Platoon Page #2

BARNES (CONT'D)

What the hell's the matter with you Taylor! You a

sorry ass motherf***er. Fall back.

He grabs Chris's machete out of his hand and bulls his way into

the foliage, tearing it apart, setting a new pace.

Chris being bypassed by the column, their eyes on him. He is

swatting at the red ants that are all over his neck.

GARDNER, another new recruit, fat, hustling up to replace him.

A big and black medic - DOC - comes over, gentle eyes and manner;

with him is Sergeant ELIAS, concerned.

DOC:

You okay?

CHRIS:

Ants. I got ants on my neck ...

(shaking them out)

DOC:

(helping him)

Yeah, black ants are killers, you look sick man. You

need a little salt.

(reaching into his satchel)

Sergeant Elias, a handsome, graceful dark-haired Indian kid of

23, the squad sergeant, is taking items out of Chris' pack - air

mattress, extra unnecessary clothing, extra canteens, grenades,

gas mask, books.

ELIAS:

(shaking his head, amused)

You're humping way too much, troop, don't need half

this sh*t. I'll haul it for you but next time you

check it out with me okay?

Chris nodding, grateful, panting.

The men passing, watching. Chris sorry about this, trying to

keep up face.

BUNNY, a young 18 year-old with an angel's face, is pissing in

the dead gook's face.

KING passes, glances at him.

KING:

You're a sick mother Bunny.

Bunny laughing about it.

Chris standing there one moment, fighting for his breath,

suddenly passes out, going over with his 70 pound rucksack,

hitting the ground with a loud bang.

ELIAS:

(concerned)

Hold it up.

On Chris - his eyes opening. He seems all right.

CHRIS:

(trying to get up)

I'm okay ... I'm okay.

Chris crumples backwards. Elias helps him.

EXT. COMPANY PERIMETER #1 - DUSK

The COMPANY - about 100 men who seem insignificant amid the size

of the surrounding jungle - is digging into a perimeter of some

100-yard radius. A RESUPPLY CHOPPER lifts off in a flurry of

blowing leaves. Bare-chested soldiers chop down trees, clear

fields of fire, set out claymores, fill sandbags, chow down.

Little fires snake up against the greying red horizon.

EXT. COMPANY PERIMETER 31 - DOC'S POSITION - DUSK

We cut close on a pair of grungy feet - the staple of the

infantry - moving up to DOC, the Medic, bandaging them for FU

SHENG, a Hawaiin kid.

EXT. COMPANY PERIMETER #1 - RHAH'S POSITION - DUSK

Rhah sets his tripflare. Crawford, with him, putting out a

claymore.

EXT. COMPANY PERIMETER #1 - RODRIGUEZ - POSITION - DUSK

Back in the perimeter RODRIGUEZ sets his M-60 in the newly dug

foxhole. SAL, next to him, is shaving in his helmet.

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