Datasets:
garcianacho
/
Scripts

Dataset card Data Studio Files
xet
 Community
text
stringlengths
1
3.04k
I wonder where they're going.
Same place we are.
I'd like to stay, too, Captain.
You don't count.
I can tell what the gunners had for dinner.
Those guns are close.
What about our grenades?
Those are Tigers, they have sixinch armor, they don't even notice grenades.
Would they notice and eightyeight?
Sure, you got one?
The Germans do.
Upham, you've got to learn the difference between whining and griping. You can't just rely on natural ability, you've got to study and practice.
But, sir...
There you go again, that's whining, that's not okay.
Goddamn it, sir...
That's better, but you've still got a long way to go. Talk to Reiben, he's a natural and works at it, he'll give you some pointers.
What'd you say, Captain?
I teach English at Addley High School in Addley, Pennsylvania.
Captain, what about our deal?
I changed my mind.
Sorry, sir, fresh out of trucks, how 'bout a '38 Ford Roadster, hardtop, red with black interior.
Whitewalls?
No whitewalls, sir, there's a war on. NOT THERE, YOU GODDAMNED IDIOT, OVER THERE! I can't help you, sir.
A halftrack, anything.
Sorry, sir. Division is using everything on wheels to get up to Caen. How come you guys aren't going?
How about that jeep?
That's General Gavin's. His lap dog told me if anyone breathes on it, I'll get busted and if anyone so much as touches it with their little finger, I'll get court marshaled. If you were to take it, they'd shoot me.
A paratrooper named Ryan. He's going home, if he's alive.
Senator's son?
No, three brothers of his were killed in action. Command wants him out of there.
Captain, my feet are most uncomfortable. If I'd 'a known we was gonna have to walk all the way to Ramelle, I never would 'a volunteered for this here mission.
You didn't volunteer, Jackson.
I most likely would have, sir, had I been given the opportunity.
Sir, I have an opinion on this matter.
I'd love to hear it.
Seems to me, Cap'n, this mission is a serious misallocation of valuable military resources. Miller Go on.
Reiben, I want you to listen closely to Jackson. This is the way to gripe. Jackson, continue.
Yes, sir. It seems to me, sir, that the entire resources of the United States Army oughta be dedicated to one thing and one thing only, and that is to put me and this here weapon on a rooftop, smackdab in the middle of Berlin, Germany. Now I ain't one to question decisions made up on high, sir, but it seems to me that saving one private, no matter how grievous the losses of his family, is a waste of my Godgiven talent.
Wade?
Where?
In the shadow by those two trees.
My guess, too.
We left them eightyeights.
They don't send planes to put out machine guns. Two flank runners with surpressing fire. I'm going right, whoever goes left has to be fast.
Watching.
Gives Wade the second shot.
What the hell's the matter with you, Jackson?
Sir, I ain't feeling so chipper on account of Wade.
Who's Wade?
Sir, I understand what you're doin', but I respectfully request permission to grieve in my own manner.
You'll grieve the way I tell you to goddamned grieve. There is no Wade, there was one, but he died a long time ago, he's been dead for so long you can hardly remember his name, you understand?
Sir, I understand. I don't like it, but I understand.
Good, now get your goddamned gear.
Not yet.
Keep trying.
I'm in my backyard, lying in my hammock, with my arm around my wife, listening for the sound of breaking glass.
Say what, Cap'n?
You see, I've got the best house in all of Addley. It's not the biggest house, but it's got the best location, right next to the junior high baseball field. The garage windows face left field. The guy who owned the house before me had these heavy screen S put over them. The first thing I did when I bought the place was take off those screens. Twohundredtwenty two yards from home plate to my garage windows. It takes a hell of a junior high kid to hit a ball that far. I look at my garage windows as a Motivator and a way to scout the kids coming up, the ones who are going to give us a shot at the state championship. I lay there in my hammock and every time I hear the sound of breaking glass, I know we're one step closer to winning it all.
Don't that get kind of expensive, Cap'n?
It's worth it.
To each, his own.
Jackson?
Hell, no, last time I shot a corporal, Cap'n Miller near bit my head off.
No one's gonna win the money for the simple reason that the Captain never was a civilian. They assembled him at O.C.S. out of spare body parts from dead G.I.'s. I know this for a fact.
You got somethin' against the Cap'n?
Hell, no. I think he's the best officer in the whole goddamned army, bar none.
If we find Ryan and he's still alive, that sonofabitch is gonna carry this goddamned B.A.R. back to the beach for me.
Army life is too dang easy, my feet have gone soft. Back home, we go out squirrel huntin', I walk forever and a day and then some, don't even raise a blister.
You know what a B.A.R. weighs? Nineteen and a half pounds, not counting ammo. And you think these things are comfortable? They may look good but they weigh twelve pounds each, that's thirtysix pounds, right there.
Reiben, how many time I got to tell you, I'm from Tennessee.
They got squirrels there, too, right?
Last I knew.
Wade, Sarge, Corporal Insect, all of us, hell, I'll bet even the Captain has a mother.
Fuck Private James Ryan, fuck him, just fuck the goddamned sonofa bitch.
Shut up, will you?
You shut up, this is the most fucked up mission I ever heard of. Goddamned Ryan, fuck the little bastard.
Just shut up, Ryan didn't kill Wade.
The hell he didn't.
You know what the best possible thing that could happen is?
Yep, you step on a rusty nail, get lockjaw, never say another word as long as you live.
So, that's Ryan.
Looks like a flaming asshole to me.
He's right, we can't shoot him...well, we could but we'd get in an enormous amount of trouble. And he's right about the bridge, it's a hell of a lot more important than he is.
Cap'n...?
Yes, sir.
Of course, sir.
Y'all come back.
Reiben, are you makin' fun 'a the way I talk?
Hell, no!
What do you think?
I think I'm we got that eightyeight.
I mean, Ryan, what do you think of him?
He ain't halfbad, I guess.
I guess.
He ain't Wade.
Nope, he ain't Wade.
Well, I'll be goddamned, I knew it.
Like hell, you did.
No kiddin'?
What deal?