The Odd Angry Shot (1979) - full transcript

A group of Australian SAS regiment soldiers are deployed to Vietnam around 1967/8 and encounter the realities of war, from the numbing boredom of camp life and long range patrols, raids and ambushes where nothing happens, to the the terror of enduring mortar barrages from an unseen enemy. Men die and are crippled in combat by firefights and booby traps, soldiers kill and capture the enemy, gather intelligence and retake ground only to cede it again whilst battling against the bureaucracy and obstinacy of the conventional military hierarchy. In the end they return to civilization, forever changed by their experiences but glad to return to the life they once knew.

(Blows)
(All cheer)

(All sing)
Happy birthday to you

♪ Happy birthday to you

♪ Happy birthday, dear Bill

♪ Happy birthday to you.

ALL: Hip hip hooray!

Hooray! Hooray!

Here. Cut the cake and make a wish.

(Giggles)

I hope you made a nice wish, Bill.

I hope it comes true.
(All laugh)



Well...well, open your presents, mate.

(All talk at once)

Oh, I don't know who that one's from.

The red one. Own up.

It might be from Gran over there.

Hey, it's from Gran!

(All exclaim)

Oh, all over the cake.
(All talk at once)

That'll be very handy, won't it?

Come on, hurry up.

(All laugh)

Thanks, Gran.

Lovely.
Who's this from?

(All talk at once)



You can guess what it is.
It's not hard.

(Laughs) Typical.

Oh, that'll be really lovely.
Really lovely, Toni.

'Leaving on a Jet Plane'.

(All laugh)

SONG: Tell me that you'll wait...

Out the back.

♪ Hold me like
you've never done before

I'm Ieavin' on a jet plane...

Will someone come?
No.

Are you sure?
Yeah.

♪ Oh, babe, I hate to go...

(SONG CONTINUES FAINTLY)

You gonna write?
Yeah, Bill, I'll write.

You promise?
Yeah.

♪ When I come back
I'll wear your wedding ring...

(All sing) : For he's a jolly good fellow

♪ For he's a jolly good fellow

And so say all of us.

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

To a safe return.

ALL: A safe return.

Get one for me, mate.

(MILITARY MUSIC)

(MILITARY MUSIC CONTINUES)

There you are, Bill.

Did you hear about the Irish girl
who took the pill TWICE a night?

To be sure, to be sure.
To be...

Harry, we'll stir up the indigenous
population when we get there, eh?

Remember what the man said, Rogers -
"You are the Special Air Service."

"You are visitors in South Vietnam."

Better it's there and not here.

What do you mean?
That we're visitors.

I can see Mum's face
if Mrs Wilson next door came in

and sprayed the joint with a 7.62 tracer.

(Imitates gunfire)
(All laugh)

Scare your flying ducks, wouldn't it?

(All laugh)

Ready for the plane in five minutes.

Oh, get away!

Ready for the plane in five minutes.

Does he think a man's deaf?
Bloody pogo.

(MILITARY MUSIC CONTINUES)

Cards?

ROGERS: Oh.

Take it easy, thanks.

Are you returning with this plane
or staying with us?

There y'are, mate.

Excuse me, sir.

(Soldiers talk at once)

Thanks, Bill. How much?
No worries.

Don't worry, Dawson
your shout next, mate.

(All talk at once)

This is the way to go to war, eh, Harry?

(HELICOPTER WHIRRS
OVERHEAD )

What do you reckon, Sergeant Major?
Been here a week - when will I use this?

Soon enough, soldier.
Then you'll wish you hadn't.

Just remember, when you do use it -
shoot the Charlies, not the villagers.

How will we know the difference?

Oh, you'll know...when they
blow your stupid head off.

(Laughs)

RADIO: Smack-dab in
the centre of your radio dial,

this is AFR Vung Tau,
the Australian sound in Vietnam.

Moron!

(Both laugh)
(THUNDER RUMBLES)

Arggh!

Wet.

Bloody rain.
You could set your watch by it.

What did you say, Harry?
This rain!

You could set your watch
by this fucking rain!

Not you again.

Who were you expecting?
Steve McQueen?

No such luck.

What's this shit?
Scrambled eggs.

You really excelled yourself
this morning, Cookie.

Do you know why they call cooks
fitters and turners?

Why?

You fit food into pots and turn it into shit.

Up your arse.

I'll piss in your scrambled eggs.

(All laugh)

Hey, take your hat off.
You can't eat with your hat on.

(All talk at once)

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

Pay 21.
Bust me for 18s.

Third time in a row.

Wouldn't be trying to cheat
your old mates, now, Ronnie?

Who, me, mate? Unnecessary.

( RADIO PLAYS SOFTLY)

Double it.
No.

Buy one.

And another.

(Sighs)

Sit.

Sit.
Buy one.

And another.

Bust me for four bucks.

What is it?

Here.

There goes your Ferrari, Harry.

I'll sit.

Yes.

Buy one.

Sing.
Sit.

Pay 21.

Pay me...$4.

How many did you have, Bung?
21, mate.

Mmm.

Six...seven's 13...

...eight's 21.

Yep.

Four is 25.
(All laugh)

Sorry, shithead.
Dumb bung, eh, Bung?

Shouldn't try
and get the Black man, Bung.

Funny little games, Bung, eh?

Burnin' eight?
Uh-huh.

Double them?

Buy one.

Rain's stopped.
Sit.

Oh, at least we can
hear ourselves think now.

No, I'm sitting, thanks, mate.

Harry, you playing?

Shut up. Listen.

What?
Shut up.

( RADIO PLAYS SOFTLY)

( EXPLOSION )
Mortars.

(EXPLOSIONS)

(Screams)

Jesus.

(Retches and gurgles)

Medic!
It's a fire.

Give us a hand, you blokes!

Medic!

MAN: Over here! Help me!
Medic!

(CONFUSED HUBBUB)

Medic! Store!
On my way!

Where are you hit?!
Not me, it's Mack.

Check that fire near the fuel dump.

There's a fire out here!

(LOUD CLATTERING)

Medic!
Nothing I can do for him now.

Medic, for Christ's sake!

I've only got one pair of legs.

Lift him up.

Who's that?
Roberts. Lost his gut.

Walked out of his tent
and it went off about 2ft from him.

Oh, shit, what a mess.
Bring a stretcher!

Anyone got a smoke?

6th got two dead, one wounded.

Roberts is dead.

Must have been shock.

I was at his wedding six weeks ago.

( EXPLOSION )

Shit, get some medics now!

Over here! Hey, over here!

Over here!

That fire near the ammunition dump -
put it out now!

Look, we asked for help up here!

(MAN COUGHS IN DISTANCE)

You sure?
How do you know they're dead?!

Come on. Come on. Come on.

Sorry. Sorry.
It's OK, mate. Forget it.

One...one caught it full in the face,
and the other caught it in the chest.

Where's the other one?

Over here.

Torch here, mate. Dressing, Bill.

(Soldier whimpers)

What a shit-fight.

(Moans)

He's OK.
His thigh's ripped open, though.

Will they cut my leg off?

Not unless they're pissed
they won't, mate.

(Chuckles)

(Soldier breathes raggedly)

Get him some water!

Smoky, organise the chopper.
I'll get him ready for the pad.

Come on, Bill.

We'll get those clothes off
and I'll buy you a beer.

You can buy me 10.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(Whispers) Morning, Patrol 24.
Glad to see you made it.

What happened? Get lost or something?

No, it was such a lovely day for a hike.

I bet the leeches are having a field day.

If they bite you, they'll get pissed.

Shut up.

(Sighs) Four days
we've been in this sewer.

Haven't seen a bloody thing.

I hope something happens
before five o'clock -

I'm taking a bird to dinner.

Hard to get a cab at that time.

Well, Bung, I think I'll just
go home and watch television.

With luck I might crack it
for a war movie.

Oh, shit, can I come over?

Only if you promise not to pick
your nose in front of the women.

They don't mind getting their
gear off or a bit of perversion,

but they do draw the line at nose-picking.

(All snigger)

Well, let's go.

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

HARRY: You can set your watch
by this fucking rain.

( LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION )

Hey, the gunner's having a blue
movie tonight at 10 o'clock.

Two bucks and all you can drink.

(All exclaim)

I don't mind a porno now and again.

Now and again...
(Both) ..and again and again.

Hands out up to here.

Grab them by the honker!
Ha, that's right!

(All talk)

(All yell and curse)

(THUNDER RUMBLES)

What can you set your watch by, Harry?

(All) This fucking rain!

Mail!

Mail!

Isaacs!
Yo.

Rogers!

Here!
Here, then!

(All shout)

(Groans) Thanks a lot, Snow White.

Dawson!

Ta.
Dawson!

Hey.
Dawson!

(All cheer)

He writes them to himself, you know.

Clark!
That's me.

Westfield!
Over here, thanks, mate.

Roberts!
He's dead.

Scott!
Yeah.

Martin!
Sir!

( PLANE ROARS OVERHEAD )

Hey, mine's a bill.
Who do you owe money to here?

No-one. It's from Australia.

I think I'll reply, "Dear sir,

"I find it necessary to inform you
that I am at present indisposed."

"And what's more, I don't give
a rat's arse about your $3.50."

RADIO: AFR.

(Singers on radio)
♪ The purest form. ♪

AFR plays...

♪ ..more music. ♪

Armed Forces Radio
Vung Tau 1040.

ANNOUNCER: That's right,
you're on AFR,

the Australian sound in Vietnam.

This is Tony Roberts with you
with the lunchtime program.

We again apologise for the late
start to the lunchtime program

and also our break this morning.

This was due to
minor technical difficulties...

(Groans)

Take a look at this.

Jesus. They don't look good, mate.
I think you've got leprosy.

My feet are OK.
It's my crotch that's my problem.

We know - you can't leave it alone.

I wouldn't worry.
Everyone else in Task Force has it.

What? Rogers' crotch?
(All laugh)

Knew he had some poof in him.
Hey, up yours.

There you are. Told you, deadset queen.

(All laugh)

Hey.

Can something cure me footsies?

I'm told it helps if you piss on them.

What's it do?

Stink kills ya - save yourself worry.

I'll go see the M.O.

He won't do you much good.
Why not?

He's got it himself.
(Laughs)

(Laughs)

Anybody got any porn?
God, the man's a pervert.

Page 34, mate.

(All laugh)

The Vietcong Provincial
Mobile Battalion D445

has been active
down in the Long Green.

Now, it appears they're being
resupplied from the north

along trails through the My Tau
and then down through Xuyen Moc.

Air photo recce south of Xuyen Moc
shows two likely staging areas here...

Got that? And here.

Alright?

Lieutenant Golonka with Patrol 31
confirms this as a small staging camp.

Now, in outline, your task
will be to reinforce him

within this extended op zone
and recce this larger staging camp.

C and D Companies from 6 R.A.R.
are 5,000m to the south.

Now, 31 wants the RV
at this small creek junction.

Known LZs are marked on the map here.

Here are the grid references.

Those southern LZs
are probably very swampy now,

but if the ones look dodgy
closer to your op zone

you better check them out.

Any questions?

Oh, yeah.

You're pretty sure there's only VC
and no NVA down there?

Yeah, pretty sure.

There's been no contacts reported
for eight days

and before that it was all D445, OK?

Right. Thanks, mate.

Here endeth the lesson.

We'll look nice and obvious
scouting for the battalion.

70-odd bloody nashos
wandering around 5,000m behind us.

It's not that bad, mate.
It's all the better, really.

If we meet a mob from the opposition,
at least we'll have some support.

Safety in numbers, you know.

My arse it's safety in numbers.

These bastards
don't want to hear about war.

Civilians in uniform.
It's not their fault.

Hey! Have a go at this!

It's a beauty. Where'd you get it?

I pinched it from the Yanks.

They get that close, I'm surrendering.

( LAUGHTER)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(BIRDS CALL)

The boss.

OK, so, what's the situation?

See this creek line here?
Yeah.

We suspect that there's
a staging camp on this rise,

about 40 or 50 yards north.

About here.
VC or NVA?

VC.

Who cares? They all want to kill ya.

Why not call in an air strike?

We don't know if it's occupied.
We want to know what's in there.

We suspect it's a weapons and food
cache, maybe some documents.

OK, when do you want us to move out?

Move in 15 minutes.
You lead. Brief your boys.

(MACHINE-GUN FIRE)
Arggh!

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)
Medic!

Get Scott!

Cover me
and don't shoot me in the arse!

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

What's going on?!

Scott's been shot.
There's a bunker in front of us.

Grenade!

( EXPLOSION )

(Scott moans)

(GUNFIRE CONTINUES)

Give us the 203.
Mick's got it.

Where the fuck is he?
Behind you!

Get up here!

Oh, shit.

Shit.

Hurry it up, Bill!

Give us a look at ya.

Did you get him?!

Just wounded, I think.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Make contact!

Right. Let's go.

(Scott moans)

(Scott moans)
Move! Move!

(Shouts indistinctly)

(Screams and wails)

Anybody else wounded?
Yeah, Jacko's got a nick.

And our 64 says "ratshit".

Dust-off's on the way.

Tell them to hurry it up. Scott's a mess.

(Scott continues screaming)

How is he?
Shithouse.

I wish he'd stop screaming.

(Scott screams)

After today's effort
I make it home team 8, visitors 1.

Yeah, makes you wonder.

How'd it go, fellas?
Could've been better.

Home sweet bloody home.

You alright, mate.
Yeah, sure.

Debrief in an hour.

Debrief in an hour.

( LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION )

This soap's making my hair fall out.

I wonder who makes it.
Uh!

(Laughs)

It's probably a leftover lot from Belsen.

(All laugh)

Yeah.

Hey, Isaacs,do you realise

you're probably washing
with your grandmother?

My grandmother's in Melbourne
driving a big bloody Cadillac

and she wouldn't piss on you, Harry.

Yeah, good one, Isaacs.

I still can't do anything with my tinea (ringworm-fungal infection).

Neither can I.

Hey, Isaacs.
Yep?

How can we get rid of tinea?
Piss on it.

Seems I've heard that
somewhere before.

RADIO: ♪ Oh, babe I hate to go... ♪

Oh, that feels better -
for a little while, anyway.

I wonder how Scott is.
Yeah.

You blokes want a beer?
Oh, is the Pope a Catholic?

RADIO: Smack-dab in
the centre of your radio dial...

(Dawson sings) ♪ ..on a jet plane

♪ Don't know when I'll be... ♪
Smoky.

Smoky.
Sing us a song.

Hey. Come on, mate.

Want a beer?
Is the Pope a Catholic?

20c.

Harry, how many beers
have I bought you?

Now, fair go, mate.
(All) Shut up.

20c.

Want a loan?

Christ.
Oh, I can't find the hole.

You would if it had hair round it.

(All laugh)

You know, I was reading
the other day...

...that more people die
on the roads at home...

...than get killed in Vietnam.

Well, that's most reassuring, Harry.

(Laughs)

How's your bird?

Oh, she hasn't written.

I reckon I've been given the arse.

Oh, well, that's life.

Scott died on the way to Vung Tau.

Loss of blood.

Jesus.

(Normie Rowe sings on radio)
♪ Who am I to ever say?

♪ If it's right or if it's wrong

♪ It's easier to go along

♪ Knowing what I do today... ♪

One more statistic.

♪ ..in yesterday

♪ When it's lost in yesterday

♪ Who cares... ♪

To Scotty.

♪ ..anyway?

♪ Who cares, anyway? ♪

I've got to have a break.

Hold on, I'll come with you.

( PLANE ROARS OVERHEAD )

Hey, Harry, what are you doing?
Sketching.

Yeah? Never knew you could draw.

That's not bad.
Where'd you learn to do that?

Art school. Before I joined
the army I was a painter.

As in pictures. Even had
a couple of exhibitions.

How come you joined the army?

My wife. I left her.

Oh, didn't realise. Sorry.

So am I, Bill.

What happened, Harry?

Well, I got married
with the idea of settling down

and looking after the woman.

I said to myself,
"Here's one that's different,

"here's one I can...
really do the right thing by."

Then after about 10 months
of marriage she starts ringing up

saying she's working late,
or an old girlfriend's dropped in.

Getting into another couple
of blokes, was she?

It seems she just
didn't want to be with me.

Shit.

Yeah, that's what I thought, Bill.

Anyway, one Friday night she rings up -
it was our anniversary -

and says she's been invited out
by some people she works with.

Didn't you ask her
if you'd been invited, too?

Yes, but she said
they weren't my sort of people.

I wasn't the type
that would fit in with them.

She came home
about three o'clock in the morning...

...rotten drunk...

...collapsed on the couch
and went to sleep.

What did you do then, Harry?
Give her a screw?

I packed a suitcase
and stood at the end of the couch.

I prayed that she'd wake up
and say that she was sorry.

Anyway, she didn't.

So after about an hour, I...

...kissed her on the forehead...

...told her that I loved her,
walked out the door.

Joined the army the next day.

And here I am.

I'll be buggered.

Yes, I was - well and truly.
Well and truly.

Who have we got here?
Don't we look lovely?

Pick up a boxer, did ya?
(All laugh)

Greetings, O saviours
of mankind and the free world.

And much respects to you and your
charming husband, Your Godship.

What can we do for you?
(Groans)

He's constipated.
Oh, shoot him. He's in pain.

As you are all no doubt aware...

...we have had occasion from time to
time to use one another's equipment.

And so, my sons,
I was wondering if any of you

have come into contact at all
with the prick who's pinched my pack.

Your what?
My pack!

Where'd you see it last?
The back of me tent.

Bung, it may be that we
can be of some small service,

but, as you know, we are businessmen.

What's the catch?

I would say it would cost you
one dozen cans of the finest ale

for we four to get up off our arses
and find your pack.

Are you sure you know where it is?

90% sure.

Alright, it's a deal. Where is it?

Cans first.

Go, Bungy!
Go, mate.

Go, man, go.

What's the matter? Aren't you back yet?

Look at that style!
Don't drop 'em!

Are they cold?
Oh, for fuck's sake.

Yeah, they're freezing.
Good man.

Now, Bung, come with me.

Now, you see that big tree up there?

Yeah.

In that tree is
a big bloody orang-outang

and we are sure - that is, I'm sure -

that not only is your pack
up there with him,

but every other piece of equipment
we've lost over the past week or so

is up there with him, too.

Well, I'll be buggered.

I don't know how we get
our gear away from him,

because I'm sure I'm not going near him

and I don't suppose any bloke's
gonna have a bash at him.

What are you doing?
Why can't we just shoot him?

Can't. The 2IC says
shooting's out of the question.

Why?
How in the Jesus would I know?

I suppose it's something like
the bloke that shot the albatross.

Anyway, he said no. N-O.

This cost a dozen cans of beer.
We did our best, Bung.

Here's half a dozen back.

Make it five.
Make it four.

Arggh!

Two.
(All laugh)

Thanks, fellas.

Oh, by the way, just in passing,
who's going to give me a hand to move?

Because Patrol 24's been
broken up and I'm replacing Scott.

Welcome to Patrol 22 -
specialists in arson, murder and drinking.

Right! (Laughs)
(All laugh)

Good on ya, mate.

( LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION )

What's this mess?
Sauerkraut, smart-arse.

Be nice, Cookie,
or I'll shove your head in it.

(Soldiers laugh)

No, on second thoughts,
it looks bad enough already.

( LAUGHTER)

Give him a serve, mate!

Hey, where's Bung?
The cook finally poisoned him.

Yeah.

Hey, Cookie!

Yeah?

This isn't bad. It's almost edible.

Get knotted.

I should have exactly
$2,200 when I get home.

If we don't drink it for you.

What are you going to do with it
when you get home?

I might buy a sports car.
Hard to screw in.

I suppose so, yeah.
Well, maybe I'll buy a block of land.

Knowing our luck,
they'll probably put a road through it

and give you four-bob compensation.

They can't do that.
Too right they can.

Has anybody got a cigarette?

Do you mean they can take your
land even if you served overseas?

Look, don't get any ideas
that you're anything special

just because a few nogs
have fired shots in your direction.

They can do anything they like to you.

You can scream your tits off.
It won't do any good.

Oh, bullshit, I don't believe that.

He's right. They can shoot you
and there's nothing you can do.

You'd better start to believe

that the majority of
the wonderful people back home

couldn't give two stuffs
whether you lived or died.

They're sitting on their arses
in front of the television right now,

and I bet my balls they're more damn
interested in 'Coronation Street'

than they are in your bloody welfare.

Maybe I'll buy the MG instead.

Bet the salesman takes it out.

Bastards.

Fight!

It's a blue.
Hey, a blue! Hey-hey!

There's a blue!

Hey, come on, Harry, worth a look!

(Soldiers cheer)

Shut up about this
or you'll get more than a broken nose.

I was ordered to spray by the M.O.

I don't care WHO told you.

Just grab the bloody contraption
and piss off now.

(Soldiers boo)

Hey, what happened?

Oh, this medic was spraying the
tents and someone inside complained,

and the medic told him to piss off,
so the bloke thumped him.

The rot's set in.
What do you mean?

I've seen it all before.

First they start to argue
with one another -

a few "piss-offs" and "get stuffeds"
and nobody takes any notice.

Then comes stage two

when all this camaraderie
and esprit bullshit just goes.

Then comes stage three
where they fight and the morale goes.

Now, once the morale goes,

the sick parades start to get longer
and the casualties start to mount up,

and all we want to do
is get home and get the job over

so we don't take risks,
'cause there's no reason to.

(PLANE ROARS OVERHEAD)

(PLANE ROARS OVERHEAD)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

What do you think?

Christ knows what's in there.
Could be a pontifical high mass.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

It looks deserted.

They're coming in with battalions
right behind us,so our arse is safe.

Do you want to take a look?

You filthy, dirty, sex-crazed thing.

(Laughs softly)

You take the corner of the temple
nearest us.

You and I will take the farthest corner.

Away you go, mate.

OK.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Bugger all.

Nothing at all?
Just a few statues of Buddha.

Listen, it's no use hanging around here.

Contact D Company
and get them to check the place out

for concealed caches
and tunnel entrances.

Four, this is Snoopy 22. Over.

Saved again.

DAWSON: Uh, there are no enemy
in vicinity.

Please make a search
for hidden caches, any tunnels,

any other signs of enemy activity - out.

(FROG CROAKS)

Jeez, I'd love a Passiona.

(FAINT FOREIGN CONVERSATION)

(Speaks Vietnamese)

(TRICKLING )

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(Shrieks)

(GUNFIRE )
(Screams)

(Men shout in Vietnamese)

Bill, Bung, move!

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Medic, with me!

(Groans)

This one's no worry.

OK. Let's go!

(Groans)

Come on.

Move!

Come on.
Well, you take the AK-47, then.

(LOUD HISSING NOISE)

How would it be
if the nogs had air support?

Thank the sweet Jesus they haven't.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

I have visual. 500m, turn north. Over.

RADIO: Throw smoke. Over.

Smoke thrown. Over.

RADIO: I see blue. Over.
Blue is correct. Over.

RADIO: Blue correct. Out.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC CONTINUES)

RADIO: Now we have Newcombe,

who's been serving so well
throughout the series,

coming up in possibly the last game.

Serving to Orantes.
First service, and a long service called.

Hey!

Leave roster's posted!

We on it?!

Yeah. You, me...
(Soldiers cheer wildly)

(All shout)

Hey, what about me?

Get out of it. You're not there.

(Dawson shouts angrily)

Sit on your pole.
Oh, it's not bloody fair!

Hey, look at that.
What?

Airconditioning. These bastards
have got airconditioning.

I'll be buggered.
Must be a rough war here.

I can just hear the news flash
now— "Armed Forces Radio."

(All sing radio sting)

"Vung Tau today."

"Six post office workers
at the Australian Logistics Base"

"died in the early hours of this morning"

"when the airconditioning unit failed."

"Two more were reported
to be in a critical condition"

"upon hearing the ice
for the beer hadn't arrived."

(Laughs)

DING!

Where do we change our money?

"Where do we change our money, sir?"

Do beg my pardon.
Where do we change our money, sir?

That's better.

You blokes think you can come
here and take over the place

just 'cause you've done
a bit of time in the scrub.

Well, you bloody well can't.

What's more, you'll behave
like soldiers while you're here.

You understand?

It's no bloody picnic
down here, you know.

Yes, sir.

What unit are you blokes from?

Special Air Service, sir.

Uh-huh.

You blokes think you're supermen.

Bloody tin heroes.

Oh, get fucked.
(Laughs)

What?!

I said get fucked,
you great beer-sodden bag of shit!

Right.

You're all on a charge.

You'd better make it murder, because
I'm gonna knock your fucking head off.

I'm a senior NCO, don't forget.

Tough luck.
Right, hold it!

You lot, get out.

Yes, sir.

Now, what's all this about,
Sergeant Major?

We had a bit of a disagreement.

Do you, er, want to proceed with it?

No, let's forget it.

Right.

In that case, you can tell me
where we get our money changed.

Harry, where do you propose
we change our money now?

Buggered if I know.

Alright, you lot.
Yes, sir.

Change your money at the post office.

Follow the road past the PX.
And try to stay out of trouble.

You were bloody lucky this time.

Thank you, sir.

(ENGINE STARTS)

(ORIENTAL MUSIC)

(ROCK MUSIC)

Hey, Harry. Harry, they've
got these duck pancakes here.

(HUBBUB)

( LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION )

Hey, look up there, man.

Girl, you better come
and get some of this Lorne Greene.

(Both shout indistinctly)

You G.I.'s want to change money?

Hey, piss off, slopehead. Go on.

You got change? You got U.S. green?

Oh, yeah.
How much you got?

"How much you got?"
I'll give you three to one.

You can change now.
He don't know no better.

Here you are, kid.

$10 - three to one.
You can get better than that at the PX.

Newspaper! That asshole!

Hey, come back here!

Catch that bastard!

Stop that kid!

Come back here!

Grab that kid!

Oh!

You want this prick?
Sure do.

Why?

The mother changed our money
and gave us newspaper.

That's the oldest con there is.

Hey, split you 50-50 for all he's got.

50-50? Alright.

Into the alley. Come on, man.

Now we're gonna teach you
the evils of robbing poor soldiers.

Hey, I wonder if he's got any sisters?

Let me have a go at the little bugger.

HARRY: Hey, he's loaded.

G.I.: Jesus F. Christ.
Look at this, will ya?

(HUBBUB)

500. 501.

502.
Not bad for a night's work.

Hey, we'll split it now.

Nah. Hey, hey, I've got a better idea.

ALL: What?

Why don't we get ourselves
a room in the best hotel

with the best whores in the joint
and have a party?

What do you say?
God bless America!

(All cheer)

You pay now. 1,000.

('BUCKAROO' PLAYS ON RADIO)

I've got nothing but time.

You clean?
Like Snow White's thumb.

What?
Doesn't matter.

You like me?
Yeah.

You very big.

I bet you say that to all the heroes.

I like you.

Come, we lie down.
No. We stand.

You mad?

Probably.

Hey, what are you doing?

Making a present.
A present? Who for?

Padre.
Padre? Why?

Last time he came round,

he asked Harry and me
why we never came to church.

And Harry, instead of saying
we weren't interested,

said we were making something
for the chapel.

See, the feathers
are connected to the handle.

What's it for?

You wait until you're feeling randy,

then you turn the handle
and the feathers do the rest.

(Laughs)

So there you have it, you see -

one fully operational wanking device,
Padre for the use of.

We're gonna give it to him next time.

(Laughs) That I gotta see.

Yeah.

(Laughs)

Thanks, mate.

You blokes feel like a game?

What's in the box?
Me pet spider.

Pet what?
Spider.

I bought him from a Yank.
Give us a look.

OK.

Oh, stand back.
Ah, she's not what you'd call friendly.

(HINGE SQUEAKS)

Oh, Jesus. Eugh.

What's he eat?
Meat.

Spiders don't eat meat.
This one does.

What's his name?

I've called it Gladys Moncrieff.
It's a girl.

Our Glad.
Aha!

Do I detect the unmistakable tang
of Ye Olde Tiger?

You can sniff out booze from six miles.

(Laughs) It's just one
of my many talents.

Why not?

There you go, Gladdie.

Dollar limit, OK?

Yes, 20c minimum bet.

Isn't the spider playing?
(All laugh)

You gonna deal?
Whose cards are we using?

What are you talking about?
My marked pack.

Oh, great.

Hello, what's this? The ace of spiders?

(All laugh)

Take your beret off - it's not formal.

Take your hat off.

Double your bet.

20c minimum bet.
What are you doing?

Anybody home?
Yeah. Come in.

BILL AND ROGERS: Surf dicks.

Bring your gun barrel
and try not to scratch the piano.

(Laughs)

Artillery.
Hi.

Sit down, make yourself at home.

Thanks.

Would you like a beer?
Oh, sure.

20c.

Thank you.

Thank you. What can we do for you?

Have you come to see what...

...life's like at the sewer end
of the Task Force?

Nope.

We heard one of your guys
has got a spider.

Me. Why?

Well, we got this here
pet scorpion back at our place

and we figure our scorpion
can beat the shit out of your spider.

So?

We want to arrange a match -
your spider against our scorpion.

50 bucks on the outcome.

What about side bets?
Jointly controlled.

50-50 on all unclaimed bets.

Fair enough.
(All agree)

As far as refreshments go,

we got about 30 dozen cans
of Budweiser lined up.

We figured seeing as our CO and 2IC
are gonna be in Saigon next week,

we'd have a combined sports day
and barbecue, huh?

We'll put the spider-scorpion
match as the main event.

What about the other pigs?
Are they going to Saigon?

I'm the only one left.

You're an officer?

Lieutenant Clifford.
Bullshit.

It's no bullshit.

Well?

He's on the level.

Right.

OK, fellas, see you and your guys

about two o'clock
next Wednesday afternoon.

Don't forget to bring your spider, huh?

Oh, we'll be there.

Our spider will chew the arse
right off your scorpion.

(Laughs)

And all bets off
if one tries to root the other.

You got yourself a deal, man.

(All laugh)

I can't stand a bottle blonde.

(All laugh)

One. One. One. One.

(ENGINE STARTS)

Bill, the Padre's here. Come on, get up.

Wake up, the Padre's here.

What's wrong?

We're gonna make
the presentation to the Padre.

Where is he?

Harry's bringing him over now.
(Groans)

I've been sweating alcohol
for the last six hours.

Jesus, hold on. Oh.

Oh, come on. (Laughs)

If you don't stop laughing, I'll kill you.

Yeah, alright.
Oh, you don't look at all well.

Could this be the same
freedom fighter we saw last night

drinking half a bottle of rum on his head?

That's what happened?
You were the life of the party.

Let Gladys Moncrieff sit on your arm.

Who?
Me spider.

Oh, Jesus, no.

(Laughs)

How'd that happen?

Oh, why don't you take a look
at yourself? (Laughs)

What a brothel.

I wish it was.

How'd that happen?

You and Bung had
a disagreement last night.

About what?
I don't know.

We were playing cards,
next minute you two were fighting.

I can't remember a thing.

Never mind. What's a smack
in the eye between friends?

Did I win?
No, mate.

OK, fellas, Padre's here!
Padre. Come on.

On behalf of ourselves
and other members of the unit present,

um, we would like to offer you
this small token of our esteem

which comes with our, um...
profound gratitude

for all the wonderful things you've done

to make our stay in this country
just a little more, um, enjoyable.

Padre.

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

Hip hip!
ALL: Hooray!

Boys, this is one of the nicest
moments of my life.

It's not easy being a padre,

trying to bring God's word
to angry groups of men

whose sole business is fighting wars.

But I would like you to understand

that it's at moments like these
that an outsider -

and even though I've been
in this army for over 15 years,

at times I still feel an outsider -

feel as though
he has a place alongside you.

I feel almost guilty.

...I would just like to say

it's the most well-constructed
wanking machine I've ever seen.

Thanks, fellas.

Have to go, fellas. God bless you.

(SCATTERED LAUGHTER)

(All sing) ♪ Hooray for Padre

♪ Hooray at last

♪ Hooray for Padre

♪ He's a wanker's arse. ♪

(CHEERING)

Four the spider.
Who'll give me four the spider?

Who'll give me four the spider?
Four the spider!

(All shout)

Oh, come on! Five, then.
Who'll give me five the spider?

(All shout)

Who'll give me five the spider?

Give us 10 and I'll drop ya.

Who let you in here,
you drunken street urchin?

Begone or I'll have you whipped.

(Growls) Get that fool away
from the betting pavilion.

(All shout)

Take your places for the contest.

(All shout)

(Australians sing)
♪ Waltzing your spider

♪ Waltzing your spider

♪ You'll come a-waltzing your spider... ♪

(Americans sing)
♪ ..up the flagpole

♪ Right up his asshole... ♪

(All sing at once)

(All shout and sing)

Come on, shut up, will ya?!
Shut up!

Alright. Alright.

Gentlemen...

...release your insects.

(All shout)

Come on, Gladys, it's a fight, not a fuck!

(All shout and cheer)

Come on, Gladys!
Come on, get off your back, girl!

(All cheer)

Unfair! Unfair!

Arggh!

(All shout)

Murderer!

Hold me beer, Harry.

What are you doing, P.J.? It's me, Bung.

(Yells)

Hey, you're learning, mate.

Hey...

...need any help, mate?

This cunt's trying to kiss me!

(SHOUTING AND CHEERING)

Well, kiss him back!

What'd you say?
Kiss him back!

Right!

It's just like the grand final.

Yeah - impossible to get a drink.

You alright, mate?
Yeah.

Good.

You bastards!

Look after this one, Harry.

Arggh!

(JOLLY MILITARY-STYLE MUSIC)

RADIO: 'Young Girl' sung by
Gary Puckett and the Union Gap.

It's appropriate we play
the most played record here on AFR.

SONG: ♪ Oh, my bags are packed

♪ I'm ready to go... ♪

Three months to go.

Three months to go where?

Three months before you go home.

All you've got to do
is keep yourself alive...

...for the next three months...

...and home you go.

♪ ..is blowing his horn

♪ Already I'm so lonesome I could... ♪

Anyone want some mail?

Any for me?

Yep. One for you, too, Harry.

Thanks.

♪ ..and smile for me

♪ Tell me that you'll wait for me

♪ Hold me like
you've never done before

♪ I'm leavin' on a jet plane... ♪

Yeah, bad average, eh?

What's that?

You wouldn't credit it.

In nine months, one letter.

She's finally written?

Yeah.

She reckons we should break it off.

She's moved into a flat with a girlfriend.

Girlfriend my arse!

(Song) ♪ I'll tell you now
They don't mean a thing

♪ They don't mean a thing... ♪

Bitch!

♪ So kiss me and smile for me

♪ Tell me that you'll wait for me

♪ Hold me like you'll never let me go... ♪

(Man sobs)

♪ I'm leavin' on a jet plane... ♪

(Sobs)

What's the matter, Bung?

Hey, for Christ's sake,
what's the trouble?

Hey, Bill.
Yes, sir?

I want a word with you.

Look, er, about an hour ago
we got a signal

that his mother and girlfriend
were killed in a road accident

early yesterday morning.

Oh, Christ.

I've been keeping an eye on him,

but, look, make sure
he doesn't do anything stupid.

Do you want us to pack his gear?

He says he doesn't want
to go home. He wants to stay here.

Look after him, eh?
Sir.

Thanks, Bill.

Sir.

You OK, mate?
Yeah, I'm OK. Bung's not.

What's up?

I'll tell you later.
Help me take him to camp.

(Sobs)

You right, mate?
Grab the other arm.

Come on, Bung. Come on, mate.

You'll be right.

(Yells in Vietnamese)

(Wails)

Inside, now!

(Wails)
Get up!

She thinks you're going to shoot her.

Inside. Inside!

(Continues wailing)

What's her trouble?

That came out shooting.
There were three of them.

Where are the others?
The battalion's got them.

Prisoners? Why the performance, then?

We think it's her son.

Let's go!
(Woman continues wailing)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

(EERIE MUSIC BUILDS)

(CICADAS CHIRRUP SOFTLY)

Range? They've got to be kidding.

As if there's not enough
bangs in your ears.

Bloody waste of time.

Just another excuse
to make a man clean his rifle.

Jesus, Bung, I told you
you're the worst bloody shot in the unit.

Great fuck, but.
Not what I've heard.

( LAUGHTER)

Watch this, my dears.

(All cheer)
And another.

(All cheer and laugh)

Drinks for my friends!

(All cheer)

Righto, what smart prick did that?

Don't know.
Must have been a ricochet.

I suppose a ricochet did that, too, eh?

Fucked if I know, mate.

Don't you "mate" me, soldier.
You're on a charge.

And what charge would that be?

Wilful destruction of army property.

Oh, that charge.

That goes for you three
smart bastards, too.

What unit are you from?
Artillery.

Let's have your names.
Gray, Green, Brown and Oakover.

What?

Gray...

.. Green.. Brown ..

(Laughs)
What's so funny, pal?

Uh, something I read yesterday,
Corporal.

OK, Laughing Boy,
you can take notice now

that I'm gonna
throw the book at you four.

Yes, Corporal!

What's your name?

Oakover.
Oakover.

How do you spell that?

O-A-K-O-V-E-R. O...Oakover.

Righto. Piss off.

Who's Oakover? Is that a real bloke?

Yeah.
Who is he?

Deputy commander of the task force.

(All laugh)

Who says crime doesn't pay, eh?
(Laughs)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

Dust-off's on the way.

What do you reckon?

Shock will kill him
before they can operate.

No way.

I'll be surprised if he DOES
make it. His jaw's broken, too.

There'll be no more
tap dancing for you, mate.

(HELICOPTER WHIRRS
OVERHEAD )

How bad?
Awful.

What happened?
Mine.

What's gone?

Both feet, smashed jaw and cheekbone.

Albatross 12. This is 22.
Are you receiving me? Over.

Albatross 12. This is 22.

See you later, matey!

(Sports commentary on radio)

(Sniffs)

Don't know why I even bother.

Bother to do what?

Wash these bloody things.
Why?

You only wash them
to get rid of the stink,

and 10 minutes later
they smell just as rotten.

Sure it's not you?

If it's me then you've caught
whatever it is, too.

You smell like a shithouse
in a heatwave.

Charming.

There's not much we can do
about it, mate.

I wonder if we'll stink when we leave.

Probably.

(Sighs)

You reckon we're doing any good
by being here?

Not much.
Why not?

Because when we get home

we'll be an embarrassment
to our great nation.

The only bastards who'll want
to know are the silly buggers.

We've got no-one else.

Do you mean the attitude
would have changed about the war?

Yeah, and the fact that we won't win it.

We may have held the fort for a
while,but the commos will get this place.

It just stands to reason.
What about the people at home?

I suppose it will be like it's been
after every war.

Well, how's that?

A few bods will pat you on the back

and say how great you were -
that'll last about a week -

then nobody will want to hear about it.

Why will they treat us like that?

Five will get you 10?

They'll make a big deal out of it,
probably make it an election issue,

and you can bet that within five
years every one of us wearing a uniform

from the Chief of the General Staff downwards

will have been sold out by some bloody...

...sticky-fingered politician.

Well, what are we doing here, then?

You're a soldier,
the same as every other silly prick

in this never-come-down land.

And that's why you're here -
because there's no-one else.

And everyone's gotta be somewhere...

...and you're here.

So get used to it.

(HELICOPTER WHIRRS
OVERHEAD )

(RADIO PLAYS)

I thought you might like to know

the wharfies back home
are refusing to load our ships.

That's nice of them, isn't it?

I suppose they reckon
they're doing the right thing.

Well, it is a democracy.

What is?
Australia.

Yes, if you've got enough money it is.

What's money got to do with it?

"What's money got...?"

OK, stupid, take a look around the unit,
or better still, the Task Force.

How many silver-spoon types
do you see here?

None that I know of.
Even the officers are pretty poor.

Right, and you won't see
too many, either.

It's the shit shoveller
with the arse out of his pants

and two bob in his pocket
that makes Australia.

Every time trouble starts,

there he is standing at the recruiting
office with his hand out for a rifle

while the rich boys
are at home hanging on,

waiting for a commission or their fathers
to get them into a safe job.

And while you're stuck overseas
with some bastards from the other side,

who are just as scared
as you are, shooting at you,

the rich boys are at home,

probably having a bit of a slum
and a chop at your bird.

Sorry. I didn't mean it.

What? Oh, forget it.

(CLANGING )

Mess time, you blokes. You gonna eat?

May as well. Nothing else to do.

You might have something there.

We wanna see Lance Corporal Rogers.

Bed 14.

Thanks, Sister.
Thanks a lot.

Thanks.

Two, four. Where's three?

The odd ones are there.
How you going, Jock?

10, 12. There he is, 14.

G'day.

G'day, mate.
How are ya?

Hey, you're looking great.
How you going?

Hey, we brought you
a couple of little presents, there, mate.

Stick them in here.
A couple on this side.

He's being fed vodka through the nose.

(All laugh)

With tomato juice.
Got a bloody mary up there.

(All laugh)

OK, mate, don't make him laugh.

What is it? What do you want?

It's a sheet.
It's a St George.

What? What is it?

You want to write something?
He's gonna write something.

B-A-L-L...

...balls.

He wants to know
if his balls are still there.

Well, have a look.
Come on.

You're the skipper. Have a look.

I can see one.
He's got one.

Yep, both there.
(All cheer)

You'll have to go now, thanks.

Oh, that was a bit quick.

We don't want him tiring.

Sorry.
Alright. Fair enough.

See you, mate.
See you later, mate.

(All farewell Rogers)

How is he?
He's pretty good, considering.

They'll make him good as new.
Oooh.

Good as new, eh?

What's a foot or two between mates?

24 inches.

Something like that.

(HELICOPTERS APPROACH)

Jesus.

Come and have a look at this.

Bung. Bill.

What the...?

(ROTORS ROAR)

(Whistles)

Someone's had their arse kicked.

Men, ready to move in 15 minutes!

Platoon commanders, five minutes.

Each platoon ready
with 500 rounds. Move it!

Come on, soldier.
(Shouts orders indistinctly)

Get a move on!
What's up?

North Vietnamese have taken Ba Ria.

Shit. That means us.
Right, so move!

Here we go again.

Hope it's over when we arrive.

I don't feel like playing this game today.

HARRY: Come on,
you fearless sons of Anzacs.

There's a whole big war
out there just waiting for you.

What would you like, Bungo?

Dozen beers and a turkey sandwich.

Maybe rat pie and river water.

Oh, make it two Dan Lees 5.56
and two white spots.

Get on with it!

Don't interrupt me while I'm shopping!

Pleasure. Do come again.

Thank you.
On the slate?

Bill to Ho Chi Minh.
What would you like?

Plane ticket home.

Jesus, this is very bloody hairy.
You could get your arse blown off easily.

(EXPLOSIONS RESOUND)

(SILENCE)

Looks safe enough.

(Clicks tongue)

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

Arggh! Arggh!

Shit!

For Christ's sake, Harry, get back.
They've got an RPD.

You heard what the boss said. Get out!

I didn't hear a word he said.

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(Man screams)

One for Bung!

Finish him off.
No, let him burn.

Clear!

Come on, 21, move!

Want a smoke?

Yeah, why not?

Sir.

Yeah?

Sun Ray, sir. We're ordered back.
Trucks are on the way.

OK. Acknowledge.

Hey.

(Mutters softly)

Sir.
What?

Sun Ray's congratulations
on taking the bridge.

(Sighs) My compliments to Sun Ray.

Inform him we're moving back now.

Snoopy 22 to Sun Ray.
Compliments from the 21.

Way to go, Harry.

Makes you wonder, doesn't it?

A whole morning's work...for nothing.

( 'WHO CARES, ANYWAY?'
BY NORMIE ROWE PLAYS)

♪ Who cares, anyway?

♪ And who am I to ever say?

♪ If it's right or if it's wrong

♪ It's easier to go along

♪ Knowing what I do today is lost... ♪

Are you fellas awake?
Yeah.

Yeah.
You're going home.

What?
You're going home.

Who?
You!

Just me?
No, both of you.

How soon can you be ready?
Soon as you like, sir.

Right. Well, there's a flight
to Saigon in 50 minutes.

Be on it. Hand in your weapons
as soon as possible.

Thank you, sir.

I don't believe it. I don't believe it!

Whoo!
We're going! We're going!

♪ ..in the past

♪ Good or bad, you know

♪ It can't last

♪ It can't last... ♪

There's no pullover there, officer.

When I get home I'll knit you one.

(All laugh)

See ya, Ron.
See ya. Look after yourself.

Have a good trip, you bastards.

♪ Black or white or shades of grey

♪ Some we win and some we lose... ♪

Hey, Cookie.
Yeah?

Get fucked!

Same to you, mate.
Look after yourself.

You, too, Harry. Take care.
Good on you, Cookie.

I hope your baits catch someone.

They will. Don't worry.
Thanks, mate.

See you later.

♪ It's all moving on

♪ Look around, soon it is gone

♪ It is gone

♪ Somewhere in the past

♪ Good or bad
You know it can't last

♪ It can't last

♪ Who cares, anyway?

♪ And who am I to ever say?

♪ If it's right or if it's wrong

♪ It's easier to go along

♪ Knowing what I do today

♪ Is lost... ♪

Thank you, sir.

♪ ..in yesterday. ♪

Uh, two beers.
Yes, sir.

Just back from Vietnam?
No.

Oh.

There we are, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Hasn't changed a bit, has it?

Seems like only yesterday.
What?

This joint?

(Sighs) So, here we are.

So, here we are.

Terrific.

Terrific.

( 'WHO CARES, ANYWAY?'
RESUMES )

♪ Now, who cares, anyway?

♪ Busy living for today

♪ Everything is here and now

♪ Everyone gets by somehow

♪ Tomorrow's drifting by

♪ Each day

♪ I'm lost

♪ In yesterday. ♪

(MILITARY MUSIC PLAYS)