A pragmatic U. S. Marine observes the dehumanizing effects the Vietnam War has on his fellow recruits from their brutal boot camp training to the bloody street fighting in Hue.
— I am Gunnery Sergeant Hartman, your senior drill instructor. From now on, you will speak only when spoken to... and the first and last words out of your filthy sewers will be "sir." Do you maggots understand that?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Bullshit. I can't hear you. Sound off like you got a pair.
— Private Joker, why did you join my Corps?
— Sir, to kill, sir.
— So you're a killer?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Let me see your war face.
— Sir?
— You've got a war face? Aaaa! That's a war face. Now let me see your war face.
— Aaa!
— Bullshit. You didn't convince me. Let me see your real war face.
— Aaaa!
— You don't scare me. Work on it.
Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little communist-shit, twinkle-toed cocksucker down here... who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy-fucking-godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will P. T. You all until you fucking die. I'll P. T. You until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck?
— Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me?
— Who said that? Who the fuck said that? Who's the slimy little communist-shit, twinkle-toed cocksucker down here... who just signed his own death warrant? Nobody, huh? The fairy-fucking-godmother said it. Out-fucking-standing. I will P. T. You all until you fucking die. I'll P. T. You until your assholes are sucking buttermilk. Was it you, you scroungy little fuck?
— Sir, no, sir.
— You piece of shit. You look like a fucking worm. I'll bet it was you.
— Sir, no, sir.
— Sir, I said it, sir.
— Well, no shit. What have we got here? A fucking comedian. Private Joker. I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. You little scumbag. I've got your name. I've got your ass. You will not laugh. You will not cry. You will learn by the numbers. I will teach you. Now get up. Get on your feet. You best unfuck yourself or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck.
— What's your name, scumbag?
— Sir, Private Brown, sir.
— Bullshit. From now on you're Private Snowball. Do you like that name?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Well, there's one thing that you won't like, Snowball: They don't serve fried chicken and watermelon... on a daily basis in my mess hall.
— Sir, yes, sir.
It looks like the best part of you... ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a stain on the mattress. I think you've been cheated.
— What's your excuse?
— Sir, excuse for what, sir?
— I'm asking the fucking questions, private. Do you understand?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Well, thank you very much. Can I be in charge for a while?
— Sir, yes, sir.
— Are you shook-up? Are you nervous?
— Sir, I am, sir.
— Do I make you nervous?
— Sir...
— Sir what? Were you about to call me an asshole?
— Sir, no, sir.
— How tall are you, private?
— Sir, 5'9", sir.
— Five-foot-9. I didn't know they stacked shit that high. You trying to squeeze an inch in on me somewhere?
— Sir, no, sir.
— Bullshit. It looks like the best part of you... ran down the crack of your mama's ass and ended up as a stain on the mattress. I think you've been cheated.
This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it, as I must master my life. Without me my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Before God I swear this creed. My rifle and myself are defenders of my country. We are the masters of our enemy. We are the saviours of my life. So be it... until there is no enemy... but peace. Amen.
