All language subtitles for Cigarette.Soup.2017.HDRip.XviD.AC3-EVO-eng

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Oh, hey there, buddy.

Hey, what's going on?

What are you up to?

That's your question?

You a big-time reporter man,
that's what you come up with?

All right, fine.
How many drinks have you had?

What are you,
like six deep right now?

Too many.

Where's your imaginary
girlfriend?

-Oh, ah-ha-ha ha-ha.
-What's her name, Sarah?

Give me that thing.

Ah ha! Now the tables
have turned.

It's my turn
to make you squirm.

How about you start
by telling us a little bit
about yourself?

I hate you.

Uh, what do you wanna know?

My name is Sam Grady.
I'm from Greenville, Ohio,

population closing in
on 15,000.

Uh... I'm a reporter
for our local news station,
channel one.

-There, you happy?
-Why are we all here?

Well, I think you're here
to wish me luck,

send me off in style.
At least I hope so.

Oh, where are you going?

I recently volunteered
to document the war
in Afghanistan.

I've been assigned
to a specific army unit,

and I'm gonna be following
those guys around

for the next few months.

-That's a brave thing
you're doing.
-Thanks.

Why are you doing that?

It's something
that needs to be done.

And I wanna show
all of you out there

who these guys really are,

and not just
what you see on TV,
but who they are right here.

And this woman right here
put this whole shindig together

to send me off the right way.
Isn't that right?

She's the world's
greatest woman.

The most bestest mom.

-Sam, not now, okay?
-Come on, mom.

Say something
into the camera.

-I can't.
-Mom!

Come on, mom.

So here I am.

It's my third official day
in Afghanistan.

Whoo!

The weather has been
insanely hot.

Windy, but hot.
The nights have been freezing.

I've been practicing
digging my fighting hole

from when we're out
in the desert and we need
to catch some shut eye.

But I guess if we're
in the middle of combat,

not gonna be much time
for sleeping anyways.

So, right now, we're all riding
in the back of an old

piece of shit pick-up truck.

We're on our way
to a foot patrol.

It's as good
as it gets, baby.

- It's as good as it gets.
- I guess so.

So we're still on our F.O.B.

- "Fob", dude.
- Fob?

-Fob.
-Fob.

Okay, so we're still
on our fob,

driving to the end
of the wire.

We're gonna get picked up
by an mrap.

They're gonna drive us
approximately 10 miles.

From there we're gonna start
the foot patrol.

I guess, from what
they're saying,

we're gonna be out there
for about six hours.

That's gonna be well
into the night.

My very first foot patrol.

Can't wait.

This has gotta be
the coolest thing
I've ever seen.

I mean, look
at these people,
their houses--

it's amazing.
It's so different than home.

You think this is weird,
check out lennie's cock.

That thing's like a fucking
science project.

That's true.

Oh, I'm good, thanks.

Man, you call it weird,
i call it unique.

That's like telling
a fat chick she's got...

- Go fuck yourself.
- Oh!

Could you imagine being able
to actually fuck yourself?

I would just fuck myself
whenever I liked.

How would that even work?

I'd fucking stick
my dick in my own asshole.

I don't know,
shut the fuck up.

Easy boy.
You're gonna scare Geraldo up in the front seat.

Yo, Geraldo, who's dick
did you have to suck

- to ride shotgun, anyway?
- For real.

I give a pretty mean bj
to somebody riding up there,

and I've never
gotten to ride shotgun.

Oh, my god, you guys always
make gay comments.

Yeah, pretty much.

Hey, do you wanna shut
your fucking hole

back there, please?

Jesus Christ.

All right, let's take five.

All right, men,
you heard him!

Let's take five down here
in this ravine.

Eyes up, boys.

Goddamn it is windy
as fuck out here.

Goddamn it.

Hey, you might wanna keep
your fucking head down.

Keep popping up and down,
you're gonna end up

like those last two
fucking guys.

What happened to them?

Those reporters?
Taliban, bro.

Killed by
the fucking Taliban.

I saw the whole
gruesome thing.

That shit was crazy.
It was fucked up.

-Is he serious?
-Dead fucking serious, bro.

-For real.
-Hey, I'm just fucking
with you, man.

-Lighten up, jeez.
-He's not serious.

Listen, those last two guys
were a couple of pussies.

I mean, even a vagina
would have been like,

"goddamn, these guys
are pussies." Seriously.

I think a vagina
said that to them.

-I think it did.
-Like I heard it.

-Unironically.
-Yeah, it was totally
dead serious.

The pussy was like--

-you don't see that's--
-yeah, I got it.

-Hey, don't be a pussy.
-No, I know you do.

"I don't want a pussy
in my pussy."

-It's his job to harass
a reporter, all right?
-Yeah, uh-huh.

It's so hot out here,
i don't know how you guys
can think about vagina.

All I can think about
is sweating my balls off.

Yeah, no kidding,
it's hot. No doubt.

- What?
- What's going on?

What's going on?

Sorry.

Is it okay to tell me
what the mission is?

We're on area
reconnaissance patrol

checking out
this specific area,
looking at the terrain,

seeing what type
of transportation support
we might need,

equipment, weapons,
shit like that.

It's highly unlikely
we're gonna run into
any enemy out here.

It's the bullshit job
no one wants

because it's fucking boring.

It's true.

I'm having a great time.

Nonetheless, it's the job
we've been ordered to do, men,

-and we're gonna do it.
-Yeah.

It's bullshit, man,
that's all it is,

-is fucking bullshit.
-Why do you think
it's bullshit?

'Cause monti knows
he should be out fucking
killing bad guys.

-Amen.
-Amen.

'Cause, you know, anybody
can do this job right here.

My retarded little brother
could do this in his sleep.

Wait, wait.
You have a fucking
retarded brother?

That means
that your mom's pussy

is a conveyor belt
for retarded humans.

Like, it's like
a factory of mass produced
retarded humans.

The hand of god touched
my mom's vagina twice.

-What in the fuck
are you guys doing?
-Sorry, sergeant.

We are on a goddamn
mission here

and you guys
are horsing around

like a bunch
of goddamn idiots.

Are you a bunch of dumb
fucking monkeys?

Stay focused.
Do you understand?

Got it.

Jackson, you guys
hear me down there?

-Oorah!
-Oorah!

All right, one of our patrols
came under some light fire

about two kilometers
from here.

Why aren't we helping
our guys out?

We're not going anywhere.
That's a negative.

We got a young, inexperienced
journalist with us here.

We gotta keep an eye on him.

Are you kidding?

Does it look like
I'm fucking kidding you,
Montgomery?

Do you see me smiling, huh?
Am I fucking laughing?

Look at me when
I'm talking to you.

All right, listen up.

Apparently one of our guys

got a little trigger happy
back there

and he greased a civilian.

We've been over the r.O.E
a million goddamn times,

but let me reiterate,
no one is allowed

to shoot anyone
who is unarmed.

No one is allowed
to shoot anyone

unless you are
absolutely certain

without a shadow
of a goddamn doubt

that they pose
an immediate threat to us.

Got it?

Hooah.

Good.

All right, let's move out.

-Move out, guys.
-Let's line it up.

All right,
so we're now entering
hour four of patrol.

We haven't seen
a single civilian,

we haven't seen
anything at all, actually.

Guess I can understand
why these guys say

this is such
a boring mission.

At least it's not
so hot anymore though.

Just tired from carrying around
this equipment all day.

I know it's been a rough one
for you, Geraldo,

but when we get back to base,
I'm gonna give you

the fucking best hand job
you've ever had in Afghanistan.

- Oh, stop.
- Ask butch.

- He fucking felt it.
- Fuck you.

Everybody down!

-Shit.
-Anybody hit?

Montgomery, mills,
take security.

Everybody else,
on my command,

- Fan out against
that cover there!

Ready, go!

Move, move, move, move!

Geraldo, stick with me,
goddamn it.

Right here, right here
on the ground.

Right there.

What the fuck?

Montgomery, mills, fall in!

-Engage!
-Fuck!

Were you hit?

Motherfucker,
i got nothing.

-How about you?
-I don't see shit.

I got five straight across.

-Fuck with their heads!
-Watch my back!

Stay down,
that's an order.

-Fuck.
-Climb over.

Goddamn it,
Geraldo, stay down!

Say again, over!

Do you copy, over?
Goddamn it.

-Comm just broke down.
-Fuck me.

Let's find some shelter.

You take the...
Get the hell out of here.

Stay on them.
Stay on them.

I'll take the rear.
Everybody out.

Butch, you two,
get the hell outta here.

All right,
stick with me and turn
that fucking camera off.

What the hell is going on?

What does it look like
is going on?

We're under attack,
goddamn it.

Now stay close.

Come on!

-Get up! Get up!
-Butch.

Come on, move, move,
move, move!

Which way?
Which way? Which way?

Lennie?

What the fuck, butch?

Which way? Butch?

Lennie! Don't lose him!

Where the fuck
is that goddamn reporter?

Right here.

-Geraldo?
-Goddamn it.

Oh, shit.

Take a knee!

You stay right up my ass,
you got it?

Okay, status?

Alpha missing Kramer,
sergeant.

Bravo, missing Jackson,
Rodriguez.

All right, Alpha team,
let's go.

Clear your right.

Hut!

-Watch that.
-Clear!

Stack on me.
Stack on me.

-Clear!
-Clear!

We found power.

Power, lights coming on.

Coming out.
Step it up.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Is anybody hurt?

-Everybody good?
-No.

Fucking damn it.

Where the fuck
is Kramer, man?

Let's get an ammo check.

Red, sarge,
all fucking red.

Oh, fuck that.

All right, listen up.

We got a big shit
sandwich here, boys.

Those a & a shitbags,

they left our flank
wide fucking open,

so we are on our own,
understand?

We got three of our boys
still out there,

but we're gonna go
and get 'em.

Got it?

-Hooah.
-Hooah.

Nolan, Skinner!
You're coming with me

-on a stealth op.
-Hooah.

Now the rest of you,
i want you to stand fast,

and stay in the bunker.

Under no fucking circumstances
are you to leave.

You understand?

-Hooah.
-Hooah.

Perez, you're
the designated babysitter.

You make sure nothing happens
to this fucking kid,
you understand?

I understand,
i just think we should
go out there as a squad--

who the fuck told you
to think, Perez?

It's my job to do
the thinking for you

so that you don't fucking die.
You get me?

-Yes, sarge.
-You keep your mouth shut

and you do what you've been
trained to do.

Does everybody here
understand my orders?

- Hooah.
- Nobody leaves the bunker.

-Yes, sir.
-If we don't come back,

you hold the fuck out

until you are reinforced.

All right,
corporal butch, take command.

Let's move.

Later, guys.

Let's go.

All right.

Stay the fuck out of my way,
you hear me?

Crook, crook, crook!

-Guard this door.
-Crook.

You got your ears on?
Goddamn it.

All right, yeah,
let's check around,
see if there's anything

we can use
in this motherfucker.

Ain't got shit in here.

Bullshit I.E.D.'S,
we're fucking right in here.

-Geraldo?
-Yeah?

This is where you
keep your shit.

Make it cozy.
We could be here a while.

Oh, god.

So here we are somewhere.

Now I know it doesn't
say much,

but honestly,
i have no idea where
the fuck we are.

The last thing I recorded
was us making a run for it
in the desert,

and then me just
face planting in the sand.

Shit.

After my camera shut off,
we ran for about 20 minutes,

give or take,
until Nelson and I stumbled
upon this bunker.

It's clearly an enemy bunker,

which makes me wonder
why we're staying here.

I just have to hope
that the Taliban decides
not to return home.

Shit.

I'll report back later.

Over and out.

We made it through
our first official hour.

I did what I could
to make my new area

as homey as possible.

Moved my backpack
around a little bit,

put it in a few
different spots.

I think it looks pretty good
where it is now.

I hope butch approves.

-Can I interview you?
-Now is not a good time.

What else are we
gonna do down here?

All right.

Okay, start
by stating your name
and where you're from.

You know my name
and where I'm from.

My name is Luis Perez
and I'm from upstate New York.

My boys call me crook.

Why did you join the army?

Uh, good question.

Not just a good one,
such a unique one,

such an interesting angle.

Definitely never one
I've been asked before.

Come back when you have
something worth talking about.

Okay.

Why don't you tell me
why sergeant Nelson

shot you down like that?

I mean, you brought up
a good point.

Maybe we should
have all gone with him.

Good point on that.

-I spoke out of turn.
-You can't be serious.

Come on, Geraldo.

A non-ray like me
talking back to a sergeant?

-You know what
a non-ray is, don't you?
-I can kind of guess.

It's a rank so low
we're not even
considered human.

So low we're not even
worthy of a rank.

Christ man, I'm lucky
he didn't shit on me

right then and there.

You mean killing you?

No, I mean shit on me.
At least killing me would have
been respectable.

So you can't speak
your mind freely.

Oh, no, we can,
just not to authority.

It's as if we don't count,

we have no business
speaking our minds.

It's just how it is.

When I first got here...

One of my sergeants,
we'll call him captain dipshit,

was telling a joke
to a bunch of other
captain dipshits.

I thought the joke was funny,
so I laughed.

I soon found out
that if captain dipshit

tells a joke to a bunch
of other captain dipshits,

better not fucking laugh.

At least he better not
hear you laugh,

'cause god knows he wasn't
tell you that joke.

Don't get me wrong,
when I first enlisted,

I was willing to jump
on a hand grenade

for any of these boys,
and I hope they do
the same for me.

But I got news for you, dawg,
ain't nothing in your contract

when you enlist says
your bosses will respect you.

So talking back to authority?

Don't do it unless
you like being shit on.

Even when you're in war?

Especially
when you're at war.

So you said earlier that when
you first enlisted

you were willing
to jump on a hand grenade
for any of these guys.

That's right.

Sounds like you knew
what you wanted to do
for a long time.

Yeah, as long
as I can remember.

This is where I see myself
for the rest of my life.

I mean, maybe not
in a shithole bunker,

but definitely in the army
serving our country.

Does it discourage you,

being here,
defending our country,

fighting for our freedom
with your life at stake?

I mean, at most times,
you're talked down to
like a child.

Nah, it's fine.

You sure?

I said it's fine.

Look, right now
I'm more concerned

with how much food
and water we got.

I don't know how long
we're gonna be locked up
in this hell hole

and I just hope it's enough.

That's all for now.

Shit.

I got five mre's left.

That means
if I'm eating three a day,

I'm gonna be out
by tomorrow after lunch.

That can't be good.

Mason's from the south
and he talks real slow like.

The boys call him lennie
because he reminds them

of lennie from
"of mice and men."

He's not retarded
or anything,

he just has this crazy
unearthly human strength

when you push
his buttons the wrong way.

He's the only southerner I know
who listens to Janet Jackson.

Seems like you're pretty good
at cleaning that rifle.

Pretty good? I'm gonna
tell you something, boy,

before I joined the army,
the only thing I ever cleaned

was my family's chicken Coop.

There was shit
all over the place.

You never forget
something like that.

I would clean this rifle
with my tongue

every single day if I had to,

if it meant I never had
to clean up chicken shit again.

You know, that's one
of the first things
they teach you

when you join the army,

how to clean a rifle.

They make you do it over
and over and over

till you get it right.

You ever shoot a gun before?

-No, I haven't.
-Yeah, I'm gonna
remember that

when we get back
out there on the field

and I need someone
to watch my ass.

Yeah, I've been shooting guns
since I was a kid.

Shooting all kinds of stuff.

You know, my pop
bought me my first gun

when I was seven,
maybe eight years old.

It was a Christmas present

and the next two birthdays
after that.

I mean, that's
the kind of poor we was.

So let's say you have
two minutes to teach
a guy like me,

who's never touched a rifle
before in his life,

how to shoot a rifle.
What would you tell him?

What would you tell me?

You know, 50 years from now,
when I'm old and grey

and I can't wipe
my own ass no more,

I would still be able
to assemble a rifle.

Blindfolded.
But you know what?

It gets so ingrained
in your skull

that it becomes automatic.

It becomes instinct.

So how do I teach
someone like you

how to shoot a rifle
in 10 minutes?

I don't know.

How do you teach
someone to breathe?

How do you teach someone
how to sleep?

You don't. You just--
you just do it.

Do you think we all should
have gone with sergeant Nelson?

Yeah, I do.

Why do you think he ordered us
all to stay here?

People do shit
for crazy reasons sometimes.

You know, these Taliban guys
we're supposed to be fighting

take cocaine all day long

so they don't even feel it
when we shoot them.

You wanna know
something else crazy?

I joined the army
because I lost a bet.

I was 17 years old,
it was my birthday,

drinking too much,
riding around town

with a bunch of my buddies,
and I just got it in my mind

I was the baddest man
in town.

So I bet them straight out,

find me the biggest
motherfucker you can

and I will put him down.

And so they did,

and he beat the shit
outta me.

A lot of people would be mad
at him for all of that,

but every time I go back
into town when I'm on leave,

I still visit him
every time.

Looking back, you wish
you had won that fight?

You know, like I said,
we all do things

for a lot of different
crazy reasons sometimes.

It was for the best.

We've been down here
way longer than I thought
we were gonna.

At this point, I need to take
a break from the interviews.

There's a fine line between
staying on top of these guys
to get answers

and keeping your distance
so you don't piss them off.

Once that happens,
you're done.

You lost 'em forever.

Fuck.

This is some fucking bullshit.

My black dick for
your motherfucking mouth.

That's for you.
My fucking dick--

I swear to god, you hick,
if you don't give me back
my fucking pussy,

I'm gonna slit your throat
when you're sleeping.

What the hell is going on?

Monti thinks we got
a thief down here.

I know we have a fucking thief
and his name is lennie.

Man, you just got to think
of a pretty face

next time you jerk off.

You got no magazine
to look at.

You got no proof
i did nothing.

-I just saw you reading one.
-Man, that was my smut.

You read a completely different
kind of smut than I do.

You read that
Sunday school shit.

Kinda porn I read will make
your dick fall right off.

You're a fucking hick
and a liar.

Fuck you all!

Get off me, son.

All right, all right.
That's enough. Guys!

Break it up.
Break it the fuck up.

Back off.

All right, and, you,
that's enough with that.

-Relax a little bit.
-Hey, tell me this,

who was watching the door
while you three

stand around jerking
each other off, huh?

Lennie, the fuck
back on the door.

The three of you
keep your eyes open,

your mouths closed
for a change.

My shit.
It belongs to me.

It's fucking freezing.

I don't know if you
can see my breath or not,

but trust me, it's there.

It ain't no comfort inn,
I'll tell you that much.

Geraldo! Get your ass
over here.

Come on!

Hurry up, bro.

All right, now that you got
your ass over here

get into this.

Monti, crook, slide over.
Right there.

I never thought
I'd be shacking up with
a bunch of boys.

All righty then, fellas.

This is not his first time.

I swear to god,
fucking Geraldo,

you touch me and I'll rip
your fucking ass.

-You're not my type, monti.
-Oh, shit.

I don't think he meant
to say "rip your ass."

Shit.

-Now it's a party.
-Yeah.

I don't remember
a night this cold,
i can tell you that.

Southern boys ain't used
to the cold, huh?

This is what
makes you a man.

Makes you a man?

I thought I saw
your leg shaking.

Shut the fuck up.

So this is the gayest thing
I've ever seen.

Well, you're welcome to go
in the other room there

and bust a nut
in the fucking wall
if you want to.

That would be definitely
less gay, wouldn't it?

I mean, yeah,
it would, actually.

It would be less gay.
Yeah, it would--

-technically.
-Technically speaking...

Being the authority
on gay, lennie.

He's like our gay coach.
He coaches us.

He invented this.
This is called the lennie.

No, I'm the authority
on other things,

'cause this-- it smells
like a dog's vagina.

So you're an authority
on dog's vagina?

-Too fucking easy.
-Glad you made that clear.

He set himself up
to get fucked up.

Just telling you,
that ain't gay, all right?

It's a little worse,
i think.

What do you call that,
when you have sex
with animals?

-Beastiality.
-I've been around 'em.

I have some more questions
about dogs vaginas.

Hey, crook, where did you
get your name from?

-Just a nickname.
-All right, hold up.

"How did crook get his name?"

And then the little kids clap.

"Yay!" All right,
so, our little boy Luis,

he's a beautiful man,
a puerto rican man,

he graduates from boot camp
and some of his boys come down.

They said
they're gonna pick him up,
take him on a joy ride.

His boys get to the gate,

he runs out,
he jumps on the car.

They go driving
for a little while.

Fucking driver looks down
at the gas Gauge,

he goes "shit, we don't
have any fucking gas."

So, naturally,
they pull over.

They stop.
It's hot as fuck.

So Perez goes inside,
grabs a soda,

cracks that bitch open,
and he starts drinking it.

He looks over, he sees a shelf
full of fucking "playboys"

and "hustlers" and shit,
and naturally he's like,

"yeah, I wanna see
some titties."

-Naturally.
-Naturally, right?

That's not where
the story goes.

-It's not unnatural.
-It is totally normal shit.

And then, so he opens up
this porno mag--

let's ask lennie.
Is it natural?

It wasn't dog dick.

-It was some woman's--
-did I say dick

-or did I say vagina?
- All right, all right.

I'm telling you
a vagina's a vagina.

Shut up.
He's checking out
these fucking titties,

and he's drinking
this soda, right?

A couple of minutes go by,
he's looking at some titties,

pretending like
he's reading some articles,

but really he's just
looking at titties,

he hears, "meep, meep."

He's like, "oh, shit,
i gotta roll."

So he puts the fucking
porno mag down,

he rolls outside,
next thing he knows, boom!

Fucking gi Joe
undercover motherfucker

rolls up, slams him
against the fucking car,

calls for motherfucking backup,

and because
this Latin, beautiful

Ricky Martin-looking
motherfucker

is not white as fuck,

these motherfuckers
put his ass in jail

for the night for
motherfucking shoplifting.

I'm sorry, you tell
this story every time,

but he did steal a coke.

So, he gets back
to fucking base

on Monday morning after
he gets bailed outta jail,

which was not fucking cheap,
as I recall.

We all know,
word travels fast as fuck.

We hop out
of our fucking bunks.

We're just pointing, hooting,
hollering, laughing.

So we started
calling him "crook"

because he almost pulled off
the perfect crime.

-Amen, brother.
-That's right, that's right.

No one--
that's old to everyone?

-Yeah.
-You fucking always laugh
at that shit.

-I did laugh.
-Inside, though.

-That was me laughing.
-I needed real
support from you.

No, that was it.
That was pretty good.

Guys, he's telling
my life story here!

It's good, I like it.
I value that.

Shh, shh.

What, man?

I farted.

That was it.
That was it.

-That was what it was.
-Anything that'll keep us warm.

It actually made it
smell better in here.

You fucking mortar attacked.

Actually smells better
now that he farted.

Lennie, lennie's also
the authority on ass funk,

so he probably is an expert.

How does that rank
with dog vagina?

-Smellwise?
-Smellwise, yeah.

-You know, I'm not gonna--
-and gay smell.

I mean, put gay smell
in there, too.

How is a vagina gay?
I'm sorry.

You can be an expert
on more than one thing.

-Yeah, I'm sure you can.
-Don't limit yourself.

Vagina's not gay.

Just because
you didn't graduate from
fucking junior high

does not mean you can't be
an expert on some shit.

I'm so fucking hard
right now.

This is the last thing
you hear before you die.

Monti, do you know
any spirituals?

-Hey, man.
-No, we don't sing
spirituals no more.

We do a foot up your ass.

That's a fucking hot one.

It's gotta be morning,
'cause all the guys

are picking up their shit

and it's at least
40 degrees warmer

than it was during
our little cuddle session.

Although I'm not fully convinced
that it's morning yet

because I didn't sleep a wink.

Ah, fuck me.

Here is the biggest jerk ever.

Julian Montgomery.

Back at camp, the guys told me
they called him private duh,

because he's such an idiot.

They'd say,
"it's not that he's not smart,

he's just a fucking idiot."

Now I can see what they mean.

To his face though,
we call him monti.

I mean,
we're not fucking stupid.

Nobody likes the guy.

The only reason why
they keep him around

is because he's such
a tough asshole.

He's the bully you always
wanted on your side

whether you like
the guy or not.

The fuck you want?

I was just wondering
if I can interview you?

I hate reporters.

Because we're so cute?

No because you remind me
of chicks.

Always wanting
to fucking talk.

What makes you think I want you
to interview me, huh?

Answer me!

-I don't know, i--
-answer me, you fuck!

-Monti, chill the fuck out.
-Shut the fuck up, crook.

No, no, no, no.
I want you to get
this shit on the camera.

Oh, yeah.

So how's it feel, huh?

How's it feel for somebody
to invade your personal space?

Gets a little
fucking uncomfortable,
doesn't it, huh?

Go ahead,
ask your question.

I said, ask your question,
Geraldo!

What do you miss
most about home?

I miss pretty little
bitches like you.

-Sweet little fucking--
-come on, man.

I'm gonna take our that eye.
You won't be shooting shit

-after this,
you motherfucker.
-Get off of me, man!

Fuck you,
you son of a bitch.

Monti, what the fuck?

Come on! Somebody get this
fucking guy off of me, man.

Shit!

Oh, shit!

Whoa, whoa, whoa,
whoa, whoa!

-Get off!
-Back off!

Epw check!

That's a fucking I.E.D.

That's fucking I.E.D.
On there.

-Defuse that fucking thing.
-I got it.

Get down here
take a look at this.

Holy shit.

I don't know if you
understand English,

but understand this,
we are locked and loaded

and looking for a fucking
reason to end you right now.

-Go easy, bro.
-All right, that's it.

Ain't got shit.

-You sure?
-I'm sure.

Hold on one second.

Fucking stop shaking.
Hold still.

-I got it.
-All right.

-Are you sure?
-Yeah, I'm sure.

-Holy fuck.
-Help me get her up
to her feet.

Help me get her up.

Okay, we'll take this off.

-She can't do that.
-Shut the fuck up right now.

Jesus Christ!

-How are we doing?
-You got it?

Moving back, moving back.

Step off. Boom.

Make sure she's clean.

Tie this bitch up
in the back.

What the fuck,
lennie, man?

Hey! What the fuck
are we gonna do with her now?

Fuck, man! I haven't
gotten that far yet.

You're in charge,
you better figure that out.

What the fuck, man?

You should have just let me
cut that bitch.

We wouldn't even be fucking
having this conversation.

Listen, private duh,
if we had killed her,

she would have dropped
the dead man's switch,

we'd all be dead right now,

and we would not be having
this conversation.

How are we doing back there?

She's secure.
We tied her up good.

Yeah, make sure you tie
that bitch up tight.

-Shut the fuck up, monti!
-Shut the fuck up!

Everybody shut the fuck up.

She's gonna be fine
tied up there tight

back for a while,
all right?

Why didn't she detonate
that bomb?

She had all the time
in the world

when she came in here.

Why didn't she do it?
She get cold feet or something?

What you fucking mean,
"cold feet"?

She's not getting fucking
married, lennie.

What the fuck
you think is going on?

-Who cares?
-The fuck off of me!

All of you shut
the fuck up, all right?

You gonna blow yourself up
in a million pieces,

you think you're gonna
straight do it?

You'd be scared as shit, too.

Whatever the reason,
she didn't, all right?

And we're not
all fucking dead,

so unless anybody has a problem
with not being fucking dead,

I suggest we drop it
right now.

Graham, guard the prisoner.
Everybody back to your post,

and the next time I ask you
to guard the fucking door,

it means do not let some
vested up hajji bitch

waltz into my fucking
living room!

How did she get through
the fucking barrier?

You don't have
20 fucking questions!

You're off this fucking post.
Crook, get over here!

Go in that fucking room
right there and cry to yourself

until you remember
how to be a fucking soldier.

Get down there!
Jesus Christ!

Shit.

Sometimes there's just
nothing to say.

This is why I came here.
I gotta say something.

Truth is...

We could all
be dead right now.

That is a scary-ass thought.

I don't know
why she didn't detonate
that fucking bomb.

I just know
it'll drive us all crazy

if we try to figure
that shit out.

This guy, he's gotta be
one of the funniest,
nicest guys around.

And by nice, I just mean
he won't fuck with you

unless you fuck
with him first.

-Graham?
-Katie Couric.

-Feels good to be alive.
-Very funny, very funny.

So, you told me how crook
got his nickname,

-how'd you get yours?
-You love these fucking
nicknames, don't you?

Well, um, I was
back in boot camp

and hanging
around the barracks.

A bunch of these
fucking meatheads

started fighting
each other.

And I just wasn't
in the mood for that shit,

so I ran over,
i broke it up,

and then a bunch of guys
started calling me Gandhi.

But it turned out "Gandhi"
was already taken

by the only other
Indian guy in our unit,

and I think that both of us
can agree that Gandhi

works a little bit better
for an Indian guy

than it does me,
so then they started
calling me "Billy Graham".

What's with the old
newspaper there?

Crosswords, man.

You do know they make
crossword puzzle books, right?

-I do know that.
-Okay.

-I do, thank you.
-Just checking.

I just like having
the paper around, you know,

in case I wanna
take a look at it.

It might be old news
and fucking depressing,

but it's something of
the outside world, you know?

It makes me feel like...

There's something out there
other than this.

I mean, I guess that's why
we take pride in little things

like brushing our teeth
or even just taking a shit,

because we all
just wanna feel normal.

Because when you
think about it,

this shit is not normal.

What else do you do to keep
your mind off all this?

Well, you don't really keep
your mind off all this.

I wish you did,
but back on base most guys
just fucking, you know,

read, work out,

play pranks, jerk off,

clean their rifle.

I write--
i write letters a lot.

Also, I jerk off.

-Naturally.
-But don't tell
anybody that because--

-in the locked box.
-Okay, good.

Who usually writes
you letters?

My family. You know,
mom, grandma, aunts.

My wife, mostly, though.

-Your wife?
-Yeah, my wife.

-You're married?
-Fucking dude.

You gotta be-- holy shit,
how did I miss that?

There it is.
How did you miss that?

It's my fucking
bling right there.

Listen, well, you're not
gonna fucking miss this

when I show you.
You ready?

Keep it together,
all right?

-Okay.
-Bam.

-Whoo!
-That's a woman right there.

-You kidding me?
-No, I'm not.

-That's your wife?
-That is my wife.

You didn't rip that out
of a magazine or something?

I may have done that,
but then married it.

But, um...

We made that.

That's my son, Max.

He's two weeks
in that picture,
but he's bigger now.

Congrats, man,
he's really cute.

Yeah, I haven't
met him yet,

but my wife says
he's got my personality.

Would you like to say something
into the camera for Max?

I don't--

no, I got--

I got what I wanna say
right here.

What the fuck are you doing,
huh? Answer me!

What the fuck
are you looking at, slut?

Pull your
fucking head together.

Hey, look at me.

Fuck, man,
she keeps staring at me.

Let it go. Focus.

Fuck it.
I'm looking at her, man.

-Calm down.
-Easy.

Goddamn it, Geraldo!
Get that goddamn thing off!

Monti, calm down! Jesus!

Shit.
Fucking piece of shit!

Come on, kid.

You gotta steer clear now.

My first wounds in battle.

It's not a broken bone
or detached limb

from stepping on an I.E.D.

Bloody nose, bloody lip.

Hey. Hey, can you hear me?

What the fuck?

Get the fuck away from her.

Don't let her
innocent face fool you.

Did you forget she tried
to blow us the fuck up
a few moments ago?

That is exactly
how they get you.

They look like
innocent civilians,

and they will kill you
without even a second thought.

So for your safety
and for ours,

stay the fuck away from her.

It's been over 20 hours.

I think it's finally starting
to catch up with everyone.

There's been a few signs
of breaking down,

but I think you can see
how being locked up this long

would make you act in ways
you normally wouldn't.

I don't know how much longer
we can take it down here.

But for now, we wait.

Dillon Moore, aka butch,

the newly appointed sergeant
for the time being.

I think he's from Montana

or maybe it's Colorado
or something.

I'm not sure.

I just know that
he grew up on a ranch

that's bigger than
my hometown.

The guys named him butch
after butch Cassidy

'cause they're both
from the wild west.

I think they named him butch

because he can be
one tough dude,

but only when he has to be.

He certainly put me
in my place before,
that's for sure.

Is this how you normally
conduct your interviews,

just wait for your interviewee
to start talking?

What do you fear the most
in this situation?

Okay, um...

Well, what's the one thing

that you think my audience
needs to know about your men?

Um, that soldiers don't
just live one kind of life.

You're interviewing them

and you're getting them
in this moment,

but look at
my guys out there.

These guys have
girlfriends and wives,

kids.

They deal with all
the same stuff
everybody else does.

Births, deaths, you know,
a root canal.

Car breaks down,
birthday party.

I guess that's it,
that soldiers live more
than one way of life.

-Do you have family?
-Oh, yeah.

A great pop, two brothers,
one older, one younger.

All are or were soldiers,
including my grandfather--

three generations worth.

What about your mom?

She left when we were kids.

And you're not married?

I hear the divorce rate
for servicemen is higher

than any other profession.

Is there any truth to that?

I think that
if you're gonna make a career
out of the military,

you are at a higher risk.

Why do you think?

Well, the military is--

you know, it's funny,
when you sign up,

that becomes your priority.

Everything else falls
in line behind that.

Maybe it's not fair,
but that's just part
of the sacrifices

we make in service
to our country.

But family shouldn't
take a back seat.

A wife and kids,
they shouldn't have
to come second.

But truth is for me,
these guys have become
my family.

What's the toughest part
about being a leader?

Living with the consequences
of your decisions.

Have you ever made a decision,

you look back in retrospect

and realize
it was the wrong one?

Oh, sure.
I mean, we all have.

Maybe one that sticks out
a little more than the others?

Look, I think it's important
that my audience knows

the difficulties
of being a leader,

that not everybody
is cut out for it.

What is that supposed to mean?

I think you need to tell me
what that decision was.

A while back I was
with a different unit.

A whole different group of guys,
different personalities,

and we were going
into the city of marjah,

and at the time there was
no real threat there,

so it was pretty
standard stuff.

I was the squad leader,
and we encountered these--

this group, it was,
like, a 60-year-old man

and a woman in her twenties.

She was crying,
she was screaming.

And there was a little boy,

and you could tell
from 50 meters out

he was covered in blood,
and so they need help.

So I turn to
the soldier next to me,

private Kelly, and i--
we called him fozz,

after fozzie bear
on "the muppet show",

because, man,
he told the worst
fucking jokes.

In fact, he just walked
right up to me and he said--

he tipped his helmet back
like he did when he talked,

he said, "what happens
when a pepper gets mad?"

It gets 'jalap-eno' face."

Right? Like that.

"Jalap-eno". Terrible.
That's what he said.

That was the last
thing he said.

I mean, you see an old man
and a woman crying

and a little kid
who needs help.

You send over--
we're supposed to be winning

the hearts and minds
of these people.

We're supposed to be helping
the civilian population.

That's what
we're doing here, right?

So, fozz goes over there,
he drops to one knee,

and he tips his helmet back

like he's gonna
tell them a joke,

it's gonna be all better.

Old man takes a gun and
shoots him right in the face.

You asked me
what I'm afraid of.

It's not the chance
that I'm gonna get killed,

it's the certainty
that I'm gonna lose
one of my men.

So, how do you tell
somebody's mother that?

You trusted me
with your boy,

and I made a bad
fucking call,

and he's not coming home.

You told me that these guys
have become your family.

Does that make you feel
like you're all brothers?

Oh, yes, for me, it does.

Even if you wanna kill
some of them sometimes.

I mean, these guys--

but the thing is,

even the ones you hate,
you love.

You see, that's what
i don't understand.

How is it that
sometimes you guys
hate each other so much,

but yet, when the shit
hits the fan,

you have each others backs?

I mean,
it's drilled into us.

I guess you don't know
they do.

You hope they do.

-Well, I think they do.
-You think so?

That's good.

What are you gonna
do with her?

-Hold on.
-Butch! Butch!

Hey! Hey!

-Shit!
-Jesus Christ.

We got you. We got you.

Oh, my god.
What the fuck?

-Here comes Nolan.
-Back! Move! Back! Move! Back!

Put pressure on it.

Yeah, we gotta
get pressure on it.

What the fuck
happened to Nolan?

-He didn't fucking make it.
-Goddamn it.

Come on, man!

Sarge, get with it!
Sarge!

Breathe.

You're gonna be fine,
sergeant!

Sarge, you are fine.
We're gonna get you
out of here.

You're gonna be fine.

It's not that bad.
It's not that bad.

Keep your eyes open,
sergeant.

Keep your eyes open, sergeant.
You're gonna be fine.

-That's it, in and out.
-You're gonna be fine, okay?

You're good, you're good.

Sarge, come on, look at me.

-No, no, no!
-Sarge!

-No!
-Come on, come on!

Shit.
He's breathing, right?

-Fuck.
-Shit.

Come on, sarge.

Sarge.

What the fuck, man?

We should get the fuck
out of here

is what we should be doing.

I told you,
shut the fuck up.

All right, men,
here's what we're gonna do.

We are leaving this bunker
immediately.

We're low in food and water,
and more importantly,

we've still got two
of our brothers out there.

So we're leaving in 5 minutes,
and that includes you, Geraldo.

It's a madhouse
out there, butch.

-I'm sure it is.
-You have no fucking idea.

You remember ziraj?
Multiply that by five.

It's way too fucking
dangerous out there
for a reporter.

-He will not--
-i can't leave him here
by himself.

You have to, butch.
It is no place

for a non-combatant.
He will only be a liability.

All right, we have to
leave somebody with him.

No, you can't.
We're red on ammo.

Everybody needs
to go out there.

Well, I can't fucking
leave him here, Skinner.

You have to
if you want him to live.

Goddamn it! Fuck!

-All right, here I go.
-Shit, shit, shit.

All right, Geraldo,

- you're staying here.
- What?

-No questions.
-We had an agreement, okay?

I stay with you guys.
I document this war.

-I said no questions.
-I'm not asking any
fucking questions.

What part of goddamn
no questions

don't you understand?
I said no questions!

I thought you journalists
were supposed to be smart!

All right, okay!
He fucking stays, all right?

It's done.
Let's go get our shit.
Come on. Come on.

We're leaving in 5 minutes
as soon as that fighting
out there dies down,

so everybody
get fucking ready.

Fuck this.
I'm going with you guys.

You listen to me now.
You get a free pass right now

because you haven't
been doing this shit
as long as we have.

But when you're in a war,
i don't care

if you're a soldier
or a lonely fucking reporter,

you listen to the one
who's in command,

and this one
is fucking telling you
you are staying here.

We're coming back
for you, okay?

Just fucking
hold your ground.

This decision
is such bullshit.

I stay here,
they go out there--

leaving me all by myself?

Geraldo?

Yeah, um...

I wanna get a second chance
at my interview now.

Yeah, sure, okay.

I mean, a little bit
more privacy...

-And no camera.
-But I have to document this.

Look, I don't care
who you're filming,

but I'm saying I just
don't wanna be seen saying it.

Okay, why now?

Why all of a sudden
this change of heart?

What are you
feeling right now?

-I'm fucking pissed.
-I can see that.

Look, we got some
fucked up r.O.E.'S., man.

Rules of engagement?

I mean, who would have
ever thought that there
would be rules

to who you can and cannot
shoot in a fucking war?

No, I wanted to cap
that bitch back there.

Not just because I wanted
to shoot somebody, you know?

Because we cannot
shoot anybody

who is dressed
in civilian clothes.

But that bitch works
for the Taliban,

and I can't shoot her
because she's unarmed?

She was sent here to kill us

and I have the right
to protect myself.

You know?

I see somebody, right,
that I know is the enemy.

I see them
with my own two eyes,

and I know
that he's the enemy,

but I can't shoot him
because he's unarmed.

But he's on the fucking
cell phone with his buddy

up in the fucking mountain
trying to blow up the I.E.D.

That I'm standing on.

We got some
fucked up r.O.E.'S man.

And the scary shit about it,

the Taliban, they know
what we can and cannot do.

You see, these rules, man,
they're not about saving lives,

they're about winning
the hearts of others,

about creating an image.

They're not about
saving lives.

So are you pissed
or are you scared?

I mean, why did you want
a second chance

at this interview?

Look...

We're going out to war
for real this time,

and I guess I realized that
this was the last chance

that I might have to say
something important.

Seeing sergeant Nelson
dead like that, man,

it made me wanna go out there
and shoot somebody.

You know, not just
to shoot somebody, man.

I wanna go and make
somebody suffer.

You know, payback.

And I'm not talking
about that everyday feeling

that I had that I wanna
fight somebody, you know?

I want revenge.

That one motherfucker,
i want him.

I want revenge.
That's my friend.

That's my friend.

Are you okay with this?

Yeah.

You know, most reporters
that I see out here,

they're just
out for themselves.

They'll get they're own story,
no matter what the cost.

So I'm surprised you didn't
put it on me sooner.

Yeah, well,
they told me not to,
so I didn't.

But right now
it's just about two

war buddies talking shit,
am I right?

Yeah.

You got that right, Sam.

All right, let's go!
Let's go, let's go!

Let's lock it up.

This is it.

Look, man,
basically it's this.

This is the safety.
Red means dead

that means it's live.
Do not shoot yourself
in the leg.

Do not shoot anybody
but one of those motherfuckers
coming in here.

You only got a couple rounds.

-Good luck, man.
-Just use this.

-Red means dead, man.
-See you soon, Geraldo.

You're gonna be all right
in here, all right?

-Come on, guys.
-We'll come back for you.

Let's pick it up.

I know this isn't
the decision you wanted,

but it is the one
that's gotta be made.

All right, guys, let's go.

As far as she goes,
as an American,

I'm saying do what it takes
to keep her alive,

but as your friend,
I'm saying do what it takes
to keep you alive.

-Come on, guys, pick it up.
-You understand?

-Yeah.
-Pick it up.

We're gonna
come back for you

as soon as we find
our brothers out there.

We are coming back for you.

-Move out! Hooah!
-Come on!

Let's go! Let's go!
Come on, guys!

Lennie, hurry up.

They left me with a pistol

and a woman from the opposite
part of the world,

neither of which I know
what to do with.

Holy shit.

What the fuck?

Give me your arm.

There.

Here you go.

What's your name?

Don't move.
Just don't move.

Do you speak English?

I said,
do you speak English?

Hey! What!

Sit. Shit.

Oh, shit.

Fucking shit!

Oh, my god.

What the fuck
am I supposed to do?

The fucking guys
were right. Fuck!

Shit.

If you'd just--
just come back.

We found that when
we first got here.

You never put a koran
on the floor.

Will you just-- will you
tell me something?

Anything?

Tell me your name.

Hey, sit down!

Sit down.

Please.

What's your name?

My name is Sam.

My name is zarmina.

It's been an hour
since you told me your name,

but whenever you're ready.

What is that?

These are babies' bones.

What?

Sam.

Holy shit!

Sam, please be gentle.

It's okay. I got it.

Oh, my god.

Have you ever known
a child who died?

No. Have you?

Yes, too many.

What are we gonna do?

We pray.

You know there are two
different types of tears--

regular tears

and tears
when you lose a child.

They are very different
types of tears.

It's been 30 hours.

It's a personal record for me.

One time I had the flu
and my mom,

she made me stay home
for 24 hours straight.

I went crazy.

I had the worst case
of cabin fever.

Go, go, go.

Go, go, go! Hurry!

Stay down. Don't move, Sam.

Sam, put the camera down.

Sam, please.

Put it down, Sam.

I have to. I have to.

Are you okay?

I think I just need
a minute, please.

About a--

about a minute
and a half has passed

since I turned
the camera off.

I always told myself
that I would never

stop capturing a moment

no matter how fucked up
the situation.

I'm not about to start now.

I don't know, I guess
i just never thought

those fucked up situations
might happen to me.

Are you okay?

Um, I haven't decided yet.

Do you think
they'll come back?

-I don't think so.
-How do you know for sure?

I do speak pashto.

One of them said
that he didn't see any signs
of U.S. military,

so they'll move on
and probably won't be
coming back.

You weren't straightening
things up earlier,

you were hiding them.

You knew they'd be coming.

-Thank you.
-You're welcome.

No, really, I mean it.

You could have handled
that situation
any way you wanted

I could be dead right now.

I'm just returning the favor.

I wanna interview you.

-Zarmina.
-I heard you.

Please don't.

You didn't show up here
with a bomb strapped
to your body by choice.

If anyone from the Taliban
were to see this video,

they would kill me
and my entire family.

Look, I don't know
anything about you.

I'm sure no one dies.

I wanna know your stories.

You could be the one person

who changes
everyone's stereotypes

of Afghans and muslims.

You could change
that whole perception.

You could be the one woman

who captures the hearts
of Americans.

I mean, we're suckers
for these kinds of stories.

Tell me why you came here.

Tell me why you came here

with a bomb
strapped to your body.

You're right.

I didn't come here by choice.

Tell me why.

Yesterday when I was walking
home from the market,

a group of Taliban
soldiers saw me.

They grabbed me and beat me.

They threw me down
on the ground

and strapped
a bomb to my body.

They told me that
i needed to go to an area

where they believed
that U.S. soldiers were

and detonate the bomb,

killing myself
and as many Americans
as possible.

If I didn't,
they would find me

and kill me
and my whole family.

I decided to go
to a remote area,

killing only myself,
and therefore dying in peace.

I didn't know anyone
was in here until I got here.

As a woman, what was it like
growing up in Afghanistan?

Zarmina, when my audience
sees these tapes,

I want them to get to know
this side of people,

the side they didn't expect.

They need to know it exists.

Without you,
they won't know.

Come on, zarmina,
you can do this.

I remember when the Taliban
came to my school

and forced the girls out.

As they were pushing us out,

one of my best friends
fell to the ground.

They shot her in the back.
She died right there.

I have never experienced
what it is like to have rights.

Do you know any members
of the Taliban personally?

Yes.

Two cousins,
and I love them dearly.

How? I'm sorry,

how is it possible
that you have two of your own
flesh and blood

belong to such
an evil organization

and yet you
still love them?

Some men believe
that the only way

to provide for their family
is by joining the Taliban.

They would rather be known
as terrorists,

then see their wife
and children die
of starvation.

Holy shit!

I'm about to introduce you

to our traditional
Afghan dinner.

So the first thing that we do
is we take off our shoes.

Okay.

Oh! Maybe we should
keep the shoes on.

No! No!

You never eat
with your left hand.

Your left hand is used
for your personal hygiene.

You don't want to mix
the two, now do you?

Thank you
for your hospitality.

Hospitality
is an essential part
of Afghan culture.

This is probably the best meal
I've had in a long time.

Thank you.

You come across as a very
independent woman.

I'm sure you had
dreams as a kid.

I still do have dreams.

Tell me about them.

Well...

I always wanted
to be a journalist,

much like yourself.

I think that's great.

What made you want
to become a journalist?

I think civilians
have the right to know

what is going on
in the world.

It's their world,

their home.

Our home.

Our country.

What is it that instilled
this belief in you?

When I was 17

the Taliban kidnapped
my father.

My father
had his own business.

He was a Baker.

And when the Taliban
found out

that he was having my mother
bake from our home,

they took him away from us.

And for seven months,

we didn't know
what happened to him.

And then we found out
that they were using my father

to test explosives.

But that's not
the worst part.

The first time they threw him
out into the field,

only part of the bomb
detonated.

But he was still alive,

so they set him on fire.

My father dying
the way he did was...

Horrific.

Being a woman
in Afghanistan is hard,

but being a widowed mother
is even harder.

How can you provide
for your family

if you're not
allowed to work?

My mother tells me that
Afghanistan used to be

a beautiful place to live.

Women used to have freedom.

They could get an education,

have a successful career,
much like my mother.

She's the one
who educated me

and taught me English.

And then the saur revolution,

and everything changed.

Why didn't you just leave
the country like most women?

Would you leave your country
if things got bad?

It's your home.

Why should you leave
your home?

No one should be forced
to leave their own home.

So that is my story.

Are you guys hanging in there?

Okay.

What about you, monti?

I'm doing all right, butch.
How about Julian?

You hanging in there?

You know it.

You guys,
i just want to say,

after all the bullshit
we've been through,

my libido is still
fucking cracking

and I would fuck
every single one of you guys.

Especially you, lennie,
that's looking good for real.

Hey, you keep
sweet talking about that, boy,

I will come right over there
and fuck your balls.

That's, oh,
that's so gross.

Yeah, when you say that
it just sounds disgusting.

Fucking gross.

-Hey, crook?
-Yo.

What you missing
about home, man?

Oh, man, watching
good old fashioned war movies

with my brothers.

Yeah, you know,
fucking classics.

Yeah, well,
for me, to be hanging out
on my front porch

with my buddies,
shooting squirrels.

Just bullshitting.

I'd say definitely
my wife's pussy right now.

Yeah, me, too, guys,
put me down for that.

Sounds good.
You should feel it.

No, man, for real,
i just miss my wife.

My kid I haven't even met yet,
man, that's all.

What about you, monti?

Nothing, man.

This is pretty fucking cool
right here.

Hey.

To your left!
Left, left, left!

Stay on him! Stay on him!

Now it is your turn.

You feel uncomfortable
about it, right?

Okay.

Tell me how
your childhood was.

I don't like this.

Come on!

This could be
your chance to tell us

what the Americans
are really like.

So tell me,

what was your childhood like?

My childhood was good.

My mom raised me.

She was only 19
when she had me.

I know it was difficult
for my mother.

You know, I didn't have
a father growing up

and I tried,
i tried as best
i could to help out,

but, you know, as a kid,
you can only do so much, right?

She's such a cool lady.

What made you want
to be a journalist?

Well, I've always just had
this really strong desire

to get to know people
and then to tell their stories.

I want to tell the truth.

Being a reporter is a lot
like being a good friend.

You have to care
about your subjects,

you need to be thoughtful,
and you have to listen.

I mean, those other things
that make people open up

about themselves--

am I right?

You're right.

I mean, there's an answer
for everything.

But the difficult part is
when there's an answer

behind an answer, and it's
my job, as a journalist,

to find out what
those answers are.

What made you want
to cover the war?

My dad.

You said you didn't have
a father growing up.

Well, growing up I didn't.

My dad was in the army.

My mom tells me
that he was a very
patriotic man.

She says that's where
i get it from.

In 1983, when U.S. troops
invaded Grenada...

He was killed by a group
of Grenadian soldiers.

I'm sorry.

Has covering the war changed
the way you feel about it?

Definitely.

I mean, I have a new found
respect for these soldiers.

These guys they choose
to go out there during war,

risking their lives so that
i could stay here and be safe.

I mean, that's something
that not many people

would do for anyone.

Those guys...

My friends...

Are out there
risking their lives for us.

For me.

And what am I doing?

Sitting here?
Doing nothing about it?

Sam, they ordered you
to stay here.

I heard them myself.

They were just doing
their job.

I mean, don't you think
that you would be scared
shitless out there?

I know I would be.

I gotta--

what? Sam!

No, what are you doing?

Sam!

Sam.

-Sam, no you can't.
-Zarmina, please.

Sam, you will die.

It's not a matter of if,
it's a matter of when.

But you will die out there.

I'm sorry, Sam,
you are not a soldier.

Can you just--

can you just give me
a minute, please?

Okay.

Hurry!

All right!
I'll do what I can!

Fuck you!

On your knees! Now!

Get on your knees now!

I have a good deal for these
to fuck us over.

But the virgin mother,
dude, fuck.

The last few--

-Where has my messenger been?
-I don't know.

Fuck that fucking
piece of shit.

Hey, fuck you!

You fucking pussy!

Where are they?

I said I don't fucking know!

I don't know, goddamn it,
you just killed two of--

don't gripe to me.
Where are they?

Where is everybody else?
Goddamn it!

Listen!

I will ask you
one more time.

- There isn't anybody
else in front of me.
- Where are they?

-There isn't anyone.
-You're lying!

- Fuck you!
- Stand back!

What in the fuck did we do--

I can't stand it.

We gotta get
the fuck outta here.

Don't!

-Move! Move!
-This is bullshit.

Move! Move!

Let's get the fuck
out of here quick.

-Get up, get up, quick!
-You're fucking walking
outta here, Geraldo.

Get up, you fucking pussy!

-We're fucked.
-We're fucking walking
outta here.

Stay on your knees
or I will shoot.

We got it,
you fucking cunt,
piece of shit!

-It's gonna be okay, bro
-it's okay.

We'll be walking outta here
like we walked in.

I don't know why we don't
get the fuck--

is he crying?

Face the wall.

Face the wall!

Motherfucker, your turn.

Motherfucker,
take your hands off me.

You fucking dirty--

I beg you, please.
Please!

Keep your hands off me!

Are they awake?

I don't know who
will be watching this,

but I need to tell you
that there are dozens

of Taliban occupying
bunkers in qalat

and dozens more in shindand.

I don't know where I am.

I cam hear the two Taliban
that brought me here,

in the next room.

If you are watching this,

you need to find
Sam Grady's mother.

They're from Greenville, Ohio,

and you need to tell her
that he loves her

more than anything.

You should be
very proud of him.

I wouldn't be doing this
if it wasn't for him.

I just heard the door shut.

I think they may have left.

I hope this reaches someone,

and I hope it helps.

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