Hartman: Left shoulder, hut! [Lawrence briefly hikes his rifle to his right shoulder, but corrects himself though Hartman notices and realizes what has happened] Private Pyle, what are you trying to do to my beloved Corps?!
Lawrence: 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?!
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: Then you did that on purpose! You wanna be different!
Lawrence: Sir, no, sir!
Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's left cheek] What side was that, Private Pyle?
Lawrence: Sir, left side, sir!
Hartman: Are you sure, Private Pyle?!
Lawrence: Sir, yes, sir!
Hartman: [slaps Private Lawrence's right cheek; knocking his cover in the process] What side was that, Private Pyle?!
Lawrence: [about to fall apart] Sir, right side, sir!
Hartman: Don't fuck with me again, Pyle! Pick up your fuckin' cover.
Lawrence: Sir, yes, sir!
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