The Navy diver is not a fighting man but a salvage expert. If it's lost, he finds it. If it's sunk, he brings it up. If it's in the way, he moves it. If he's lucky, he'll die 200 feet beneath the waves. That's the closest he'll get to being a hero. Hell, I don't know why anybody'd want to be a Navy diver.
My name is Master Chief Billy Sunday. There was a preacher by the same name who rid Chicago of the whoring spics, drunken wops and motherfucking niggers, who were making that place unfit for decent white folks to live. The only difference between me and that preacher is that he worked for God, and I am God!
— All I wanted was to be master diver.
— All I wanted was to stay one.
Goddamn it, Cookie, move your ass! I want my 12.
AWOL (Absent Without Official Leave) — used to say that a member of the armed forces is away without permission.
— Captain Hanks, sir, I concur with your assessment. These slippery floors alone prohibit such a demonstration, sir.
— Chief Sunday, haven't you had enough trouble in your career? Your advice is unwelcome.
— Who is this man?
— Chief Leslie W. Sunday, sir.
— You swam out of the Saint Lo at Leyte Gulf. You held your breath for four minutes.
— Five, sir.
— He can stay.