When Trumpets Fade Page #2

a week up here,

you've earned that right.

You have not earned the right

to question my orders!

I am absolutely the wrong man!

That may be your opinion, Sergeant,

but it's not mine.

You've managed to stay alive for a week

That's something the rest

of your platoon couldn't do.

Call me crazy,

but from where I'm standin',

that makes you qualified for the job.

You're making a mistake.

Your opinion is duly noted, Sergeant.

Dismissed.

Sir...I've...in the woods, I've done things...

Sergeant.

Yes?

Dismissed.

Request permission for a Section 8.

I'm f***ed up, I can't do this,

I, I, I'm no good.

Listen to me, soldier, a week ago,

I had a company of almost 200 men.

Now I've got 50.

As hard as this may

be for you to swallow,

your efforts

to stay alive hold very little value

at this particular time and place.

What does hold value are the objectives.

The longer it takes to obtain them,

the more dead we'll be stockpilin'

at the side of the road.

Now it's my job

to obtain those objectives,

and I will utilize anybody

at my disposal to do so.

That includes you, Sergeant.

Now I'm just as sorry as hell

about your bruised nerves,

but you are out of your skull

if you think I'm gonna let you bail on

a Section 8. Is that clear?

Yes, Sir.

At 1400 hours, you will rendezvous

with your new squad.

You've got until

then to get your sh*t together.

Is that clear?

Yes, Sir.

Good...Now, get out of my sight.

Captain...when I f*** this up,

is it your fault or mine?

Mind if I tag along?

Suppose not.

I heard about your promotion.

Yeah? Where'd you hear that?

Pays to have friends, man.

Got a smoke?

Yeah.

You know, it's amazing really,

when you stop to think about it.

Whole platoon fingers its way

into the Factory and...

one guy makes it out to talk about it.

You got twenty-five or thirty guys dead

or dyin' and you walk out without

a scratch on ya.

It's my lucky day.

Yeah, lucky.

Well, that's one way of lookin' at it.

But not the only way...Right, Talbot?

There isn't anything sacred with you,

is there, Manning?

Warm, dry feet.

How'd you manage to get out, Manning?

Did you get cut off from

the rest of the platoon?

Trees get pretty thick out there?

Did you get lost?

Come on, what happened?

You got somethin' in that vat of yours,

just spill it.

All right. Look, it's like this.

See, your routine

isn't as seamless as you think it is.

Always hangin' back a little bit,

never volunteering.

Doin just enough to keep outta trouble,

but never enough to really help out.

I'm kind of an emotional guy.

Get one thing f***in' straight, man.

There is no hangback now.

You got a glob of greenies lookin'

at you to keep 'em alive,

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