Generation Kill (2008): Season 1, Episode 6 - Stay Frosty - full transcript

TOT1A mobilized and ready for remarks.

Copy, Seven Two. I copy
all. Ready for remarks.

Fuck!

Sir?

- What the fuck?
- Jesus, Eric.

I thought that haji was killing you.

I fucked his shit up good, didn't I?

You stuck him in a magazine.

Better luck next time, sir.

Damn, sir. Your hamster
must have fell off its wheel.

All Hitman Two Victors,
this is Hitman Two.



Continue digging in. We're holding
here while R.C.T. One advances. Over.

R.C.T. One is moving into Al Kut.

It's about time they
carried their weight.

Kocher is on patrol in this zone.

Do not engage on your
left beyond eleven o'clock.

Copy on all, Three Two. Godfather out.

I'm taking him to a field interrogation.

It's all good.

He's your capture.

Shit, he'd probably fuck up the report.

Mobile One One this is boom
boom. You got wind of One Five.

Roger...

- The officers are assembled.
- Let's go right away.

As of 0915 hours



forward elements of
Colonel Dowdy's regiment

seized the main bridge over
the Tigris river in Al Kut.

As you know, I just returned from
a meeting with General Mattis.

What you don't know

is that shortly after Dowdy
led his regiment into Al Kut,

General Mattis relieved
him of his command.

And gentlemen,

Colonel Dowdy was also relieved

of the ammo for his sidearm.

Colonel Dowdy was a good man,

but he did not fully embrace

maneuver warfare.

And lest we forget,

maneuver warfare

is America's warfare
for the 21st century.

It is all about the violence of action.

have just completed
the corps' longest march

since the barbary campaign
against Tripoli in 1803.

Actually, some of you are riding
in the same Humvees they used.

Through our use of maneuver,

we have tied down many times
our number of the enemy's force,

opening the door

for the army to invade the
enemy capital from the west.

Sir, does this mean it's
the end of our mission?

Unknown.

But

the First Marine Division
is positioning itself

on the outskirts of Baghdad for
the assault, and we will be there.

Rest assured,

Godfather will find a
mission for this battalion.

But what I want to leave
you with today is this:

Colonel Dowdy did succeed this morning.

He did lead his men into Al Kut.

But General Mattis

has a long memory.

He did not forget

that at critical moments

Dowdy hesitated to execute orders.

And gentlemen,

Ferrando

has a long memory too.

Gunny,

that stuff about the General's memory

and Dowdy being relieved,

was Godfather talking about us in there?

I believe he meant, sir, that if
you don't square away Nate Fick,

you'll be in his sights.

Gunny,

They did. They're happy.

These are the new ones with milkshakes.

There's strawberry,
chocolate and vanilla.

Didn't you get Hasser's report
on shooting that civilian?

We've got to take care of
this asscovering bullshit.

It'll be good for Hasser too.

He does his duty, gets
back to being a Marine.

Thanks, Mike. You're a fucking nag.

Hey, Walt.

Feel the love.

Walt,

- baby.
- Just leave me the fuck alone.

Finally, he speaks.

I liked it better when we were starving.

Then I didn't have to see
shit all over your face.

Want some?

Walt.

Finish your report
and get it to me ASAP.

You did nothing wrong.

But we're gonna see if there's
a better way to stop these cars.

Walt's got a great way, Lt.

Shoot the driver,

stop the car.

Trombley.

Sir, it's vital.

Hasser will write his way clear,

but we're fast becoming
an army of occupation.

We can't just shoot these
civilians like we're doing.

Marines aren't cops, Brad.
We're an aggressive force.

That said, we'll see what we can do.

Hey, fuck it, Walt.

These haji motherfuckers
are trying to kill us.

I'm for lighting up every
motherfucker that comes within 100 m.

Damn, man.

Didn't we kick their asses already?

This is really interesting{, Brad}.

You know, Iraqis don't
really seem good at fighting,

but then they never really
completely surrender either.

Put down that fucking milkshake
and dig a fucking hole.

Why, so I can be more
like the teacher's pet?

Yeah, that's exactly it.

- You should be more like Trombley.
- More like Trombley?

More like Trombley?!

- Whopper Jr.
- Give me the hook.

Whopper Jr.

Walt.

Anybody find that extra
pin from the gypsy rack?

No, we still missing that?

That thing's gonna fucking fall off
and we're gonna lose all our water cans.

Maybe take an extra off
and shove those down.

Brunmeier, drink the fucking water.

- How are they doing?
- Ass to mouth disease.

Half the guys got the shits.

- Both right now?
- Yeah, take 'em.

It's a good thing this is over.

Fuck!

For us, anyway.

Manimal just dropped a case of grenades.

See? That's why we
can't have nice things.

Fucking hick.

- You wanted to see me, sir?
- Nate, did you hear?

General Mattis shitcanned Colonel Dowdy.

He took the ammo from
his sidearm, lieutenant.

Colonel wasn't a team player.

Godfather said we should
all play on the team.

If it can happen to a full bird Colonel,

it can happen to anyone.

{Nate, }So you know, there will be
no more questioning of my orders.

Respectfully, sir, I've only
tried to interpret your intent

to the best of my ability.

Captain, sir.

Here comes the warrior on our team.

Outstanding work last night
taking down that E.P.W.

- Just doing my job.
- Looks like he put up quite a fight.

A fight like that tells me the
company took in a highvalue asset.

He did not want to surrender.

You have the afteraction report?

Sergeant Kocher is bringing it.

While your platoon has been busy
shooting civilians at roadblocks

Bravo Three was taking
in live prisoners.

I heard.

Good work, Dave.

{Man, I'm hungry. }Anybody
got any chow over there?

{Yeah, I got some. }What do you want?

I'll take anything I
can get at this point.

Tell Victor Three to get on
the road, we got C.A.O. checks.

This'll be handy if we write your
platoon up for a commendation.

Sergeant,

your E.P.W. put up quite a struggle.

It's a good thing your C.O. was there.

If you want to believe what
was the reason for this meeting?

Right.

Battalion says we're moving on.

That's ASAP, Lieutenant.

- Lieutenant, I was about to...
- Yeah, but no.

Not the right time.

Trombley,

why were they calling you Whopper Jr.?

They were calling me that?

Ray...

Why were they calling him that?

- Brad, we got foot mobiles.
- Hitman Two, this is Two One.

We've got a bunch of foot
mobiles at 11 o'clock.

Interrogative: do they have weapons?

- Hostile intent?
- They got naked intent.

Be advised,

there's a minivan pulling off the road.

Roger.

- Be vigilant, over. -
Trombley, range the Mark-19.

Bad guys could be in that van.

Stand by, Hitman Two.

Roger, standing by.

Walt, watch your fucking sector.

{Man, }It looks like we
caught these guys in the act,

trying to change their uniforms.

Two Actual, we ought
to halt the convoy here.

Roger that, Two One.

They say they were robbed.

Lying motherfuckers.

Tell us where you hid your uniforms.

Your documents.

They say there were
robbed by the soldiers.

They stole their clothes and
siphoned the gas from the car.

Lieutenant Fick, sir!

Over here!

{Hey, }Be careful of
the one on the right!

He's got a horse cock like Manimal's.
You don't want to get that thing angry.

Sir, we have three Arab males

naked.

It appears they've been
shot execution style.

H.M.C. Bryan investigating the
cause of death has determined

all three have been killed

with gunshot wounds to
the back of the head.

Good work, Rudy.

- Team Two at your service, sir.
- Team leader of the year, Rudy Reyes.

This ain't our work.

Dudes are telling the truth.

He says they are farmers.
One family brothers.

I don't think he's lying.

Command Two, this is Two One Bravo.

I've got an{ motherfucking}
english speaking haji

in this minivan waving
around his wife beater.

Says they got jacked
by some Iraqi soldiers.

Americans, you win
battle, beat Saddam's army.

Now his army beat us. What you do?

They rob us.

What do you do?

Listen,

this is something
you're gonna have to...

You have to take it up with the U.N.

Okay?

Just

stay back from the road.

And you don't have to wave your
T-shirts around anymore, all right?

Here.

Found a haji helmet.

Fits good.

How do I look?

Like a target.

It's better than nothing.

What we did, running and
gunning through those towns,

the good stuff and the bad
was all part of the plan.

Of all the Marines in the 1st
division, the General selected us

to be the instrument
of long range strategy.

We led the feint to Al Kut.

We tied down two Iraqi divisions,

saved untold numbers of U.S. soldiers.

You should be proud.

Why didn't we go into Al Kut?

Gabe, the General's plan
wasn't about taking the city.

It was about making the Iraqis
think we were gonna take it.

To be clear,

the Commander's intent
was never to take it.

The focus has always been Baghdad.

This sucks, man.

We did all this shit
because we took a wrong turn?

- Gabe, that's not what I'm saying.
- {What, }You got something better to do?

What the fuck is in your hand?

It's my new helmet, sir.

It's a haji gear I painted Marine camo.

I lost my kevlar in the run
to the airfield, remember?

Sergeant Major Sixta made
me ditch the bike helmet.

Brad?

How's your teams combat effectiveness?

Well, we got Person's allergies,

but none of my teams got the shits.

Leon and Lilley both have it, but

they're still doing their job, sir.

Team Two is out.

Three is almost as bad.

Looks like we'll be nursing this
platoon all the way into Baghdad.

My money is we won't be
in the assault to Baghdad.

You don't use Humvees to
attack an urban center.

You don't use Humvees to strong
point a city either, but we did.

Maybe they'll hook us up, sir,

let us guard some of Saddam's
money in one of those palaces.

I don't know.

I just hope we get to fuck up
some more shit before the war ends.

They need to send our asses to Baghdad.

Reyes, how many guys
are sick on your team?

I have three men down, warrior healer.

That makes 14 in the platoon.

Are you throwing up?

Wake up, Budweiser.

Brunmeier, come on. Wake the fuck up.

I got the shits, doc.

- I can't.
- Drink some water, you fucking asshole.

What's this about a T72 tank
on his side of the perimeter?

- It's fucking blown, Gunny.
- Reyes.

Aye, Gunnery Sergeant.

What kind of {pisspoor
}team leader are you,

not checking out an enemy
tank on your perimeter?

Roger that, Gunny.

Being I'm the only man on my
team not down with the shits

I will take out a patrol.

No, you put the hammer to
your team. Like Godfather says,

malingering spreads like a yeast
infection unless you nip it in the bud.

These men can't walk.

Has our Lieutenant approved this order?

He has.

If the men are ill, then you
should go with them, corpsman.

I love this guy.

And you'd better watch it, doc.

Team Three will take it.

Your men are sicker.

Doesn't even have a turret.

Fucking cocksucker sends
us into a fucking swamp

to check this weak shit out.

What the hell was that?

I shit my pants.

How are you showing yourself
as team leader tonight?

Tonight?

Rudy.

- Yes, sir.
- Where the hell is Lovell's team?

They're out there.

- They're inspecting the T72.
- A tank? Where?

In the swamp.

They blown out one.

Gunnery Sergeant Griego
informed us that you...

They're covering your ass, Nate.

What the fuck is going on here?

How would it look if
that tank was operational?

I'll tell you what it
looks like right now.

It resembles an incompetent
moron climbing up the asshole

of his company commander by
inventing a bullshit mission.

Did you seek my authority before
tasking my platoon with this?

I did.

I woke you 40 mikes
ago to affirm the order.

You woke me?

I hadn't been to sleep in 36 hours.

I have no recollection
whatsoever of you waking me.

I thought I was dreaming.

Get the fuck out of here.

And do not ever again
mess with my platoon.

I was just trying to cover you.

You know you're suspect with battalion.

Fuck that.

You can fuck with me
all you want but do not,

I repeat, do not fuck with my men.

I'm putting it down, Gunny.

You picking it up?

Stiney, that's my front
yard you just puked on there.

Sorry.

Clumps of them in 10s and 20s.

They're coming from as far as I can see.

Quite a party you got going, Damon.

They started showing up at 00 dark 30.

The plan is for my platoon to
escort these folks through our lines

to the southern checkpoint.

Need you to let them
through in blocks of 40.

Sir, if I may ask, why not
send them back to Al Kut?

- The fighting's over there.
- These people aren't from Al Kut.

They say they're from Baghdad.

They walked over 100 miles?

Look,

we don't know who anyone is.

Could be a suicide bomber
among us, so stay frosty.

Keep your vehicles at a walking pace

and this is important keep a
good distance from these people.

Roger.

White boys on my team celebrating
the end of our war, sir.

35, 40 at a clip.

Keep the families together.

Roger.

Smith, bring them
through in groups of 35.

Keep the families together.

Slow walk them.

Stay hard.

Slow walk them. Slow walking them.

This is Hitman Actual.

Keep your eyes open. Watch their hands.

Some of them might be armed.

Kid, nice jacket.

Espera.

Espera!

Take this group.

- Salâmu 'alaykum.
- Salâmu 'alaykum.

Salâmu 'alaykum.

Keep your fucking distance from them.

Lilley, why don't you take up the rear?

Garza, come up here to the front.

All right?

- Let's roll.
- Bravo, this is Two Two.

Don't point {your }weapons at
these people, but keep your guns up.

Hitman Two Three, { his is
}Hitman Two Two. Roger, copy that.

All right, we've got the
left side on this one.

Two Two, keep an eye on that
group coming past your Humvee.

Where's my Trombley?

Get these people some water.

Not the ass water. Get the bottled.

Two Two, keep that group
tight. Keep a good pace.

Carry that, miss? I got it.

Like my nigga Tupac said,
"it's hard times, man. "

Yeah.

Make me wanna holler.

Word.

What are these?

- Sure.
- Water! Water!

Pass them around.

- Water!
- Water water, me me!

Keep moving.

Easy, easy, easy.

Thank you, soldier.

Thank you for letting me pass
on my own road in my own country.

- Excuse me, ma'am?
- Why are you Americans here?

We want to help you, ma'am.

You know, I come from Baghdad.

It is a beautiful city
and you are bombing it.

This is to make my life better?

{God damn it. }Brad, we don't
have to take this kind of guff.

I mean, we're liberating
these ungrateful bitches.

You know, this is a
very beautiful country.

And our president is very stupid.

Maybe you are here for
liberation, I don't know.

But because of oil, it
feels like war of aggression.

Ma'am, I think you got
a really good point.

No, I really do.

Really.

So much for death before dishonor.

Damn, devil dog, for a
piece of ass like that,

I'd sell your sister to Uday and Qusay.

Hitman Two Three, this is Hitman Two.

Go on. Go.

Don't give that thing to me.

Yeah, I understand. Ma'am, I understand.

Here you go.

Are you happy now?

Man, like this I grow up.

Come on.

Here you go.

Mikey, give us a hand.

It's okay. Come on.

I got you.

Here we go.

Easy, easy, easy.

- In you go.
- That's enough.

No more. Truck's full.

All right, now.

We just turned this combat
team into a hay ride.

Thanks.

Obrigado.

Got to keep them cool.

Doesn't matter what we do here.
Quarter of these babies are gonna die.

You all right, Nathan?

Yah, Gunny.

I'm good.

We're helping people.

This humanitarian stuff,

we get lost in it, we're
not combat effective.

This is our future here.

Lieutenant, sir!

Godfather's on the radio for you.
Battalion wants us Oscar Mike.

Yeah, man. On it, thanks.

Don't bravo it. Use the smoke first.

What the fuck? Shit!

His fucking head exploded!

Guarantee he ain't getting up.

At least we gave him a happy meal
before he died. No wait, check that.

Before we hit him in the head
with a fucking 40 Mike-Mike.

God damn!

How'd the fuck the hajis kill an M1A1?

Not a mobility kill.

Both tracks look okay.

Think the Marines in there got out?

If not, they died
fighting a legit enemy.

Jesus, dude. That was first marines.

They've got to be from oceanside.

Hitman Two One, this is Hitman Two.

The E.C.P. from the
division camp is in Grid

Papa Quebec 278394.

Over.

Roger,

I copy. Grid Papa Quebec

278394, over.

Hitman Two out.

Hey, those are dogs we ought to shoot.

If I felt we could spare the
ammo, I'd give you the order.

Oh, fuck, man.

Do not run that over, Ray.

Jesus.

You just can't fucking win.

Man,

they're prepping Baghdad hard.

And we're in a fucking pog camp.

It's over for us.

We won't be part of the show in Baghdad.

Yup.

This wasn't what we trained for.

I just wanted to get one

real recon mission in this war.

You know?

Putting us in these

is an affront to my warrior spirit.

I'm a hunter,

not a fucking truck driver
corralling gun platforms.

Brad, we were the fucking
first boots on the ground

in the American invasion of Mesopotamia.

And you got your men out alive.

Might be sad about not getting
your mission but for me,

I got to tell you,
I'm glad this is over.

One other thing,

no more cat holes.

This fucking pog camp we're in
has a legit slittrench latrine.

Really.

That's my recon mission then.

♪ Two on comms.

...Hitman.

Hitman Two Three, this
is Hitman Two Two...

Over.

Manimal, you're no longer allowed
to touch the handset again. Over.

I put my babies down.

Think I'm gonna get some shuteye.

I want you to know
you've done good, Tony.

You earned a lot of reputation in
the recon community as my A.T.L.

You've always had my six.

I just want you to know
I really appreciate that.

And it's been...

Do you realize

the shit that we've done here,

the people we've killed?

Back in the civilian world, dawg,

if we did this,

we would go to prison.

Poke, you're thinking
like a mexican again.

Think like a white man.

Over there, they'll be

laying on the medals for what we did.

What's with you, dawg?

I'm tweaking, bro.

Don't feel right unless I'm strapped.

I'm gonna go pull guard duty.

Sir.

Sergeant,

they're speaking pretty highly of
First Recon at division headquarters.

The General thinks
we're slaying dragons.

I'm pleased to hear that, sir.

But between you and me,

it's bullshit.

You men need another mission.

Tanks are gonna lead
the way into Baghdad,

but we want to get in the game too.

Yes, sir.

Be advised, Brad:

stay frosty.

- I got her right in front of me!
- Show me those titties!

Come on, baby! I got 15 large!
{Just }Give me one ass cheek!

- {It's }A liberated bitch.
- I'm gonna hit that shit.

{You must be }Wearing your desert
goggles. That ain't nothing but a

piece of nappy haired Whiskey Tango.

He's right, man. You ain't
hittin' shit. W.M. like that?

No, she be wearing kevlar panties
nailed on top of a concertina wire bush.

Yeah, well, I'm gonna do a recon there.

I'm gonna make a path
for all you motherfuckers.

Shit, man, can you imagine
the stank on that cunt?

That is exactly why I'm going!

Sir, I'm gonna go down on her

like she got all of Saddam's W.M.Ds

just buried right between her legs.

- You better dig deep.
- Oh, Yeah, baby!

Hit that gas, come on!

Give it a little tap! Pat it, pat it!

It's not that bad over here.
Don't kill yourself like that.

Shit, go get it, baby.
Get some for old J.C.

- Oh, shit. Heads up.
- Oh, shit, smash!

Belays that, Devil Dog!

You's a squealin'

like a bunch of
butt-fucked Vassar bitches!

Unfuck yourselves

or we gonna suffer
the spectacle of a W.M.

with a bunch of horny Devil
Dogs trailin' their stern.

Get yourselves squared up here.

Corporal,

you're inappropriatin' your chemical
filtration device by attemptin'

fornication wit' it!

Jesus, do I have to tell you not to
desecrate your mask with perversions?

Where the fuck are your helmets?

Fuckin' Sixta.

No sooner do we stop getting shot at,

the motherfucker is out here lifing us

in his illiterate fucking retardese.

People think they have the
authority to kill the minority, man.

Fuck the police.

- Holy shit!
- What the fuck?

What the fuck? Get some!

Fuckin' Brad.

Yeah! Hell, yeah.

It don't get no better than that.

Man over all stations, be
advised: Sergeant Colbert is...

wings level.

Can somebody clear him hot?

What, did you give him some
Rolling Stone drugs or something?

No.

What the fuck did you do to him?

{Just }Asked him what he would
be if he wasn't { }Marine.

Oh my god, he wants to be a ballerina?

That's my fuckin' dream.

What the fuck?

You fucking rock.

Better now.

Ray, I want you to gather the team.

All right.

Drop your pots, gents.

Sergeant Colbert's giving you a pass.

There's something I've
been keeping from you.

I wasn't sure we were gonna
live to share this moment.

Fuck yeah!

- Chef Boyardee, the master!
- To celebrate.

- Here, hurry up!
- Trombley, get a fire going.

Walt, here.

You deceiving, conniving,

hebrew motherfucker.

How were you gonna keep this
from your dearest pal Rayray?

I got one more secret to share.

- Juggs!
- No no! Wait! Not yet.

I need some I need some
time with this alone.

- Come on. Just give me one.
- Just calm down.

You'll get your sloppy
seconds with Jasmine.

You gotta share with Trombley.

What? He'll kill her!

Eat, fuck, kill all the same, right?

Yeah! All the same if
you're a fucking psycho.

- I'm telling you, I fear for Jasmine.
- Speaking of which,

one of you guys still has
my girlfriend's picture.

Dude,

I hate to tell you this, but your
girlfriend's is a kind of a whore.

What?

Yeah, last time I saw her, she
was doing all of H&S company.

She doesn't deserve you, man.

Brah, civilian food
gives me the munchies!

- Lilley.
- Thanks, Brad.

Arbe are faroni?

What's your problem?

Last time the white man
gave my people something,

it was blankets laced with typhoid.

Poke, can't we all just...

get along?

Whopper Jr.,

you got any tabasco to go with this?

Okay, there it is.

You did just call him Whopper Jr.

Now what the hell is that about?

We call our man Whopper Jr.
because they're sold at Burger King.

Burger King.

Right. B.K.

"Baby killer. "

Trombley's our little Whopper Jr.
ever since he shot those shepherds.

Damn, Brad, what else you
got hidden in the Humvee?

A fat chick?

Shoot some civilians,

you get a reputation. Right?

Walt.

He didn't mean that.

Walt.

You're a fuckin' messed up
hick. You can't even eat ravioli.

I'm eating ravioli.

Look at him!

Gents, the final battle against
Saddam's military began this morning

when R.C.T-5 crossed the Diyala river.

The final assault of
Baghdad is under way.

Now,

some of you may have surmised

that this is not a game
for marines in open Humvees,

that while this great
battle is being fought,

you'd be sitting in a
field holding your dicks.

Or if you're in h&s
company, holding our dicks.

This is a problem that's been
gnawing at Godfather since Al Kut.

And the solution was right
in front of me the whole time.

Gentlemen,

the northern flank.

Above Baghdad, we assume

a significant Republican guard presence,

especially since it's this region that's
the home to the Sunnis and Ba'athists.

Now it turns out this had been
weighing on the C.G.'s mind

when I went to meet with him last night.

Chaos has committed all three regiments
to the assault from the east here.

There's a town called Baqubah

about 50 kliks north of the city

where an iraqi mechanized
Republican guard division

is unaccounted for.

Okay? Now this leaves
Chaos's northern flank

as tender as the virgin's thigh.

Until I met with him,

the C.G. thought his only option was
to peel off a mechanized battalion.

As a good officer should,

I gave him another option.

Gentlemen, we are going to Baqubah.

Expect morning orders within 30 mikes.

Sir, there's a situation.

Despite our best efforts, they
came up on our comms this morning.

They know where we are and they're
less than two kliks from our perimeter.

Sir, we could give them
a tangential mission,

maybe task them with guarding H&S?

Major, we can't unfuck this one.

Gentlemen, one other thing:

Delta company will be with us.

The reservists have arrived.

All right, that's it.

Lt, what's the date today?

Copy that, Two Two. Solid copy.

Yo, Dirty,

you got a donkey dick?

Radiator?

Yeah, wait a minute, Ray.

What the fuck are you doing?

Writing in my journal.

About all this shit?

What, about you're
singlehandedly winning this war?

That's the type of shit that
Cody puts in his little diary.

Look, if they say we
fought valiantly here,

I want 'em to know we fought retarded.

Yeah, 'cause going into towns,

storming an airfield
with no observation.

{Come on, Ray}. I work for Captain
America. You got fick at least.

I've been telling you, Eric,
it don't have to be that way.

One bullet in the head, our
whole platoon is squared away.

Just stow that fuckin' shit.

You had your chances like everybody else
and you haven't done it, so fuck you{, man}.

Here comes dumbass.

Well, guys, it's been groovy.

Good work, men.

Yes, sir.

Good.

Good work.

Each man sees things
differently in combat.

Right now at any time, we could die.

It's almost enough to
make you lose your sanity.

To remain calm and stay in a
place where you think you will die,

that too is the definition of insane.

Nate, you have to become insane

to survive in combat.

Yeah.

This is how it comes down to us.

We're on point for the battalion,

but first we're linking up with war pig.

We're gonna be rolling with
some real ass the fuckin' L.A.Vs.

And good newsbad news,{ Ray}.

They're giving us the L.A.Vs {ut that's
}because they're sending us north of Baghdad,

where all Saddam's people are from.

And they don't love us up
there like they do down south.

- So fuck 'em where they live.
- Damn right.

We'll be surrounded by
friendlies until here...

the magic line.

No american unit has
gone past this line.

A couple tried yesterday
and got ambushed.

This...

is badguy country.

All I right, gents, we got 30 mikes.

Somebody's got to win this.

What the fuck are you all moto about?

Jumpin' jehoshaphat.

Are we that desperate for cannon fodder
that they're clearing out the sick,

- the lame, the crazy?
- Look at you boys?

At what's up with these guys?

- What's up, Dawg?
- Look at these guys.

- How the fuck did you find us?
- I came up

with Delta.

Shit, the fuckin' reservists, dude?

Brad, you're not gonna believe it.
It has been madness since day one.

What happened to your cushy
liaison gig at Al Jabar?

Yeah, rockin' the fucking side
pipe with them air force hotties.

Fuck that, I ain't had a war
since Somalia I had to get some.

But I seriously would not have jumped
ship if it meant rolling with Delta.

{- I understand
him. - }What?

- Clusterfuck?
- They're off the hook.

Dude, they don't got any gear or food.

They were pulling
escort duty just to eat.

And then they got to rollin' into
these hamlets and doing these shows

of force you know, cowboy shit for
fun. Like this one time, I swear to god,

they thought it'd be funny to give
these little kids, like, porn mags

like Hustler and Maxim and shit,

show the little hajis
what we're fighting for.

This old Iraqi comes storming out,

starts screaming at our interpreter
about how we're fucking up their morals

or some dumb shit, right?

And he's super fucking pissed.
The old man's got an R.P.G.

What?

Delta fuckin' freaks. They
lob like 26 mark-19 rounds.

They fuck up the whole hamlet.

- Fuck. -
Bull-fucking-shit.

Ollie North filmed the
whole fucking thing.

{
- What?}The Oliver North?

Oliver fuckin' North was standing
there with a camera crew from Fox

filming the whole {uckin' }thing like it
was the turning point in the fucking war.

These delta fucks are like L.A.P.D. cops

and D.E.A. agents and
fucking air marshals.

You know what I mean?

And they're led by this Napoleon
douche who is like a Corporal

or some shit in Albuquerque
P.D. I swear to god,

this motherfucker has got cattle horns

- on his Humvee.
- This is so colossally retarded,

- I can't even say anything about it.
- Godfather knows.

He's been ducking us on the
comms for the past couple weeks.

But they're here now, brad,

and they're rolling with you.

No fuckin' way. We're
working with reservists?

That's some bullshit.

Look at this motherfucker.

Check it out. If I'm lying, I'm dying.

That's a real marine.

Fick!

We're out of our M.O.P.P.S.

- Right now.
- Yes, sir.

You can actually see
it rolling downhill.

Yep,

here it comes.

Change in S.O.P.

Out of our M.O.P.P. suits. You've 5 min
to get right, then we're red-con one.

- We're back in cammies!
- So fresh and so clean.

Fuck, I don't have bootpants.

My balls smell like Jack's mouth.

How do you know what
his mouth smells like?

'cause my balls were in it.

What the fuck do they
do over there, man?

No, really, if we're not
in our M.O.P.P. suits,

that means there's no W.M.Ds

If there's no W.M.D.S, then why
are we here in the first place?

I knew you were a
fucking gay-ass liberal.

You tried to pretend by invading
iraq with us, but I knew.

I'm serious, Ray. Isn't that
the whole point of us being here?

The point is we get to
kill people, you dumb fuck.

What's the difference anyway, man?

I mean,

the war's almost over.

We're just about done with this bitch.

Shit, man, they're taking everything.

Yeah,

they're pretty much
liberated around here.

Ray, stay focused.

- We have a mission.
- Yeah, some mission...

"cross the magic line. "

What the fuck can that be all about?

That's us. War pig, then recon.

The line is on 34 northern.

On the other side? The Iraqis.

And they're mechanized.

Focus, Ray.

Focus.

Watch for mines, Ray.

Remember, this is bad-guy country.

Reporter, do you know
what you're supposed to do

if the Humvee gets hit by a mine?
You're supposed to curl up like a bitch.

- Trombley, make nice.
- You know how to curl up like a bitch,

don't you, reporter?

What is believed to bethe final
assault on the city's defenders.

And now for cricket...

BBC says they're puttin'
whoop-ass on Baghdad.

And we're out here
in the fucking sticks.

Man, turn that shit off.

...disappointing results, "but," he
said, "there's always a next time. "

We're out here under the radar
where nobody knows we're here.

Hopefully,

it'll fuckin' stay that way.

Once more into the great good night.

"Cry havoc

"and let slip the dogs of war. "

Man,

when I get home, I am gonna eat the
fuck out of my girlfriend's pussy.

Is that Shakespeare?

Shakespeare wrote that?

About his girlfriend's pussy?

Godfather, Godfather.

I take it the L.A.Vs in front
of us just crossedthe magic line.

The L.A.Vs report enemy contact
on both sides of the road.

Rockets, mortars and machine guns.

Hitman, Hitman, small arms fire to
our three o'clock, 2-5-0 meters out.

I have no targets.

No targets.

Walt, what are you shooting at?

I got muzzle flashes behind those walls.

Hold on, buddy! That's a
fuckin'village over there.

- I see fuckin' fire coming in.
- Not from the houses!

There are people in
that village{, Walt}.

- All Hitman Two...
- They ain't shooting at us.

...one-six north on route green. Break.

They've made contact with
a squad-sized force. Over.

Roger.

- {Ray, }Halt the vehicle.
- All right.

L.A.Vs have stopped.

Enemy! Enemy, both sides! Break!

My God. Is he crying?

No, he's not.

He's just nervous.

We're gonna die if they
don't get us out of here!

They sent us to die!

Okay, fuck it. He's crying.

All Hitman Victors, this is Hitman Two.

Be advised, the L.A.Vs are
egressing to the south. Break.

We{'re} pull{ing} back into a defensive
position and dropping mortars. Over.

{Yeah, }That's a solid copy.

Trombley, the L.A.Vs will
be coming up on our left.

Do not engage.

If you do, they'll schwack us.

Jesus Christ.

Tracers skipping around us.

That's our own guys, shooting
down the axis of our convoy.

All Hitman Two Victors,
hold your fire...

Fucking reservists.

Hold, Delta. Over.

Is that the reservists
firing on the ville?

- Walt!
- It's Delta.

They're laying down
F.P.F. on the village.

- It's all fucked up.
- Get those guys on the net.

Man, they got passed down.
We have no comms with Delta.

I don't know, maybe the fucking
retards will just run out of ammo.

God damn, this is gonna be a long night.

This is Assassin One. We are set.

Assassin One, this is Assassin Two...

Assassin One Two, this
is Assassin One Three,

we have local enemy entrenched
400 meters to the north. Break.

Possible enemy mortar position.

- North 1,000 meters. Interrogative.
- Stay in line!

Are you in the position to
observe and persecute the target?

Assassin One Three,
this is Assassin One Two.

We are static.

Stand by while I roll
the Godfather back.

Assassin One Two out. Break break.

They all got blankets on to
hide their heat signatures,

right, Sergeant Colbert?

A week ago, they didn't know we
could see their thermals at night.

Now they're adapting.

Didn't work for that guy.

- Get down!
- No!

Cease fire!

Cease fucking fire, Sergeant!

Sergeant!

- Cease fire, motherfucker!
- Cease fire!

Cease fire now!

Cease fucking fire!

Sergeant! What the fuck?

My staff Sergeant told
me to engage all movement.

What are you doing?
You dumb motherfucker,

you realize you're shooting at Marines?

I saw an Iraqi helmet.

I got this, Corporal.

Fuck.

Two Actual, this is Two One.

Who the fuck is shooting at us?

Fuckin' L.A.P.D. cops from Delta!

They fucking love shooting Mexicans.

It was Alpha, Gabe.

Alpha.

Mistakes happen.

Two One Actual, what's your status?

Everyone likes to shoot
Mexicans, even Mexicans.

Hitman Two, this is Two One.

This is accurate mortar fire.
Request permission to egress.

Negative. Our orders
are to hold our position.

We're blocking for Alpha. Over.

- There's a fuckin' braindead idea.
- That's a hold.

We're covering Alpha's assault.

Brad.

Check out the retard
cas-evacing lamb chops.

Man, that's fucking intense
when you think about it, homes.

{I mean, }Here's this poor
farmer who's out there...

{Ray, }Shut the fuck up.

Fucking fish in a barrel.

Same motherfuckers who
tried to smoke your ass.

...the most dramatic
pictures are showing

American Marines in Baghdad city center

pulling down a giant
statue of Saddam Hussein.

Fighting seems to have come to an end...

- Turn that shit off.
- All right, fine.

Apparently, these motherfuckers
up here don't listen to the BBC.

No talking, no radio. Jeez, Brad.

Grab the mag.

- How about this guy over here?
- No, man, over here, J.J.

- Bobby, use my camera too, man.
- Damn!

- Fucking reservists, man.
- Just take the fucking photo.

Be careful, Dan. R.P.G. could be mined.

Don't pick shit up till you check it.

Copy that.

- Get up. Get the fuck up.
- No no no.

- Come on.
- Okay.

- Okay, okay.
- Now.

Got you covered, Eric.

Hands.

Come on.

Hands.

Thank you.

You saved our asses. {This is }It's
the 1st real fighting we've seen.

- You move and I'll blow your {ucking }head off.
- I have a family!

We ought to cut his throat like
in the Chechen soldier video?

Captain, sir... sir, what are you...

Sir. Intimidation tactic.

Sir, we got this
situation under control.

- Fuck! Fuck!
- Bombs!

We got a live one, men!

Cover him, Redman.

You motherfuckers.

I'm sorry I shook your hand.
You abused that prisoner.

Bravo Two, stay on line.

- Hold your fire.
- No Saddam.

Come.

Looks like you won some
hearts and minds, sir.

And some tongue.

Check it out! We got their colors!

Yeah!

I love killing people!

- Please, I'm a very low soldier.
- Fuck that.

You were waiting to kill us.

You didn't put your weapon down.

I'm afraid if we put our weapons
down, the police will come and beat us.

Everybody under Saddam is silent.

If he say we go to war with
America, we say "good. "

If he say we don't go to war
with America, we say "good. "

Shit yeah.

- We can't drop our weapons either.
- We got orders.

- Next stop is Baghdad.
- Sweet, man.

I don't want any war crimes in the
back of my truck. Untie his hands.

Give him some water.

You letting me go?

How can I go home?

My sergeant, he sees me,

- he find out I didn't fight.
- Negro, ain't no Saddam.

Know what I mean? Ain't no Iraqi army.

You ain't got a sergeant no more.

Either we killed his ass already or
shit he be running away faster than you.

Feelin' me?

You're going to Baghdad, my friend.

We got a prisoner
collection center there.

Baghdad?

For free?

I'm so happy. Thank you,
thank you. I'm so happy.

It's all good, playboy.

Thank you, thank you very
much. Thank you, thank you.

Contact, two kliks!

What the fuck, man?

Don't these fucking guys know
that we won the war already?

We got ambushed all the way up here.

There still could be some
bad guys who want to play.

God damn it, Ray.

No country music.

Okay?

Dude,

it's not a country
song, it's a cowboy song.

I hate to break it to you, Ray,

but there are no cowboys.

I don't give a fuckwhat you write.

It's gonna come out all liberal
media bullshit spin on it anyway.

Seriously, what am I supposed to do

with all this bullshit
you guys constantly talk?

You think I'm some sort
of racist psycho redneck?

What, you ain't?

And you ain't some fucking
militant taco-bender revolutionary?

See, reporter? No outsider can
understand how we really are.

We're all fucking brothers.

- And we're all fucking alpha males{, too}.
- We{'ve} gotta constantly test each other.

All we do is fight for
position in the pack, dawg.

All that training we do, the
martial arts, to grappling...

is for practice, but it's also for real,

to achieve dominance
over a motherfucker.

We do the same thing mentally.

It's prison rules, dawg.

We probe for any fucking
weakness we can find...

family, race, brains, looks...

anything you have on a motherfucker,
you wear it the fuck out.

Being a Marine isn't
about words, anyways.

It's about your fucking actions.

{Back home }In the civilian world, a fool
slaps a "protect the planet" sticker on his car,

suddenly he's all about
the environment and shit.

Don't matter that he {still
}drives that fucking car,

fires up his computer and video games

and cell phone every
night with electricity made

from nuclear power, coal and
fucking melted baby seal oil.

"nuh-uh, I got a dolphin
sticker on my shit,

"so I'm all about saving
the fucking planet. "

In our fucking Marine corps civilization

it don't matter what
a motherfucker says.

Only thing that matters is, dawg,

when you charge that
motherfucking machinegun

when the motherfucker tells you to
charge the motherfucking machinegun.

Shit, everybody in this
platoon is a hard charger.

Marines bitch about everything,
man... chow, fucking moron officers,

no time for a combat jack...

But you will never hear a Marine in this
platoon bitch that we could die at any second.

- Hell no.
- That's what we signed up for.

Hoorah that, motherfucker.

Fucking care if some latte-sipping
bisexual college student

reading about Justin
Timberlake in "Rolling Stone"

thinks I'm a psycho
racist cracker? Fuck no.

I'd give my life for
any brother in here.

I know any one of them
would do the same for me.

You think it matters if
I call fucking T a nigger?

Fucking love that big dark green marine
and his big old beautiful nigger dick.

Love all my dirty spic brothers here.

And I love this fucking cracker-ass
inbred racist peckerwood fuck.

I don't know why I do, dawg, but I do.

'cause I'm pretty and I shave my balls.

Want to touch 'em, reporter?

No. Thanks.

Look, man, I joined the Marine corps
10 days after I graduated high school.

I went to school with all these
rich kids at St. Tammany's parish,

but I was an apartment kid.

My mom worked. I worked summers
digging footings on the weekends.

I was a dishwasher at
D'Angelo's pizzeria.

I busted my ass.

Became a recon Marine since I was 19.

My shit is tight as fuck.

I know that, my brothers
in this platoon know that,

so fuck all of you.

Damn, war scribe, you just
spit on my fucking rack, dawg.

- Where?
- There.

You see that pile of dried camel dung?

That's my fucking pillow, dawg.
You fucking spit on it, fool.

You're a heinous-asswhite boy.

I'm sorry.