FULL
METAL
JACKET
The screenplay by
Stanley Kubrick, Michael
Herr and Gustav Hasford
Based on the novel The short-Timers by Gustav
Hasford
1987
-----------------------------------------------------
FADE IN:
WARNER BROS. LOGO:
WARNER BROS. PICTURES
WB
A WARNER COMMUNICATIONS COMPANY
LOGO FADES OUT:
Music:
Johnny Wright's "Hello Vietnam"
TITLE: A STANLEY KUBRICK FILM
CUT
TO:
TITLE: FULL METAL JACKET
CUT TO:
1 INT. BARBERSHOP--PARRIS
ISLAND MARINE BASE--
DAY
Marine recruits having their heads shaved
with
electric clippers. The hair piles up on the floor.
2 INT.
BARRACKS--DAY
Marine recruits stand at attention in front of their
bunks.
Master Gunnery Sergeant HARTMAN walks along the
line of
blank-faced recruits.
HARTMAN
I am Gunnery Sergeant
Hartman, your Senior
Drill Instructor. From now on, you will speak
only when spoken to, and the first and last
words out of your filthy
sewers will be "Sir!"
Do you maggots understand that?
RECRUITS
(in unison)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you. Sound off like you
got a
pair.
RECRUITS
(louder)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
If you ladies leave my island, if you survive
recruit
training ... you will be a weapon, you
will be a minister of death,
praying for war.
But until that day you are pukes! You're the
lowest form of life on Earth. You are not even
human fucking beings!
You are nothing but
unorganized grabasstic pieces of amphibian
shit!
Because I am hard, you will not like me. But
the more
you hate me, the more you will
learn. I am hard, but I am fair!
There is no
racial bigotry here! I do not look down on
niggers,
kikes, wops or greasers. Here you
are all equally worthless! And my
orders are
to weed out all non-hackers who do not pack
the gear
to serve in my beloved Corps! Do
you maggots understand that?
RECRUITS
(in unison)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't hear you!
RECRUITS
(louder)
Sir, yes, sir!
Sergeant HARTMAN stops in front of a
black recruit,
Private SNOWBALL.
HARTMAN
What's your
name, scumbag?
SNOWBALL
(shouting)
Sir,
Private Brown, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! From now on
you're Private
Snowball! Do you like that name?
SNOWBALL
(shouting)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Well, there's one thing that you won't like,
Private Snowball! They
don't serve fried
chicken and watermelon on a daily basis in
my
mess hall!
SNOWBALL
Sir, yes, sir!
JOKER
(whispering)
Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
HARTMAN
Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's
the slimy
little communist shit twinkle-toed
cocksucker down here, who just
signed his
own death warrant? Nobody, huh?! The fairy
fucking
godmother said it! Out-fucking-
standing! I will P.T. you all until
you fucking
die! I'll P.T. you until your assholes are
sucking
buttermilk.
Sergeant HARTMAN grabs cowboy by the shirt.
HARTMAN
Was it you, you scroungy little fuck, huh?!
COWBOY
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
You little piece of
shit! You look like a fucking
worm! I'll bet it was you!
COWBOY
Sir, no, sir!
JOKER
Sir, I said it, sir!
Sergeant HARTMAN steps up to JOKER.
HARTMAN
Well ...
no shit. What have we got here, a
fucking comedian? Private Joker? I
admire
your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come
over to my
house and fuck my sister.
Sergeant HARTMAN purnches JOKER in the
stomach.
JOKER sags to his knees.
HARTMAN
You little
scumbag! I've got your name! I've
got your ass! You will not laugh!
You will not
cry! You will learn by the numbers. I will
teach
you. Now get up! Get on your feet! You
had best unfuck yourself or I
will unscrew
your head and shit down your neck!
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Joker, why did you join
my beloved
Corps?
JOKER
Sir, to kill, sir!
HARTMAN
So you're a killer!
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Let me see your war face!
JOKER
Sir?
HARTMAN
You've got a war face? Aaaaaaaagh! That's a
war face.
Now let me see your war face!
JOKER
Aaaaaaaagh!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! You didn't convince me! Let me see
your real
war face!
JOKER
Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
HARTMAN
You didn't scare me! Work on it!
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
Sergeant HARTMAN speaks into cowboy's face.
HARTMAN
What's your excuse?
COWBOY
Sir, excuse for
what, sir?
HARTMAN
I'm asking the fucking questions
here,
Private. Do you understand?!
COWBOY
Sir,
yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Well thank you very much! Can I be in
charge
for a while?
COWBOY
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Are you shook up? Are you nervous?
COWBOY
Sir, I am, sir!
HARTMAN
Do I make you nervous?
COWBOY
Sir!
HARTMAN
Sir, what? Were you about to
call me an
asshole?!
COWBOY
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
How tall are you, Private?
COWBOY
Sir,
five foot nine, sir!
HARTMAN
Five foot nine? I didn't
know they stacked shit
that high! You trying to squeeze an inch in
on
me somewhere, huh?
COWBOY
Sir, no, sir.
HARTMAN
Bullshit! It looks to me like the best part of
you ran
down the crack of your mama's ass
and ended up as a brown stain on
the
mattress! I think you've been cheated!
HARTMAN
Where in hell are you from anyway, Private?
COWBOY
Sir, Texas, sir!
HARTMAN
Holy dogshit! Texas! Only
steers and queers
come from Texas, Private Cowboy! And you
don't look much like a steer to me, so that
kinda narrows it down!
Do you suck dicks!
COWBOY
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Are you a peter-puffer?
COWBOY
Sir, no,
sir!
HARTMAN
I'll bet you're the kind of guy that would
fuck
a person in the ass and not even have the
goddam common
courtesy to give him a reach-
around! I'll be watching you!
Sergeant HARTMAN walks down the line to another
recruit, a tall,
overtweight boy.
HARTMAN
Did your parents have any
children that lived?
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
I'll bet they regret that! You're so ugly you
could be
a modern art masterpiece! What's
your name, fatbody?
PYLE
Sir, Leonard Lawrence, sir!
HARTMAN
Lawrence?
Lawrence, what, of Arabia?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
That name sounds like royalty! Are you
royalty?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Do you suck dicks?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I'll bet you
could suck a golf ball
through a garden hose!
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
I don't like the name Lawrence!
Only faggots
and sailors are called Lawrence! From now on
you're Gomer Pyle!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
PYLE has the
trace of a strange smile on his face.
HARTMAN
Do you
think I'm cute, Private Pyle? Do you
think I'm funny?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Then wipe that
disgusting grin off your face!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Well, any fucking time, sweetheart!
PYLE
Sir, I'm trying, sir.
HARTMAN
Private Pyle, I'm gonna
give you three
seconds--excactly three fucking seconds--to
wipe
that stupid-looking grin off your face, or
I will gouge out your
eyeballs and skull-fuck
you! One! Two! Three!
PYLE purses his
lips but continues to smile
involuntarily.
PYLE
Sir,
I can't help it, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! Get on your
knees, scumbag!
PYLE gets down on his FEnees.
HARTMAN
Now choke yourself!
PYLE places his hands around his throat as if to
choke himself.
HARTMAN
Goddamn it, with my hand,
numbnuts!!
PYLE reaches for HARTMAN's hand. HARTMAN jerks
it away.
HARTMAN
Don't pull my fucking hand over there! I said
choke
yourself! Now lean forward and choke
yourself!
PYLE leans forward
so that his neck rests in
HARTMAN's open hand.
HARTMAN chokes PYLE.
PYLE gags and starts to turn red in the face.
HARTMAN
Are you through grinning?
PYLE
(barely able to
speak)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I can't
hear you!
PYLE
(gasping)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Bullshit! I still can't hear you! Sound offlike
you got
a pair!
PYLE
(gagging)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
That's enough! Get on your feet!
HARTMAN releases PYLE's
throat. PYLE gets to his feet,
breathing heavily.
HARTMAN
Private Pyle, you had best square your ass
away and start shitting
me Tiffany cuff links
... or I will definitely fuck you up!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
3 EXT. PARRIS ISLAND--DAY
The training
platoon is double-timing in formation.
HARTMAN is calling cadence.
HARTMAN
. . right, left, right, left! Left, right, left,
right,
left! Left, right, left, right, left!
JOKER
(narration)
Parris Island, South Carolina.... the United
States
Marine Corps Recruit Depot. An eight-
week college for the
phony-tough and the
crazy-brave.
HARTMAN
Mama and
Papa were laying in bed.
RECRUITS
(chanting in.
cadence)
Mama and Papa were laying in bed.
HARTMAN
Mama rolled over, this is what she said...
RECRUITS
Mama rolled over, this is what she said...
HARTMAN
Ah,
gimme some...
RECRUITS
Ah, gimme some...
HARTMAN
Ah, gimme some...
RECRUITS
Ah, gimme
some...
HARTMAN
P.T....
REcRuITs
P.T....
HARTMAN
P.T....
REcRuITs
P.T....
HARTMAN
Good for you!
RECRUITS
Good for you!
HARTMAN
And good for me!
RECRUITS
And good for me!
HARTMAN
Mmm, good.
RECRUITS
Mmm, good.
HARTMAN
Up in the morning to
the rising sun.
RECRUITS
Up in the morning to the
rising sun.
HARTMAN
Gotta run all day...
4 EXT.
PRACTICE FIELD--SUNSET
Recruits, silhouetted against the sun, climbing
ropes, nets and ladders.
HARTMAN
...till the running's
done!
RECRUITS
Gotta run all day till the running's
done!
HARTMAN
Ho Chi Minh is a son-of-a-bitch!
RECRUITS
Ho Chi Minh is a son-of-a-bitch!
HARTMAN
Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year-
itch!
RECRUITS
Got the blueballs, crabs and the seven-year-
itch!
DISSOLVE TO:
5 EXT. PARADE DECK--DAY
HARTMAN marches the platoon
across a wide
expanse of asphalt. The recruits carry rifles.
HARTMAN
Left, right, left, right, left! To your left
shoulder .
. . hut! Left, right, left! Port . . .
hut!
HARTMAN
Left, right! Platoon ... halt! Left shoulder ...
hut!
PYLE
momentarily places his rifle on the wrong
shoulder and immediately
corrects himself:
HARTMAN spots this and walks up to him.
HARTMAN
Private Pyle, what are you trying to do to my
beloved
Corps?
PYLE
Sir, I don't know, sir!
HARTMAN
You are dumb, Private Pyle, but do you
expect me to
believe that you don't know left
from right?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Then you did that on purpose! You
want to
be different!
PYLE
Sir, no, sir.
HARTMAN slaps PYLE hard across the left cheek.
HARTMAN
What side was that, Private Pyle?!
PYLE
Sir, left side,
sir!
HARTMAN
Are you sure, Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN SlaPS pnE hard across the right
cheek,
Knocking his cap off:
HARTMAN
What side was
that, Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir, right side, sir.
HARTMAN
Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up
your fucking
cover!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
DISSOLVE TO:
6 EXT.
PARADE DECK--DAY
HARTMAN marching the platoon. - bringing up the
rear is PYLE, his fatigue pants down around his
ankles; he is sucking
his thumb and he carries his
rifle muzzle down.
7 INT.
BARRACKS--NIGHT
HARTMAN walks along the line of recruits in skivvies
holding their rifles and standing at attention in.
front of their
bunks.
HARTMAN
Tonight ... you pukes will sleep with
your
rifles! You will give your rifle a girl's name!
Because
this is the only pussy you people are
going to get! Your days of
finger-banging old
Mary Jane Rottencrotch through her pretty
pink panties are over! You're married to this
piece, this weapon of
iron and wood! And you
will be faithful! Port ... hut! Prepare to
mount! Mount!
On HARTMAN's command the platoon mount their
bunks
with their rifles and lie on their backs at
attention.
HARTMAN
Port . . . hut!
The recruits snap their rifles to the
port arms
position. over their chests.
HARTMAN
Pray!
RECRUITS
(in unison)
This is my rifle. There are many
like it, but
this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It
is my life. I must master it, as I must master
my life.
Without me my rifle is useless. Without my
rifle, I am useless. I
must fire my rifle true. I
must shoot straighter than my enemy who
is
trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he
shoots me. I
will.
Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and
myself are
defenders of my country. We are
the masters of our enemy. We are the
saviours
of my life. So be it .. . until there is no enemy
...
but peace. Amen.
HARTMAN
Order . . . hut!
The
recruits snap their rifles down to their sides.
HARTMAN
At ease!
HARTMAN turns off the barracks lights.
HARTMAN
Good night, ladies.
RECRUITS
(in unison)
Good night, sir!
HARTMAN
(to duty guard)
Hit it, sweetheart!
DUTY GUARD
Sir, aye-aye, sir!
8
EXT. PARADE FIELD--DAWN
HARTMAN drills the platoon.
HARTMAN
Right shoulder ... hut! This is not your
daddy's
shotgun, Cowboy. Left shoulder ...
hut! Move your rifle around your
head, not
your head around your rifle. Port ... hut!
Four
inches from your chest, Pyle! Four
inches!
9 INT. BARRACKS--NIGHT
HARTMAN marches the recruits through the squad
bay. Their rifles are at
shoulder arms and their
left hands clutch their genitals.
HARTMAN
This is my rifle! This is my gun!
RECRUITS
This is for fighting! This is for fun!
HARTMAN
This is
my rifle! This is my gun!
RECRUITS
This is my rifle!
This is my gun!
They repeat this over and over again as they
march
up and down the squad bay.
DISSOLVE TO:
10 EXT. PARADE DECK--DAY
HARTMAN marching the platoon, calling cadence.
11 EXT. "ARMSTRETCHER"
OBSTACLE--DAY
Hand over hand the recruits swing along the
"Armstretcher."
HARTMAN
Ten fucking seconds! It should
take you no
more than ten fucking seconds to negotiate
this
obstacle! Quickly, move it out! There
ain't one swinging dick
private in this pla-
toon's gonna graduate until they can get
this obstacle down to less than ten fuck-
ing seconds!
12 EXT.
"TOUGH ONE" OBSTACLE--DAY
HARTMAN watches as the recruits climb ropes
and
ladders to a high wooden tower above the platform
13 EXT.
PUGIL-STICK CIRCLE--DAY
PYLE and another recruit, wearing
football-style
helmets, batter each other with pugil sticks.
The
recruits are formed up around them in a cir-
cle. They cheer as PYLE is
beaten, to the ground.
14. EXT. "DIRTY NAME" OBSTACLE--DAY
RECRURTS
waiting in two lines for their turn.
HARTMAN
Next two
privates! Quickly!
The next two recruits struggle over the obstacle.
HARTMAN
Get over that goddamn obstacle! Move it!
Next two
privates! Quickly! Hurry up! Get
up there!
JOKER and another
recruit go over easily.
HARTMAN
Private Joker, are you
a killer?
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Let me hear your war cry!
JOKER
Aaaaaaaaaaaaagh!
HARTMAN
Next two privates, go!
PYLE and another recruit. PYLE is
hopeless.
HARTMAN
Quickly! Get your fat ass over there,
Private
Pyle! Oh, that's right, Private Pyle ... don't
make any
fucking effort to get to the top of
the fucking obstacle! If God
wanted you up
there He would have miracled your ass up
there by
now, wouldn't He?
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Get your fat ass up there, Pyle!
PYLE
Sir,
yes, sir!
HARTMAN
What the hell is the matter with you
anyway?
I'll bet you if there was some pussy up there
on top of
that obstacle you could get up there!
Couldn't you?!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
PYLE drops heavily to the groulzd.
HARTMAN
Your ass looks like about a hundred and fifty
pounds of
chewed bubble gum, Pyle. Do you
know that?
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
15 EXT. CHINNING BAR--DAY
Recruits are doing
pull-ups. HARTMAN watches
JOKER finishing many, many of them.
HARTMAN
One for the Corps! Get up there! Pull!
JOKER finally
drops to the ground.
HARTMAN
I guess the Corps don't
get theirs. Get up
there, Pyle!
PYLE tries to do a pull-up but
can't get to the top of
the bar.
HARTMAN
Pull! Pull,
Pyle, pull! One pull-up, Pyle! Come
on, pull! You gotta be shitting
me, Pyle! Get
your ass up there! Do you mean to tell me
that
you cannot do one single pull-up?
PYLE, exhausted from his efforts,
drops to the
ground.
HARTMAN
You are a worthless
piece of shit, Pyle!! Get
out of my face! Get up there, Snowball!
16 EXT. "CONFIDENCE CLIMB"--DAY
PYLE climbs a high obstacle.
HARTMAN
Get up here, fatboy! Quickly! Move it up!
Move it up,
Pyle! Move it up! You climb
obstacles like old people fuck. Do you
know
that, Private Pyle? Get up here! You're too
slow! Move it,
move it! Private Pyle, what-
ever you do, don't fall down! That
would
break my fucking heart! Quickly!
PYLE freezes at the top.
HARTMAN
Up and over! Up and over! Well, what in the
fuck are
you waiting for, Private Pyle? Get
up and over! Move it, move it,
move it! Are
you quitting on me? Well, are you! Then quit
you
slimy fucking walrus-looking piece of
shit! Get the fuck off my
obstacle! Get the
fuck down off of my obstacle! Now!
PYLE climbs
back down his side of the obstacle.
HARTMAN
Move it!
I'm gonna rip your balls off so you
cannot contaminate the rest of
the world! I
will motivate you, Private Pyle, if it short-
dicks every cannibal on the Congo!
17 EXT. ROAD--DAY
The platoon is
irregularly strung out on a road
nearing the end of a rapid, forced
march.
PYLE is at the end of the line ready to drop.
Supported by
JOKER, PYLE Staggers along as
HARTMAN bellows at him.
HARTMAN
Pick'em up and set'em down, Pyle!
Quickly! Move it up!
Were you born a fat
slimy scumbag, you piece of shit, Private
Pyle? Or did you have to work on it? Move
it up! Quickly! Hustle up!
The fucking war
will be over by the time we get out there,
won't it, Private Pyle?
HARTMAN gives PYLE a shove.
HARTMAN
Move it!
PYLE gasps for breath.
HARTMAN
Are you going to fucking die, Pyle? Are you
going to die on me!! Do
it now! Move it up!
Hustle it up! Quickly, quickly, quickly! Do
you feel dizzy? Do you feel faint? Jesus H.
Christ, I think you've
got a hard-on!
18 EXT. MUD OBSTACLE--DAY
The platoon tries to run,
through the mud. PYLE
half carried by JOKER and COWBOY falls taking
JOKER down with him.
HARTMAN
Quickly ladies! Assholes
and elbows! Move it
out! Get up there! Move it! Move it, move it,
move it!
19 INT. BARRACKS--PRE-DAWN
HARTMAN and two Junior Drill
Instructors stride
into the Squad Bay. The lights go on. HARTMAN
bangs loudly on an empty metal garbage can which
he carries into the
room.
HARTMAN
Reveille! Reveille! Reveille! Drop your
cocks
and grab your socks! Today is Sunday! Divine
worship at
zero-eight-hundred! Get your
bunks made and get your uniforms on.
Police
call will commence in two minutes!
HARTMAN stops in front
of JOKER's bunk.
HARTMAN
Private Cowboy! Private Joker!
COWBOY
Sir, yes, sir!
JOKER
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
As soon as you finish your bunks, I want you
two turds
to clean the head.
JOKER & COWBOY
(in unison)
Sir, aye-aye, sir!
HARTMAN
I want that head so sanitary
and squared
away that the Virgin Mary herself would be
proud to
go in there and take a dump!
JOKER & COWBOY
(in
unison)
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Joker, do
you believe in the Virgin
Mary?
JOKER
Sir, no,
sir!
HARTMAN throws down the garbage can with a loud
bang.
HARTMAN
Private Joker, I don't believe I heard you
correctly!
JOKER
Sir, the private said "No, sir," sir!
HARTMAN
Why, you little maggot! You make me want to
vomit!
HARTMAN slaps
JOKER, hard, across the cheek.
HARTMAN
You goddam
communist heathen, you had best
sound off that you love the Virgin
Mary . . . or
I'm gonna stomp your guts out! Now you do
love
the Virgin Mary, don't you?!
JOKER
Sir, negative,
sir!!
HARTMAN
Private Joker, are you trying to offend
me?!
JOKER
Sir, negative, sir!!! Sir, the private
believes
that any answer he gives will be wrong! And
the Senior
Drill Instructor will beat him
harder if he reverses himself, sir!
HARTMAN
Who's your squad leader, scumbag?
JOKER
Sir, the private's squad leader is Private
Snowball, sir!!!
HARTMAN
Private Snowball!
SNOWBALL double-times up to HARTMAN.
SNOWBALL
Sir, Private Snowball reporting as ordered,
sir!
HARTMAN
Private Snowball, you're fired! Private Joker is
promoted to squad leader!
SNOWBALL
Sir, aye-aye, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Pyle!
PYLE
Private Pyle reporting
as ordered, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Pyle, from now on
Private Joker is
your new squad leader, and you will bunk
with
him! He'll teach you everything. He'll
teach you how to pee.
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Joker is silly
and he's ignorant, but
he's got guts, and guts is enough. Now, you
ladies carry on.
JOKER, COWBOY & PYLE
(in
unison)
Sir, aye-aye, sir!
20 EXT. TRAINING FIELD--DAY
JOKER
patiently explains the disassembly of an
M-14 rifle to PYLE.
JOKER
The bolt. The bolt goes in the receiver.
Operating rod
handle. Operating rod guide.
21 INT. BARRACKS--NIGHT
JOKER and PYLE
sitting on their footlockers. JOKER
instructs PYLE in the correct
method of lacing his
combat boots.
JOKER
And the left
one ... over the right. Right one
over the left. Left one over the
right. Right
one over the left.
22 EXT. CONFIDENCE CLIMB--DAY
On. top of the confidence climb, JOKER gently talks
PYLE over the top.
JOKER
Just throw your other leg over ... that'a boy.
That's it.
Now just pull the next one over .. .
and you're home free. Ready?
Just throw it
over. That'a boy. Just set it down. All right?
PYLE
breathes heavily. He is scared but he manages
to get over.
JOKER
There you go. Congratulations, Leonard. You
did it.
23
INT. BARRACKS--NIGHT
JOKER instructs PYLE in the correct way of making
his bed.
JOKER
You fold the blanket and the sheet back
together. Make a four-inch fold. Okay?
Got it? You do it.
PYLE
looks down. uncertainly at the bed.
24 EXT. PARADE DECK--DAY
JOKER
works with PYLE on the Manual of Arms.
25 EXT. OBSTACLE COURSE--DAY
COWBOY, JOKER and PYLE run up a ramp, grab the
ropes and swing across a
ditch. PYLE makes it
without trouble.
26 EXT. PARADE DECK--DAY
HARTMAN is drilling the squad, calling the cadence
and watching PYLE
who makes no mistakes.
DISSOLVE TO:
27 EXT. RIFLE RANGE--DAY
Targets are raised and lowered, red markers
indicating hits. HARTMAN
addresses the recruits.
HARTMAN
The deadliest weapon in
the world is a ma-
rine and his rifle. It is your killer instinct
which must be harnessed if you expect to sur-
vive in combat. Your
rifle is only a tool. It is
a hard heart that kills. If your killer
instincts
are not clean and strong you will hesitate at
the
moment of truth. You will not kill. You
will become dead marines.
And then you will
be in a world of shit. Because marines are not
allowed to die without permission! Do you
maggots understand?
RECRUITS
Sir, yes, sir!
28 EXT. PARRIS ISLAND STREET--DAY
The
recruits are double-timing to HARTMAN's
cadences.
HARTMAN
(chanting in cadence)
I love working for Uncle Sam!
RECRUITS
(chanting in cadence)
I love working for Uncle
Sam!
HARTMAN
Lets me know just who I am!
RECRUITS
Lets me know just who I am!
HARTMAN
One,
two, three, four! United States Marine
Corps!
RECRUITS
One, two, three, four! United States Marine
Corps!
HARTMAN
One, two, three, four! I love the Marine Corps!
RECRUITS
One, two, three, four! I love the Marine Corps.
HARTMAN
My Corps!
RECRUITS
My Corps!
HARTMAN
Your Corps!
RECRUITS
Your Corps!
HARTMAN
Our Corps!
RECRUITS
Our Corps!
HARTMAN
Marine Corps!
RECRUITS
Marine Corps!
HARTMAN
I don't know, but I've been told.
RECRUITS
I don't know, but I've been told.
HARTMAN
Eskimo pussy
is mighty cold!
RECRUITS
Eskimo pussy is mighty cold!
HARTMAN
Mmm, good!
RECRUITS
Mmm, good!
HARTMAN
Feels good!
RECRUITS
Feels good!
HARTMAN
Is good!
RECRUITS
Is good!
HARTMAN
Real good!
RECRUITS
Real good!
HARTMAN
Tastes good!
RECRUITS
Tastes good!
HARTMAN
Mighty good!
RECRUITS
Mighty good!
HARTMAN
Good for you!
RECRUITS
Good for you!
HARTMAN
Good for me!
RECRUITS
Good for me!
29
INT. BARRACKS--NIGHT
The recruits in their skivvies stand at attention
in
two facing rows on top of their footlockers, arms
outstretched,
hands held rigidly in front of them,
palms down, for inspection.
HARTMAN moves along the row of men. He smacks
a recruit's hand.
HARTMAN
Trim 'em.
HARTMAN points at the feet of another recruit.
HARTMAN
Toejam!
To another recruit.
HARTMAN
Pop that blister!
HARTMAN stops in front of PYLE and notices his foot-
locker is unlocked. He picks up the lock and holds it
up to PYLE.
HARTMAN
Jesus H. Christ! Private Pyle, why is your
footlocker
unlocked?
PYLE
Sir, I don't know, sir!
HARTMAN
Private Pyle, if there is one thing in this
world that
I hate, it is an unlocked footlocker!
You know that, don't you?
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
If it wasn't for
dickheads like you, there
wouldn't be any thievery in this world,
would
there?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Get down!
PYLE steps down, from the footlocker. HARTMAN
flips
open the lid with a bang and begins rummaging
through the box.
HARTMAN
Well, now .. . let's just see if there's anything
missing!
HARTMAN freezes. He reaches down and slowly picks
up a
jelly doughnut, holding it in disgust at arm's
length with his
fingertips.
HARTMAN
Holy Jesus! What is that? What is
that,
Private Pyle?!
PYLE
Sir, a jelly doughnut,
sir!
HARTMAN
A jelly doughnut?!
PYLE
Sir, yes, sir!
HARTMAN
How did it get here?
PYLE
Sir, I took it from the mess hall, sir!
HARTMAN
Is chow allowed in the barracks, Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
Are you allowed to eat jelly
doughnuts,
Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir, no, sir!
HARTMAN
And why not, Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir,
because I'm too heavy, sir!
HARTMAN
Because you are a
disgusting fatbody, Private
Pyle!
PYLE
Sir, yes,
sir!
HARTMAN
Then why did you hide a jelly doughnut in
your footlocker, Private Pyle?
PYLE
Sir, because I was
hungry, sir!
HARTMAN
Because you were hungry?
Holding out the jelly doughnut, HARTMAN walks
down the row of recruits
still standing with their
arms outstretched.
HARTMAN
Private Pyle has dishonored himself and
dishonored the platoon! I
have tried to help
him, but I have failed! I have failed because
you have not helped me! You people have not
given Private Pyle the
proper motivation!
So, from now on, whenever Private Pyle
fucks
up, I will not punish him, I will punish
all of you! And the way I
see it, ladies, you
owe me for one jelly doughnut! Now, get on
your faces!
HARTMAN
(to PYLE)
Open your
mouth!
He shoves the jelly doughnut into PYLE's mouth.
HARTMAN
They're paying for it, you eat it!
HARTMAN turns to the
recruits.
HARTMAN
Ready . . . exercise!
The platoon
does push-ups.
RECRUITS
(chanting in cadence)
One, two, three, four!
I love the Marine Corps!
One, two,
three, four!
I love the Marine Corps!
One, two, three, four!
I love the Marine Corps!
One, two, three, four . . .
While the
platoon does push-ups, PYLE swallows
hard to get down. bites of the
doughnut.
DISSOLVE TO:
30 INT. BARRACKS--DAWN
JOKER checks PYLE's
Uniform.
JOKER
(quietly)
You really look
like shit today, Leonard.
PYLE
Joker? Everybody hates
me now. Even you.
JOKER
Nobody hates you, Leonard. You
just keep
making mistakes, getting everybody in
trouble.
PYLE
I can't do anything right. I need help.
JOKER
I'm trying to help you, Leonard. I'm really
trying.
PYLE grins,
trustingly.
JOKER
Tuck your shirt in.
DISSOLVE TO:
31 EXT. TRAINING FIELD--DAY
The platoon does squat thrusts as PYLE
sits, his
cap on backwards, sucking his thumb. HARTMAN
watches.
RECRUITS
(counting in unison)
One, turo, three . . .
nineteen!
One, two, three . . . twenty!
One, two, three . . .
twenty-one!
One, two, three . . . twenty-two!
One, two, three .
. . twenty-three!
One, two, three . . . twenty-four!
One, two,
three . . . twenty-five!
One, two, three . . . twnty-six!
One,
two, three . . . twenty-seven!
One, two, three . . . twenty-eight!
One, two, three . . . twenty-nine!
One, two, three . . . thirty!
FADE TO BLACK
32 INT. BARRACKS--NIGHT
We see a towel on a bed. A bar
of soap is tossed
on the towel. The towel is folded over the soap
forming a weapon.
A hand picks up the towel-weapon and bangs it
on
