Band of Brothers

Band of Brothers



Year:
2001
10,415 Views

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[the company is in formation at Camp Toccoa] You people are at the position of attention! [Sobel walks up to Perconte, who presents his rifle for inspection] Private Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers over your boots like a paratrooper?

Frank Perconte:
No, sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
Then explain the creases at the bottom.

Frank Perconte:
[pause] No excuse, sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
Volunteering for the parachute infantry is one thing, Perconte, but you've got a *long* way to prove that you belong here. Your weekend pass is revoked. [Sobel moves down the line to Luz] Name.

George Luz:
Luz, George. [he presents his rifle for inspection; Sobel examines it and tosses it back at him]

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
Dirt in the rear sight aperture. Pass revoked. [Sobel moves down the line to Lipton] When did you sew on these chevrons, Sergeant Lipton?

Carwood Lipton:
Yesterday, sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[holding up a single thread] Long enough to notice this. Revoked.

Carwood Lipton:
Sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[Sobel moves on to Malarkey] Name.

Donald Malarkey:
Malarkey, Donald G. [he presents his rifle for inspection]

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
Malarkey. Malarkey's slang for "bullshit," isn't it?

Donald Malarkey:
Yes, sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[Sobel examines Malarkey's rifle, then tosses it back at him] Rust on the buttplate hinge spring, Private Bullshit. Revoked. [Sobel moves on to Liebgott] Name.

Joseph Liebgott:
Liebgott, Joseph D., sir. [he presents his rifle for inspection]

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[Sobel pulls Liebgott's bayonet out of its sheath and examines it] Rusty bayonet, Liebgott. You wanna kill Germans?

Joseph Liebgott:
Yes, sir.

Capt. Herbert Sobel:
[Sobel hits Liebgott's helmet with the bayonet] Not with this. [he walks out in front of the company and holds the bayonet up for every man to see] I wouldn't take this rusty piece of sh*t to war, and I will not take *you* to war in your condition! [he thrusts the bayonet into the ground] Now, thanks to these men and their infractions, every man in the company who had a weekend pass... has lost it. [pause] Change into your PT gear, we're running Currahee.

Ronald Spiers:
What is it?

Carwood Lipton:
Nothing.

Ronald Spiers:
Well, I'd better get back to Battalion before they disappear. You want to ask me, don't you?

Carwood Lipton:
Ask you what, sir?

Ronald Spiers:
You want to know if they're true or not... the stories about me. Did you ever notice with stories like that, everyone says they heard it from someone who was there. But then when you ask *that* person, they say *they* heard it from someone who was there. It's nothing new, really. I bet if you went back two thousand years, you'd hear a couple of centurions standing around, yakking about how Tertius lopped off the heads of some Carthaginian prisoners.

Carwood Lipton:
Well, maybe they kept talking about it because they never heard Tertius deny it.

Ronald Spiers:
Well, maybe that's because Tertius knew there was some value to the men thinking he was the meanest, toughest son of a b*tch in the whole Roman Legion.

[Turns to leave]

Carwood Lipton:
Sir? These men aren't really concerned about the stories. They're just glad to have you as our CO. They're happy to have a good leader again.

Ronald Spiers:
Well, from what I've heard, they've always had one. I've been told there's always been one man they could count on. Led them into the Bois Jacques, held them together when they had the crap shelled out of them in the woods. Every day, he kept their spirits up, kept the men focused, gave 'em direction... all the things a good combat leader does. You don't have any idea who I'm talking about, do you?

Carwood Lipton:
No, sir.

Ronald Spiers:
Hell, it was you, First Sergeant. Ever since Winters made Battalion, you've been the leader of Easy Company. Oh, and you're not going to be First Sergeant much longer, First Sergeant.

Carwood Lipton:
Sir?

Ronald Spiers:
Winters put you in for a battlefield commission, and Sink approved on your behalf. You should get the official notice in a few days. Congratulations, Lieutenant.

Donald Malarkey:
[the men are going over Heffron and Spina's run-in with the German in the foxhole] He shoulda shot Hinkel in the ass.

Warren Muck:
Then he woulda shot *him* in the ass. [the men start laughing]

Pvt. Edward 'Babe' Heffron:
[Domingus comes around with stale pancakes and shovels them into everyone's mess tin] Hey, God bless ya.

Donald Malarkey:
Joe, these smell like my armpit!

Warren Muck:
[holding up one of the pancakes] At least your armpit's warm.

Joe Domingus:
You want syrup with that?

Donald Malarkey:
Joe, be honest, what's in these things anyway, huh?

Joe Domingus:
Nothing you won't eat, Malarkey. [he walks away]

Pvt. Ralph Spina:
I won't eat Malarkey. [they all start laughing again]

Pvt. John T. Julian:
Hey, hey, maybe Hinkel would like your share, huh?

Pvt. Edward 'Babe' Heffron:
I shoulda shot him when I had the chance.

Warren Muck:
What, running backwards, Babe?

2nd Lt. Thomas Peacock:
[Lt. Peacock walks up] Anybody seen Lieutenant Dike?

Donald Malarkey:
Uh, try battalion CP, sir. [Peacock walks away, and the men start giggling once he is out of earshot]

Warren Muck:
Try Paris.

Donald Malarkey:
Try Hinkel. [they all crack up again]

Pvt. Ralph Spina:
[Spina puts on a bad German accent and makes to hug Heffron] Hinkel, sveetie, I'm home!

Pvt. Edward 'Babe' Heffron:
[Heffron turns to Doc Roe, who is sitting nearby] Hey Eugene, Lieutenant Dike's got a full aid kit, try him.

Donald Malarkey:
Yeah, I'm sure he's not usin' his. [the men laugh again]

Pvt. John T. Julian:
Maybe Hinkel's got a syrette for ya.

Warren Muck:
Eat your strudel.

Donald Malarkey:
[in his own bad German accent] Hey, Hinkel-Vinkel, eat ze armpit, huh?

German MP:
France. France was the best.

Pfc. John Janovec:
Really?

German MP:
Yeah. Five years. I think I was in every country, but France was the best. [Janovec lights the MP's cigarette for him] Italy would be second for me. Russia is not desirable. Ukraine... it was okay. [he waves a car through the checkpoint]

Pfc. John Janovec:
So, uh... when do you get out?

German MP:
My unit is discharged. We leave when my captain gets transferred. It is the end of my second war.

Pfc. John Janovec:
Jesus! [a truck of discharged German soldiers pulls up to the checkpoint]

German MP:
I'm going home now. Mannheim.

Pfc. John Janovec:
I'll take this one. [he walks up to the truck] [in badly-accented German] Passkarte, Bitte. [the driver hands over the papers; Janovec examines them] Okay. [he waves them through, then salutes the Germans in the back of the truck as Webster pulls up in a Jeep] Hey, Webster, my relief!

Pvt. David Kenyon Webster:
Don't salute the Germans.

Pfc. John Janovec:
Aw, come on, I sorta get a kick out of it. Anyway, I got me a new enemy: Japs. Seventy-five points. How about you, I mean, you're a Toccoa guy, right? How many you got?

Pvt. David Kenyon Webster:
Wouldn't you like to know. [a German on crutches hobbles up to Webster and hands him his papers; Webster examines them] Discharged, huh? [Janovec tries to look at the papers] Go ahead, take off, it's my turn.

Pfc. John Janovec:
Okay, see you back at the farm. [Janovec walks over to the waiting Jeep]

Pvt. David Kenyon Webster:
Eighty-one.

Pfc. John Janovec:
Huh?

Pvt. David Kenyon Webster:
I have eighty-one points. [Janovec laughs]

Pfc. John Janovec:
Well, that's just not good enough.


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