[insects chirping]
[animals calling]
[dramatic music]
[monkeys hooting]
[guns firing]
- [Soldier] Take cover!
[uptempo 60s rock music]
[woman singing in
foreign language]
- Hey, soul man.
You got girlfriend?
- Yeah, nah, I'm good.
- Boom-boom, you
want special price?
[speaking foreign language]
- You speak Vietnamese?
- Enough to get me a little
ass and grass if I want it.
- You're full of shit, Felix.
[slow 60s rock music]
- Casper, you all right?
- One, no I ain't.
Two, quit callin' me Casper.
You know I hate that shit.
[Joe chuckling]
- Seriously man,
what's up with you?
- Two.
- Oh, come on man, have one.
- I'm havin' a
beer, motherfucker.
I'm talkin' about Charlie.
Two VC.
- Out in the shit?
- Yes, out in the shit.
Just two VC.
- That ain't
nothin' new, Casper.
You been out in the shit
as long as any of us.
Charlie sits in the hooch
and waits on a couple of GIs
to walk by, and then boof!
Pulls a machine gun out
of his ass and lays waste.
You just gotta look sharp.
- You can't look sharp
for a hole in the ground.
Who's watchin' whose back?
Who's watchin' Whittaker's back?
- You got somethin'
you wanna say?
- Whittaker wasn't
anybody's fault
except the VC that
got the jump on us.
- I'm sayin', who's
got our backs?
You think it's
Lieutenant Sutter?
Or Meeks with the heavy?
Who you think put Whittaker
on point to begin with?
- It was his rotation.
- That's Whittaker, right there
before he bought the farm.
That's my black ass.
And these two
motherfuckers is y'all.
And then right behind
us is Lieutenant Sutter,
over here sniffin' up Joe's ass.
And here's Dan,
Archie, and Meeks.
You notice something
weird about that?
- It's random.
- Whole buncha negros
sittin' on point,
takin' Charlie's first shot.
Point men die like
flies in shit.
Walk around a fuckin'
tree, there's a VC, boom!
You're fuckin' dead.
Sorry negro, you're on point.
Dead, dead, dead, dead.
[bottles clattering]
You're fuckin' dead.
- Don't even sweat it, man.
You got five more months.
Then it's back to the world.
- And we got Private Whittaker's
replacement comin' in.
Private FNG.
They'll stick his ass on point.
That's how it's always been.
- FNG?
Fuck a negro?
- Fuckin' new guy.
It ain't some big conspiracy.
It's the US Army.
- They fuckin' you
in the ass, Felix.
- Hey, it's almost one o'clock.
- Yeah, come on,
let's get goin'.
FNGs.
- All right boys, we got
a sweep on our hands.
Ben Tre's a small provincial
city about 60 klicks
south of our current position.
But the surrounding area needs
to be swept for Viet Cong.
- Sir, standard
rules of engagement?
Search and destroy?
- Well, we're callin'
it sweeping now.
Lieutenant Sutter, you
want to give 'em the rest?
[spitting]
- All right, two days ago, we
lost contact with a platoon
out of the 39th.
Got separated from
their company,
and no one's heard
from them since.
So there's two points.
First, we're not aware
of any major VC presence
in the area, but stay alert.
Don't wanna have
any friendly fire.
- Sir, how do we know
it's them if we find them?
- They are the only
American troops
in that part of the delta.
So if you guys see
anybody, anyone,
and they're not a gook,
they're either your own company
or the missing platoon,
and you will know
them if you find them.
Turns out they're
part of Bravo company.
Lieutenant Marsh's boys.
And they are a salty bunch.
You'll know.
- Drop time's 0600 at LZ Echo.
Be ready.
- [Fourth Platoon] Yes, sir.
[soft acoustic guitar music]
- Hey Meeks.
What's with that?
- It's an M60.
Machine gun.
- Nah, not that.
What's next to it?
That a belt buckle?
- Oh, you mean that?
Yeah, that's a belt buckle.
- Well hey, I love learnin'
about belt buckles.
What's the CS mean?
- Means you care about
where you came from.
- [Casper] You mind if I take
a look at your belt buckle?
- I'd rather you not.
- Well, why not?
I just want to
take a look at it.
- It's special.
It was a gift.
- From the Confederate
States, I take it?
Someone from around there?
- It's from my daddy.
- Your daddy?
He from around
Confederate States?
- He carried it into battle
with him at Guadalcanal,
and passed it on to me.
Heritage.
An unbroken line.
It means something.
- So your daddy, he from
Philadelphia, New York, Chicago?
- Jackson, Mississippi.
- So I guess your
heritage probably involved
a couple of tracts of land
with contract labor, huh?
- As a matter of fact, no.
We were the labor.
My great-great-great
granddaddy scrapped in the dirt
on his boss' farm until
the good Lord called him
to defend his land
from the overreach
of the federal government.
- Sounds like a real sucker.
[laughing]
- Yeah.
Oh yeah, maybe so.
He sure got to shoot a lot of
niggers in blue shirts though.
[dramatic music]
- You got some shit
you want to say to me?
- Oh, I think I just said it.
- Fuck you.
- Fuck you.
- [Private Rubin] Atten-hut!
- As you were.
What's goin' on?
- Oh, just preppin'
for the boonies, LT.
- What about you, Allen?
You ready?
- Almost.
- Well, best finish up.
Because almost ain't gonna
cut it out there tomorrow.
This...
Is Private...
What was it again?
- Ham, sir.
Matthew Ham.
- He's Whittaker's replacement.
Get Private Ham up to
speed, get some rack time.
We're on deck at 0500.
That's five fuckin' a.m., FNG.
- Lookin' forward to gettin'
to work with you fellas.
- Charlie's gonna eat
you for lunch, boy.
- Not if I can help it.
- What'd you just say?
- I said, not if I can help it.
I'm gonna give
'em my best fight.
- Your best fight?
You think this is D-Day?
You think the slopes
give two shits
what kind of fight
you're gonna give 'em?
They think you'll
give 'em a fight,
they'll just slither
off and hide in the dark
and let you step on a
booby-trap mortar round
and blow your foot off,
or fall in a tiger pit and
impale your leg on spikes,
and then they'll shoot
whoever's gotta carry
your sorry ass back.
It's best to just not
get hit, Private Ham.
- Then I guess I'll
just do the hitting.
[Fourth Platoon laughing]
- Looks like we
found our point man.
[upbeat rock music]
[helicopter blades whirring]
- All right, two minutes!
LZ should be clear,
but we are still
establishing a perimeter!
You all know the drill.
- We goin' in hot?
- Only if we get
eyes on Charlie!
You all look sharp, you hear me?
And save your ammo!
- Hey, FNG!
You know what
happens if the slopes
capture you alive, right?
- I don't know.
- They'll strip you
down to your bare ass
and walk you into a
minefield at gunpoint.
If you're lucky, you lose a
leg and bleed out right away.
I saw an FNG lose his toes,
and the tip of his dick.
A bad way to go!
- Just keep your head down.
- 30 seconds!
- All right, lock and load!
[upbeat rock music]
Sing me back home
The song I used to hear
Make my old
memories come alive
Take me away
Turn back the years
Sing me back
home before I die
- Meeks, if you don't
shut the fuck up--
- Why don't you lighten up?
There ain't no slopes out here.
- Motherfucker, I'm out here,
and I gotta listen to you.
- Watch your mouth, boy.
You just ain't got culture.
- Oh, I got culture, boy.
You just ain't Frank Sinatra.
You sound like my little
cousin tryin' to falsetto
a Temptations song.
I never met a girl that makes
me feel the way that you do
You're all right
- Hey, knock it off up there!
This ain't fuckin' camp!
- Hey, Ham.
- Yeah?
- You a virgin?
- What?
- Now, don't lie.
I can always tell when a
guy's lyin' about that shit.
Hey, Felix.
How 'bout the first
time you fucked a girl?
- Man, I hit some fine-ass
Columbian chick back in the day
behind a movie.
I was 15, she was 19.
She kept comin' back for more.
- See, now half of
that was bullshit.
He was 15, she was 19, but
she didn't come back for more.
Casper, you a virgin?
- My name ain't Casper.
- Come on, just your first.
How old were you?
- 16.
- Where?
- At a church.
- At a church?
- In church.
- Yeah, I bet you gave it to her
right up there on the
altar, didn't you?
- Nope, broom
closet, in the foyer.
During church.
[Silas laughing]
- Well now, none
of that's bullshit.
Ham, how did you
lose your virginity?
- I was at the ballpark.
Fenway Park.
- [Silas] Bullshit.
- No, no, I swear.
I would work the refreshment
stands there during summers
in high school.
I used to go bang this
chick real hard in the back.
- Now how'd you get away
with that at Fenway Park?
- I would turn the
popcorn machine on
so no one would hear us.
- Man, you didn't fuck
her in no popcorn.
- No, not in the popcorn.
In the room behind it.
- So this is what, uh, '66?
Uh, '67?
- '66.
- You know, I went
to Fenway Park in '66
with my daddy to
watch an Orioles game.
So we get to our seats,
and daddy asked me if I
wanted anything to eat.
And I said, "Sure, daddy.
"I want a Coca Cola and
maybe some popcorn."
So daddy comes back with
a Coca Cola and a hotdog.
I said, "Daddy, what's
that hotdog for?
"I said I wanted popcorn."
And he said, "Son, I
know, but the man told me
"that you have to order
popcorn from the man
"walking up and
down the stands."
'Cause they don't sell popcorn
at the refreshment counters
at Fenway Park.
- Oh!
[soldiers laughing]
- Guys, come on, I swear!
No, seriously!
- [Silas] Oh, we
gonna have to find Ham
a nice little mama-san
to practice on.
- Okay, yeah, hey,
very funny, but no.
- I said lock it up!
We are five klicks from Phong My
and you clowns sound
like a goddamn Army band.
- [Joe] It's a village.
- Phong My?
- Can't be Phong My,
we're too far out.
Phong Nam's closer, but it's
still three klicks off course.
Nah, it's probably
just some random hooch.
- We sweepin' it?
- Well, that's orders.
- [Joe] One platoon's
gonna be enough?
- Yeah, one's all we need.
We start takin' fire, all
we gotta do is radio it in
to Third Platoon and the
whole damn company shows up.
Charlie knows it.
Fuck.
Any of y'all speak
any Vietnamese?
- Yeah, a little.
- How the hell you
speak Vietnamese?
- Vietnamese lady
babysat me as a kid.
[chuckling]
- English.
Hmm?
Wake!
Ask her how many
people stay here.
[Felix speaking
foreign language]
- Ah?
- What the hell you tellin' her?
- I'm askin' her how
many people stay here.
[Felix speaking
foreign language]
[woman speaking
foreign language]
She says it's just her, sir.
[laughing]
- Bullshit.
[woman speaking
foreign language]
- She says we killed
her whole family, sir.
- Well, ain't that
a fuckin' sob story.
Is she VC?
VC?
V...
- VC?
[woman speaking
foreign language]
- Hey, Ms. Charlie.
You see that M60 and that big
ol' belt of ammo back there?
Hmm?
Now that thing's gonna turn
your house and probably you
into dog food if I find out
that any of those commies
are comin' up through here.
Do I make myself clear?
Wake, tell her.
[Felix speaking
foreign language]
- I think she's
telling the truth, sir.
- I think she's full of shit.
- Why's that?
- 'Cause that lady
wants to kill yo ass.
She could be a runner.
- Runner?
- Runs messages for the slopes.
I think we oughta
torch the place.
- I tell you what, Ms. Charlie.
[lighter flicking]
How 'bout I go light up
your hooch over there, huh?
Or...
You can let Private
Ham light up yours.
- What?
- I don't know how
to say all that, sir.
- No, you don't have to.
She gets the gist.
Don't you, Ms. Charlie?
Ham!
Why do you say to some prime
Vietnamese real estate?
You don't even need
a popcorn machine.
- I say no.
- Let's get somethin'
straight here, PFC.
Dumbass.
You got a problem?
Swallow it.
- It's all clear, sir.
It's just a hut.
- Oh well.
Looks like it's your
lucky day, Ms. Charlie.
All right, pack it up, boys.
We're movin' out.
You better watch your step.
- Or what?
You gonna put me on point?
- You know what?
That ain't a bad idea.
[dramatic music]
- So what happened
to all that talk
about putting the
black man on point?
- [Casper] What about it?
- You're lettin'
Sutter have his way.
- No, I ain't.
- You're on point.
- I wanna be on point.
- That's the most
dangerous position.
- No it ain't, not
out here in the jungle
with the whole platoon.
- What do you mean?
- Charlie ain't gonna fuck
with us head on out here.
We's got the advantage.
Nah, they, they gonna
let us do our thing,
and then pick at us
from the shadows.
So hell, if anybody goes down,
it's gonna be somebody
from the middle of the line
back there, you know?
They gonna shoot him in the
leg or blow his toes off,
to make two guys drag
his ass back to the LZ.
One bullet, three
men off the field.
- [Joe] Maybe we oughta
runs our mouths more often.
[Casper chuckling]
- Hell, we all just
bait out here anyway.
We find the VC and get
fire support involved.
That's where the money's at.
- Everything is always some
big conspiracy theory with you.
Maybe our country is just
trying to help these people
live free lives--
- Hey!
Smell that?
- What?
- Smell like a motherfucker.
[dramatic music]
[explosion booming]
[guns firing]
- Everyone down!
Return fire!
[guns firing]
- They've got us pinned!
[bullets whizzing past]
- Fuck!
- Where's the fuckin' thumpers?
- They're down, both of 'em!
[guns firing]
[bullets whizzing past]
- Hey, get the
fuckin' pig up there!
- I can't, they'll cut us down!
- RPG!
[explosion booming]
[guns firing]
[soldier screaming]
- We're taking too many hits!
- RTO!
Get the fuck up here!
- Sir, they're cut off!
- Fuck this!
Broken Arrow, Broken Arrow!
We're getting overrun--
[Sergeant Rand groaning]
[guns firing]
- Fuck, we need cover!
- Fuck, they're on top of us!
[explosion booming]
[guns firing]
- They got heavies!
Fuck!
[guns firing]
[yelling]
Fall back!
Fall back!
Fuckin' go!
Go, fall back!
- Hey!
Hey, we need support!
Hey, hey!
- We are gonna die if
we don't lay some fire!
Get the pig up there
and wait for my signal!
You frag left, I'll frag right.
[guns firing]
You feed ammo, on my signal.
One, two, three!
[explosion booming]
Now!
[guns firing]
[Silas screaming]
- Fuck!
We follow Sutter, we die!
That way, that way!
Felix, you're first!
Go, go, go!
Joe, go!
- So what now?
We gonna run right into 'em?
- That heavy's
all they got left.
- They got a crew.
They know we're cut off.
- Man, they comin' for us.
You know they comin' for us.
They just gotta
follow our trail.
- We keep runnin'?
- Fuck.
No.
We wait right here.
[drums beating]
[guns firing]
[spitting]
- [Joe] Shit.
- Any of you
motherfuckers bring a map?
[birds chirping]
This ain't it.
- How the hell we get
so far off course?
- Ran a long way.
- The road to Phong
My should be due east
of our original position, right?
If we cut left
out of that creek,
we should be northwest by
about a klick, if that.
- Maybe.
- Might as well keep truckin'.
Rest of the platoon's
probably already there.
- Yeah.
- Hold up.
I didn't agree to nothin'.
- Ain't nobody said you had to.
- Makes more sense to
head back to the LZ
and wait for extraction.
- Oh, you know where the LZ is?
You wanna lead us there?
- I know it ain't east,
and we're headed east.
I know if there's slopes in
Phong My, we're done for.
It looks to me like we're
headed straight there.
I think you just
wanna find Sutter.
- Hmm.
I think you just want
Sutter to find your ass
and save it.
- They can't be far.
- They ain't lookin'
for you, or me,
or any of us negroes.
They left your ass
to die with us,
and you need to get that
through your motherfuckin' head!
- Lieutenant Sutter's
a good enough officer--
- Ain't no Lieutenant
Sutter no more!
Only a low down,
no-account motherfucker
that left Charlie
balls deep up our ass!
You got fucked,
Meeks, in the ass!
Sutter's prayin' to
every god he can think of
we're all dead, so nobody
knows he left us to die.
He aint' lookin' for you,
so we're lookin' for him.
- You gonna kill him?
- Well, I ain't gonna buy
him an ice cream cone.
You gonna try and hang a
nigga for killin' the man
that fucked you in the ass?
Let me tell you something
Meeks, you in this shit.
You got a target on your back,
and the only thing
savin' your ass right now
is a couple of niggers.
Now, that don't
make you a nigger,
but you gonna walk with niggers,
you gonna talk with niggers,
you gonna eat with niggers.
And you gonna protect niggers
with that pig of yours there,
'cause if you don't, you
gonna lay down in a grave
with a couple of dead niggers.
You got that?
[Silas chuckling]
- Whatever you say.
- Good. 'Cause I got two
things to say to you, Meeks.
Number one, get rid of
the fuckin' belt buckle.
And number two, I'm gettin'
tired of being on point.
- Casper, I think
we overshot it.
Phong My couldn't have
been more than a klick out.
We've gone another four by now.
Only thing this far
is a couple of farms.
- We're headed southeast.
If we've gone four klicks,
this'll dump us onto the
east road, somewhere, uh--
[guns firing]
- Sounds like friendlies.
- Charlie!
Wake up and smell
the coffee, baby!
You got to the count of
[speaking foreign language]
to tell me where your gook
friends are stowing their gear
before one of them uses it
to shoot more of my men.
[speaking foreign language]
Where's the stash?
[speaking foreign language]
I'm gonna count to 10 now.
[speaking foreign language]
[gun firing]
Goddamn it, I still can't
learn these fuckin' numbers!
I know for a goddamn fact
you didn't have trouble
findin' those rifles
when this platoon
walked through here
yesterday, did ya?
Well suddenly, you don't
know anything, do ya?
[chuckling]
I'm gonna have to
count to 10 now.
[speaking foreign language]
No, let's try this.
[speaking foreign language]
Ah, English, goddamn it!
[speaking foreign language]
[gun firing]
Holy Jesus Christ on a cracker,
I just counted to 10 in gook!
Now, I'll read you
the Book of Psalms.
Yea, though I walk
through the valley
of the shadow of death,
I will fear no evil,
as long as I know where those
goddamn weapons are hidden!
[speaking foreign language]
- Hey, partner?
- Is this the lost platoon?
Bravo 39th?
- "Lost platoon."
That's what they're
callin' us, huh?
We're with the 39th.
- You Lieutenant Marsh?
- At the hole.
[dramatic music]
[gun firing]
- [Casper] Hey, LT.
- [Lieutenant Marsh] Yeah.
- You Lieutenant Marsh?
- Yeah.
- Who's askin?
- PFC Allen, sir.
We're with the 60th.
They told us to keep
an eye out for you.
- To keep an eye out?
- They said y'all got lost.
- Do we look lost?
- What's in the hole?
- Three gooks.
And their gook kids.
- You waitin' for
'em to come out?
- Are you serious?
Moss!
Frag me.
- You can't frag civilians.
- They could have guns.
- Look, why don't we just
bring 'em out nice and slow
and see if they know anything?
Private Wake here speaks
a little Vietnamese.
[chuckling]
- I don't believe what
I'm hearin' right now.
Please tell me that you're
fuckin' new to this shit,
'cause only a bunch
of fuck-face FNGs
would call a bunch of
gun-totin' mama-sans
and frag-tossin'
baby-sans civilians!
You ever been shot
at by a kid, private?
- Can't say I have.
- They'll shoot you just
as dead as an NVA regular.
- Well, that don't make no
difference to me, or a jury.
- Hey Calhoun, there you are.
Come here, come get
a load of this shit.
- Sir?
- This is my platoon
sergeant, Sergeant Calhoun.
Sergeant, we got a
couple of doves here
who don't wanna frag
the gooks in the hole.
- What?
Why?
- 'Cause they said
it ain't right.
- Huh.
- You ain't fraggin' that hole.
[dramatic music]
- Let me show you something.
Take a look.
Do you know who those men were?
Private Grant, Private
Cooper and Private Steadwell.
You know why they're dead?
Because some little
gook kid pulled an AK-47
from behind a water
tank and cut 'em down
while they handed out
gum and C-rations.
Pat 'em on the head and tell
them it's okay they're dead
because at least they didn't
hurt some little gook kid.
Hell, you should write their
mothers and their wives
and tell them what good boys
their husbands and sons were.
Rubbing lotion on the bare asses
of a couple baby commie-sans
before they got blown away!
Do you wanna tell them that?
You got anything else
you wanna say to me, boy?
I didn't fuckin' think so.
Assume your positions.
[dramatic music]
Fire in the hole!
[explosion booming]
- Yeah!
- Whoo!
[applause]
- All right, all
right, all right.
Round 'em up, boys.
- What are we doin' here?
- What's it look
like we're doin'?
Let's go, line 'em
up in the field!
- You killin' them folks?
- You either help out or
you stay out of the way.
Listen, gooks knocked my whole
platoon down to a dozen men.
I got half here, half out...
I don't know, God knows where.
Probably dead.
That's 24 dead GIs in
exchange for a dozen gooks.
I'd say they're getting
off pretty fuckin' light.
- That ain't gonna fly, sir.
- Why don't you pick a
fuckin' side, Private?
Hey, fucker.
Make yourself fuckin' useful.
Move!
Let's go!
Move, move, move!
[dramatic music]
Fuckin' go!
All right, let's go,
on your knees, down!
- Down, down!
- Get down!
All right let's do
it, turn around!
Pull it in, boys.
- On the left, squeeze it in.
On three!
One, two--
- Hold on, shut up.
Listen, everybody say
bravo on three, all right?
- Okay.
One, two, three.
- [Platoon] Bravo!
[camera shutter clicking]
- Did you get it?
- It ain't balanced right.
- What do you mean, it
ain't balanced right?
- Well, it's all screwy.
You got tall guy over
there on the left,
and it slopes down on the right.
- Montrabe, move it
down a couple spaces.
- Still a little unbalanced.
- For God's sakes, just
take the fuckin' picture.
- No, hold on, I'll move up.
That better?
- Dandy.
- Why don't y'all grab
one of them mama-sans
and drag her into the picture?
- Why the hell would we do that?
- Like a trophy, you know?
Like you just went on a safari
and took down a giraffe,
only it's a Vietnamese giraffe.
- Just take the fuckin' picture!
- Hold on.
I kinda like that.
Yeah.
Hey, come here, honey.
Right here.
No, it's okay, shh, it's okay.
No, right here.
Yeah, smile for the
camera, sweetheart.
- All right.
One, two, three.
- [Platoon] Bravo!
[camera shutter clicking]
- Let's go.
All right.
Light 'em up boys, on three!
One!
Two!
Three--
[guns firing]
[Lieutenant Marsh groaning]
[dramatic music]
- You just killed them,
you motherfuckin' nigger!
- [Casper] Time to calm down!
- You gonna shoot me too?
- I will if you don't calm down,
and take a couple of
big steps backwards.
- [Joe] Drop it, PFC!
- [Casper] Okay Joe,
you need to calm down--
- I said, drop it.
- All right.
[lighter flicking]
Tell you what, Joe.
First, you tell me what
you think the problem is,
and then I'll tell you what
I think the problem is.
- No, fuck you!
You just shot US Army soldiers!
- Okay, so what's the problem?
- They're all dead.
They're all fuckin' dead.
- What the fuck
is wrong with you?
I should shoot you right now!
- You gonna shoot
your own brother?
- Fuck you!
They're gonna put yo ass
in front of a firing squad.
- Let me ask you something, Joe.
You got a dog?
- What?
- A dog, back home,
you got a dog?
- [Joe] Yeah, so what?
- Your dog like you?
- Yeah.
- You like your dog?
- [Joe] Yeah, what's your point?
- So you and your dog
protect each other, right?
You feed him and he barks
if somebody tries to
come into your house.
- Yeah, get the fuck
on with it, Casper.
- So you loyal to your dog
and your dog loyal to you.
- Yeah.
I don't shoot him.
- Let me ask you somethin'.
One day, you walk
out of your house
and your dog loses
his fuckin' mind
and latches on to little
neighbor Sally's arm
and starts tearin'
out chunks of flesh.
What do you do?
- My dog's trained
not to do that.
- Yeah.
99% of dogs are
trained not to do that.
But if you got the
one that does anyway,
what are you gonna
do when he starts
rippin' off the little
neighbor girl's arm?
You gonna stand by and let
him maul a little girl,
just 'cause he's your dog?
You gonna toss him a biscuit,
or you gonna put him down?
- [Joe] That's not
the same thing!
- It's the exact same
fuckin' thing, Joe!
And you need to get that
through your fuckin' head.
Now I know you freaked out
about what just went down,
but at the end of the day,
we're all in this shit together.
- Together?
What side are you on?
- There ain't no sides, Joe!
Havin' stripes on your shirt
don't make you the good guy.
Singin' the Star Spangled Banner
don't make you the good guy.
The only difference between
good guys and bad guys out here
is what kind of code
you dealin' with.
How many good guys you know
out there killin' kids, Joe?
If Command found
out them good guys
shot all those
civilians, we'd all hang.
Hell, we fucked, Joe!
We gonna hang anyway
for killin' them GIs.
The only difference is
lettin' them children die
would keep you up
longer at night.
We are the good guys, Joe.
- Man.
I can't argue with
that, fuck those guys.
- Your bullets in 'em, Meeks.
You can't say shit.
- So what?
So we just gonna hop
a chopper back to base
and tell everyone that Private
Casper went all ape-shit
on the missing platoon?
Hope they just laugh it off?
- Nope, we ain't
gonna say a thing.
We got separated
from the platoon
and found our way
back to Phong Nam.
Made our way back to the
LZ and that's all we know.
You good with that?
Or you want to stand up against
a wall for havin' some honor
and savin' some kids' lives?
- Yeah.
I'm good with that.
- How about you, Felix?
You okay not standin' up against
a wall for those shitheads?
[Felix scoffing]
- Fine by me.
- You gonna try some bullshit?
- Nah.
Let's just get back.
[dramatic music]
- Good news is, platoon
sergeant had a map.
[insects trilling]
- You know what?
I think I figured out
why they call you Casper.
- That ain't my name.
- I'm guessin' it's
'cause you turn
red-blooded American
boys into ghosts.
Right?
- Not quite.
It's 'cause I shot a
little white motherfucker
named Casper and took his name.
That's what we do in my culture.
- Is that right?
- He got it in recruit training.
Drill instructor gave
it to him and it stuck.
- It was dumb, it
ain't even a name.
- Whittaker used
to tell it best.
So drill instructor walks
in on ol' Private Allen here
all conked out up on his
locker but during fire watch.
DI walks over to him and
punches him right in the chest.
Boom!
He says, "You're dead, Private."
And he tells him, "Well,
since you're dead,
"you gotta be dead."
So he makes him wear
this giant white sheet
for the rest of the night, he's
gotta go around and wake up
all the other recruits
goin', "Boo, I'm a ghost!"
- [Silas] Ain't that ironic?
- [Casper] It's fuckin' stupid.
- It stuck, though.
He's been Casper ever since.
- I can see the resemblance.
- Nobody gave you a
nickname in basic?
I was Private Jesus.
[flies buzzing]
[dramatic music]
[guns firing]
- Come on.
[woman screaming]
[guns firing]
- What village is this?
- I don't know, it
ain't on the map.
- M16, friendlies.
- Lieutenant Marsh
said he got cut off
from half his platoon.
Might be them.
- Maybe.
- Hey.
Maybe we oughta let this one go.
[chuckling]
- "Let it go."
It already got us.
- All right boys, round 'em up.
[drums beating]
Move it, go on.
Come on, round 'em up, boys.
Come on, get 'em outta
there, get 'em out.
- Let's go, get out!
Come on!
[guns firing]
[woman screaming]
- Left side's clear.
- [Sergeant McMahon]
Contact, last hooch!
- Get 'em up, get 'em up!
[guns firing]
- All right, we got a
couple more in here.
- [Private Leland]
We goin' in, Sarge?
- Hell no.
Smoke it, Leland.
[guns firing]
- Bravo Company, rest
of the lost platoon.
- This ain't our fight.
This ain't our fight,
come on, let's go.
- [sighs] Yeah, we're
already in deep enough shit.
- Then what have we got to lose?
- All right, let's go.
[woman whimpering]
Let's go, come on, come on.
- Ain't no good gonna
come out of stayin'.
Let's go!
- Come on, little mama.
Ain't so bad.
- What do you think?
Maybe we ought to
leave the lady.
The bitch probably deserves it.
Yeah, he'll probably shoot
her when he's done too.
You good with that?
- He's good with that!
We all are, let's go!
[woman crying]
- So it's just a damn
peep show now, huh?
You want me to go
get you some tissues?
Look at him gettin' her.
Yeah, see?
That's the shit
I'm talkin' about.
Good guys.
Good guys, Joe.
- Hey!
Hey!
Back off, let her go, now!
- Who the hell are you?
- Let her go.
[chuckling]
- You from Second Platoon?
- I'm not from any platoon.
Now get outta here.
[guns firing]
- RTO just got the radio fixed.
Callin' in our
position right now.
- Get back in there
and finish your sweep.
- This is the sweep.
[guns firing]
- Leave it.
- There's gooks everywhere.
- I don't care!
- I'm just gonna pick it up,
and carry it right
back over there.
All right?
Nice.
Slow.
- Clear the chamber.
- Nice and slow.
Nice...
And slow.
- Clear the chamber!
[gun firing]
- Hey!
[gun firing]
- Here we go.
[lighter flicking]
[hard rock music]
[guns firing]
- Eight niner bravo, friendly
fire, taking friendly fire!
Niner bravo, rogue friendlies,
three or four rogue friendlies!
All negroes!
We got a half a platoon
down, request immediate evac!
Zero niner five
to six niner six--
[gun firing]
- Jesus Christ.
- [Silas] You know they're
gonna put our asses
against the wall, right?
- Took us about 10 minutes
to set a world record
for fraggin' our own guys.
- They weren't our own guys.
Our own guys don't
pull that kinda shit.
- Sutter really fucked us.
- No other way about it.
I give it three hours
before a bunch of Cobras
come sweepin' this place,
lookin' to put our
asses in the grass.
- We gonna shoot them down too?
- We did what we had
to do, with no choice.
Don't go gettin' all
twisted up over it.
[gravel crackling]
[gun firing]
Perimeter, now!
- It's clear.
- We can't stay here.
Casper, we can't
sit around out here
waitin' to get shot, man!
- I ain't tryin' to get
shot by no firing squad.
Every one of them boys is white.
What, you think they gonna
stand a couple of negroes up
and take a moral
crisis into account?
[scoffs] Hell nah.
- I get that.
But we gonna die out here too.
How long you think we're
gonna last in this shit?
- I'd rather die out
here than back there.
Shit, I ain't gettin' railroaded
for stoppin' a murder.
- We might still have a chance.
This war's not too
popular right now.
The press'll be all over it.
- Course they will,
and that's exactly why
they gonna put us
away, nice and quiet.
Somebody will roll a frag into
the cell and call it a day,
if they don't shoot our
black asses on sight.
- What if we shoot them first?
- Shoot who first?
- Sutter.
- Joe-Joe, well you got
hard real quick, didn't you?
- Everything that happened,
both those villages,
we found them because
Sutter bailed on our asses
and left us for dead.
- So we just gonna fuck
his shit up, and then what?
Go wait back at the LZ?
- You got a better idea?
- Now look, I told
you there is a code.
I didn't kill no
guys for revenge,
or 'cause they
called me a nigger,
or-or any of that nonsense.
That was defense
of non-combatants.
Women and children.
Now, I stand by
that, but Sutter?
Now, that's a whole
'nother ball game.
- Where the hell is Meeks?
- [Joe] Where'd the bike go?
- He's gonna try and make
it to the LZ for extraction,
and tell some bullshit about
gettin' separated from us.
Never knew nothin'
about anything.
- Gotta beat him there, then.
- We ain't got no bikes.
What, you wanna run?
- We don't need bikes.
We need a boat.
[drums beating]
[dramatic music]
[gun firing]
[Meeks breathing heavily]
[Vietnamese guards
speaking foreign language]
- That stupid motherfucker.
If we were Charlie,
he'd be dead meat.
[Vietnamese guards
speaking foreign language]
- So we just gonna camp here?
- Man, hell no.
Let's keep moving upstream.
- Nah, they'll see us.
We wait right here.
[insects trilling]
- Ready?
- We truckin'?
Why don't you just hit the motor
so we can get up outta here?
I know you ain't havin'
a goddamn moral crisis
over that asshole.
Man, you think he'd
come back for us?
Kick it, Joe.
- He's on our side.
- "He's on our side."
- You in the Army, ain't you?
- He's right.
He had our backs earlier.
- Army gonna fuck us
with or without him.
Might as well bring
him along to the party.
- Guy bails on our asses.
Calls you a nigger.
- I am a nigger.
But I ain't Meeks.
You in?
- I'm in.
- All right man, what we doin'?
[fire crackling]
- You know if you
don't let me go,
you gonna have about 200
fuckin' US Army soldiers
up here in the morning, right?
[Silas groaning]
Fuck!
Oh you fuckin' piss dick,
no good, slope motherfucker!
Keep laughin' with that big gun!
Your village is gonna go
up in flames, motherfucker!
[Silas laughing]
I can't wait to see you cry.
[Felix speaking
foreign language]
I can't wait to watch
you burn, motherfucker!
I'm gonna watch the skin fall
off your fuckin' skeleton,
you piece of shit!
Why don't you come
on up to Jackson?
I'll show you how a white
man treats a fuckin' nip,
you piece of shit!
Fuck!
Shit!
[lighter flicking]
[gun firing]
- Move!
[dramatic music]
[guns firing]
[boat engine chugging]
- How'd y'all find me?
- Wasn't hard with you floppin'
around up on that bike.
- Goddamn fuckin' slopes.
They were gonna skin me alive.
- You wanna tell me why
the fuck you took off?
- Didn't have much of a choice.
- [Casper] That so?
- Die in the weeds with y'all,
die at the base after a
good meal and a hot shower.
- Sounds like you
just fixin' to die.
- You gonna shoot me,
you probably oughta wait
until I give you your
ticket out of this shit.
- What are you talking about?
- Oh, don't want to
shoot me now, huh?
- Shut the fuck up.
What are you talking about,
ticket out of this shit?
- How 'bout you gettin' the
hardware out of my face?
- What ticket?
- Slopes dragged me
inside one of those huts
when they first got me.
They had a radio operator
in there picking up traffic
from the rest of the company.
One came over the wire saying
he found a dozen dead GIs
in a line a few klicks
east of Phong Nam.
Guess who called it in.
- Sutter.
- Loud and clear.
Fourth Platoon found 'em
hours after we were there.
Our platoon.
Us.
- They try to pin it on us,
Sutter gotta tell
everyone he bailed on us.
- And if he decides to cut
his losses and 'fess up?
We got an alibi.
We've been pinned
down by Charlie
since three in the afternoon,
downriver where
we sink this boat.
Sutter ditched us, so we
cut south, trying to evade.
Never got anywhere
near that village.
LT and the boys become
the prime suspects.
- You think it'll stick?
- Only proof they got
we were ever there
was that lieutenant's camera.
- Motherfuck!
That camera's got
everything on it!
- So what happens if
they find the camera
and they see the lost
platoon cheesin' on it?
How do you know we're not
in any of those pictures?
- These pictures?
- [Casper] Goddamn.
[water splashing]
- Just gotta beat
Sutter back to the LZ,
and we're home free.
- That's some good shit.
- We square?
- We square.
- Major?
- Sir?
- Something screwy here.
Bravo's Fourth Platoon
made contact here,
a klick past Phong Nam.
Backs up two klicks west,
then goes back up again
and runs into fresh bodies.
Now why'd they go
through an area
they'd just been ambushed in?
- You think they're lying?
- That radio call
from Bravo Fourth
came in three hours after
Alpha Company's missing platoon
radioed that they
were being attacked.
- Rogue platoon?
- Or two.
Something isn't addin' up.
- The rest of Bravo
Company's fanned out
across that peninsula.
- And they should be right
up each other's asses,
but Fourth Platoon's off by
about two klicks northeast.
- Beats me, sir.
- How many birds we got
comin' in for the extract?
- 11 for Bravo, sir.
- Can you get an extra on deck?
- Yes, sir.
- Good.
I want two gunships
accompanying that extract.
I want a company sweepin'
that peninsula at first light
and I want two squads
at each kill site
and cover every inch of
that delta in between.
- I'll take care of it, sir.
- And Major, clear a seat
on that first bird out.
I'll be on it.
[insects chirping]
- We what, two klicks out?
- If that, LZ's
right up the road.
- 0700?
- We got an hour and a
half if we want a shot
at the first bird out.
- You think everybody's
heard about what happened?
- Probably.
If it was on the radio, every
platoon leader knows about it.
I'm thinkin' we better avoid
the rest of the company
until the birds
are on the ground.
Stake a spot on the perimeter
and catch one comin' in.
- What about the gunner?
- What about him?
- Them Huey's got a door gunner.
Radio operator in
Giong Trom said
a couple negroes went rogue.
You think they might
be on the lookout
for a couple of negroes
runnin' straight for a chopper?
- Maybe we oughta just
blend in with the platoon?
- Yeah, stick to the story,
and act like we don't
know what happened.
- Sutter gonna shoot us on
sight and ask questions later.
Door gunner gonna cut us
down if we look at him funny.
- So we're fucked?
- Not if they don't see us.
- How they not gonna see us?
What, we gonna go Casper again?
- They ain't gonna see us,
'cause they ain't gonna find us.
We wanna pass this
whole thing off,
then we gotta play
it all the way.
VC caught our asses and we
didn't make it to the LZ.
They held us a couple of
days until we busted out,
killed a couple of guards,
and then show up at
Command at Saigon
with a couple AK-47s and
a motherfucker of a story.
Maybe some nice intel on VC
movements south of Ben Tre.
And pissed the fuck off
at our platoon leader
who bailed on our asses in
the midst of a firefight.
Pissed the fuck off
at a guy who's already
gonna be under suspicion
for calling in a kill site
when he was the only one there.
That's how we gonna end this.
We dig a fuckin' hole, cover it,
and hide out for three
days, maybe four.
If we survive those
couple of days,
we hump the 50 klicks
back up to Saigon,
and we got an alibi.
No choppers, nothin'.
Just a ticket outta this shit.
- I can dig a hole.
- Damn it, man.
All right, I'm in.
- Meeks, what about--
[gun cocking]
What the fuck are you doing?
- You were right
about one thing.
They ain't gonna find you.
- Meeks, come on, just...
Put that thing down.
- I been doin' a little
bit of thinkin' here.
Turns out, this
whole goddamn thing
is y'alls fuckin' fault
in the first place.
- Our fault?
You got blood on your hands too!
- I didn't have much of a
fuckin' choice, now did I?
- Meeks, come on man, you
ain't thinkin' straight.
We just saved your
ass back there.
- Yeah.
Yeah, you did.
You know why?
'Cause you got my ass captured
by the fuckin' slopes.
'Cause you greased
a squad of GIs.
But that wasn't enough.
Then you went and
greased a second one.
All I done this whole time
is react to you
killin' friendlies.
- So you gonna kill three more?
- Fuck you!
Stand up, all of you.
Don't even look at them rifles.
Go on.
Go on!
Stand the fuck up, Casper.
Now toss 'em in the
water, nice and slow.
Toss the fuckin' rifles
in the fuckin' water,
or I'll end you.
[water splashing]
Now helmets, toss your
helmets in the water.
[water splashing]
You tie a good knot, boy.
Why don't you go
on and sit down?
- What, you want me
to tie my hands too?
- Nah, I got that.
- Sutter left your ass for
dead, and he'd do it again!
- Sutter survived.
So will I.
- LZ Echo sir, coming up.
- Nobody home?
- No smoke, sir.
You want me to put her down?
- Negative.
Other birds will
make the extract.
Keep headin' east.
We're lookin' for
a couple of rogues.
[insects trilling]
[twig breaking]
[lighter flicking]
- Mornin'.
- Jesus Christ.
What the hell are you poppin'
out of the bush like that for?
We could have shot you!
- Wouldn't that be
a fuckin' tragedy?
- What happened?
Is it just you?
Okay.
You uh, hear about those
dead GIs back in Giong Trom?
- Nah.
- Nah?
Yeah, a couple of crazy
assholes wiped out a few squads
in two different villages.
And word is, they were American.
- Is that right?
- Yeah, well, that's
the word, anyway.
You know, the only problem is,
everyone deployed in operations
has been accounted for.
I mean everyone...
Except you.
- Oh.
That's a funny story.
I got one for you.
Chickenshit platoon
leader takes off
in the middle of a firefight
and leaves a cut off fire
team to die in the shit.
Shoots up a bunch of
villagers on the way back,
gets surprised by
the missing platoon,
and kills 'em to
bury the evidence.
- Huh.
Well, now I didn't say
anything about any villagers.
It was you, wasn't it?
- Everything that happened to
me happened because of you.
- Okay.
Okay.
Tell you what?
Why don't you point that
pig that way and you and I,
we can discuss this?
- Hmm.
Why don't you give me one good
reason not to smoke your ass
where you stand?
- How about because
you'll be dead
before you get a
second shot off?
And honestly, Meeks, I don't
think you wanna end your life
out here in the shit.
So get your fuckin'
head straight!
- LT, I'm already dead.
- No.
You don't have to be, Meeks.
You don't have to be.
Let me ask you a question.
Where are those other
boys you were with?
- Gone.
- [Lieutenant Sutter] Dead?
- Maybe.
- Captured?
- [Silas] Probably.
- All right, then let
tell you something.
Leading a platoon ain't easy.
Sometimes you have to
make the tough choices,
like leaving a few
men in order to save
the whole goddamn unit.
But Meeks, that doesn't mean
I can't try to have your back.
- It's a little late for that.
- It doesn't have to be.
Not necessarily.
Those choppers are gonna
be here in a half an hour,
and everyone in this platoon
is gonna be on those
choppers, together.
Just like we came off.
Just like we've been
the entire time.
All of us, Meeks, together.
Do you...
Do you hear what
I'm saying to you?
- So what, you think they're
just gonna forget about
two dozen dead friendlies?
- Casper.
It was Casper, wasn't it?
Sure.
Sure, he fired the first shot,
and those other
fucking negro boys,
well, they followed right
along with him, didn't they?
I mean, that is, that is
what happened, right Meeks?
[Sutter]Huh?
- It's still your fault.
- Shit happens.
Especially out here.
Doesn't mean it has
to happen to you.
[groaning]
- Why'd you tie these ropes
so motherfuckin' tight?
- So I wouldn't get shot.
- We ain't gettin'
out these ropes.
- Well, I ain't
layin' here sunbathin!
[dramatic music]
[helicopter blades whirring]
- Choppers inbound, step on it.
- There they are.
Put it down by the road.
- Roger that.
- [Lieutenant Sutter] Lieutenant
Sutter, Bravo Company!
- Sutter?
You called in the casualties?
- Yes sir, three klicks
northeast of Phong My.
- Bravo Company's the
only unit out here!
How many men are you missing?
- Three unaccounted for, sir.
Took off during a firefight
outside Phong Nam.
- Where's the rest
of the platoon?
- This is it.
- All right, get your
gunner squad on the chopper.
- [Lieutenant Sutter] Sir?
- We're gonna sweep and
look for these clowns.
I want some firepower on board.
Rest of the platoon,
get up to the LZ
and rendezvous with the
rest of the company.
[dramatic music]
[speaking foreign language]
[Vietnamese guards
speaking foreign language]
- You are our friends.
And you're not bad.
- Yes.
- Hey, tell 'em about Meeks--
[Vietnamese guards
speaking foreign language]
- You wear American uniform.
You carry American guns.
You shoot Americans bullets.
Your planes drop
Americans bombs,
and kill Vietnamese children.
- We killed 20 American soldiers
because they were
shooting Vietnamese.
We killed them.
- We didn't choose this,
we fightin' against it.
- Soul man.
Soul man in Vietnam
is like a fly
caught between two
fighting buffalo.
[metallic clinking]
[dramatic music]
- Let us go and we'll
never come back.
- Vietnamese people
starve because of you.
Vietnamese people
cannot grow rice,
because Americans planes
sprays Agent Orange
and destroys the farm.
American mines take
what once created life
and make it death.
[explosion booming]
[dramatic music]
Vietnamese people
fight for 1,000 years
to get freedom from Chinese.
[Vietnamese guards
speaking foreign language]
Vietnamese people
fight for 1,000 more.
And for 1,000 more after that.
Bullets will not help you.
Bombs will not help you.
And God will not help you.
You will only die.
Go!
[speaking foreign language]
[guns firing]
- The fuck we gonna do?
- I ain't dyin' on no
motherfuckin' landmine!
- They're gonna shoot us.
- Spread out, one goes down,
the others keep movin'.
When I yell, we
break for the trees.
[dramatic music]
Three...
Two...
One.
[speaking foreign language]
- There!
There, GIs, open field upriver!
- Bring her in, Captain.
- Those boys move,
you gun 'em down.
They're dangerous.
[speaking foreign language]
- You know her?
- Yeah.
[helicopter blades whirring]
[speaking foreign language]
- Go home, soul man.
It's not your war.
[guns firing]
- Down!
- Clear this hooch.
- Hey, hey, hey, hang tight.
Remember that door gunner.
- Thank God you found us!
How did you--
- Stay where you are.
- There's your rogues, sir.
- Man, what the hell--
- Sir, what's goin' on?
- Oh, don't play stupid.
We know what you did.
- What the motherfuck
are you talkin' about?
- He knows.
We all do.
After y'all ditched us in
the firefight back there,
y'all up and greased a
bunch of our own guys.
[all yelling]
- That's goddamn bullshit!
- We been here two days!
- That's bullshit.
- We been here two days.
Charlie picked us up at
the end of the firefight,
where LT motherfuckin'
bailed on us.
So I don't know what
you're talkin' about, sir.
- That's bullshit.
- Yeah?
Where were you, LT?
[chuckling]
- Well, I was cleanin' up
the mess you bailed on.
Only then to find out
that you made another one.
On purpose.
- How 'bout you, Meeks?
Where were you?
- You heard the man.
Moppin' up your mess with
the rest of the platoon.
- He was with you
the whole time?
- Yeah.
He was.
- Why don't you
waste these niggers
before they try some shit?
- Colonel?
How'd the men die?
- He knows how they died.
- They were shot.
- What kind of brass?
5.56, M16?
- 7.62.
Somebody used a 60 on 'em.
- I ain't never fired
a pig in my life.
- Sir.
Only one man in the
platoon had an M60,
and it wasn't any of us.
- What the fuck?
Are you accusing me
of killin' my own men?
[Meeks] Fuck you!
You cocksuckin' piece of shit!
You fuckin' nigger, fuck you!
- Hold on.
Now, how much
ammunition did you use?
- I mean hell, I don't know.
Six belts?
- [Colonel Abraham] Looks
like you used more than that.
Let me see that weapon, son.
- I don't know how
in the fuckin' hell
a couple of forked-tongue,
black-ass sons of bitches
get away with accusin'
red-blooded Americans
of turnin' on their own kind.
You wanna be Malcolm X,
don't you, you piece of shit?
I swear to God,
you better be facin' a
firing squad next week.
I wanna see you hang, nigger!
I wanna see you fuckin' dead!
- What's in your pocket?
- A couple pairs of dry socks.
- Take it out, son.
[dog tags clinking]
Gimme those.
You son of a bitch.
[knife slicing]
[dramatic music]
- Oh, Jesus Christ, Meeks!
Oh, Jesus Christ!
Meeks, stand down!
Stand down!
Fuck, Meeks!
I will shoot you!
Meeks!
[guns firing]
[gasping]
[breathing heavily]
- This is fucked...
[explosion booming]
[uptempo 60s rock music]
[woman singing in
foreign language]