Biloxi Blues Page #2

Good to see you.

Hello, soldier.

Hello.

Hi, Sergeant.

One, two, three, four!

Hmm.

One, two, three, four!

Detail, attention.

Sorry, men, perhaps I didn't

make myself clear.

Detail, ten-hut!

Good. Good.

At ease, gentleman.

My name is Toomey,

Sergeant Merwin J. Toomey,

and I'm in charge of this

platoon during your 10 weeks

of basic training here in beautiful Biloxi,

Mississippi,

after which you'll be sent to

some sh*t island in the Pacific

or some turd pile

in Northern Sicily.

In either case, returning

to your mommas and papas

with your balls intact

in highly improbable.

I speak from experience,

having served 14 months

in the North African campaign

where 73% of my comrades

are buried,

having donated a small portion

of my brains to this conflict,

the other potion

being protected

by a heavy steel plate

in my head.

I'd like you to answer

when your name is called.

The answer to that question

is "ho."

Not "yes," not "right,"

not "here," not "sir"...

any other unacceptable

form of reply

except

the aforementioned "ho."

Am I understood?

Peek, David P.

Ho.

Hennessey, James J.

Ho.

Wykowski, Joseph T.

Ho.

Selridge, Roy W.

Ho.

Carney, Donald J.

Ho.

Jerome, Eugene M.

Ho.

Epstein, Arnold B.

Ho, ho.

Are there two Arnold

Epstein's in this company?

No, Sergeant.

Just give me one goddamn "ho."

Yes, Sergeant.

Epstein, Arnold B.

Ho.

One more time.

Ho.

Do I make myself

clear, Epstein?

Ho.

Do I make myself

clear, Jerome?

Ho, yes.

Ho, what?

Ho, nothing.

You having trouble

understanding me, Jerome?

Ho, no.

I mean, no, ho,

Sergeant.

It's just plain ho.

Hey, Fred Astaire, are you

tryin' to tell me somethin'?

I have to go

to the bathroom, Sergeant.

How you gonna do that?

We don't have

bathrooms in the Army.

They had them in Fort Dix.

Not bathrooms, they didn't.

Yes they did.

I went in them a lot.

I'm tellin' you,

we don't have any bathrooms on this base.

You doubt my veracity?

No, Sergeant.

Then you got a problem, haven't you, Epstein?

Ho, ho.

You bet your ass,

ho, ho.

You know why

you got a problem, Epstein?

'Cause I have to go real bad?

No, son, you got a problem because

you don't know Army terminology.

The place where a US soldier

goes to defecate,

relieve himself, open

his bowels, sh*t, fart, dump,

crap and unload

is called a latrine.

Latrine, from the French.

Do you want to tell us what's

funny about that, Jerome?

Well, it's just that you said all

those words in one sentence, Sergeant.

Apparently,

I don't believe

you understand the benefit

of discipline, do you, Jerome?

The benefit?

Yes, I think I do.

Then tell it to me, Jerome.

What is the benefit of discipline?

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