing that'll beat you to the brig...
...is the headlights of the ambulance you're on.
Yes, sir, Gunnery Sergeant Highway, sir!
Hey, yo, you can't leave the duke of cool!
This man has no social graces.
So....
Lureen down at the Palace said you had the night off.
Lureen talks too much.
Can I buy you a beer?
Jesus.
You come stomping back into my life after all this time...
...with no warning whatsoever.
Interfere with me at my place of work, damn near start a brawl.
Almost lost me the only crummy job I could find.
Then you show up here, expecting me to...
...just smooth as silk, invite you in for a sit-down and a smile.
It's always the same, Highway. All balls, no brains.
-Is there something you're afraid of? -Yes.
I'm afraid I'll dent that thick skull of yours with this frying pan here.
It wouldn't be the first time for that, now would it?
No.
Nice place you have here.
Thanks. You want a glass?
Uh-uh.
Feet still bothersome?
Well, I hawk booze five nights a week, you know?
There ain't no senior prom looming on my horizon.
-To the old times. -Mm.
Just as long as you don't say "good times."
We had our share of those too, didn't we?
I don't know. I can't think that far back.
How you feeling, babe?
Terrific. Absolutely couldn't feel better.
So...
...what brings you here?
I'm back with recon, back where I belong.
So?
It's different this time.
How?
I'm coming to the end of it.
I don't know where I go from here. I just want it to end...
...as right as it was when I started.
You want some chips?
There's pretzels.
Yeah, thanks.
Fringe benefits of work.
Tell me something.
Did we mutually nurture each other?
I beg your pardon?
Did we communicate in a meaningful way in our relationship?
Relationship?
Mm-hm.
Hell, I thought we were married.
Well, I've been thinking about the past lately...
...and I was just wondering what went wrong.
With what?
With me...
...the Corps, with us.
That is so damn much like you.
You never could see that everything just doesn't fit so neatly into right and wrong.
What else is there?
It isn't that simple.
I went by those rooms we rented when we were first married.
Damn, they're small.
Yeah, well, they say everything shrinks with age.
Tell me something.
What did you want out of our marriage?
Well, we talked once about an avocado ranch...
...about buying a house with a barbecue in the back.
But then you would volunteer for every goddamn war that came down the pike.
Oh. Goddamn it!
-What's the matter? -How could I be so stupid?
-What the hell are you talking about? -You bastard.
-You changed tactics on me! -What the fuck are you talking about?
Gave up the frontal assault, tried to out-goddamn-flank me.
I am on to you. I want you out of here right now!
Jesus Christ, you're not acting very dignified for a mature woman.
Why, you old fucking Marine warhorse. I'll show you dignified!
You get out of here! Get out of here! Go on! Get the fuck out of here!
You better get your tail out of here or I'll get mad!
Take that, you old fuck!
I never want to see your craggy old face here again! You hear me?
Don't ever come back! Ever, ever, ever! How dare you....
She's as crazy as she's always been, for chrissake.
-You asshole! -Shit.
Fuck.
Goddamn it.
I hate you, Highway!
Fuck you!
Tonight's winner is...
...Miss Sarita Dwayne!
-Oh! -What a gal.
Hey, yo, wait a minute, man. That's bullshit. No.
-You're trying to rip me the hell off. -Nobody likes a sore loser.
I'm an equal opportunity ass-kicker. We gonna take a little vote.
All you all that voted for Miss Banana Titties, say, "Yeah."
-No. -Boo.
All y'all that voted for me, say, "Rock the house!"
-Rock the house! -Rock the house!
-Say, "Rock the house!" -Rock the house!
What's up? You all the faggot Mod Squad?
I don't play none of this jail give-up-the-booty bullshit.
Yeah, right.
Don't ask for my autograph.
Yeah, you can rob me. You can starve me...
...and you can beat me, and you can kill me. Just don't bore me.
-I'm glad I could help. -I owe you dinner.
Sounds good.
Try not to make a habit of that.
Jesus Christ.
Powers will thin-slice your prick and pitch your gonads if he finds out about this.
-Sergeant major! -Who the hell are you?
Jones, sir. Second Battalion, Recon Platoon.
Christ, Highway's platoon. Snap to, marine. Give me a hand.
-We're like brothers. -Like my grandmother.
Yes, well, I posted his bail.
-He needs you, Aggie. -Ha-ha. Until the next war.
Good thing we got him out.
Oh, shit.
Coffee.
Yeah, I always wanted to check this place out.
-Look at all this history. -Mary's served Marines from three wars.
How's he doing?
Aggie will put him back together again, just like she always has.
Thank you, ma'am.
Highway's something else, huh? High speed, low drag.
No one better to be with if you're in a hot LZ.
Heartbreak Ridge.
It was the truth.
What's Heartbreak Ridge?
Now, listen. We have to understand each other before...
...we go any further.
Are we going any further?
You're going to be out of the Corps soon. But you're gung ho, through and through.
You always will be.
And there is no room in my future for a...Marine.
I'm not sure I like the way you say "Marine."
I can say Marine any damn way I choose.
I earned that right.
That's right, you did.
I lived in a rat-hole when they brought those boys home...
...in those flag-draped metal coffins.
I don't think I got a wink's sleep in '68. Do you remember that year?
Yeah, I remember.
I'd wake up in the morning and turn on the TV. I'd eat dinner in front of it...
...eyes glued, hoping to catch a glimpse of you on the news...
...and then praying that I wouldn't.
And then I would crawl into bed and I would wonder: Where were you?
What were you doing? Were you alive? And I had no way of knowing.
I guess there's a lot of things that work harder on a woman than being shot at.
I swear, the not knowing was the worst.
Oh, I'm sorry.
That's all right, baby.
That's all right.
We went up and down that pile of dirt for six days and six nights.
Fixed bayonet, hand-to-hand.
Fought them something fierce. They gave back as good as they got.
Lots of men died. We were with the 23rd Infantry.
We joined the Corps later. Hell, we were even younger than you are.
Hmm. I never heard of no Heartbreak Ridge.
It ain't in any of the history books. Just a little piece of war.
Place didn't even have a name, just a number.
Stoney Jackson took one look and said:
"If this don't kill us, it'll surely break our hearts."
-Who's Stoney Jackson? -Little Mary's husband.
He was our platoon sergeant.
He was the one who recommended Highway for the Congressional Medal of Honor.
Gunny Highway won the C.M.H.?
He charged two machine gun nests by himself. He didn't sleep for three days.
The final human wave he held off almost single-handedly.
When it was over...
...there was me, Stoney Jackson, Tom Highway.
We were the only ones still alive.
What happened to Jackson?
-He was killed at Khe Sanh in '68. -Can I get you guys something to eat?
I can fix it in no time.
-No. -Uh-- No, thank you, ma'am.
Excuse me, ma'am. You don't happen to be...
...up and moving when Gunny Highway leaves for the base?
I pour his coffee and lay out his things.
Platoon, ten-hut.
Right face.
Forward march!
Each platoon will proceed to the objective, which in this case is the Battalion Bear Pit.
Whoever reaches it first will get a 72-hour liberty.
Sir. It'd be an honor if you'd accompany my platoon.
-Ugh. -Thank you, staff sergeant.
Get out of your seats.
-Johanson, tighten up that harness. -Gunny, I'm afraid of heights.
-So am I. -You are?
Jumping out of a perfectly good aircraft is not a natural act.
So let's do it right and enjoy the view. Come on.
Let's move.
We made it. We're the first platoon to reach the Bear Pit.
Not so quick, sir.
Oh, darn. First Platoon.
Major, it's Highway.
Damn.
Come on, men. Let's smoke them.
First Platoon, follow me!
Recon wins.
Gunny, you don't know your place. First Platoon is the victor.
I'd say we have ourselves a dilemma, sir.
Sergeant Major, I order you to declare 1st Platoon the winner.
Sir, that wouldn't be fair.
What do you propose to resolve this situation?
Matchup.
Okay, men, get them off.
Get your shit off, let's go.
-Yeah! Yeah! -Come on!
Come on!
Come on, shithead!
Get them out!
Come on, you fucking dickhead!
-I got him! I got him! I got him! -Pull!
Come on!
We've got him! First Platoon!
Aah!
Recon!
Recon! Recon!
Sergeant major, 1st Platoon wins!
I don't see it that way, major.
You're out of order. First Platoon is king of the pit.
-How do you figure? -Your man cheated.
-I say he improvised. -He cheated!
He adapted. He overcame.
There's only one way to settle this. Platoon sergeants, front and center.
Remember, sergeant, I'm leading your platoon today.
Old man, it's time for somebody to put you in your place.
Come on, major!
Let's go, gunny!
Man, it felt great beating Major Powers' elite fighting unit!
I've been bitten by every bug known to mankind.
No, these bumps make you look like you got muscles.
-I bet I have poison ivy. -Man, you can get permanent light duty...
...for all the crud on your body.
Your dream come true. You won't have to do this bullshit no more.
Fuck you. I'm getting pretty good at this.
Whoa!
This man must be sick, ladies and gentlemen.
I'll tell you sick.
Gunny Highway is the sickest individual it's been my sorry pleasure to come across.
Order today and get this record from Recon Records. Songs like:
-"Highway, You Sick Individual." -Yeah.
-"Polish My Weapon, I'll Polish Yours." -That's my song.
-"Bionic, Bionic Marine." -Bionic Marine.
-That's it. -Do that one.
Well, he kicked a lot of ass
At a place called Heartbreak Ridge
Don't fuck with Scarface Highway Baddest jarhead that there is
He's a bad psycho mother Bionic Marine
A leatherneck lifer Who likes the barracks clean
-He kicked Powers in the ass -Webster upside the head
If you fuck with this sick mother Then you gonna end up dead
He's a fire-pissing jarhead Bionic Marine
Salty dog don't wear nothing But Marine Corps green
-Ain't got time to shit or shower -Ain't got time to smoke a cig
I said don't fuck with Gunny Highway Or you'll end up in the brig
Tell you something else, man.
Highway won the Congressional Medal of Honor at Heartbreak Ridge.
-Check that out. Check that out! -C.M.H.?
I knew he was bad, but not that bad.
Agent Powers wants statements from each and every one of you.
What kind of statements?
Gunnery Sergeant Highway used live ammunition...
...with unauthorized weapons on the training exercise.
Says who?
I thought you guys didn't like Highway.
I heard that AK-47 fire coming from your A.O.
Don't you boys want to go back to the way it was? Nobody fucking with you?
It seems to me that no one's gonna fuck with us the way things are now.
There's weekend liberty in it for all of you.
I'll start with you.
I got nothing to say.
You.
This is gonna go hard on y'all if y'all don't cooperate.
We ain't got nothing to say to you, Webster.
Why don't you take your ass back to that faggot 1st Platoon of yours...
...and don't go away mad, just go away.
You've been told.
Bye, Webster.
Yeah!
-I hate social functions. -You're gonna love it.
Your presence is requested at the M.A.U. commander's open house.
Full military dress.
-Piss on that. -You will be there, Sergeant Highway.
Stand tall and look sharp so they can see a hero who isn't bleeding to death.
-Let's find the bar. -Good idea.
-How are you this evening? Thanks. -How are you?
Privileged to greet a Medal of Honor winner.
Thank you, sir.
Run into any clusterfucks lately?
No. Not lately, sir.
Thank you for stopping by. Enjoy the party.
I love watching the brass snap to attention when they see that ribbon.
What do you do at a party like this? Stick out your pinkie?
Just don't unzip and stick Old Blue out.
Didn't J.J. Johnson do that at a WAVE party in San Diego?
No, that was me. J.J. mooned the ARVN general at China Beach.
Here, let's drink a toast to J.J. and all the pieces of him we couldn't find.
Funniest guy I ever met.
One thing about a party like this, the conversation's so adult.
I think I'm gonna head for the back door of this place.
And lose all this joy?
You won't be brokenhearted if I cut in, will you?
I'll get over it. I'm gonna see what the chow's like.
Would you like to dance?
-Yeah. What are you doing here? -I'm still on the mailing list.
Hmm.
-Yeah? -Yeah.
Did I by any chance give you that perfume?
What's so funny?
I was just thinking...
...this reminds me of the senior prom and that chaperone with the ruler.
"Agnes Anne, you keep 8 inches of daylight...
...between you and that young man you're dancing with."
Yeah, I do remember that. Wasn't that the...?
The first night we ever...?
Yes. Yes, it was.
Agnes Anne, you were a wild creature, I must say.
What do your magazines say about that?
I don't know, I haven't gotten to that part.
-Are you still reading them? -Affirmative.
And what do they say about ex-wives?
Not too much. Just that the sex is great...
...because you don't have to establish a relationship or be meaningful.
-You really are trying to understand us? -The best I can, yeah.
Is that because you can't be a Marine anymore and you've got no place to go?
I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry.
It's all right. We've known each other too long to run away...
...just over a little thing like tearing each other's guts out.
Tom, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that. It just--
It just never seems to work out between you and me.
-With her husband. -I see.
-I'm having a great time. -It's a whole family gathering.
I've been thinking a little bit about that avocado ranch we talked about.
Tom, Roy has asked me to marry him.
What did you say?
Your attention, please.
The 22nd Marine Amphibious Unit's alert status has just been upgraded.
All officers and staff NCOs will immediately return to their units.
Thank you.
What's the deal? Is this another bullshit alert?
We're going to war, men.
Mother of Jesus.
We're gonna assist in an operation on the island of Grenada...
...to rescue American citizens there.
The island of what?
Grenada, a Caribbean island also known as the Isle of Spice.
It's 86 nautical miles northeast of Venezuela.
Our mission is to helocast into a small bay on the west side of the island...
...and recon in advance of the Marines.
I can't do that, man. I forgot my suntan oil.
Come on, it's time to earn your pay. Let's move it.
Pick it up. Let's go.
Now hear this. Now hear this.
Flight deck, prepare to launch helo. Prepare to launch helo.
Over there!
Your glasses.
Get ready.
Choozoo, do you read me?
This is Highway. Do you read me?
I want your platoon to recon toward the university.
Stay low around Powers, you hear?
See you when it's over.
Spread out. Spread out.
Jesus, what was that?
-AK-47. It has a distinctive sound. -Proceed swiftly and with caution.
Get that 60 going around the corner.
Cover my ass.
Highway's crazy, man.
They pulled out, lieutenant!
All right, Aponte.
Slowly.
Damn.
Cubans. Mm.
Three-man recon team.
Better spread out. I'm sure they got buddies around here.
Let's go.
Spread the fuck out. Let's go.
Okay. Go ahead.
We forgot the hot dogs. I'll go back to New York and get the hamburgers.
Are you as good with engines as your mouth?
-Jones is the name, hot-wire's the game. -Get on that cat.
Get on that cat with him.
-You set? Let's do it. -Let's go.
Swede. Get up there with that M-60.
Yeah!
I'm the ayatollah of rock 'n' roll-ah!
Stay right there, sucker.
Whoo!
Stay low.
Jesus, please forgive me.
Come on, let's go.
Let them know who you are so no friendlies get hurt.
Hello, happening hostages, I'm Stitch Jones, Mr. Funkadelic.
Try U.S. Marine, shithead.
It's all clear!
United States Marines!
Ah!
You've improved.
Goddamn it, gunny!
Uh-- U.S. Marines, ma'am.
-U.S. Marines! -Everybody all right?
You know what they say: A behind is a terrible thing to waste.
Delta Company said they'd give us surfboards and let us go down to the beach.
One of those students kissed me four times. I think I'm in love.
-Was he good-looking? -It was a girl.
Clean your weapons, check your ammo.
All secured. No casualties, no sign of enemy.
Very good. I want some pictures before we wrap this mission.
We encountered heavy resistance along the way.
Probably local fanatics.
Negative. Cuban regulars with Russian rifles.
That type of data has already been factored in.
-Battalion. -Go ahead.
Big Daddy says to get off your fat ass and get back in the war. His words, sir.
Says to recon that hill.
Some flier thinks he saw some armor.
-You're full of good news. -You're too ugly to live forever.
Gunny, recon that hill, but wait for Foxtrot Company before launching any assault.
Now, you stay in contact.
Shall I send back data, sir, or is that already factored in?
Move out.
Powers has the hots for you. Watch your back. Could be wedding bells.
All right, let's move out, recon. Form up.
All right, let's go.
Come on.
Keep moving.
Careful, guys.
Shit!
-Let's move! -Get down. Get down!
Get in the building!
No!
Move it!
Get in the building! Go!
Bad mistake, coming in here like this.
-It's my fault. -Apologize to their mothers.
Jesus, gunny!
Lay some steel on those targets.
Collins, Aponte!
Radio battalion, see if we can get some air support.
Yo, gunny, I think Profile's dead.
Don't let him die, gunny.
That's not up to me.
Come on, stay down, everyone. Let's go.
-How you doing? -I'm okay.
-Doing better than Profile. -I can still fight.
-We gonna make it out? -Why, got a date?
You never know.
Gunny, I got Profile killed.
It was his time. When it's your time, I don't give a damn how fast you run.
-I could've gotten them all killed. -But you didn't.
Just don't make the same mistake twice.
Right.
I think I figured out a way to call in an air strike if we can find where this line's cut.
Jones!
-That's the name, loving's the game. -Thanks for volunteering.
-Say what? -Get up and find where the line's cut.
Come on, don't stand there, damn it.
I wish I was back in New Jersey, watching The Flintstones.
I hate this bullshit.
Do you know who you're shooting at? I'm the ayatollah of rock 'n' roll-ah.
Probably don't speak no English. Banana-eating, bean-farting motherfuckers.
Hello? Hello?
-It works! -Damn right, it works.
Almost got my ass shot off for Ma Bell.
Hello? Operator?
I'd like to make an emergency long-distance call...
...to Camp Lejeune, North Carolina.
Collect.
What?
Anybody got a credit card? They won't make collect calls.
Have no fear, Stitch is here. I never go to combat without my plastic.
Yes.
It's 6-6-0...
...5-5-8...
...0-7-1-1.
Camp Lejeune.
Are you for real?
Grid 2-1-9...
...6-3-2-1-8--
-Did they get it? -I don't know. The phone went dead.
Give me that.
Gunny, where are you going?
They don't see our marker, we're in real trouble.
You don't know if the transmission got through.
Well, I'll have to improvise, sir.
Shit.
Shit, Highway's been hit!
What are we gonna do, sir?
Let's go.
Don't die, man.
Gunny!
Jones....
Just because we're holding hands...
...doesn't mean we're gonna take warm showers till the wee hours of the morning.
You hear me?
-Sucker, I thought you was dead! -Wishful thinking.
Well, lieutenant, what are we waiting for?
All right, you devil dogs.
-Let's take this fucking hill! -Oorah!
-Let's go! -Go, go!
Go!
All right, get them out of there!
Put your hands up!
-Bunker secure, sir! -Thank you.
-Corporal Jones! -Yes, sir.
-Move them out. -You heard the man! Move out!
Move it, ladies!
Just what the hell do you think you were doing?
Just enjoying the view, sir.
Well, you disobeyed a direct order.
I told you to stay in contact and not to take this hill without me.
Get on your feet, Highway!
Will all due respect, sir, you're beginning to bore the hell out of me.
-Who's in charge here? -I am, sir. Major Malcolm Powers.
Did you lead this assault?
Lieutenant Ring and Gunnery Sergeant Highway disobeyed a direct order.
I told them to wait for support, but they still charged up this hill.
Why?
We're paid to improvise, sir. Overcome, adapt.
I gave the order to take this hill.
Ring, this is gonna ruin your career.
-Are you new to the infantry, major? -Yes, sir. Come over from Supply.
-Were you good at that? -Yes, sir.
Then stick to it. You're a walking clusterfuck as an infantry officer.
This is a Marine amphibious unit.
My men are hard-chargers.
Ring and Highway took a handful of young fire-pissers...
...exercised some personal initiative, and kicked ass!
-Good work, lieutenant. -Thank you, sir.
See that some of those students are escorted back to Cherry Point.
Aye, aye, sir.
Well, you're dismissed.
What the hell are you two sorry-assed individuals looking at? Get out of my LZ.
Semper Fi.
Oorah.
Well, Chooz, I guess we're not 0-1-1 now, huh?
-There's my family. -All right!
-Got anybody here? -No, but it's a beautiful day...
-...and your boy Stitch is ready to play. -Give them hell.
Yeah, I'm gonna do that. Definitely.
Like I said, it's a beautiful day and Stitch Jones is ready to play, you know?
-Anytime, man. -All right, big guy.
You'll be a civilian soon. You can let your hair long, sleep late...
...and become an asshole rock 'n' roll star.
Sergeant Major Choozoo gave me re-up papers.
And you signed them?
Tell you the truth, gunny, I'm a better Marine than a singer.
You're also a lot dumber than I thought you were.
What about you?
No, I've had it. No room in this man's Corps for me now.
Besides, they've got you.
Michael!
Hi, honey!
He-hey!
I guess all this marching bands and parades and shit is old stuff to you?
Tell you the truth, this is the first time.
Well, well, well. There are my ladies.
Well, hey, gunny...
...duty calls.
What's happening?