A Walk in the Sun

Friedman:
You ever think you'll live to make corporal?

Rivera:
Baby, I just want to live long enough to make civilian.

Sergeant Tyne:
It's a funny thing, how many people you meet in an army that cross your path for a few seconds and you never see 'em again.

Rivera:
Nobody dies.

Sergeant Tyne:
Nothing slower than crawling. Nothing in the world. How long would it take to crawl around the world? A hundred years? A thousand years?

Sergeant Tyne:
Wonder what it'll be like when we hit France, Mac.

McWilliams:
I don't know. I never seen France.

Sergeant Tyne:
I bet its just a long concrete wall with a gun every yard. Maybe they'll set the water on fire with oil, too. Boy, when that day comes I wanna be somewhere else.

Windy:
A man's hands never seem to get clean, even if he don't touch nothing. They just stay dirty. Sort of a special kind of dirt. G.I. dirt. I bet one of those criminologists could take a sample out of a guy's fingernail, put it under a microscope, and say, "That's G.I. dirt." The dirt's always the same color, no matter what country you're fighting in.

Windy:
Hey, Tinker? How do you spell "Mare Nostrum?"

Tinker:
What's that?

Windy:
The Mediterranean. It's what the Eye-ties call it. It means "our sea."

Tinker:
Why?

Windy:
I'm writing to my sister.

Tinker:
Whattya mean, you're writing to your sister? You're packed on a landing barge, bouncing on your Mare Nostrum, and waiting to hit the beach like the rest of us slobs.

Rivera:
It could've been something else. It could've been the engineers or the tanks. It could even have been the Navy. They looked at me and said, "Here's a guy that can walk." They finished me, all right.

Friedman:
Everybody walks. Even monkeys.

Friedman:
Where are we going, Rivera?

Rivera:
I am going someplace where I can set up this weapon. Then I am going to shoot this weapon. I am not gonna walk any more!

Windy:
Dear Frances, I am writing you this letter relaxing on the deck of a luxury liner. On shore the natives have evidently just spotted us and are getting up a reception - fireworks, music and that sort of stuff. Ha. The musicians in our own band have also struck up a little tune. Ha ha.

Windy:
Dear Frances, we just blew a bridge and took a farmhouse. It was so easy... so terribly easy.

"It was so easy, so terribly easy."