Platoon
EXT. UNDERGROUND HUTCH – BASE CAMP – NIGHT
The ‘heads’ are assembled – what’s left of them. Rhah, King, Francis, Doc, Adam, a quiet black kid, and Chris, who is impassioned tonight.
CHRIS He killed him. I know he did. I saw his eyes when he came back in …
RADIO VOICE (puffing on his bowl) How do you know the dinks didn’t get him. You got no proof man.
CHRIS Proof’s in the eyes. When you know you know. You were there Rhah – I know what you were thinking. I say we frag the fucker. Tonight.
He looks to King who puffs on a joint, his eyes red.
KING I go with dat, an eye for an eye man.
DOC Right on, nothing wrong with Barnes another shot in the head wouldn’t cure.
RHAH (to Chris) Shit boy you been out in the sun too long. You try that, he’ll stick it right back up your ass with a candle on it.
CHRIS Then what do you suggest big shot?
RHAH (to Chris) I suggest you watch your own asses cause Barnes gonna be down on ALL OF ‘EM.
FRANCIS How you figger that?
RHAH Shit man – Human nature.
Flashes the old knuckle – ‘HATE’.
KING Then you jes gonna forget ’bout Elias and all the good times we done had? Right in here.
RHAH He dugged his own grave.
DOC (correcting) He dug it.
RHAH He DUGGED it too.
CHRIS Fuck this shit!
RHAH You guys trying to cure the headache by cutting off the head. ‘Lias didn’t ask you to fight his battles and if there’s a Heaven – and god, I hope so – I know he’s sitting up there drunk as a fuckin’ monkey and smokin’ shit cause HIS PAINS HE DONE LEFT DOWN HERE. Baaaaaaaaa! (a vehement movement of his head)
CHRIS You’re wrong man! Any way you cut it Rhah, Barnes is a murderer.
KING Right on.
RHAH I remember first time you came in here Taylor you telling me how much you admired that bastard.
CHRIS I was wrong.
RHAH (snorts) Wrong? You ain’t EVER been right – ’bout nothing. And dig this you assholes and dig it good! Barnes been shot 7 times and he ain’t dead, that tell you something? Barnes ain’t meant to die. Only thing can get Barnes … is Barnes!
Barnes stands there, silhouetted in the trap door, looking down at the men who are stunned to see him here.
He steps down into the hutch, his face now lit by candle light. A bottle of whiskey in his hand, drunk, ugly, sweating, but as always, with dignity, possessive of his silence. He feels their fear in the silence, enjoys it.
BARNES (soft) Talking ’bout killing?
He totters slightly as he circles the outer edge of the hutch. No one talks.
BARNES (CONT’D) Y’all experts? Y’all know about killing?
He takes the bowl from Adams, smokes it.
BARNES (CONT’D) You pussies gotta smoke this shit so’s you can hide from reality? … (smokes again) Me I don’t need that shit. I AM reality.
Confronting Chris, he moves on, taunting them all.
BARNES (CONT’D) There’s the way it oughta be and there’s the way it is. ‘Lias he was full of shit, ‘Lias was a crusader – I got no fight with a man does what he’s told but when he don’t, the machine breaks down, and when the machine breaks down, WE break down … and I ain’t gonna allow that. From none of you. Not one …
Walks past Rhah, past King, throws the pot bowl into the dirt of the floor.
BARNES (CONT’D) Y’all loved Elias, want to kick ass, I’se here – all by my lonesome, nobody gonna know. Five you boys ‘gainst me? (pause, very soft) Kill me.
Almost an appeal – naked, intense. Rhah, Francis, Doc look away.
King, the biggest one there, is about to say something, but the moment passes.
Chris waits, his anger on the rise.
Barnes takes a swigger from the whiskey, then turns away contemptuously.
BARNES (CONT’D) I SHIT on all o’ you.
CHRIS KILL YOU MOTHERFUCKER!!!
Chris slams into Barnes, rushing him off his feet. Pounding his face, solid blows.
KING AND OTHERS Get that mother, babe, go … Kick his ass, kill that cocksucker!!!
But Barnes is too quick and very strong and takes the blows, getting outside Chris’ arm, twisting and flipping him in a wrestler’s grip – throwing him hard onto his back on the dirt floor.
The expression of the Men watching slumps, their hopes dashed.
Barnes springs around on Chris, straddles him, one hand pushing his face back, hits him hard. Once. Twice.
Chris grimaces, groans, helpless now. A flick of sound.
A knife whipped out of Barnes’ boot and pressing against Chris’ throat. Chris bleeding from the nose and mouth.
Rhah suddenly spinning into action, fast now, realizing what Barnes intends to do.
RHAH EASY BARNES, EASY MAN!!!
Barnes is on the verge – about to kill again.
Chris waiting.
Rhah coaxing him, moving closer.
RHAH (CONT’D) You’ll do dinky dau in Long Binh Barnes. Ten years – kill an enlisted. Ten years, Barnes, just climb the walls. DON’T DO IT …
Barnes’ eyes tremble in the candle light, his scars ugly, a spasm clenching and locking his facial muscles. Then suddenly he is calm again, very calm. We sense a man of enormous self-control.
Suddenly he flicks his knife across Chris, leaving a mark below his left eye.
Chris gasps. Looking up at Barnes rising off him. The boots alongside his face.
The Men looking on, the tension lowering.
BARNES (contemptuous) Death? What do you guys know about it?
He walks out. Quietly.
EXT. AIR SHOTS – JUNGLE, CHURCH – DAY
Chris sits at the very edge of a Huey Chopper, bandana around his forehead, long hair blowing in the wind, Barnes’ mark below his eyes, slicked out now like a jungle veteran, looking down at the VILLAGE where the massacre occurred.
The Village is still a smoking ruin, a few peasants and water buffalo straggling like ants to reconstruct.
Bunny, next to Chris, pops his gum, indifferent. Barnes, next to him, shifts, reads a map.
Rodriguez is praying, his mouth moving without audible words, getting ready for the drop.
King is making last minute adjustments in his pack.
Bunny now nudges Chris, points. The Church in the Jungle where Elias was killed is visible. An outline of the Cemetery. Uncomfortable memories play over Chris’ face.
CHRIS (V.O.) They sent us back into the valley the next day – about 2,000 metres from Cambodia – into a battalion perimeter. Alpha Company had been hit hard the day before by a sizeable force and Charlie Company had been probed that night. There were other battalions in the valley, we weren’t the only ones but we knew we were going to be the bait to lure them out. And somewhere out there was the entire 141st NVA Regiment.
The BATTALION PERIMETER now breaks in the clear ahead. Smoke grenades of various colors are being popped on the cleared LZ. It’s not big, its radius 200 yards, heavily sandbagged, deeply dug, rolls of barbed wire protecting it, radio antennas sprouting from the CP – and surrounded on all four sides by jungle.
The First Chopper rocking down, whipping up dust clouds. Chris jumps out, moving out fast as the Second Chopper starts in.
EXT. BATTALION CP – PERIMETER #3 – DUSK
At the Battalion CP, the Major confers with Captain Harris and two other Captains. Two NVA PRISONERS are sitting on their knees, interrogated by Vietnamese Kit Carson scouts and a U.S. Sergeant, their hands tied.
The Scout slaps the shit out of the NVA.
EXT. PLATOON CP – PERIMETER #3 – DUSK
All this is watched from a distance by Ace and Doc and Lt.Wolfe at the Platoon CP. Ace and Doc are digging the foxhole, the ace of spades in Ace’s helmet band, sharing the information with Tony and Francis.
ACE … they caught ’em last night pulling some shit on Charlie Company. They found maps on ’em, man – got a friend at Battalion says they had every fuckin’ foxhole here fixed on it. Distances, treelines, our claymores, trip wires, everything? I shit you not.
DOC Shit, so what the fuck are we doing here? Why don’t we move … (no answer) Bad vibes, man, I got bad vibes here. Where are the new guys they provided us anyway.
TONY I heard we’s in Cambodia right fuckin’ NOW.
FRANCIS You kidding man …
Rhah comes up, a walking stick in hand, huge pirate kerchief on his head, semi-naked.
RHAH You wanted to see me sir?
WOLFE Jackson, looks like you got Elias’ squad now.
RHAH Squad? I didn’t know we was still referring to this platoon in terms of squads sir. (with a snicker for Ace and Doc)
WOLFE (indicating a rough drawing in the dirt) These two holes are yours …
RHAH Begging your pardon Lieutenant but my holes are far enuff apart you could run a regiment through there and nobody’d see them – I got five live bodies left …
WOLFE I don’t want to hear your problems, Jackson. You’ll get new men any day. Time being you make do like everybody else.
RHAH Hey Lieutenant I didn’t ask for this job, I …
WOLFE (leaves) I don’t want to hear about it Jackson.
RHAH (amazed, looking off at him) You don’t want to hear about it?
WOLFE (turns) That’s right. I don’t want to hear about it ’cause to tell you the truth, I don’t give a shit okay … I just don’t give a shit anymore.
RHAH (shrugs, to himself) Right …
WOLFE (passing Ace digging the CP hole) This is one time we could sure use Elias.
ACE (to Doc) ‘Some people say I’m wishy washy. Maybe I am. Maybe I ain’t.’
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – CHRIS’ FOXHOLE – DUSK
On the edge of the perimeter, King puts out his claymore, unraveling it back towards his FOXHOLE, intersecting MEN form the Third Platoon, who file out on a night ambush, skirting the trip wires, demoralized, silent. Eye exchanges, but no words.
Chris sits on the foxhole watching the ambush go out, smoking a joint by himself, depressed. King comes in with the claymore wires, attaching them to their detonators. Their foxhole – as are all of the Platoon’s – is positioned just inside the treeline bordering the LZ, so that they are quite isolated from the center of the perimeter where they first landed.
KING Glad I ain’t going with ’em. Somewhere out dere man is de Beast and he hungry tonight … Man, what a bummer. Ten days and a wakeup and I’m still dealing wid this shit – fuckin’ etcetera and ad infinitum man …
The LAST SOLDIER in the file recedes into the foliage.
KING (CONT’D) (noticiing Chris’ silence) What’s the matter wid you? … How come you ain’t writing no more? You was always writing something home. Looks like youse half a bubble off, Taylor.
He doesn’t answer, makes a futile gesture.
KING (CONT’D) What about your folks? That grandma you was telling me about? …
Chris shakes his head.
KING (CONT’D) Girl?
Chris’ eyes answer negatively.
KING (CONT’D) Must be somebody?
CHRIS … there’s nobody.
KING (shifts, uncomfortable) You been smoking too much shit babe. Gotta control that. Takes a man down … I remember when you first come out to the bush, you was straight as a …
CHRIS Who gives a shit!
He shifts, annoyed, prepares his grenades along the sand bags. King shrugs, preparing his meal, sings himself a snatch of song, a good natured man.
KING (soft) ‘People say I’m the life of the party cause I tell a joke or two although I may be laughing loud and hardy deep inside I’m blue …’
CHRIS Y’ever get caught in a mistake King and you just can’t get out of it?
KING Way out of anything, man. Just keep your pecker up, your powder dry, the worm WILL turn. How many days you short?
CHRIS Not just me … it’s the way the whole thing works. People like Elias get wasted and people like Barnes just go on making up rules any way they want and what do we do, we just sit around in the middle and suck on it! We just don’t add up to dry shit.
KING Does a chicken have lips? Whoever said we did, babe. Make it outta here, it’s all gravy, every day of the rest of your life man – gravy. Oh shit, superlifer!
O’Neill comes up, jerks his thumb at King.
O’NEILL Get your gear together, King, your orders just come through.
KING (speechless) You jokin’ me man? … shit, you ain’t kidding! Cocksucker. Oh wowww … the lifers made a mistake, they cuttin’ me some slack, they cutting me some slack Taylor! (dances)
O’NEILL Collect your shit and move out King. You got 10 minutes make the last chopper. Cee ess em oh or your ass is mine. (to Taylor) Francis is coming over. (hurries off)
King packing up, double time. Chris comes over, helps him, trying to share his happiness but not succeeding.
CHRIS Hey that’s great King, that’s great … you take it on home for me, you tell ’em King … got your address right? You know where you can reach men, man. Anytime!
KING I gotta didi man. Don’t wanna miss that chopper. I’ll send you a postcard. After I get me some. I’ll send you some tapes too man. This new guy Jimi Hendrix man, whew … you okay Taylor? Just ‘member take it easy now, don’t think too much, don’t be a fool, no such thing as a coward cause it don’t mean nuthin. Jes keep on keepin’ on. Okay my man …
Chris, fighting his depression, slaps hands with King. A brief moment, they look at each other. A friendship that was forever and is now over. They both sort of know they’ll never see each other again.
CHRIS I’ll walk you out …
Francis coming up, hauling his pack.
EXT.PERIMETER #3 – JUNIOR’S FOXHOLE – DUSK
On another foxhole, Rodriguez positions his M-60, brings up his ammo belts (no loaders left). Tony eating, nervous, watches him, shakes his head.
TONY Rumor goin’ round is they got tanks. Soviet shit, T- 34’s … (pause) Hey Rodriguez, don’t you ever say nothing?
RODRIGUEZ (a thick Mexican accent) What do you want me to say, it’s all the same ol’ shit.
Tony shrugs, back to his food.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – JUNIOR’S FOXHOLE – DUSK
On another foxhole, Barnes in full pack checks the soles of Junior’s bare feet. Bunny and O’Neill looking on. Junior is moaning as if he’s dying, overdoing it by a mile.
BARNES So what’s the problem?
O’NEILL Says he can’t walk.
BARNES Shit. Get your boots on Martin, next time I catch you putting mosquito repellant on your fuckin’ feet I’m gonna courtmartial your nigger ass.
JUNIOR (cracks) DEN COURTMARTIAL ME MOTHERFUCKAH, bust my ass, send me to fucking Long Binh, do your worst but I ain’t walking no more. De white man done got his last klik outta me. Get some chuck dude to hump this shit.
BARNES (suddenly soft) Get me that centipede, O’Neill.
O’Neill is puzzled. What centipede?
O’NEILL Sarge?
BARNES Yeah that long hairy orange and black bastard I found in the ammo crate. I’m gonna put it in this asshole’s crotch, see if he can walk.
Junior’s eyes bulge with suspiscion and sudden terror, his demeanor totally alert now.
O’NEILL (understanding) Oh yeah, right away Sarge.
JUNIOR No! Wait! I’ll walk, fuck you I’ll walk, I don’t need this shit! I don’t need this shit!
BUNNY Fucking pussy, fuck it Sarge, I gotta have him on my hole?
Barnes going. O’Neill catching up with him.
O’NEILL Uh … Bob. Like to speak to you. Take a minute.
BARNES (stops) Yeah, what is it?
O’NEILL (shuffles, reluctant) Bob, I got Elias’ R&R … It’s coming up in 3 days. Going to Hawaii. See Patsy. (pause, no reaction from Barnes) I never asked you for a break, I was hoping you … you’d send me in on the chopper with King … what do you say Chief? (a friendly punch)
BARNES I can’t do that for you, Red … We need every swinging dick in the field. Sorry bout that … (starts to go)
O’NEILL (pleads) Hey Bob, come on! Talk to me hunh, it’s your friend Red, I’m only asking you for three days chief …
BARNES I’m talking to you Red and I’m telling you no. Get back to your position.
O’NEILL (grabs him, desperate) Bob, I gotta bad feeling about this, I … I’m telling you I got a bad feeling, man, I don’t think I’m gonna make it .. y’know what I mean?
BARNES (quietly) … everybody gotta die sometime Red … Get back to your foxhole.
A look in his eyes. Very remote, very cold, silencing O’Neill. Barnes walks off.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – BATTALION LZ – DUSK
At the LZ, King runs out, gets on the last SUPPLY CHOPPER with some other men. It lifts off, swirling dust, the last rays of daylight.
Chris watches from a Battalion CP area, waves back – the chopper sound receding in the horizon, the comparative silence of the jungle now creeping up on the perimeter. He turns and starts back to his foxhole.
A man is watching him. He’s sitting on a sandbag, face in shadow. It startles Chris, something about him. Something different. A deep West Virginia drawl.
SMOKING MAN Got a light?
CHRIS Uh sure …
Goes over reluctantly, flicks his lighter, cupping it from the wind. The flame catches a sudden, uneasy expression in Chris’ face as he sees the Smoking Man.
We come around and see what Chris sees in the light of the flame. A face that smiles at him like a death’s head, a large ugly blister on his mouth, whiskered, pale – but smiling. A sick man wouldn’t smile like this, but he is smiling too intimately, as if he knows Chris from way back. But he doesn’t. Or does he? Perhaps it was the man Chris first saw at the airstrip when he came in-country. The same expression of evil, of a man who has seen too much and died, but still lives.
Chris feels an unnatural fear passing through him.
The Man stands, sucking on his cigarette, stretches. He is thin and very tall, towering over Chris.
SMOKING MAN … later.
He goes. Chris watches him, wondering. The man never looks back, a leisurely, confident stroll. In that moment, there is an EXPLOSION from way out in the jungle, about a quarter of a mile. Then another, then small arms fire. Chris looks, knows.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – RHAH’S FOXHOLE – DUSK
On his foxhole, Junior listening to the distant firing. Bunny is introspective – talking to Junior as if he were his best friend, although they have nothing in common.
BUNNY … y’know some of the things we done, I don’t feel like we done something wrong but sometimes y’know I get this bad feeling. Not all that shit the Chaplain’s jamming up our ass ’bout the Good Lord … just a fucking bad feeling, y’know what I mean? Don’t know why. I told the Chaplain the truth is I really like it here. You do what you want, nobody fucks with you. Only worry you got’s dying and if dat happens you won’t know about it anyway. So what the fuck … (chuckles)
Junior looks at him like he’s really crazy. Back to the distant firing.
JUNIOR (pissed now) Fuck! I gotta be on this hole with YOU man. I just know I shouldna come!
Bunny finds it funny, laughs.
BUNNY Don’t you worry bout a thing Junior, you with Audie Murphy here, my man …
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – COMPANY CP – DUSK
At the Company CP, Captain Harris is talking urgently into the radio.
HARRIS Bravo Three Alpha! Send me a grid. Send me a grid, over!
A young inexperienced VOICE screams back into the radio amid intense background FIRING filtered by radio and sounding disembodied.
RADIO VOICE We’re pinned down sir, they’re in the fucking trees! The trees –
HARRIS OK, Three Alpha, calm down now, son. I’m gonna get you a fire mission ASAP. Smoke’ll be first …
RADIO VOICE (panic) Lieutenant’s dead sir, radioman look dead sir, I don’t know where the map is Captain! They’re all around us sir. They’re moving! Hundreds of em! I can hear em talking gook!!! Jesus Christ!
HARRIS (calming him) … Just spot the smoke son and tell me where to shift. We’ll get you out of there. Just hang tough and tell me where the rounds hit, over.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – PLATOON CP – DUSK
At the Platoon CP, Barnes stands, legs akimbo, watching the jungle, anticipating the coming fight as overhead we now hear the 155 SHELLS whistle from a 10-mile distance – passing above them – then pounding down into the jungle in the near distance. Barnes turns, glances at Wolfe, smiles.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – COMPANY CP – DUSK
At the Company CP, Captain Harris is back on the radio.
HARRIS Bravo Three Alpha six. How bout those rounds son? Can you adjust fire? (waits) Three Alpha, if you can’t talk, just key the handset twice over. (waits)
Silence, then a vague MURMURING – becoming clearer and clearer. It’s in Vietnamese. The radio is then bashed in, the sound like thunder in the Captain’s ear. He looks at his RTO, both of them shocked.
EXT. NVA JUNGLE – NIGHT/DUSK
In the Jungle itself, the ENEMY is moving. Flurries of movement and sound, blurred visuals. Hands taping a piece of cloth to a tree, moving on – revealing a luminous arrow pointing left … Figures moving past it.
Hands unraveling a thin wire waist-high, backwards.
Hands sliding along another wire. We now see a moving helmet with a luminous plaque on the back of it, leading a file up the wire. To a Jump-off point about 50 yards outside the U.S. perimeter. Figures crouch. Whispers. Movement. A pen flashlight on a drawing of the foxhole positions. The NVA moving out in several directions at once.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – CHRIS’ FOXHOLE – NIGHT
On their foxhole, Chris and Francis wait anxiously. Overhead the ARTILLERY keeps pounding into the ambush area. Now SMALL ARMS FIRE can be heard picking up at random spots along the perimeter. The battle, like a tide, is obviously moving closer to them.
FRANCIS Oh shit me I wish I was back in Memphis now, oooh baby this is gonna be a motherfucker!
Chris says nothing. Suddenly off to their right, about 80 yards, a BLUE FIZZLE of light erupts.
CHRIS Trip flares! … Rodriguez’s hole.
Rat-tat-tat-tat, rat-tat-tat. Machine gun, outgoing, followed by a sharp explosion. A ROCKET!
CHRIS (CONT’D) RPGs! Shit!
VOICE (crying) MEDIC!! DOC! DOC!
A FIGURE thrashes up through the foliage behind them.
RHAH (a fierce whisper) Taylor! Francis!
CHRIS Over here!
Rhah jumps into their hole with them, out of breath.
CHRIS (CONT’D) Rhah! What’s going on. Rodriguez’s hole just got …
RHAH (gets his breath) Okay, here it is – one, we got gooks in the fuckin’ perimeter.
FRANCIS Oh shit! Dat’s it, dat’s it …
RHAH They got through Alpha Company! Anything behind you don’t identify itself, blow it away. Two – air strike’s coming in. They gonna lay snake and nape right on the perimeter so stay tight in your holes and don’t leave ’em.
FLARES now shoot up over the perimeter. Reds, greens, yellows, squeaking as they float doen on their parachute hinges throughout the ensuing battle. The perimeter is illuminated at spotty intervals – sometimes arctic bright, sometimes inexplainably dark til new flares shoot up.
Chris, Francis, Rhah all look up at the light, and hug their holes even tighter, feeling naked in the light. Flares cut both ways.
RHAH (CONT’D) … they’re probing us, they gonna go up and down this line all night trying to get through. Stay cool … I’ll be back …
Runs out of the foxhole. Chris suddenly reacting to a noise out front, gripping Francis and pointing to the sound.
A BODY is thrashing towards them, about twenty-five yards, not yet visible but a little awkward and lungy in it’s movement, as if desperate.
Francis, tense, is about to pop his grenade when Chris grabs him.
CHRIS Hold it! (loud whisper) WHO IS IT!
But the body keeps coming, lurching now, falling.
FRANCIS Come on man!
CHRIS No!
A POP! – then a fizzle of BLUE LIGHT as the Figure hits their trip flare – revealing itself to be large, with no helmet, and gasping, terrified of the trip flare.
TERRIFIED SOLDIER DON’T SHOOT! DON’T SHOOT!
CHRIS It’s the ambush! (calling out) In here, man! Hurry.
The SOLDIER now runs in like a fullback going down for the tackle, sprawling into the hole, knocking Chris and Francis down beneath him.
He is sweating, terrified, a white boy with an unrecognizable, filthy face, no rifle, no helmet, his fatigues torn all over.
TERRIFIED SOLDIER Water! Water!
Chris gives him his canteen, his shoulder and neck hurting from the collision. The Soldier sucks down the canteen.
TERRIFIED SOLDIER (CONT’D) (between gulps) They’se all over the place, hundreds of em moving this way! They wiped us out man, we didn’t have a chance! Where’s the CP?
FRANCIS (points) Back there.
The Soldier struggling out of the foxhole.
TERRIFIED SOLDIER You guys get outta here! They’re right on my ass and they ain’t stoppin’ for shit!
He tears off, leaving Francis in a state of incipient panic. He looks at Chris.
FRANCIS Taylor, let’s di-di man!
Chris adjusting position, facing the front, anger in his voice.
CHRIS You go.
Francis hesitates, stays.
INT. PERIMETER #3 – BATTALION CP – NIGHT
At the Battalion CP, the Major is inside his BUNKER, busy between his radio nets.
MAJOR (to RTO 1) Get me Bravo!
RTO 2 Charlie Company reports hand to hand on the perimeter sir. Three holes are down. They need help!
MAJOR (looks at his watch, to his XO) Okay move two squads from Alpha down there. Where’s that goddamn air strike, you bet your ass if we were the First Cav they’d be here now.
RTO 1 (handing him the transmitter) Bravo Six sir.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – BATTALION CP – NIGHT
Just outside the Bunker, a MASTER SERGEANT spots something in the flarelight. TWO FIGURES with helmets running towards him at an angle.
MASTER SERGEANT Hey you boys! Which Company you …
A sudden burst of FIRE cuts the Sergeant down in his tracks and the Figures fly by.
Soldiers in the immediate area spot them.
SOLDIER #3 SAPPERS!
SOLDIER #4 THE BUNKER!
A burst of fire. One of the RUNNING FIGURES goes down. An Explosion engulfs him.
INT. PERIMETER #3 – BATTALION CP – NIGHT
But the SECOND SAPPER runs right into the bunker in a kamikaze charge, the light from inside momentarily revealing a bulky satchel strapped on his person and the face of the astounded Major.
RTO 3 SIR!!
EXT. PERIMETER #3 BATTALION CP – NIGHT
The Bunker EXPLODES with a deafening roar.
EXT. PERIMETER #3 – CHRIS’ FOXHOLE – NIGHT
In their foxhole, Chris and Francis look at the curling ball of flame, stunned.
CHRIS Oh no!
EXT. PERIMETER #3 COMPANY CP – NIGHT
In their foxhole, Chris points.
CHRIS There!
SHAPES moving in the trees. Chris blows his claymore handles. One explosion on top of the other out front. Then return fire. Flashes from a muzzle, rak-a-tak, rak-a-tak, rak-a-tak, the heavier sound of an AK-47.
Chris opening up with his 16. Then being blown down by a grenade explosion at the edge of the foxhole. Then nothing. A pause. Chris’ ears ringing, slightly concussed.
Suddenly from down the perimeter there is the sound of a faulty LOUDSPEAKER crackling out from the jungle. A pidgen English, the words mauled, then a snatch of patriotic North Vietnamese music, played from a scratchy old record.
Chris uneasy, looking at Francis who looks terrified. The SOUND now of a whistle. Two hoots, then a sharp third. Then yelling.
Chris grabbing Francis’ arm, pointing. There is a VOICE directly out to the front of them – muttering something in Vietnamese, no more than 20 yards away but unseen. It’s like hearing a casual conversation from another room, then the sounds of several bodies moving in separate directions – encompassing the foxhole.
CHRIS (CONT’D) (to Francis, a whisper) Out of the hole! Fast!
Chris crawls out, stops, looks back. Francis won’t leave, hugs the shelter.
CHRIS (CONT’D) (a fierce whisper) Goddamit Francis! Move your fucking ass. Now … THEY GONNA BLOW IT!
Reaches in and yanks him with all his strength half out of the hole. Francis, finally sparked, now moves out. Both of them bellying it into the brush behind the hole.
Not a moment too soon. An RPG ROCKET whistling in.
The FOXHOLE takes a direct hit, caving in, whirls of smoke spinning off it.
Chris and Francis look back covered with debris. They hear movement.
SHADOWS are swarming towards the foxhole, firing into it to finish them off.
Francis grabs Chris’ leg, indicating they get out of there. Chris hesitates – a moment, a decision made now in angry passion – rises up and charges the NVA.
SHADOWS scatter and tumble, caught by his surprise close-range fire.
Chris moving forward into them, blasting, agile, his instincts finely tuned, and totally insane in this moment of time, indifferent to his life. He YELLS insanities, pumping himself up with the adrenaline of courage.
CHRIS (CONT’D) DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!! YAAAAAAAAA!!!
Screams from the dark shadows, they fall.
Chris smashing a wounded SHADOW with the butt of his gun down into the foxhole. He jumps back into it, reoccupying it. Blasting the dead gook.
Opening fire out to the front, driving the Shadows back.
Francis watching this, amazed. After a moment of doubt, he too tears back out to join Chris in the foxhole, unbelieving, as he jumps in with him.
FRANCIS (joining in the frenzy) YAAAAAHHHH!!!! KILLLLL!!!
Then stunned again to see Chris suddenly rise up out of the foxhole and charging forward into the jungle. He is now over the edge.
CHRIS (charging off into the jungle) DIE YOU MOTHERFUCKERS!!!
