Original subtitles

(jet engines roar)

(snoring)

(clock ticking)

(snoring continues)

(ticking continues)

(jet engines roaring)

AAH! AAH!

WHAT'S GOING ON?

OH.

WHAT'S GOING ON?

IT WAS A SPIDER.

(military radio chatter)

WAS THE SPIDER ARMED, MA'AM?

OH. HMM.

***

IT WAS HUGE, A-AND IT TOOK ME BY SURPRISE.

THEY TOOK MY GUN AND SAID I MAY HAVE TO PAY A FINE.

WELL, IT'S SOMETHING TO WRITE HOME ABOUT.

I MEAN, YOU SHOT A SPIDER BUCK NAKED.

I THINK THIS PLACE MIGHT BE GETTING TO YOU, MAJOR.

(Ford) MAJOR GORDON...

FOR BRAVERY, VALOR, YOUR NAKED DETERMINATION,

AND ACTIVE PARTICIPATION IN GROUND SPIDER COMBAT...

I'D LIKE TO AWARD YOU WITH THE SPIDER COMBAT ACTION RIBBON. (camera shutter clicks)

(all laugh) OH, MY GOD.

(cheering, camera shutter clicking) OKAY. OKAY, OKAY.

THANK YOU. THANK YOU. THANK YOU. (cheering continues)

(clicking continues) OKAY. ALL RIGHT, ALL RIGHT, THANK YOU. WHAT...

DON'T MIND ME. AND YOU'LL HAVE TO WEAR THIS FOR AT LEAST A WEEK.

REALLY? DID YOU UPLOAD IT TO YouTube?

NOT YET, NO. (laughs)

(clicking continues)

HEY, I-I'M SORRY. WHO ARE YOU?

SORRY. JESSICA DRAYCOTT. PHOTOJOURNALIST.

THE FOLKS AT HOME ARE GONNA LOVE THIS.

NO, UH, NO, THEY'RE NOT, 'CAUSE YOU'RE NOT GONNA PRINT THIS

IN YOUR SMALL-TOWN PAPER AT MY EXPENSE.

(clears throat) IT'S, UH, "NEWSWEEK," AND IT'S A MAGAZINE.

IS THAT DAMN IRRITATING PHOTOGRAPHER HERE AGAIN?

I THOUGHT I TOLD YOU IF I EVER SEE YOU IN THIS HOSPITAL-- YOU'LL WHAT?

OHH. (man) OOH, WOW.

(man) WHOA.

WELL, THAT'S EMBARRASSING.

(exhales)

THAT'S A NICE MEDAL, MAJOR.

LET'S PLAY DOCTORS. MMM.

MAKE SURE TO WEAR THAT MEDAL TODAY, MAJOR.

YEAH.

OH, AND YOU'RE DOING THE POST-OP DEBRIDEMENT

ON PRIVATE FAULDER'S LEG, RIGHT?

UH, YES. THEY'RE PREPPING THE O.R. AS WE SPEAK.

YEAH, SHE'S GONNA LET ME ASSIST.

ALL RIGHT. I'LL TELL THE COLONEL THAT YOU WON'T BE AT ROUNDS.

YOU, UH, SET UP FOR THE PARTY TOMORROW?

PARTY?

YEAH, THE PARTY.

THE ONE THAT COLONEL MARKS EXPRESSLY ASKED YOU TO ARRANGE

AS THE MORALE OFFICER.

THE ONE THAT YOU SHOULD'VE BEEN WORKING ON

EVER SINCE HE ASKED YOU. OF COURSE.

(mouths word) I DIDN'T FORGET. I WAS JUST JOKING.

UM, I HAVE EVERYTHING UNDER CONTROL. NO WORRIES.

NO WORRIES. MM-HMM.

DO YOU KNOW WHAT HAPPENS TO THE MORALE OFFICER

WHO FAILS TO PROMOTE A PARTY AT FRIDAYS AT 1900 HOURS? THEY'RE ON YOUR BAD SIDE?

NO, THEY'RE ON THE BAD SIDE OF MY BAD SIDE, MAJOR.

OH.

OH, MY GOD. CAN THIS DAY GET ANY BETTER?

NOW I HAVE TO PLAN A FRIGGIN' PARTY?

(laughing)

I'M GONNA HAVE TO STONE SOUP THIS.

STONE SOUP THIS?

WHAT IS THAT, A CANADIAN THING?

YOU READY FOR ROUNDS?

YES, SIR.

THEY SAY IT'S GONNA BE A WEEK BEFORE THEY CAN SEND US

THE REPLACEMENT CIRCUIT FOR THE SCANNER.

A WEEK WITHOUT A SCANNER? YEAH.

ALL RIGHT. LET'S GET THESE ROUNDS STARTED. WHERE'S SIMON?

INDISPOSED. HOW MANY TIMES DOES THIS MAKE?

THE LAST TWO WEEKS, HE'S MISSED FOUR DAYS OF ROUNDS, SIR.

OKAY, PLEASE MAKE SURE HE GETS A SPECIAL INVITATION FROM ME

TO BE PRESENT FOR TOMORROW'S ROUNDS. YES, SIR.

OKAY, FIRST CASE. LIEUTENANT AVERILL RAKINS.

WHO'S IN CHARGE?

THAT'S MY CASE. OKAY, GO.

(panting)

OH, YOU ARE IN SO MUCH TROUBLE.

OH, PROMISES, PROMISES. (laughs)

OH! AH!

LET ME TAKE A SHOWER AT LEAST. I'M STINKY. NO, I LOVE THE WAY YOU SMELL.

MM. MM. WHAT DID I SAY ABOUT THE "L" WORD?

IT'S NOT TO COME WITHIN 100 YARDS OF THIS RELATIONSHIP.

OH, YOU'RE SUCH A GODDESS.

(laughs) I'M ONLY THIS WAY WITH YOU, SIMON.

YOU KNOW THAT I HAVE A HUSBAND AND KIDS AT HOME THAT I ADORE. WHAT?

(laughs)

OH! GOTCHA.

OH, THIS LOOKS NASTY. FLUSH.

(heavy metal music playing)

* AND WE ALL KEEP FALLING DOWN *

* AND THE WORLD KEEPS TURNING ROUND *

YOU A HEAVY METAL ROCKER, SUZY?

I'M A COUNTRY-WESTERN GIRL, MYSELF.

REALLY? YOU GOT A BIG COLLECTION OF MUSIC?

OVER TEN HOURS ON MY iPod.

SUTURE.

YOU KNOW...

THE THEME OF TOMORROW'S PARTY IS WESTERN.

HMM. IT'S GONNA BE GREAT.

THERE'S GONNA BE A CAMPFIRE AND FOOD, DANCING.

ALTHOUGH, YOU KNOW,

I JUST DON'T HAVE THE BEST SELECTION OF MUSIC.

(man) YOU'RE NOT BORROWING THAT MECHANICAL BULL

FROM THE AUSSIES, ARE YOU?

I TRIED TALKING WITH THEM ABOUT IT, BUT YOU KNOW WHAT?

COULDN'T GET ANYWHERE.

WELL, IF YOU LET THEM COME TO THE PARTY,

I'M SURE THEY'D LET US USE IT. FAIR ENOUGH.

BUT THEY ALSO HAVE TO DONATE MONEY TO THE WOMEN'S CLINIC.

TECHNICALLY THAT'S $50 YOU OWE ME FOR THE GOLDEN GLOBES.

HOW COULD YOU BET AGAINST HUGH LAURIE, MAN?

YEAH, OKAY, I MUST ADMIT, I DID LOVE HIM IN "STUART LITTLE."

HEY, DUDE, I JUST GOT THE RECENT EDITION OF "THRASHER."

YOU WANT TO LOOK? DUDE, I'VE GOT TO FIGURE THIS OUT.

MY COMPUTER KEEPS CRASHING.

THERE'S THIS WOMAN...

(chuckles) A WOMAN?

WE'VE BEEN CHATTING ONLINE FOR TWO WEEKS.

SHE WAS GOING TO SEND ME...

SEND YOU?

A PICTURE.

(laughs) OKAY, YOU MEAN A PICTURE?

OR--OR--OR A PICTURE, HUH?

A PICTURE.

(both laugh)

YOU GOTTA CALL TECH SUPPORT FAST, MAN. OH, MAN.

OH, I CAN'T AFFORD THE PHONE TIME. (pagers beeping)

AH.

OH, MAN. DUTY CALLS, MAN. DUTY CALLS.

ALL RIGHT.

HERE. USE MY CARD, OKAY?

IT'S GOT EXTRA MINUTES,

BUT DON'T STAY ON MORE THAN AN HOUR.

5 BUCKS HE'S ON FOR 2 HOURS. THANKS.

(military radio chatter)

(Will) BAY 3. TEAM 4, ARE YOU READY?

(Bobby) LET'S DO THIS. TWO G.S.W.s.

KID'S GOT ONE IN THE SHOULDER AND ONE IN THE ABDOMEN.

B.P.'s 90 OVER 62. PULSE 135 AND THREADY.

(Mehra) SHOULDER BOUND OFF. HUNG 2 LITERS RINGERS.

50 MICs FENTANYL ON BOARD. HEY, SOLDIER. WHAT'S YOUR NAME?

(British accent) PRIVATE GRAHAM BARFORD.

WHAT UNIT ARE YOU FROM?

ROYAL KIRKLEES REGIMENT.

IT'S NICE TO MEET YOU. I'M DR. TRANG. HOW YOU FEELIN'?

NOT GOOD, DOC.

AM I DYING? NOT IF WE CAN HELP IT.

HEARD YOU GOT A SHINDIG GOING ON TOMORROW. YEAH, IT'S GONNA BE FUN.

AND TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.

WE HEARD THERE WERE INSURGENTS HOLING UP IN SANGIN.

WE--WE WERE GOING DOOR TO DOOR-- HEY, HOLD ON...

YOU KNOW, BEN FROM MORTUARY AFFAIRS

SAID HE HAS A GREAT CURRY RECIPE.

YOU CAN'T MAKE CURRY FROM A RECIPE.

YOU MAKE CURRY FROM THE HEART.

LOOK, IF YOU WANT CURRY, I'LL MAKE IT. WELL, I CAN'T PASS ON THAT.

OKAY, I'VE GOT FLUID IN THE LIVER AREA.

GO ON PRIVATE BARFORD. TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED.

ALL HELL BROKE LOOSE. (gasps)

HEY, GRAHAM, WE CAN TALK ABOUT THIS LATER, OKAY?

PERISPLENIC AREA CLEAR.

MOVING TO THE PELVIS.

BLADDER'S EMPTY.

IT'S GONNA BE HARD TO GET A READING.

I-I KIND OF LOST CONTROL DOWN THERE.

DON'T EVEN TRIP, PRIVATE. DR. GORDON DOWN THERE,

SHE SAW A CAMEL SPIDER THIS MORNING,

SOILED HER PANTS. IT WAS THE SIZE OF A SHETLAND PONY.

THEY'RE PRETTY SCARY, MA'AM.

(grunts) (monitor beeping erratically)

(Larry) HE'S IN SHOCK. WE'RE LOSING HIM. REBECCA.

ALL RIGHT, HANG 2 UNITS O NEG, WIDE OPEN.

WE GOTTA GET HIM INTO SURGERY NOW. (Bobby) RIGHT AWAY.

GLAD, HOW ARE THOSE VITALS DOING?

(Glad) VITALS HOLDING. ANYBODY ELSE FEEL PREHISTORIC WITHOUT A SCANNER?

MM-HMM. IF WE HAD A WORKING C.T. SCANNER,

I WOULD'VE BEEN ABLE TO ACTUALLY SEE

WHERE THE BULLET IS.

NOW I'M JUST GONNA HAVE TO SEARCH.

MORE SUCTION, PLEASE.

(Suzy) MM.

THERE IT IS.

DAMN.

WHAT?

IT'S REALLY CLOSE TO THE VENA CAVA.

THAT MAKES ME NERVOUS.

IF THE I.V.C. WAS INJURED, HE'D HAVE BLED OUT BY NOW.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(clatters) HOW MUCH BLOOD?

HE'S GONE THROUGH 12 UNITS OF PURE R.B.C.s.

(beeping continues)

THERE'S NO SEEPAGE.

YEAH, YOU GOT ALL THE BLEEDS. HE'S BEEN UNDER FOR FOUR HOURS.

THIS ISN'T DAMAGE CONTROL. LET'S GET OUT OF HERE.

I THINK YOU'RE GOOD, REBECCA.

OKAY, WE'RE ALL IN AGREEMENT?

(Glad and Bobby) YEAH. ALL RIGHT.

OKAY, I'M GONNA CLOSE HIM UP.

BARFORD'S NUMBERS ARE REALLY CRAPPY.

(man) LOOKING FOR PRIVATE BARFORD.

HE WOULDN'T HAVE LASTED ANOTHER HOUR OF SURGERY.

IT'S A GOOD THING YOU GOT OUT WHEN YOU DID.

(Will) MAJOR, THESE SOLDIERS ARE HERE TO SEE PRIVATE BARFORD.

(British accent) IS HE ALL RIGHT, SIR? HE'S GOOD. JUST FINE.

WE REPAIRED HIS BELLY AND SHOULDER WOUND.

HE LOST A LOT OF BLOOD, BUT HE'S RALLYING. THANK YOU.

MAYBE I SHOULD TAKE A LOOK AT THAT. NAH, IT'S NOTHING, MA'AM.

OH, WELL, I'LL BE THE DOCTOR.

COME ON. LET'S GO TO THE TRAUMA ROOM.

YOU OKAY, SOLIDER?

(British accent) YES, SIR. I COULDN'T BE BETTER.

(jet engines roar)

ALL RIGHT. YOU GUYS STICKING AROUND HERE?

ABSOLUTELY. I WANT TO SEE MY MATE.

OH, IT'S A BIT EARLY IN THE DAY FOR ME.

DOES COLONEL MARKS KNOW THAT YOU HAVE THIS?

OHH.

STEADY, BOY.

AHH.

YOU KNOW, MOST WOMEN ARE LIKE... CALIFORNIA WINES.

THEY'RE AMUSING AND SOMETIMES SURPRISING.

BUT YOU...

YOU'RE LIKE A FINE EUROPEAN WINE--

WELL-AGED...

I BEG YOUR PARDON.

AND FULL-BODIED, WITH SUCH NUANCE

AND COMPLEXITY AND DELICIOUSNESS.

MM.

(helicopter blades whirring)

SO...

HAVE YOU SIPPED FROM THE NEW DOC'S BARREL YET?

NO.

SHE'S NOT REALLY MY TYPE.

SHE'S GOT, YOU KNOW, LIKE A CHIP ON HER SHOULDER,

TOO MUCH TO PROVE.

AH, SHE'S TOO MUCH FOR YOU.

NO, NO, NO. I COULD HAVE HER IF I WANTED TO.

MM. SORRY, SUGAR.

THAT GIRL IS NOT ON YOUR WINE LIST.

(laughs)

I'M FINE, MA'AM.

DID THAT DOCTOR SEND YOU?

'CAUSE I TOLD HIM I WAS FINE.

WANT TO TELL ME WHAT HAPPENED?

DO I HAVE TO?

(Rebecca speaking indistinctly) I MEAN, IS THAT AN ORDER?

YES, MA'AM.

SOMETIMES TALKING ABOUT IT HELPS.

WHAT HAPPENED OUT THERE?

IT'S ALL RIGHT, JENKINS.

IT WAS A ROUTINE DOOR-TO-DOOR,

WHEN ALL OF A SUDDEN, A SNIPER STARTED SHOOTING.

JENKINS FROZE, DIDN'T YOU, SON?

I'D LIKE HIS VERSION, PLEASE.

I'M JUST TRYING TO HELP, MA'AM.

IT'S LIKE HE SAID.

I FROZE, AND THEY HAD TO PULL ME OUT.

CAN I GO NOW?

(engines rumbling)

CARRY ON.

WHAT HAPPENED TO BARFORD?

WE HUNKERED DOWN TILL THE SNIPER RELOADED.

THEN WE RAN TO THE CONVOY.

BARFORD WAS THE LAST ONE. HE GOT HIT.

BARFORD GOT SHOT FROM THE FRONT.

I'M SORRY, MA'AM. I WASN'T CLEAR.

BARFORD WAS THE LAST IN LINE.

I GUESS SOME KID OR LITTLE GIRL GOT SCARED, CRIED OUT.

HE STOPPED, TURNED AROUND. THAT'S WHEN HE GOT SHOT.

KIND OF HEROIC, REALLY.

(helicopter blades whirring)

SIRS.

(taps boots together)

I CAN SEE JENKINS BEING ASHAMED FOR FREEZING,

BUT THERE IS SOMETHING ODD

ABOUT GLEED'S NEED TO COVER FOR HIM.

WELL, MAYBE GLEED WAS PROTECTING HIS MEN?

BUT I COULD SEE THIS KID BEING A HERO.

(monitor beeping erratically) DAMN IT.

B.P. IS 70 OVER PALP.

BELLY'S RIGID.

HE'S BLEEDING INTERNALLY. WE'VE GOTTA GET HIM INTO SURGERY NOW.

(beeping continues)

OKAY? LET'S MOVE.

HOW ARE WE FOR BLOOD?

INFUSER'S READY.

OKAY. LET'S DO THIS. SCALPEL.

YOU'RE ASKING ME IF THE COMPUTER COULD HAVE GOTTEN OVERHEATED?

I'M IN FRIGGIN' KANDAHAR.

IT'S 42 DEGREES CELSIUS IN THE SHADE--

107.6 DEGREES FAHRENHEIT.

DO THE MATH, DUDE.

NO, I CAN'T SEND IN THE HARD DRIVE.

CAN'T YOU JUST SEND ME THE PART?

(receiver clatters) THEY SAID IT MIGHT BE FROM THE HEAT.

THE TRANSISTOR OR THE CAPACITORS MIGHT BE LOOSE.

WELL, THERE'S ONE THING TO DO THEN.

TIME FOR SOME SURGERY.

YOU--YOU GUYS THINK YOU CAN FIX IT?

FIX IT OR BREAK IT.

WOW. THANKS. THIS IS GREAT.

SO WHAT'S YOUR HANDLE?

DON'T TELL ANYONE. I'M KAFCOL.

SHE THINKS I'M A CANADIAN COLONEL IN MY 40s. WAIT, WAIT, WAIT.

YOU DIDN'T TELL HER YOUR NAME WAS COLONEL MARKS, DID YOU?

PLAYING WITH FIRE, MY BOY.

ARE YOU SURE ABOUT THIS?

OKAY.

SCALPEL.

(sighs) TIN ME.

(Rebecca) OKAY, KEEP THAT STEADY.

CLAMPING THE VENA CAVA.

(monitor beeps rhythmically)

(Vans) WE'RE NOT MAKING IT WORSE, ARE WE?

IT WAS DEAD ANYWAY. THIS WAY, WE GOT A CHANCE AT SAVING IT.

(soldering gun sizzles)

NO, I CAN'T SEE THE TEAR. THERE'S TOO MUCH BLOOD.

HANGING ANOTHER ROUND.

(monitor beeps rhythmically)

(exhales) THIS TRANSISTOR'S TRASHED.

WE'RE GONNA NEED A NEW ONE.

OR... SLIGHTLY USED.

THE COPIER. MM. MM-HMM.

5 BUCKS SAYS IT'S GOT THE PERFECT REPLACEMENT.

HUH? (pagers beeping)

DUTY CALLS.

(sighs)

NO. WAIT.

W-WHAT DO I DO?

GET ONLINE. CHECK THE CIRCUIT SPECS FOR THE COPIER.

SEE IF WE CAN CANNIBALIZE IT FOR YOUR PROJECT. AND DON'T BURN YOURSELF.

GET ONLINE? MY COMPUTER IS DEAD.

WHERE IS THE FRIGGIN' TEAR?

B.P. FALLING.

THERE. NEAR THE SPINAL ATTACHMENT. SUTURE.

DAMN BULLET MUST HAVE NICKED THE VEIN, WEAKENED IT,

THEN WHEN WE GOT HIS PRESSURE UP, IT JUST BLEW.

HIS NUMBERS ARE GOING SOUTH. BASE EXCESS DOWN TO MINUS 3--

THEY'RE STILL VIABLE. CLAMP.

B.P. IS DROPPING.

(Rebecca) HANG ANOTHER ROUND. DONE.

DAMN IT. THE SUTURES ARE TEARING.

IT'S LIKE SEWING TISSUE PAPER. CLAMP.

DOCTOR, WHY IS MOST OF MY BLOOD BANK ON THE FLOOR? IT'S AN I.V.C. REPAIR, SIR.

HOW MANY UNITS IN?

40, SIR. WHAT ARE HIS NUMBERS?

B.P. 70 OVER 20. BASE ACCESS DOWN TO A MINUS 5, pH 6.85.

DOCTOR, HE'S NOT GONNA MAKE IT.

NO, HE'S GOT A CHANCE. I'M ALMOST THERE.

REBECCA, STEP AWAY FROM THE TABLE.

YOU NEED TO STOP THIS PROCEDURE.

BUT YOU KNOW I CAN DO THIS.

YOUR SUTURES AREN'T HOLDING. JUST GIVE ME A CHANCE, AND I CAN GET THIS DONE.

I CANNOT DO THAT. SIR, PLEASE.

MAJOR GORDON, I ORDER YOU TO STOP THE SURGERY NOW.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

YOU ARE CONDEMNING THIS BOY TO DIE,

AND THERE IS A CHANCE THAT HE COULD LIVE.

NOT ENOUGH OF ONE TO DRAIN OUR BLOOD BANK.

(beeping continues)

THE SURGERY'S OVER.

(beeping continues)

(door opens)

(sighs)

(door closes)

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(monitor emitting continuous tone)

SCREW THIS.

(tone continues)

***

(speaks inaudibly)

(speaking inaudibly)

(camera shutter clicks)

(indistinct conversations)

(click)

(sighs)

WHAT HAPPENED SINCE I LAST SAW YOU?

YOU SEEM DIFFERENT.

HOW SO?

WHAT, AM I MORE HANDSOME, MORE SEXY,

MORE JE NE SAIS... WHAT?

SADDER. AND YOU'RE DRINKING MORE.

HOW'S YOUR FAMILY? HOW'S YOURS?

YOU KNOW, I CHECKED THE RECORDS.

(grunts) YOU ARE MARRIED.

(sniffs)

(indistinct conversations continue)

SO WHAT'S THIS HUSBAND OF YOURS LIKE?

DOES HE, UM, DOES HE SEE OTHER PEOPLE AS WELL?

I SUPPOSE HE MIGHT.

PEOPLE HAVE SEX FOR ALL SORTS OF REASONS, SIMON.

YOU OF ALL PEOPLE SHOULD KNOW THAT. AND WHO'S CYNICAL NOW?

NOT CYNICAL.

PRACTICAL.

SERIOUSLY, I'M WORRIED ABOUT YOU.

WELL... (sighs) YOU HAVE NOTHING TO WORRY ABOUT, MY DEAR.

(slurps)

(indistinct conversations continue)

(click)

(indistinct conversations) YOU.

YOU SAID WE WERE GONNA RECEIVE OUR NEW SCANNER WITHIN TEN DAYS.

NOW OUR OLD SCANNER IS SHOT TO HELL.

I'M JUST WAITING ON MY CONTACTS IN CANADA.

YOU NEED TO EITHER GET ME A NEW SCANNER

OR THE COMPONENT FOR THE OLD ONE YESTERDAY.

COLONEL, WE HAVE 9-LINERS COMING IN.

MASS CAL, MULTIPLE I.E.D.s,

A DOZEN OR MORE SOLDIERS INJURED, ABOUT AN HOUR OUT.

LOCAL AFGHANS ON A SCHOOL BUS?

HOW MANY ALPHAS AND BRAVOS?

(Marks) AND THEY WANT TO SEND THEM ALL HERE?

ANY CHARLIES?

NO, YOU GOTTA TELL 'EM TO DIVERT TO BASTION.

WE CAN'T HANDLE A MASS CAL. WE GOT NO C.T.

OUR BLOOD BANK IS DRAINED.

SORRY, SIR. DAMN IT, CORDAY.

NOW LET BASTION KNOW

THAT THEY'RE GOING TO RECEIVE AN INCOMING MASS CAL--

ABOUT A DOZEN TROOPS-- ALL RIGHT?

SIR, A SCHOOL BUS HIT AN UNEXPLODED SOVIET ORDNANCE.

BASTION'S OVERFLOWING WITH CIVILIAN CAUSALITIES.

THEY CAN'T TAKE OUR BOYS.

IT'S HERE OR NOWHERE, SIR.

HAVE WILL ORDER A WALKING BLOOD BANK.

YES, SIR.

IF WE DON'T RESTOCK OUR BLOOD SUPPLY, WE'RE SUNK.

(engines rumbling)

(man) ATTENTION, ATTENTION,

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3 FOR BLOOD DONATION.

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3 FOR BLOOD DONATION.

ALL PRESCREENED BLOOD DONORS TO THE OUTPATIENT CLINIC

OF THE ROLE 3 FOR BLOOD DONATION.

(indistinct conversations)

THINK WE CAN FILL A QUARTER OF OUR BANK BEFORE THEY GET HERE?

9-LINERS UPDATE, SIR. E.T.A. 30 MINUTES.

COLONEL MARKS, SIR.

I JUST WANTED TO SAY BEFORE THEY ARRIVE,

REGARDING PRIVATE BARFORD... (cell phone ringing)

THAT I RESPECTFULLY DISAGREE WITH YOUR DECISION, SIR,

AND AFTER WE FINISH TODAY, I AM FILING A FORMAL COMPLAINT.

SO NOTED.

NO. NO. YOU CAN'T JUST LEAVE LIKE THAT.

YOU CANNOT PULL ME OFF OF A SURGERY

WHERE I COULD'VE SAVED A LIFE AND THEN LEAVE

AS IF NOTHING IS WRONG OR NOTHING HAPPENED.

YOU SEEM TO BE FORGETTING, MAJOR...

THAT I MAKE THE IMPORTANT DECISIONS.

NOW I SUGGEST YOU GET READY. (lowered voice) HEY.

WE HAVE A MASS CAL COMING IN, LIMITED BLOOD SUPPLY,

AND NO C.T.

I NEED YOU CLEAR... AND FOCUSED.

ALL RIGHT?

(Graham) ROLE 3 TASK FORCE, KANDAHAR SOUTH.

(jet engines roaring)

YOU HAVEN'T EATEN TODAY.

I'M NOT HUNGRY.

YOU SHOULD REALLY TALK TO MARKS, BECAUSE HE IS OFF HIS ROCKER.

HE'S THE ONE WHO SENT ME TO TALK TO YOU.

(scoffs)

HE PULLS ME OFF OF A SURGERY THAT I HAD COMPLETE CONTROL OF,

AND HE SAYS THAT I NEED A PSYCH EVAL?

WHOA. HE'S SUCH A JERK.

YOU'RE THE MORALE OFFICER. MAKE A PARTY.

OH, COME ON. HE'S JUST TRYING TO PUNISH ME.

MAYBE HE'S TRYING TO HELP YOU.

WELL, I DON'T NEED ANYBODY'S HELP. I DISAGREE.

YOU HAVEN'T BEEN SLEEPING WELL.

BECAUSE YOU SNORE LIKE A WARTHOG.

(chuckles) YOU'VE BEEN SKIPPING MEALS.

(helicopter blades whirring)

OKAY. ALL RIGHT.

(mouth full) MMM. MM-HMM. THERE. OKAY?

(sighs)

HAPPY?

YOU KNOW WHO ARE THE WORST AROUND HERE, REBECCA?

(sighs) THE ONES WHO THINK THEY CAN DO IT ALONE,

WHO KEEP SAYING THEY'RE FINE.

IF YOU HAVEN'T NOTICED,

THIS ISN'T A PLACE WHERE PEOPLE ARE FINE.

IF YOU'RE FINE AFTER WHAT YOU'VE JUST EXPERIENCED,

THERE IS SOMETHING QUITE WRONG.

(engines rumbling, helicopter blades whirring)

OKAY.

I-I AM A LITTLE OFF MY GAME.

THIS WHOLE LIMITED RESOURCES-- I AM NOT USED TO IT,

SO JUST GIVE ME A FEW DAYS, AND I WILL BE...

I WILL BE COPING BETTER.

WELL, IF YOU DON'T WANT MY HELP,

START COPING WITH THIS.

STOP BEING RIGHT ABOUT PRIVATE BARFORD.

IT ONLY MAKES YOU ANGRY, AND BEING ANGRY

MAKES YOU STUPID, AND WE DON'T NEED A STUPID SURGEON.

OH, AND ANOTHER THING.

WEAR YOUR SPIDER MEDAL.

THAT'S AN ORDER.

(chuckles)

EAT UP.

(scoffs)

(door opens)

(camera shutter clicking)

I'M SORRY. IS THIS ALL RIGHT WITH YOU?

YEAH, SURE. HEY, WHATEVER GETS US MORE SUPPORT, RIGHT?

SO HOW LONG YOU HERE FOR?

OH, JUST TILL TOMORROW MORNING. I PROMISE.

AH, DR. TRANG. HAIL-FELLOW-WELL-MET.

YOU RUN AN EXCELLENT WALKING BLOOD BANK.

THOSE COOKIES ARE FOR THE DONORS.

YEAH, DELICIOUS. I HEARD YOU MADE THEM.

WELL, I CAN'T DONATE. I'M A DOCTOR.

I'LL PROBABLY BE ON MY FEET FOR THE NEXT 24 TO 48 HOURS

SAVING SOME POOR BUGGER'S LIFE,

SO DON'T I DESERVE A COOKIE?

STOP EATING THE COOKIES.

MWAH.

(kisses)

(laughs) I DON'T GET IT. I REALLY DON'T.

YOU KNOW, LIKE, HOW DO YOU GET SO MANY WOMEN?

YOU STEAL COOKIES FROM THE DONORS, YOU DRINK,

YOU LIE, YOU TREAT WOMEN LIKE CRAP.

YOU'RE A MISOGYNIST AND A COOKIE THIEF.

COME HERE.

(clears throat)

LET ME TELL YOU SOMETHING ABOUT WOMEN.

(laughs) OKAY.

SEE... WOMEN,

THEY WANT TO BELIEVE THAT THEY ARE RIDING

THE WILDEST HORSE THAT THEY CAN TAME.

(laughs)

THEY WANT STALLIONS, AND STALLIONS ARE NOT NICE.

WOMEN...

PEOPLE DESERVE RESPECT.

OH, YES, IN FRIENDSHIP.

NOT IN SEX.

SEE, WOMEN ARE NOT INTO GELDINGS.

YOU ALWAYS SPEAK IN METAPHORS? AH, BOBBY.

I MEAN, I MAY BE A WORLD-RENOWNED NEUROSURGEON,

BUT BEHIND THESE BABY BLUES... IS A DOUCHE BAG?

IS A POET AT HEART. (laughs)

(indistinct conversations)

IF YOU WANT ME TO BRING THE MUSIC TOMORROW,

SAY THE WORD. THANK YOU.

(camera shutter clicks)

(click)

OKAY. I GIVE.

WHY DO YOU KEEP TAKING PICTURES OF ME?

YOU'RE AN INTERESTING SUBJECT.

(indistinct conversations continue)

WHAT'S THIS?

PEOPLE HAVE A WAY OF LOSING THEMSELVES IN THIS PLACE.

YOU CAN THANK ME LATER.

(military radio chatter)

(whirring)

YES, SIR, THE TRANSFER TO KABUL WENT OUT ON TIME.

BURNS AND FRACTURES, SIR.

CHILDREN'S HOSPITAL IN KABUL.

(whirring continues)

ROGER THAT, SIR.

WHAT HAVE I SAID ABOUT USING THESE COMPUTERS?

SORRY, SIR. I--

NEXT TIME YOU CONTINUE TO DISOBEY MY ORDERS,

YOU'LL BE OUT OF A JOB. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

YES, SIR.

DO YOU UNDERSTAND?

I'M VERY SORRY, SIR.

(military radio chatter)

(Marks) YOU ALLOWED HIM TO DO THIS? SIR, I WAS JUST--

WRONG ANSWER. MASS CAL E.T.A.?

TEN MINUTES. SORRY, SIR. I WAS JUST--

NO, NOT NOW.

(siren wailing)

HOW MANY DID THEY SAY? I HEARD TEN.

(Suzy) SO DID I. (Will) IT'S GONNA BE AN ALL-NIGHTER.

I'VE BEEN THINKING ABOUT THE WHOLE BARFORD SITUATION,

RIGHT, AND SOMETHING'S JUST REALLY OFF.

LOOK, I'M YOUR FRIEND,

BUT I THINK MARKS MADE THE RIGHT CALL.

NO. NO, NO, NO. ABOUT--

THE STORY ABOUT HIM TURNING AROUND TO SAVE THE GIRL.

I MEAN, THE ANGLE OF THE BULLETS ARE JUST ALL WRONG.

DO YOU THINK?

THERE'S ONLY ONE WAY WE CAN KNOW FOR SURE.

FIND THE BULLET I TOOK OUT OF HIM,

AND IF IT'S NATO ORDNANCE,

THEN WE KNOW HE WAS SHOT BY ONE OF HIS OWN.

OKAY, EVERYONE TO THEIR STATIONS.

(helicopter blades whirring, sirens wailing)

ALL RIGHT, DO WE HAVE ENOUGH BLOOD?

I HOPE TO GOD.

(whirring continues)

4!

READY, TEAM 4?

YEAH, GIVE ME 30 SECS. FOLLOW ME. BAY 3, LET'S GO.

(woman) SIR, I NEED TO ASK YOU JUST A FEW QUESTIONS--

WATCH YOURSELF. WATCH YOURSELF.

(Ford) COMING THROUGH! (Will) JUST PARK IT RIGHT HERE. OKAY, YOU, FOLLOW ME.

CHECK HIS AIRWAY AND THEN HE'S GOOD TO GO.

(Mehra) CAPTAIN, SHRAPNEL TO THE FACE AND ARMS.

EYE ISN'T LOOKING GOOD. LOST A FINGER.

B.P. 135 OVER 95, PULSE 140 BUT STRONG.

MORPHINE AND FLUIDS ON BOARD. STEADY, YOU TWO. COME ON. LET'S GO.

LET'S GET THAT E.C.G. OVER HERE. (Bobby) MORE COMING IN, HUH?

WAIT FOR THE SUMMER. IT'LL ONLY GET WORSE.

(Larry) BREATH SOUNDS BILATERALLY.

OKAY, GET HIM INTO THE I.C.U.

AND THEN MOVE HIM TO THE O.R. WHEN REBECCA'S FREE. NEXT.

WELCOME TO KANDAHAR. CAN I GET YOU A SODA AND FRIES?

COMING UP, SOLDIER.

OKAY, LARRY, LET'S HANG, UH, TWO LARGE-BORE I.V.s

AND GET ME A SET OF VITALS.

WE'LL GET YOU FIXED UP AND OUTTA HERE IN NO TIME, SOLDIER.

HOW ARE WE ON BLOOD? THIS IS OUR LAST UNIT.

(man) B.P. IS DROPPING.

(Christine) GOT TWO MORE UNITS WHOLE BLOOD

FROM THE BLOOD DRIVE.

IT'S JUST IN TIME.

SO THE GUYS ON K.P. WANT TO KNOW,

IF THEY BRING MORE FOOD AND DRINKS,

CAN THEY COME TO YOUR PARTY?

OH, YEAH. WHATEVER. YEAH, THEY CAN COME.

(man) PULSE 82.

B.P. STABLE, 110 OVER 70.

GREAT.

(monitor beeping rhythmically)

(engine rumbling)

(Australian accent) EXCUSE ME, SIR.

GOT A DELIVERY FOR A REBECCA GORDON.

YEAH, I'LL DEAL WITH IT.

JUST, UH, BRING IT AROUND THE CORNER.

(men) SIR! MORNING.

SIMON, IT'S BEAUTIFUL.

IT'S HANDWOVEN BY THE BEST.

SIMON...

FIND SOMEONE TO TALK TO.

SOMETHING'S EATING AT YOU.

AND YOU WON'T FIND SOLACE IN A BOTTLE.

(jet engines roaring)

GONNA MISS YOU.

TILL NEXT TIME.

KEEP YOUR LENSES CLEAN.

IF YOU KEEP YOUR SCALPEL SHARP.

(laughs)

(helicopter blades whirring)

MAJOR.

WHERE'D YOU EXPECT TO PLUG IN THAT MECHANICAL BULL? (water running)

THAT PIECE OF MACHINERY TAKES UP A LOT OF WATTAGE.

(jet engines roaring)

I WAS THINKING THE C.T. ROOM NOW THAT THE C.T.'s DOWN.

AND YOU KNOW YOU CAN'T HAVE A CAMPFIRE

OUTSIDE THE READY ROOM.

YEAH, UM, ABOUT THAT. SEE, IT'S NOT SO MUCH A CAMPFIRE

AS IT IS A FIRE IN AN OIL DRUM.

I MEAN, I WOULD LOVE TO STAGE IT ON THE MAIN GROUNDS,

BUT I ONLY HAD FOUR DAYS NOTICE AND...

AND YOU DON'T KNOW THE RIGHT CHANNELS TO GO THROUGH.

OH, WELL, I MEAN,

I DOUBT ANYBODY COULD GET THAT SPACE THIS SOON.

YOU PLAYING ME, DOCTOR?

WHAT'S GOOD FOR THE MORALE...

OKAY.

I'LL GET YOU YOUR CAMPFIRE AND YOUR SPACE.

YOU GOOD FOR FOOD OR ANY OTHER ESSENTIALS?

I WILL BE BY THE END OF THE DAY.

ALL RIGHT.

DR. GORDON.

YES.

WHAT, THAT'S IT? I GET IT BACK? NO TRIAL?

IT WASN'T AN ACCIDENTAL DISCHARGE, MA'AM.

YOU SHOT A SPIDER.

(clicks)

WHY, THANK YOU.

(indistinct conversations)

THE C.T. TECH SAID HE SAW VANS RUNNING FROM THE ROOM,

AND HE WENT INSIDE, HE FOUND THIS.

CHECK OUT THE BACK.

(indistinct conversations)

WHAT THE HELL?

THE TECH WAS WORRIED, SO HE CHECKED OUT THE SCANNER.

IT'S WORKING NOW.

FOUND A SOLDERING GUN, CIRCUIT SPECS,

AND A BURNT-OUT TRANSISTOR. SON OF A...

VANS FIXED THE SCANNER?

HE'S ONLY 17. WHERE IS HE?

(chuckles) HE TOOK OFF. WELL, FIND HIM.

AND LET EVERYONE KNOW THE C.T.'s OPEN FOR BUSINESS.

(chuckles)

(Bobby) THIS IS NOT GOOD.

NO, IT'S A COALITION BULLET. BARFORD WAS SHOT BY HIS OWN.

THAT "WHOLE TURNING AROUND TO SAVE A GIRL" WAS A LIE.

YEAH, AND I BET YOU IT WAS GLEED,

AND PRIVATE JENKINS KNOWS ABOUT IT.

(jet engines roaring)

VANS. (door opens)

COME ON IN. (door closes)

SIT DOWN.

I'M GLAD YOU CAME.

SO WHO TAUGHT YOU HOW TO FIX A C.T. SCANNER?

SERGEANTS P.J. FORD AND P.J. MEHRA

TAUGHT ME HOW TO FIX MY COMPUTER.

YOUR COMPUTER'S BROKEN? THE ONE THAT I GAVE YOU? NOT ANYMORE.

AND THEN I THOUGHT, IF I COULD FIX THE COMPUTER--

VANS, USUALLY I DO THIS IN FRONT OF A LOT OF PEOPLE,

BUT I DON'T WANT THE OTHER INTERPRETERS

TO GET JEALOUS,

'CAUSE I KNOW HOW HARD IT IS FOR YOU TO BE DOING THIS

AT SUCH A YOUNG AGE.

BASHIR AL-ADEEB, ALSO KNOWN AS VANS...

IN HONOR OF THE GREAT SERVICE YOU PERFORMED FOR US

AND THE MANY INJURED SOLDIERS WHO WERE HELPED,

I AM PROUD TO PRESENT TO YOU

THIS CANADIAN FORCES COMMENDATION.

CONGRATULATIONS, VANS.

THANK YOU, SIR.

ONE MORE THING.

DO NOT USE MY NAME AS YOUR ONLINE IDENTITY!

YES, SIR. (jet engines roaring)

OKAY.

(door opens)

YOU TWO NEED SOMETHING?

PRIVATE BARFORD WAS SHOT BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

WHO DO WE REPORT THIS TO?

JUST LET INTELLIGENCE HANDLE IT.

WHAT WILL THEY DO? PROBABLY NOTHING.

WHAT?

NO, THE PERSON WHO SHOT HIM NEEDS TO BE HELD RESPONSIBLE.

SOMETIMES THINGS HAPPEN IN THE HEAT OF THE MOMENT.

WHAT KIND OF A PLACE IS THIS?

(Bobby) REBECCA-- NO.

REBECCA. (Will) JUST LET HER GO.

REBECCA, I HEAR THE PARTY'S SHAPING UP PRETTY WELL.

THIS IS WHAT WE PULLED OUT OF PRIVATE BARFORD.

HE WAS SHOT BY HIS OWN TROOPS.

I UNDERSTAND YOUR CONCERN.

NO, TRY OUTRAGE.

HIS SERGEANT IS MAKING UP SOME COCKAMAMY STORY,

AND IF YOU ASK ME, I THINK HE'S THE ONE WHO DID IT.

JUST LEAVE IT WITH ME.

BUT... NO, WHY IS EVERYBODY TRYING TO COVER THIS UP?

I-I-I DON'T UNDERSTAND.

BARFORD DIED, AND HE WAS KILLED BY ONE OF HIS BUDDIES,

ONE OF HIS OWN TROOPS KILLED HIM.

NO, MAJOR. ONE OF HIS TROOPS DID NOT KILL HIM. I DID.

NOW I'M GONNA TAKE THAT BACK FOR YOU,

'CAUSE IF INTELLIGENCE FINDS OUT YOU STOLE IT,

YOU'LL BE IN TROUBLE,

AND I ALREADY CALLED IN A MARKER

TO BAIL YOU OUT FOR DISCHARGING YOUR WEAPON.

I DON'T THINK I COULD HELP YOU TWICE IN ONE DAY.

ANYTHING ELSE?

NO, SIR.

(jet engines roaring)

(door closes)

(Jim Croce's "I Got a Name" playing)

HE'S IN YOUR OFFICE.

THANKS.

(Mehra and Ford) * MOVIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

* ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

* MOVIN' AHEAD SO LIFE WON'T PASS ME BY *

NO, NO.

YOU CAN RHYME. ALL RIGHT. (laughs)

* LIKE THE NORTH WIND WHISTLIN' DOWN THE SKY *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

(man) WHOO!

* LIKE THE WHIP-POOR-WILL AND THE BABY'S CRY *

OH... AND CRASH.

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

* I'VE GOT A SONG *

WHOA. OH!

(laughs)

(laughs)

BLESS HIS BULL. (laughs)

* IF IT GETS ME NOWHERE *

REBECCA REALLY PULLED IT TOGETHER.

WHERE IS SHE?

I DON'T KNOW.

* ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY, ROLLIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

AT EASE.

* ...LIFE WON'T PASS ME BY *

YOU WERE WITH GRAHAM BARFORD.

YES, SIR. I...

SO WHAT HAPPENED WITH YOU AND GRAHAM AND SERGEANT GLEED?

(knock on door)

***

PLEASE, SIR. A WORD, IF I MAY.

***

PLEASE, SIR. I KNOW I SHOULDN'T ASK,

BUT BARFORD AND JENKINS WERE BEST MATES.

IT'S TOUGH ENOUGH KNOWING YOUR BEST FRIEND IS GONE.

JENKINS IS A GOOD SOLDIER. HE IS A GOOD LAD, SIR.

IT WAS NOT HIS FAULT.

YOU KNOW HOW CRAZY IT CAN GET OUT THERE.

IT'S HIS FIRST TOUR.

THEY WERE ALL CONFUSED.

PLEASE, SIR, AS HIS SECTION COMMANDER,

IT'S ON ME, NOT HIM.

(jet engines roaring)

***

(Ford and Mehra) * THEY CAN CHANGE THEIR MINDS *

* BUT THEY CAN'T CHANGE ME *

(jet engines roaring)

(Pedersen) HI.

HEY. YOU'RE MISSING YOUR PARTY.

NO, UM... (clears throat)

I PLANNED IT. DOES NOT MEAN I HAVE TO GO TO IT.

CAN I PLEASE HAVE SOME PRIVACY?

YEAH.

BY THE WAY, YOU, UH,

YOU NEVER EXPLAINED THE MEANING OF THE STONE SOUP.

OH.

IF I TELL YOU, WILL YOU LEAVE?

* MOVIN' ME DOWN THE HIGHWAY *

FAIR ENOUGH.

PRIVATE...

WHAT HAPPENED?

* ...WON'T PASS ME BY *

I HEARD SNIPER SHOTS.

I FELT ONE OF THEM WHIZZING BY ME,

LIKE A CRACK BY MY HEAD.

I DIDN'T KNOW WHERE THEY WERE COMING FROM.

I SAW PEOPLE RUNNING EVERYWHERE.

I KNOW SERGEANT GLEED SAYS I SHOULDN'T BLAME MYSELF.

BUT EVERYTHING WAS JUST SO CRAZY.

I SAW SOMEBODY RUNNING AT ME, AND I THOUGHT...

I THOUGHT... YOU FIRED.

(exhales)

SON, YOU SHOULD KNOW THE BULLET WENT WIDE.

WHAT?

YOUR SERGEANT WAS CONCERNED YOU MIGHT BE BLAMING YOURSELF,

SO WE CHECKED THAT BULLET THAT KILLED BARFORD.

IT CAME FROM AN AK-47.

YOU'RE NOT LYING, SIR?

PRIVATE, I'M A COLONEL IN THE CANADIAN ARMED FORCES.

I DON'T LIE ABOUT THESE THINGS.

IT WENT WIDE? I-I DIDN'T SHOOT HIM?

IT WAS AN AK-47 BULLET, SERGEANT. NOT ONE OF OURS.

(Marks) THAT'S RIGHT. YOU DIDN'T SHOOT BARFORD.

YOU DIDN'T SHOOT YOUR GOOD FRIEND. THANK YOU, SIR.

(sniffles) THANK YOU.

ATTENTION.

NOW YOU TAKE IT EASY.

I KNOW YOU JUST LOST A GOOD FRIEND.

ALL RIGHT?

THANK YOU, SIR. I DON'T KNOW WHAT--

AH, GO. IT'S BEEN A LONG DAY.

(Rebecca) THERE'S A-A FAMINE GOING ON,

AND A TRAMP COMES INTO TOWN, STARVING.

SO HE ASKS THE VILLAGERS FOR FOOD, BUT THEY ALL TURN AWAY

BECAUSE NO ONE HAS ANYTHING TO SPARE.

SO HE PULLS OUT A COOKING POT, STARTS A FIRE,

FILLS THE POT WITH WATER, AND PUTS A STONE IN IT.

I THINK YOU LOST ME ALREADY.

SO SOON, ALL THE VILLAGERS

ARE COMING BY TO SEE WHAT HE'S DOING,

AND HE SAYS, "WELL, I'M MAKING STONE SOUP.

"AND IT'S GONNA BE DELICIOUS.

BUT DO YOU KNOW WHAT WOULD MAKE IT BETTER?"

REAL SOUP?

***

MEAT. HE SAID MEAT WOULD MAKE IT BETTER.

SO ONE GUYS SAYS, "WELL, IF I BRING MEAT

TO ADD TO YOUR SOUP, CAN I HAVE SOME?"

AND THE TRAMP SAYS, "YES."

SO PRETTY SOON ALL THE VILLAGERS ARE VOLUNTEERING THINGS

TO ADD TO THE SOUP SO THAT THEY CAN HAVE SOME.

GET IT? EVERYONE GETS TO EAT

AND THE TRAMP GETS A FREE MEAL.

THAT'S A LOVELY STORY.

IT'S GREAT. I MEAN, IT'S ALL ABOUT GREED AND DECEPTION BUT...

I THOUGHT IT WAS ABOUT

HOW A GROUP OF PEOPLE WITH VERY LITTLE

COULD PULL TOGETHER AND MAKE SOMETHING QUITE WONDERFUL.

***

I AM JUST NOT FEELING

THE "GLASS IS HALF FULL" RIGHT NOW.

SO...

***

(men and women laughing and speaking indistinctly)

(grunts)

COULD YOU GET OUR GAL A-A DRINK, CAPTAIN?

***

(people cheering and speaking indistinctly)

(man) WHOO!

***

(door closes)

(cries)

(cheering)

***

(cheering continues)

(indistinct conversations)