Original subtitles

Downloaded from YTS.LT

Official YIFY movies site: YTS.LT

Mama.

-Hi, Mr. Vito. -Hello, Franklin.

-Thanks for coming. -It's all right, son.

That all the luggage you brought with you?

Yes, sir. I gotta head back to Germany tonight.

Well, thank God you made it on time.

I sure am sorry about your dad, Son.

He went so fast.

I'm still in shock.

He was doing real good.

His mother passed away. We had to move into town.

I just hate to see him give up on his schooling now.

Well, believe me, he's a very bright young man, Mr. Bean.

He just doesn't have any discipline

and the military is just the tonic the doctor ordered in Franklin's case.

I know it's a rough decision for you, but if it's any consolation,

I have been down this road 100 times with boys like Franklin

and I've never been wrong once.

I'm sorry, Dad.

I'm so sorry.

I love you.

♪There's a land That is fairer than day

♪And by faith We can see it afar

♪For the Father Waits over the way

♪To prepare us A dwelling place there

♪In the sweet

♪By and by

♪We shall meet On that beautiful shore

♪In the sweet

♪By and by

♪We shall meet On that beautiful shore

♪We shall sing On that beautiful shore

♪The melodious songs Of the blessed... ♪

Does anyone want anything said?

♪In the sweet

♪By and by

♪We shall meet On that beautiful shore

♪In the sweet

♪By and by...♪

Eight ball.

I wanna try the eight balls.

-Wonderful. -I want two of them.

Why not?

But this time, I want them on my hands.

What?

I want one eight ball

on each hand.

Why you no put on your nose?

I ain't joking, Senora.

I want them on my hands.

No, it's not possible.

On the arms, yes. On the hands, no.

The Army no allow on the hands.

This is very important to me.

What do you say?

If I do, you must never tell.

I won't. I--I promise.

No, the promise. Swear to the Holy Mother.

I swear on my father's grave.

Hey, shit for brains. Guess who?

-Damned if I know. -Your voice is changing, old buddy.

Not since I was 15, it ain't.

I'm sorry.

-I'm very sorry. -It's okay.

Whoa, whoa.

Be careful.

Hey, buddy. You better sit down, man.

-You don't look so good. -Yeah?

-Shit can fall and I can walk a tightrope blindfolded. -Okay, okay, take it easy.

I got tattoos across the line where they show.

-Sinclair? You better come with us. -Look at me!

I got them where they show! I got tattoos where they show!

I'm taking it back, Dad!

You hear me? I'm taking it all back!

I'm outta here! I'm a free man!

I'm a free man from now on!

I'm a free man!

Sinclair, call an ambulance.

Left, left,

left, right, hut.

When I read the report, I thought you were gonna be scarred for life

if you lived.

Nah, just a slight concussion and a few stitches. You can't even see 'em.

-So how'd you make out at the hearing? -I don't know yet,

but I don't give a shit.

I'm requesting a 208.

-I'm through with the Army. -A 208?

That's easier said than done, pal.

-Hit me. -Well, I ain't worried.

I mean, what the hell else are they gonna do with me?

Hey, man. It's US Army, you never know.

-I'm busted. -What else is new?

-You Bean? -Yes, sir.

I'm Captain Ramon Garcia.

I represented you at the preliminary investigation

for the summary court.

Would you excuse us, Private?

Oh, yes, sir. I'll see you in a while.

Right, Sam.

-So how did we do? -Not bad.

-How you feeling? -Not bad.

Okay.

Bean Franklin. F.

What's the "F" stand for?

-Fairchild. -Hmm, sounds blue blood.

Okay, son, this is the very best deal

you're gonna see under the circumstances, believe me.

You get 100 days even.

Ten days' credit for sick time leaves 90 days in the stockade.

You lose your seniority and half your pay

and you pay for the window, of course.

You refrain from the use of alcohol for the period of one year

and the tattoos must be removed

within 30 days of your release from the stockade.

Well, that's easier said than done.

What are my options?

You could take your chances with a court-martial.

Do maybe three years with a dishonorable discharge,

but you get to keep the tattoos.

Three years?

Son, never hit an MP.

I don't even remember seeing an MP.

-Hmm. -I don't remember anything, for Christ's sake.

Yeah, well, that is to their advantage, isn't it?

What about a 208?

-A what? -A 208.

-What for? -I want out.

No, you don't.

Look, son. Do the 90 days.

The stockade's not all that bad here.

It's minimum security with a work farm detail and the weather's warm.

You just keep your nose clean.

You'll be outta there in no time.

Now, listen. I'm gonna make a special request on your behalf

to Colonel Fox at the summary court

and I need your signature right here.

Do it.

Come on.

Gracias.

Adios. You'll get my bill in the morning.

I won't be here in the morning.

Left, right, left, right, a-left, right...

-Sergeant Brooks. -Prisoner, halt.

May I see that weapon, please?

Ah, shit.

-Thank you. -Mm-hmm.

When you escort a prisoner to my stockade,

you will do so with a loaded weapon.

Right, Sergeant.

I'll need this signed, Sergeant.

I'm sure you do.

Steady, son.

Now, isn't there some copy

of this soldier's trial record for me as well?

-Yeah, Sarge. Here you go. -Here you go.

Dismissed, Sergeant.

No wonder you ended up in here with that sort of example set for you.

You had chow yet?

-I ain't hungry. -"I ain't hungry, Sergeant."

Gerald! Follow me, soldier.

Yes, Top.

We don't get many new customers in here,

which means there aren't many of us permanent personnel either.

-Take that up to my office, Gerald. -Right away, Top.

One man runs this stockade. Master Sergeant Otis McKinney. That's me.

As far as you're concerned, there ain't nobody else.

Now, I know you're scared and you got reason to be,

but I've been Army too long to be chickenshit.

You soldier along and pull your weight

and I'll be straight with you, okay?

No.

Do you have a problem, soldier?

-I'm through soldiering. -No, no, son.

You don't understand. You're fighting the wrong man.

We're on the same team, you and me.

-I got no team. -Are you a badass?

Does Mrs. Bean's little boy think he's a real badass?

There ain't no Mrs. Bean.

I see.

And why am I not surprised to hear that?

-Lamar. -Yes, Sergeant.

This Mr. Bean here has been dogging it.

Doesn't wanna shape up.

He says he's got no team.

You think maybe he'll change his mind

when he meets his new roommates?

-I believe he'll change his mind, Sergeant. -Yes, I believe so, too.

-Corporal of the Guard Lamar? -Yes, Sergeant.

Take charge of this prisoner.

We'll talk again in the morning, son.

I think by then you'll know you've got a team,

-want one or not. -I will not.

"I will not, Sergeant."

-That's a gig, Bean. -Gig for Bean.

And gigs mean trouble.

He's all yours, Lamar.

Welcome to my house, son.

Prisoner, through the gate!

March the yellow line.

Prisoner, halt!

Right face.

Drop your gear.

Uncover.

Parade rest.

Put your hands behind your head.

Don't eyeball me, man.

Don't sweat me. I'm doing my time here.

All I ask is you don't get McKinney on me.

-How long did you get? -90.

That ain't bad. General rules are posted inside.

Read 'em and follow orders or McKinney will gig you.

Prisoner, attention.

Left face.

Forward, march.

March the red line.

Keep that door locked all the time?

From "Taps" to "Reveille."

Prisoner, halt.

-What about a fire? -Against regulations.

Forward, march.

Watch yourself in there, man.

Hey, soldier. What you taking that faraway bunk for?

You afraid of Negroes?

I don't want to get in anybody's way.

Yeah, well, you must've already done that

to land yourself in here, son.

Or maybe you just don't like Negroes, huh?

I don't really know any Negroes.

I mean, I--

I know what you mean.

What's your name?

Hey, man. I asked you your name.

Bean.

Say again?

I said Bean.

You got a first name there, Bean?

-Franklin. -Franklin.

Hmm. Franklin Bean.

Is that anything like frank and beans?

I am frank and beans.

Uh-huh.

So tell me, Mr. Frank and Beans.

What's that shit you got on your hands?

What are you, a pool shark or something?

No, that was--

-that was a mistake. -No kiddin'.

Wow.

So tell me, slim.

How much time you draw?

-Ninety. -90 days.

Hey, that ain't bad. Let me help you get squared away here.

Hey, Digger Stokes, man. You playin' or what?

As you were.

- No, this will never do. - Mm-mm.

We'll have to get Sweet to square you away.

Name's Stokes.

Roosevelt Stokes, compound leader.

Call me Rose.

So what you smokin' there, Bean?

I got some Winstons here.

Winstons. Hmm.

They ain't exactly my brand, you understand,

but they will do.

Yeah, come on down, Bean.

I'd like to introduce you to the rest of the gentlemens.

On your left, Mr. Eugene Bryce.

Affectionately known as Spoonman.

Was ist los, man?

And now if you would direct your attention

to the center of the dance floor,

you will see a man in a white T-shirt.

Our own shining black prince.

May I present

brother Andrew Lawrence.

And my main man, Baby Webb.

Edward James Webb.

Harlem's own middleweight Golden Glove champ

of the year of our Lord 1963.

And the large individual behind you,

whose freshly mopped floor you just walked on,

is Harry "Sweetbread" Crane.

Now, he's not much of a conversationalist,

you'll have to understand, but the pipes,

the man has pipes that will bring Jesus into your heart instantly.

Nice to meet you all.

May I go now?

That white boy must have a blue and red suit on under that uniform.

Listen up, Bean.

You wanna stay way the hell over here by yourself, that's your business,

but you gotta understand one thing.

We are all in here together

and that means that you don't operate entirely on your own in here.

Nobody does.

You will pull your weight or we will make you wish you had.

You see, your being white don't mean shit in here.

As far as that old bastard up there is concerned,

we're all niggas in here. You dig it?

-I dig it. -I knew that you could.

Danke for the smokes, man.

Bitte schon, man.

I must say, Corporal Stokes,

that was very diplomatic of you

and you did have kryptonite in your pocket after all.

Thank you, Private Lawrence.

Thank you very much.

-Let's play, gents. -Let's play.

How do we feel this fine, sunny morning?

Oh, man. You cut that cheese?

Hey, you don't smell that good all the time.

Give me some room, man.

All right, ladies. Listen up!

You have 15 minutes to shower, shave, shit, shine, and shampoo.

Do you hear me? Now do it.

Fall in.

- Do it, do it. - Move it, move it, move it, quickly.

Dress, rolling, three.

Ready, hut.

- Morning, Sergeant. - Morning, Gerald.

Lamar, take your post.

- Good morning, gentlemen. - Good morning, Sergeant.

How do we feel this fine, sunny morning?

- Fine, Sergeant. - Very well.

Now then, let's see how we look.

- Gig for Private Webb. - Gig for Webb.

Silent contempt.

Compound Leader Stokes, looking pretty good.

You're gonna be a soldier again one of these days,

-aren't you, Mr. Stokes? -Yes, Sergeant.

Yes, indeed.

- Gig for Bryce. - Gig for Bryce.

Irish pennant. Cut it off.

- Gig for Lawrence. - Gig for Lawrence.

Piss-poor shave.

Good God Almighty, Crane. You look like a soup sandwich as usual.

Boots are bad, shirts unbuttoned, no A-line.

You are my problem child, missy.

Wonder how we'll ever get you looking good.

-Maybe we should get him a dress? -How 'bout that, Private Crane?

You think a dress would help? No, I don't think so either.

- Three gigs for Private Crane. - Three gigs for Crane.

Well, well, well.

And how do we like our new roommates, Mr. Bean?

-I like them fine. -"I like them fine, Sergeant."

- Gig for Bean. - Gig for Bean.

Do you understand now about how you've got a team?

-I got no team. -"I got no team, Sergeant."

- Another gig for Mr. Bean. - Another gig for Bean.

And another problem child,

but with 89 and 1/2 days to rehabilitate you, I would say the odds

are greatly in my favor, wouldn't you agree, Mr. Bean?

-I wouldn't know. -"I wouldn't know, Sergeant."

- Another gig for Mr. Bean. - Another gig for Bean.

-Feed 'em, Lamar. -Compound Leader Stokes, form for chow.

Prisoners, close ranks. March.

Left, left, left, left.

Mark time, march.

Private Bean, Private Crane, fall to the rear.

Do it now. Quickly.

Quick time, march.

Left, left, left.

Left, left, left.

Left, left, left.

-Was ist los? -Soul Patrol.

- ♪Oh, don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men--♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- One more. - ♪Gang ♪

- ♪Don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

♪Working on the chain ♪

- One P. - ♪Gang ♪

- Keep it strong. - ♪Can you hear 'em saying ♪

♪Ooh, ahh, yeah

♪Ooh, ahh, yeah

- ♪Oh, don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men--♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- One more. - ♪Gang ♪

- ♪Don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men

♪Working on the chain

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪Can you hear me say it ♪

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Feel good.

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Feel good.

- ♪Don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men--♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- One more. - ♪Gang ♪

- ♪Don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men

- ♪Working on the chain♪ - One P.

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪Can you hear me say it ♪

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Keep it right there, gentlemen.

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Come on!

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Sweet!

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Sing for me!

- ♪Give me water♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪I'm thirsty, my, my, my♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪My work is so hard♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪See my woman♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Who I love so dear Meanwhile♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Got to stay right here♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Give me water♪ - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

♪Ooh, ahh ♪

♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Soul Patrol.

♪Oh, don't you know ♪

Prisoners, quick and quiet.

♪Johnny's in the basement Mixing up the medicine

♪I'm on the pavement Thinking about the government

♪The man in a trench coat Badge out, laid off

♪Says he's got a bad cough Wants to get it paid off

♪Look out, kid It's something you did

♪God knows when But you're doing it again

♪You better duck down the alleyway looking for a new friend ♪

Move it out, move it out.

♪And you only got 10 ♪

♪Maggie comes fleet foot Face full of black soot

♪Talking that the heat Put plants in the bed

♪But phone's tapped anyway Maggie says that many say

♪They must bust in early May "Orders from the DA" ♪

♪Look out, kid Don't matter what you did...♪

Come on, Lawrence! Up, up!

Come on, Bean, you oaf. Get up there!

♪Better stay away from those that carry around a fire hose

♪Keep a clean nose Watch the plainclothes

♪You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wind blows

♪Get sick, get well Hang around an inkwell

♪Ring bell, hard to tell If anything is gonna sell

♪Try hard, get barred Get back, ride rail

♪Get jailed, jump bail Join the Army if you fail

♪Look out, kid You're gonna get hit

♪By losers, cheaters Six-time users

♪Hanging round the theaters

♪Girl by the whirlpool Is lookin' for a new fool

♪Don't follow leaders Watch the parking meters

♪Oh, get born, keep warm Short pants, romance

♪Learn to dance Get dressed, get blessed Try to be a success

♪Please her, please him Buy gifts, don't steal Don't lift

♪20 years of schooling And they put you on The day shift

♪Look out, kid They keep it all hid

♪Better jump down a manhole Light yourself a candle

♪Don't wear sandals You can't afford the scandal

♪If you don't wanna be a bum You better chew gum

♪The pump don't work 'Cause the vandals Took the handle

All right, you deadbeats. Listen up.

Today, we will take up where we left off yesterday, repairing the drainage ditch.

This afternoon, we will commence with fence repair.

So everybody make damn sure you've got your heavy work gloves.

Bean, you waiting on a personal invite?

We got work to do. Get your ass over here.

Crane, fill up that canteen on the double.

Corporal Gessner, my main man.

- Oop! - Soul Patrol gonna let this BS get us down?

Nix, nein, hell, no.

- Dang. - Another deutschmark.

I'm telling you, LBJ gonna have his way.

That Civil Rights bill don't mean shit,

-except we have to-- -Brother Andrew.

-Who's got Sweet? -He's mine.

- He's on chow. - I'm telling you, it's gonna be 10 brothers

to every other nationality.

And when I say every other nationality, we talkin' 'bout Anglos,

white Anglo-Saxon Protestant Americans.

We talkin' about Puerto Ricans,

Mexican Americans, Chinese Americans.

I'm telling you, brother, they're doing it, they're doing it now. Genocide.

They put the black man on welfare and at the same time kiss him farewell.

He came softly, unobserved,

and yet, strange to say,

everyone recognized Him.

That might be one of the best passages in the poem.

I mean, why they recognized Him.

The people are irresistibly drawn to Him,

they surround Him, they flock about Him, and follow Him.

He moves silently in their midst

with a gentle smile of infinite compassion.

The sun of love burns in His heart,

light, enlightenment, and power shine from His eyes,

and their radiance, shed on the people,

stirs their hearts with responsive love.

He holds out His hands to them, blesses them,

and a healing virtue comes from contact with Him,

even with His garments.

An old man in the crowd,

blind from childhood, cries out,

O Lord, heal me and I shall see Thee...

What the hell do you think you're doing, Bean?

Hey, take it easy. I'm just looking around.

My ass! I've been looking all over for you!

-Why'd you run off? -I didn't run off.

-I just came to get a closer-- -This is off-limits, God damn it!

-You could've gotten yourself shot! -Well, I didn't know that.

-I figured I could come up-- -Never mind!

From now on, you don't blow your nose or wipe your ass without asking permission!

Is that clear?

-Yes. -Okay, then, move it! Move it!

On the double! Move it, move it! Come on!

That's a gig for leaving the chow area without permission.

And another gig for being off-limits.

-Anything else? -Another gig for disrespect.

You know, I bet you I could fix that thing.

-That thing is no more of your damn business, Bean. -We'll see about that.

I'm telling y'all, I love Cassius Marcellus Clay

as much as any black man,

but you got to wonder, why, out the clear blue sky,

that this man change his name to Muhammad Ali

and embrace the Nation of Islam?

Is it because he's tryin' to dodge the draft or maybe even for publicity?

I'm telling you, Allah is nothing to mess around with, brother man. This I know.

-Brother man? -Yo, brother man.

-Did you not love Malcolm X? -I love El-Hajj Malik El-Shabazz.

He's the one who told him to change his name, man.

-How you know? -Well, hell, brother man. I can read.

Well, I can write my name sometimes.

Did I tell y'all about this dream I had the other night?

-No, but I bet you're gonna tell us about it. -Oh, bro, this was a woozy.

I dreamt I woke up and I was white.

-Get outta here. -That ain't no dream, man. That's a nightmare.

Don't I know it, brother man?

Look, I had the strangest urge,

I started clapping on one and three.

- No. - Yeah.

- All right, you loafers. - Let's haul ass home.

- What else happened? - Hey, man. I got to listen to all kinds

- of funny music, like, Clarence, Clearwater Revival. - Oh, shit.

- And "Three Dogs in the Night." - Oh, shit.

And eating cream cheese and bagels.

Not to mention the fact I wanted to chase around women with flat asses.

Un-ass the vehicle!

All right, Gerald. Let's see 'em, front and center.

-One-on-one. -You heard the sergeant. Do it.

-Hat clear, Sergeant. -Hat clear, Compound Leader Stokes.

Very well.

-Hat clear, Sergeant. -Hat clear, Bryce.

-Hat clear, Sergeant. -Hat clear, Webb.

-Hat clear, Sergeant. -Hat clear, Lawrence.

Hat clear, Bean.

Your first full day here and you still haven't learned a damn thing, son.

But I'm not worried

because if there's one thing I know for sure,

it's that we all choose sides eventually.

And believe me, they know which side they're on.

You're the only dummkopf here, son, but you will learn.

And when you do, you'll come running.

Move out, trooper.

And salute.

- Gig for Bean. - Gig for Bean.

Saluting the colors. Feed 'em, Lamar.

Compound Leader Stokes, on your command.

Prisoners, right face.

- Was ist los? - Soul Patrol.

- ♪Oh, don't you know♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- One more. - ♪Gang... ♪

Lamar, do me a favor.

Ask Otis if I can fix that windmill.

-Will do. -Thank you.

Don't thank me yet.

- You deal me in, man? - What you think,

I was sittin' over here playing solitaire?

-What I get? -How the hell do I know?

-Do I look like a prestidigitator? -Say what?

You heard me.

All right.

Hey, man. Did you take that gold Zippo out of my locker?

You hear somebody talkin', brother?

-Not me, man. -Look, fella.

I'm sorry, I forgot your name.

I'm just curious if you borrowed my lighter, that's all.

Fella?

Man, that's mighty white of you, man.

Don't even know my name

and here you are accusing me of taking your property.

Look, you know, I'm not accusing you of anything.

I'm just curious if you took it, and if so,

-I'd like to have it back. -Well, I don't know what you're talking about, man.

Look, I don't want any trouble here.

I just want the lighter. It's very special to me.

You're still here?

Well, what am I supposed to think?

I see you walking away from my goddamn footlocker over here coming out--

You son of a bitch, don't you curse me, man.

Don't you ever talk to me like that.

I'll drop you where you stand, you understand me?

-Just take it easy, all right? -And don't tell me to take it easy, all right?

You ain't shit to me, so don't tell me nothing.

As a matter of fact,

-I think you owe me an apology. -Oh, I owe you an apology?

-Yeah. -Yeah. You're crazy.

Oh, I'm crazy, huh? I'm crazy?

Are you all right there, Bean? Bean, you all right?

- Yeah. - Was ist los, man?

Hey, man. Somebody gotta put that white boy in his place.

-You had to put him in his place, huh? -Yeah.

-Why? -Well, he accused me of taking something, man.

Something? You wanna tell me what this something was?

How 'bout you, Bean? Bean! Shit!

My, my, my.

Now we're even. Brother Lawrence, a little assistance.

Major mistake there, Bean.

-Let's go. -Private Webb, Private Bean,

you will knock it off right now.

-What's my name? -Spoon, let the record show I tried to stop this.

What's my name, fella?

Come on, come on.

-That's it, man. -Oh, man.

All right. Come on, Bean.

You can fight again another day. Come on.

God damn.

How we gonna explain this, man?

That ain't my problem, brother. You'll think of something.

Get him cleaned up, Sweet.

What the hell is his name?

All right, ladies. Let's face the music.

Do it, do it.

Dress right, huh!

Ready, front.

-Morning, Sergeant. -Morning, Gerald.

Take your post, Lamar.

- Morning, gentlemen. - Good morning, Sergeant.

And how do we feel this fine sunny morning?

Fine, Sergeant.

Gerald, Lamar,

I don't seem to recognize this young trooper.

Well, well, well.

And how do we like our new roommates now, Mr. Bean?

-I like them fine. -"I like them fine, Sergeant."

-That's a gig, Gerald. -Gig for Bean.

From the looks of your face, I'd say they don't like you much, that right?

-I wouldn't know. -"I wouldn't know, Sergeant."

-Another gig, Gerald. -Another gig for Bean.

-Hold that gig. -Holding gig.

I warned you, didn't I?

Now you tell me who did this and I'll see they get punished.

Nobody did this. I had an accident.

-Bullshit. -I slipped in the shower.

You're lying to my face, Bean.

Why are you protecting these people?

You think they'd do the same for you? You'd better look in the mirror, mister.

I ain't protecting nobody.

Close rank, single line.

Ho!

Front leading rest position.

Ho!

Uncover.

Now then, I wanna tell you people about your new roommate.

This Mr. Bean here's a real smartass.

He thinks he's better than the rest of us. One.

While all you colored boys been soldiering, what do you think he's been doing?

Dogging it, that's what.

Deadheading and playing the sick call soldier. Two.

Well, he will learn not to dog it in here

and you people will grunt and sweat

every last day with him until he does learn it.

One. You know, Mr. Bean,

you're protecting a killer, an Article 121 extortionist,

a rapist, a punk thug, and an arsonist.

Just thought you might want to know something about this gang

of colored boys that you're sweating.

You like sweating your buddies like this, Mr. Bean?

See there? Ol' Bryce and Crane are really hurtin' 'cause you can't seem to get it.

Two.

You don't get it soon, all your buddies are gonna be hurtin'.

We're waitin' on you, Mr. Bean. One.

-Nobody gets up till Mr. Bean here starts singing. -Next stop, we drop.

Nobody goes to chow until Mr. Bean learns to say, "Sergeant."

-Next stop, we drop. -Next stop, we drop.

-Next stop, we drop. -Nobody goes anywhere until Mr. Bean decides

to soldier along with the rest of us. Two.

It's too bad you people have to suffer like this.

If you're lucky, Mr. Bean here might get squared away

in the next 88 and 1/2 days,

but then he's a smartass.

And like all smartasses,

he has to learn the hard way.

-It's a gig for Bean. -Gig for Bean.

Disruption of formation.

On your feet!

So you've chosen a team after all, huh?

Well, I've got news for you, mister.

You chose the wrong one, do you hear me?

You chose the wrong one.

- Feed 'em, Lamar. - Compound Leader Stokes, on your command.

Prisoners, right face.

Uncover.

God bless the United States Armed Forces and all who serve in them.

- Amen. - Seats.

Eat.

You may speak in subdued tones.

Mail call. Stokes.

No dice on the windmill.

I figured that was coming.

Get this to Command for me, would ya?

-Going right to the top, huh? -Yeah, why not?

-Can you let me know as soon as you get the word? -You got it.

Webb.

That is all.

My man.

Hey, fella.

I got winners.

Good. Ready?

That's it. That's another two dollars.

-Put it on my tab. -Listen, I don't wanna do this for nothing, man.

So what you got to lose?

I'll tell you what.

If I win, you help me fix the windmill.

What do I get?

$10.

That's cool. Shoot for outs.

Oh, boy, this is gonna be fun.

Ready? You sure?

Yup.

- Two. - All right.

Uh-oh. White boy got some face, Webb.

I'ma call that one luck, though.

Call it what you want.

-Yeah, that's what I like. -Way to take the white boy to the hoop.

Way to take the white boy to the hoop.

Let's go, let's go. Play the game.

Good at that game, Baby Webb.

-Oh, man. Did that go in? -I think he came to play.

- Lucky. - He tired already.

Come on, Webb. Whip it, Webb. It's just a game, now.

-All right. -That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

-That's what I'm talkin' 'bout. -Yes, sir.

-That's the way to play ball, man. -All right.

- Your game. - Show us now, Webb.

He got the height on ya. Don't let him get underneath there.

- I told you about that. - Don't let him get up on the boards.

-He got them inches on you. -Mm-hmm.

Accidents do happen. Don't let it happen again. -Man.

Come on, this should be a picnic.

White boy threw that shot on you.

-Take him to the hoop. -Come on, come on.

-All right. -No foul if you feel me.

Come on, Webb. Stick him, stick him.

You got to contest it, you know what I'm saying?

You have to do better than that.

You can't rush in, can't rush in.

-It's on the way. -Yes!

That's what I'm talkin' 'bout.

- It's 7-4 now. - Come on, come on.

Stick him, stick him. What's happenin', Webb? What's the problem?

- White boy shot the ball. - Said you could handle

- this dude. - Supposed to be your game, this is a white man.

-Wait a minute. I'm leaving. -All right.

I ain't even gonna watch. How you gonna let this white boy play ball like this?

It's a black man's game.

-That's my Baby Webb. -All right, come on.

Yeah, see, that's all that training.

- You gotta play it easy. - This boy can't play no ball.

You got to make him feel that one.

-Yes. -That's the way you got to ball.

Don't let him get up underneath the boards now.

-Now this is it. -You got it?

-This is the game point, all right? -Game point, man.

-All right, come on. -Sweet, stop clapping.

I must say, you ain't half bad for a white boy,

but the next basket's gonna cost you 10, right? Right?

-Oh, my ankle! Man, time out. -No.

- Get up, get up! - Get your ass up.

Oh, man.

- Hey, you a disgrace, boy. - You know that?

You a disgrace to the race.

Don't even help him up, Bean. Don't help him up.

Leave him alone. Let him get up himself.

The pitifulness of yourself.

Jive-ass.

Whupped by a one-eyed white boy.

Lawrence, ain't you got Sweet?

Yo, brother man, he's got latrine duty.

Yeah, well, keep an eye on him.

Man, did I ever tell y'all about the time

I met this fine fraulein at the hofbrau?

Had me spending Deutschmarks out of both pockets.

-That's some bullshit, man. -No, man, for real--

Build a wall today, they'll send us to tear it down tomorrow.

Yeah, makes no sense at all

building that little mini Berlin Wall in the middle of nowhere.

Hey, how's that ankle, Webb?

You may speak in subdued tones.

Give this to Sweet.

-Sweet. -And that one, too.

I see you ain't giving him none of your wienerschnitzel.

Nix, nein, hell, no.

I didn't know Sweet was Catholic.

I don't know how anybody can eat this slop.

P on these jerseys stands for "pitiful."

Good news, Bean. Permission granted on the windmill.

You only work during chow time. That is all.

What's wrong with you? I'm telling you, the black man...

I don't want to hear this bullshit when I eat.

- This is the BBC World Service... - What'd you do, mug a colonel?

-Excuse me? -Bean.

Never ask a man what he's done.

You ask him what he's convicted of,

you ask him what he's accused of, but never what he's done.

-I'm sorry, Lawrence. -No, it's cool,

and I appreciate that assistance, Corporal Stokes.

But if curiosity has gotten the better of you, Franklin,

and you must know why I'm incarcerated,

I've been accused of rape.

-Rape? -Rape.

But take my word for it, Bean.

I ain't raped nobody. I got a mama.

Story's simple enough.

I'm out and about one night on an overnight pass.

I meets this fraulein in a bar and she's intoxicated.

We go home, boom-boom, wake up the next morning,

she's no longer inebriated,

her husband walks in, and I'm a rapist.

I have made some mistakes in my day, but--

Yeah, last one was when you boom-boomed that fraulein.

That did cross my mind, brother man, but I want you to know it is not a mistake.

Now if you think, just think for one minute,

how many people are employed by or connected with Department of Corrections

and that's half the people in the United States.

Believe you me, we live in a society

that has a need for a criminal, so it creates one.

And just who do you think the prime candidates for that are?

-Think about it, Bean, think about it. -Excuse me. I'm sorry.

I don't know, but I'm gonna go shine my boots.

Mm-hmm. White boy shining shoes.

That is a novelty. I must see that.

I want y'all to keep in mind that every dog has his day

and good dogs have two.

Lo and behold,

if the Creator had made anything better,

He would have kept it for Himself.

What do you wanna mess with this old thing for anyway?

-Because I know what I'm doing. -How's that?

I helped my dad fix one when I was a kid.

So what do you think?

I think we should've played two out of three, but that's cool, man.

A deal's a deal.

So what do you want me to do?

I thought you'd never ask. Follow me.

That's it, that's it. Easy. Don't--don't look down.

-Oh-hh... -You got it.

-Oh, shit. -Okay.

-You're not afraid of heights, are you? -No, man. It's my ankle.

-It's just acting up again. -Okay, here's the deal.

- This is the pump shaft. - -This is AFN Frankfurt.

- We've got news of the next five... - So how'd you manage

that Article 121?

...Base Transportation Office reminds all of its listeners...

Excuse me, Corporal.

I mean, how did those bastards manage to convict you on a 121?

You my friend, man?

Yeah.

Do you wanna stay my friend?

For sure.

Then you don't wanna know.

Here's a news bulletin that just came from our newsroom

here at AFN.

We're told that several...

...so if you're from Missouri, South Dakota,

Illinois, or New Mexico,

make sure and get down to see your voting officer...

Welcome to the ghetto, slim.

Thanks.

There goes the neighborhood.

Well, didn't he get my last letter?

I wrote and told him I'd be calling on my birthday.

Say again?

Yeah, I know he is, but couldn't he wait

another five minutes, for Christ's sake?

How often does he get a chance to talk to his dad?

Say again? Hang on a second, Edith.

I can't hear a word you're saying.

Hey, excuse me, Corporal.

I'm trying to talk long distance here, do you mind?

Thank you.

Yeah, go on, Edith.

Yeah, I know that

and maybe your best just ain't good enough, kid.

You know damn well what I mean.

No, no, you listen to me.

You're supposed to be teaching that kid some respect and some discipline.

If your "best" was worth a shit,

maybe our son John would be there talking to me

on this goddamn phone

instead of me having to argue with your sorry ass again.

-Rack 'em up, Cecil. -All right.

Give me a double on the double, Corporal.

-Let's play eight ball, a dollar a ball, Ceece. -You're on.

Thank you, sir.

Do that again with a beer chaser.

-You want a beer, Ceece? -Thanks, Otis.

-Make that two beers. -Should I run a tab, Sergeant?

-Yeah, put everything on mine. -Done.

-Thank you. -You're welcome.

-Did you get through? -Yeah, I got through all right.

-There you go. -How's John?

He's fine.

Let's go.

He scare you?

Sometimes.

Yeah, me, too, sometimes.

McKinney's the kind of guy

who only feels good when he makes you feel bad.

That's the kind of guy I killed.

So you really did kill a Kraut.

Jawohl, sir.

He pulled a gun on me.

And there was these--

these two MPs that lied

and said the gun was mine.

So what's gonna happen now?

Well, I'm on appeal...

but I expect when that's over,

they'll take me up to Crailsheim and hang me.

Night, slim.

Goodnight, Spoon.

Ah! You scratched again.

Did you see that, Corporal? Didn't he scratch?

I'm sorry. I wasn't watching, Sarge.

-There you go, old buddy. -I don't want your money.

Man, you won it fair and square.

Let's play another one, double or nothing.

No, I'm running out of steam. Let's call it a night.

Hell, no, I'm just getting warmed up. Come on, Cecil.

Rack 'em up. One last game.

Give us a beer, Corporal.

Sorry, Sarge. They ain't allowed after hours.

Cut the shit and give me a beer, Corporal.

-Yes, Sergeant. -You want another beer, Ceece?

-No more. -Eh, come on. Have another beer with me.

-I had enough. -Oh, bullshit.

-Here you are, sir. -Thank you. You're a good boy.

Steady.

Damn near lost it there for a minute.

All right, old buddy.

I'ma mow 'em down like a row of gooks in a rice paddy.

Here we go.

Two... three.

Did you see anything go in there, Corporal?

Can't say as I did, Sarge.

Did anything go in?

-No. -You're sure?

You bastards. I gotta keep my eye on both of you.

It's your shot, Otis.

You're damn right it is.

Why'd you have to give him that last beer, asshole?

Rotten little son of a bitch!

Bean, we're gonna have it out, you and me!

Right now, son!

Come on out here, Bean! I'll show you the kind of man I am!

Come out here on the double before I tear down

this goddamn fence and drag your ass out here!

Come out here right now, goddamn you!

Come out here, you little son of a bitch!

It's me! Otis McKinney!

-You hear me, goddamn it? -Sarge, what's going on?

You sneaky bastard, Lamar.

You stay the hell outta this. It's between Bean and me.

I want that boy out here front and center

-on the double, you hear me? -You know I can't allow that.

You siding with him, that it, Lamar?

No, I'm not siding with anybody. I'm just doing my job.

Job, my ass. Bean, you son of a bitch!

Fall out here on the double, that's an order.

- Do you hear me? - What the hell's going on?

-Do you hear me? -Who you yelling at?

Franklin Fairchild Bean, that's who!

-Bean! -Get his ass outta here!

-I'll get him outta here, don't worry about it. -It's between you and me!

I want a fair fight, just you and me, and I want it now!

-You hear me? -Come on, you're drunk! Let's get outta here!

-Come on! -Stokes! Compound Leader Stokes, you son of a bitch!

You send that white boy out here right now

or I'm gonna make big trouble for you and the rest of them Negroes.

-Help me over this goddamn fence. -Get down from there, you jerk.

-You're gonna hurt yourself! -I'm warning you!

If you go over that gate, I'm gonna have to place you under arrest.

Shut up, Lamar, before I whup your ass, too.

-Sergeant. -Gerald, go and get the goddamn key for this gate

-on the double. -Yes, Sergeant.

-Gerald, he's drunk. I'll handle him. -Bean!

-You little son of a bitch! -Sergeant McKinney, this is your final warning!

-Do you hear me? -If you do not cease and desist and vacate these premises

pronto, I'm gonna have to arrest your ass!

-You chickenshit, Lamar! -Un-ass the gate!

Oh, Christ, I'm gonna throw up.

Give me a hand, Cecil, before I throw up on everybody.

Let's go! That's it. Thanks, Lamar.

Cecil, wait a second, old buddy.

Put me down. You better put me down for a minute.

Good night, Sergeant.

Happy birthday.

Drop it down.

I know damn well you saw that scene last night.

-Yeah, so? -So I'm asking,

would it kill you to bend a little, for Christ's sake?

-What do you got to lose? -A lot.

- Hold it tight, Webb. - It's tight.

-You're really pushing him, man. -I ain't pushing anybody!

I'm just not backing off!

You wanna hold this, Sweet?

- I'm coming back up. - Great.

-Fall in! -One, two, double.

♪Sound of the men--♪ Get back.

♪Working on the chain--♪

One more. ♪Gang... ♪

Right, left, right, left, right, left.

Right, left, settle down.

Corporal Gessner, my main man. Whoo!

Thank you.

One one-thousand, two one-thousand, three one-thousand.

Get him, Sweet!

Stokes, you asshole.

Left, right, left, right, left, right.

Let's say it. Boy, this boy's got some hands, don't he?

That's the sound-- kick it out.

-Of the chain... -Wait a minute.

Gig for Bean.

Four gigs for Crane.

-Hey, what you got? -Left, right, left, right.

Gig for Webb.

-Gig for Bryce. -Whoa, I did that backwards. Wait a minute.

-Okay, you confusing me. -Gig for Lawrence.

- ♪Oh, don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

Get back.

Hey, man. Guess what. I got some big news.

Our outfit is joining the 105th Airborne

-in Vietnam next month. -No shit.

No shit. The orders came in last night.

The whole camp is talking about it.

-I wonder what they're gonna do with me. -I don't know.

You'll probably just have to catch up with us when you get outta here.

Yeah. I'm thrilled.

-You look different, Bean. -What do you mean?

I don't know. You just look different.

-Good different, bad different, what? -It's very good.

-I gotta go. -What's your hurry, old buddy?

It's Sunday.

-Church service. -What are you doing that for?

-Vietnam what's for, asshole. -Oh, I see.

In case you haven't heard, there's a war going on over there

involving the US Army of which you are a member.

I get the point.

♪Oh, when I come ♪

♪To the end of my journey ♪

♪Weary of life ♪

♪The battle is won ♪

♪Carry my staff ♪

♪The cross of redemption ♪

♪And we'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪We can understand it ♪

- ♪We'll understand it♪ - ♪So much better ♪

- ♪Better by and by♪ - ♪Oh, I know we'll understand it ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

- ♪Better by and by♪ - ♪We will understand it ♪

- ♪We'll understand it♪ - ♪All the pain All the suffering ♪

- ♪Better by and by♪ - ♪Oh, I know, I know we'll understand it ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪Almighty God ♪

♪Give me just A little more time ♪

♪To right all the wrong That I have done ♪

♪Oh, when I come ♪

♪To the end of my journey... ♪

Prisoner, halt.

Left face. Forward, march.

-Gerald. -Yes, Sergeant.

Bring Private Bean up to my office at 1300.

Yes, Sergeant.

-Oh, my ball. Our ball. -No point.

Hey, man. Why you pushing on me?

-Come on. -Shoot the moon.

Two points.

"Sit down, son. Have some chocolates."

"At ease, Private. Help yourself to some candy."

Come in.

-Private Bean reporting. -At ease, Private.

-Come back in 10 minutes, Gerald. -Yes, Sergeant.

-Sit down, Private. -I'd rather stand if it's all the same.

Suit yourself. Now looky here.

We got off on the wrong foot, you and me,

so I figured if maybe we could get a few things straightened out,

we might not have any more problems. How'd that be?

-Sounds fine. -Very good. I'm glad to hear you say that.

Would you like some chocolates?

-No, thanks. -Oh, come on. Don't be shy. Help yourself.

-No, I really don't want any, thanks. -Oh, come on.

All kids like chocolate. It's great for energy.

Yeah, but bad for your teeth.

Maybe you're right.

I realize from your trial record

that your father died recently, is that right?

-Yes, he did. -I'm very sorry to hear that.

So was I.

I also hear your outfit's going over to Vietnam next month.

-So I hear. -How 'bout that?

Jeez, I'd give anything to go to Vietnam.

I saw a lot of action in Korea, did you know that?

Now, of course, because of my age, I'm classified unfit for combat.

Can you imagine that? Bastards.

So how's the work coming on the windmill?

-It's kinda slow, but we're getting there. -Good, I'm glad to hear it.

Although, I want you to know,

I was mighty pissed off at you, son, when you went over my head

and got permission from the colonel himself to fix that old rig,

which brings us to the point.

You are fighting me, Bean.

Every day in every way.

My God, your attitude's even worse now than it was when you first came here

and what I wanna know is why. Just even and direct.

Son, just tell me why, please.

Because you're on me all the time.

I see, and why do you think that is?

-Beats me. -Well, I'm gonna tell ya.

Because I think I got a right to expect more from you.

No, you don't. I'm no different from those guys.

Me and them, we're the same.

I don't like the way you treat them, either.

Come on.

You misinterpret discipline for rough treatment, son.

Not a goddamn one of those bums in there for less than a capital crime.

As for my being "on you,"

how do you think you'd feel if you worked hard all of your life

to be something only to have some young punk kid,

don't know shit from Shinola, tell you he don't think you're worth much?

-How do you think you'd feel about that, huh? -I never said that.

Oh, there you go. See, you're fighting me again.

Goddamn it, can't you see I'm trying to get together with you?

I got a son damn near your age. You didn't know that, did you?

-No. -There you go. See, we got more in common than you think.

We oughtn't be fighting each other, we should be friends.

-I can't. -Say again?

-I can't be your friend. -Aren't I as good as your colored buddies?

You're a bully and I hate everything you stand for.

-Gerald. -Yes, Sergeant.

Escort this prisoner back to the compound before I throw him out the window.

Dismissed.

Move it, Bean.

Son of a bitch.

-I heard that. We want food, man. -Here we go, coming after you.

-Eight times, I make that eight. -Shit, not bad.

- Oh, no! - Fall in on the windmill on the double!

- Hey, come on, come on. - Do it, do it, do it!

- Double time! Get your black asses moving! I'm doing it.

Come on, y'all. Let's do it, let's do it.

We doing it, Gerald. See me doing it?

All right, people. Listen up!

-Gerald. -Yes, Sergeant.

-Gig for Private Lawrence. -Gig for Lawrence.

Get that frizzy Aunt Jemima tablecloth off your head, soldier.

"A directive, Camp Barenfeld's

Work Farm 17, August, 1965.

Gentlemen,

you are hereby ordered

to cease and desist from any further effort whatsoever

to reengage wind machine rig number 35

with any water source for irrigation purposes.

Signed, Colonel Jonathan Davis,

US Army Corps of Engineers, West German Command."

For clarification,

this rig is officially known

as wind machine rig number 35

and it is, once again, completely off-limits.

-Lamar! -Yes, Sergeant.

-Post the order. Gerald! -Yes, Sergeant.

Get these bastards back doing what they're supposed to be doing on the double!

Yes, Sergeant. Okay, you heard the sergeant.

Fall into formation right now.

Webb, get your ass down from there.

Crane, get down here. Get your ass down here.

Bean, Bean, we're all waiting on you. Come on!

Hey, slim. You okay?

I'm all right.

Don't let him get you down, son.

Where the hell do you think you're going, Bean?

I'm warning you, that rig is off-limits.

Get back over here right now!

Webb, get back over here!

I'm warning you! I'll gig you for this, goddamn it!

-I'll gig your black ass forever for this! -You do that, Gerald.

Stokes, that's US Government property!

Give me that back! Bryce, get back over here!

That's a gig for Bryce! Gig for Lawrence!

Goddamn it, get back over here!

Oh, no, you don't, you fat ass! You're not going anywhere!

Let me go! Let me go!

That's a gig! That's a major gig, you son of a bitch!

-Tight? -Tight.

-Stand by to release the vane. -Standing by to release the vane.

Standing by to release the vane.

On your command, Private Bean.

-Release the vane. -Release the vane.

- Release the vane. - Releasing the vane.

- The vane is released. - The vane is released.

The vane is released.

It's moving. She's moving.

Whoo!

All right!

Whoo! We did it!

We did it!

Yes, the wonderfulness of yourself, and yourself.

Corporal Gessner.

All right, Corporal, yes, sir.

What do you think, man?

Wind machine rig number 35 is officially functional.

...Comedian.

Yeah, check it out.

This is an emergency drill.

We'll freeze to death out in our skivvies--

Grab your boots and move your black asses out that door now!

-You heard the man. Move! -Quickly.

Ten-hut!

Good evening, gentlemen.

I said good evening, gentlemen.

Good evening, Sergeant.

Congratulations on your preparedness.

-Yes, Sergeant. -Thank you, Sergeant.

We will continue with this emergency drill as scheduled,

but first,

there are a few disciplinary concerns which must be addressed.

-Gerald. -Yes, Sergeant.

A gig to every man not in uniform.

-Gerald, did you record that? -No.

-What? -Yes.

I mean, I've got it down, Sergeant.

What's the hell's wrong with you, son? You with me or not?

Yes, Sergeant. I'm with you all the way, Sergeant.

Look at your sorry ass.

That's a gig for being out of uniform yourself, you asshole.

-Yes, Sergeant. -You're a disgrace.

-Yes, Sergeant. -Get behind the wheel

of that deuce-and-a-half on the double, you shit for brains!

Yes, Sergeant.

Fall in on the truck on the double!

And move it, move it, move it!

Crane, get your fat ass up there! Move!

Stokes!

Move the goddamn truck!

Fall in on the double!

Move it, move it, move it!

Quickly, quickly!

-Gerald! -Yes, Sergeant.

Take the truck back to camp. Report to your quarters.

Oh, shit. We're in trouble now.

-Say again, Sergeant. -Are you deaf, Corporal?

I said take the truck back to camp. Report to your quarters.

I beg your pardon, Sergeant, but how are you and the men

gonna get back to the camp without the truck?

Don't you ever question

my orders, you snot-faced brown-nose.

I will not tolerate insubordination from anyone in my command.

Now get your ass moving!

Prisoners, ten-hut.

Left face.

Forward, march.

Left, left, left, right, left.

Left, left, left, right, left.

Left, left, left, right, left.

Left, left, left, right, left.

You people can't march worth a shit!

I never met one of your people that could march worth a shit.

- Left, right, left. - I wanna see that shuffle.

-You hear me, Stokes? -Yes, Sergeant.

I wanna see that fancy nigger shuffle

-and I wanna see it now. -Yes, Sergeant.

Soul Patrol. Get back.

Left, left, left.

Left.

Step it out, step it out.

Quick time, march.

Left, right, left, right.

-Move out, move out. -Prisoners, to the rear.

March!

-Left, left. -Tried to pull a fast one on the old Sarge, huh?

Think I don't know what you're up to?

Halt!

Sneaky bastards.

Well, now I've got a little game of my own for you,

so listen up, people.

I'm not gonna repeat the rules. Fall out!

Now here's the deal.

Lots of talk these days about the Negroes getting their freedom.

Well, gentlemen, now's your big chance to make a break for it.

I'm gonna throw this clip over my shoulder, I'm not even going to watch where it lands.

There you go. See that?

So who's it gonna be?

Come on, you chickenshits.

I never met a nigger couldn't run like a rabbit.

What about you, Bean?

Haven't heard a word outta you all night, son.

What do you got to say for yourself?

-Not much. -Say again, Private?

I say not much, Sergeant.

Oh, ho, ho, so now it's Sergeant.

How 'bout that? Front and center, Bean, on the double.

So it appears that we may be back where we started, huh?

It appears so, Sergeant.

So where did we go wrong, son?

Say again, Sergeant?

I really wanna know

where we went wrong, John.

I really don't know what you're talking about, Sergeant.

The hell you don't.

So what good it do ya to fix that old rig?

-It hasn't stopped raining since. -Yeah, I guess you're right.

-Take cover. -Hit the deck!

Sweetbread!

God damn it!

Was ist los, man?

He found the clip.

Look, Sergeant. Sweetbread--

Private Crane wanders off all the time out here.

He's not trying to escape. He doesn't know what he's doing.

-Please, don't shoot him, Sergeant. -Help.

Sweetbread!

Robert Crane, un-ass the rig!

- Spoon, get down! - Shit.

Get that son of a bitch!

He's really trying to kill you, Sweet!

- Bean! - Jesus.

Oh, God.

Somebody fucking help him!

Oh, God!

Sweet.

My man.

Right in the face!

My God.

Sweet...!

Come on, man. Come on.

Looks like you're outta here, Bean.

The CO commuted your sentence.

Come on, guys. Let's go.

I ask you again.

Did Master Sergeant McKinney say anything at all

to the departing prisoner Private Crane during that critical moment?

No, sir, he did not. But I say again for the record--

Thank you, soldier. No further questions, Your Honor.

Very well. You may step down, Corporal Stokes.

Got him on the gallows, Bean.

You said yourself that Master Sergeant McKinney

rarely came to the work farm, isn't that so?

-Yes, sir. -Therefore he wouldn't have known about Private Crane's

unusual behavior of constantly wandering off

and he could've assumed

that Private Crane was in fact escaping, now, isn't that so?

-No, sir. -Now, why are you so certain of that, Private Bean?

Because if he thought he was escaping,

then why didn't he give him a warning?

Why indeed?

Let's, eh... Let's examine that point for a moment,

you and I, Private Bean.

You testified that Master Sergeant McKinney

gave no verbal warning of any kind

-before he fired the first shot, is that correct? -Yes, sir, that is correct.

But I submit to you that he did, in fact,

-say something. -No, sir.

Something of extreme importance at that critical moment.

Something that you, in fact, did hear.

Isn't that so, Private Bean?

Help.

Maybe he--

Tell Colonel Clark, please,

just exactly what it was

that Master Sergeant McKinney said

before he fired the first shot.

Got him on the gallows, Bean.

Got him on the gallows.

He said-- he said, "Help."

Would you kindly speak up, Private Bean?

We--we cannot hear you.

I said...

He said, "Help."

-He said, "Help"? -Yes, sir, but he said it--

-He said, "Help." -Yes, sir, he did.

"Help", before he fired any shot.

Yes, sir, he did, but not the way you're making it sound.

He-- He was sort of talking to himself.

So-- So, Private Bean, then you must have been

right next to Sergeant McKinney when he said, "Help."

Oh, no. No, sir, I was-- I was at least 30 feet away.

Ah, you were then 30 feet away

and you heard him yell, "Help."

He didn't yell it, he just said it.

At 30 feet, Private, it's called a yell.

Colonel Clark, it is obvious that Master Sergeant McKinney

found himself alone and isolated in a desperate, dangerous situation.

He discovers a prisoner who is off-limits.

He calls for help from the five other prisoners.

He is completely ignored.

He then fires seven warning shots.

The prisoner fails to halt. He's left with no alternative.

Prisoners, ten-hut.

Looking mighty white today, slim.

Looks like McKinney's gonna get himself another combat ribbon for killing Sweet.

I'm sorry, man.

Hey, I had to tell the truth.

It was partly my fault. I pushed it.

- Move it! - I should've known he'd do something crazy.

I kept pushing it.

I'm sorry!

Hear me? I'm sorry!

Sorry!

Don't feel bad, son.

You had no choice but to tell the truth.

Otherwise, you would've committed perjury.

And just what is perjury?

-I know how you feel, Private. -No, you don't, Captain.

Hey, man. I'm sorry. They don't wanna see you or anyone.

But I'm going to Vietnam the day after tomorrow.

I told them that, too.

No dice.

All right.

Can you give them this stuff for me

and just tell 'em I said goodbye?

Will do.

Tell Stokes I got his bread.

See ya, man.

Thomas, we got a soldier to see Sergeant McKinney.

- Roger, Jose. - You can pick this up on your way out.

Okay.

Excuse me, Sergeant. You have a visitor.

Private Bean here to see you.

I'll be right outside.

Left, right, left, right.

Left, right, left, right, left, right.

Prisoners, halt!

Half-left, face.

And salute.

Half-right face.

Left, left, left, right, left.

Left, right, left, right.

Column right.

March.

-Hey, no hard feelings, Bean. -Me either, man.

-Good luck in 'Nam. -Thanks, Gerald.

-Watch yourself over there. -I will.

- Was ist los? - Soul Patrol.

- ♪Oh, don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

♪Working on the chain ♪

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪ Oh, don't you know... ♪

Hey, fella.

You forgot something.

All in time, man.

Hey, don't sweat the 'Nam.

Just get with the brothers and they'll look after your ass.

And don't let nobody take nothing from you.

All right.

Be cool, Bean.

You, too, Webb.

♪Working on the chain ♪

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪Oh, don't you know ♪

♪That's the sound of the men ♪

♪Working on the chain ♪

♪Gang ♪

- Three steps to the rear. - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Oh, don't you know♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪Oh, don't you know ♪

♪That's the sound of the men ♪

- ♪Working on the chain♪ - One P.

- For Sweet. - ♪Gang ♪

- Come on now. - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- Private Bean, fall in on the cadence. - ♪Ooh, ahh ♪

- ♪Oh, don't you know...♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

- Get back. - ♪Working on the chain ♪

- One more. - ♪Gang ♪

- ♪Oh, don't you know♪ - ♪That's the sound of the men ♪

- ♪Working on the chain♪ - One P for Sweet.

- ♪Gang♪ - Come on.

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - Two times to the rear.

- ♪Ooh, ahh♪ - ♪Oh, don't you know ♪

- ♪That's the sound of the men♪ - Get back.

- ♪Working on the chain♪ - One more.

- ♪Gang♪ - ♪ Oh, don't you know ♪

♪That's the sound of the men... ♪

♪Lord, you know That I've been bad ♪

♪So there's no use In lying to myself ♪

♪Heavenly Father ♪

♪Please forgive me ♪

♪I really don't want To destroy myself ♪

♪Oh, when I come ♪

♪To the end of my journey ♪

♪Weary of life ♪

♪The battle is won ♪

♪Carry my staff ♪

♪The cross of redemption ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪Lord, sometimes I feel like Samson ♪

♪You know the world Has so many Delilahs ♪

♪Almighty God ♪

♪Give me just A little more time ♪

♪To right all the wrong That I have done ♪

♪Oh, when I come ♪

♪To the end of my journey ♪

♪Weary of life ♪

♪The battle is won ♪

♪Carry my staff ♪

♪The cross of redemption ♪

♪And we'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by and by ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by And by and by ♪

♪We'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪

♪Oh, when I come ♪

♪To the end of my journey ♪

♪Weary of life ♪

♪The battle is won ♪

♪Carry my staff ♪

♪The cross of redemption ♪

♪And we'll understand it ♪

♪Better by and by ♪