Original subtitles

15 February, 1972.

New orders - survivor assistance officer,

escorting the body of a lieutenant back home - a tough but brief duty.

I'm not sure I'm very good at this. Rockville! >

especially in this case - I never even knew the man.

Yes, ma'am.

What can I say to his family?

What can I do that will make any difference?

All aboard! >

mr and mrs Johnson? Yes. I'm major Laird,

the survivor assistance officer.

I've brought your son home.

The army extends its deepest sympathy for the loss of your son.

His country is eternally grateful for his sacrifice.

I'm here to do whatever I can to help you.

If you want a military burial with full honours...

Thank you. We want to keep it simple.

When do you plan to have the funeral?

Today.

Today? At noon.

Amen.

Praise be to god...

For the power of music,

to be able to lift our voices

above the sorrow of this moment.

We've said a lot about Dwyte Johnson here, this morning.

We all know deeds, more than words, make the difference in this world.

You know where the funeral is,

you know that you are all invited.

I hope to see you there.

Dwyte...

Was killed in war.

Let us go out of here,

in the spirit of love and peace.

Amen.

Pall-bearers.

< all rise, please.

< proceed out.

You must be the officer Ada told me about. Yes, ma'am, I'm major Laird.

Eudora McAlister, a family friend.

I'm driving them to the cemetery. Would you care to come with us? Thank you. My car's out in front.

Mrs McAlister. >

mrs McAlister. What... What is going on here?

A funeral. Just as I told you.

You told me it was a friend. Dwyte Johnson is a friend.

Dwyte Johnson. That boy can't be buried here! It's their plot.

We own it legal.

Mrs McAlister, did you really give a gravesite to these folks?

No. < We bought it.

Fair and square. How much d'you pay for it? >

it's private property, mr oster.

Our son died for his country, and has a right to be buried in any part of it.

Any part but right here.

­ Luther, Ada, you've got a nice casket there.

Why don't you bury Dwyte where he belongs?

People belong where they want to be, not where they're told to be.

Dwyte loved this place, and he loved this town in spite of everything.

He deserves to be buried right here.

Look, I'm sure we can work this out.

I'll call my commanding officer.

We don't need any federal intervention. This is a local affair.

Let me read you something.

"Within the city limits of rockville, Georgia,"

"burial is limited to the Caucasian race, or their ashes thereof."

Now, folks, that's the law, I'm sorry, and I'm here to enforce it.

So, let's take the casket and put it back on the hearse.

How can you do that to these people?

They are as much a part of rockville as anybody.

You're a good one to talk about rockville!

You're gonna ruin this town!

I think this has gone far enough.

Let's move on before this turns into something ugly.

Something ugly!

What would you call this?!

Bell rings

I'm sorry if this turn of events took you by surprise, major.

We had to try it directly

without telling any more people than necessary.

This won't be solved overnight. How long are you here for? Three or four days,

but I'll stay as long as necessary.

What do you want me to do now, Ada?

Could we keep him at the church for a spell? Sure. We'll take care of him.

Really enjoyed that and I wanna catch you for lunch some day, ok? Ok.

Enjoyed talking to you.

Excuse me, chief.

I'd like to talk to you about today. There's not too much to say, major.

What do you want? I'd like your help in getting lt Johnson buried in that cemetery. Can't do that.

So, his body is just supposed to hang in limbo?

The place for him is about five miles out of town with his own people.

Out of town?

Don't blame me. It began long before my time. I just keep the peace here.

Take a look around, this is a good town with good people.

I watched Dwyte grow up here.

I know what you're thinking, and rightly so. It isn't the best end,

but, unfortunately, he died before this town was ready for this.

Maybe if he'd lived a little longer...

A little longer! This is the 1970s!

Our schools are integrated and our people get along,

maybe not perfectly, but they get along ok.

I got things I gotta take care of.

I did call my commanding officer.

The army won't rest until it Johnson gets his due.

The army might do better by putting that boy in a veteran cemetery.

This was his home. His parents want him here! I'm sorry.

You could go to court over this, you know that? That could take years.

Do you want his parents to wait that long before they can lay him to rest? Do you?

I can't help you, sir. You tried, you did your duty.

Won't you let it drop?

And that's the limit to what the army can do?

After that it goes to the us attorney, right?

Ok. Thank you for the information.

Yeah.

Milk or sugar, major? A little milk, please.

I had that book out earlier.

That boy left us a lot of memories.

You must have been very proud of him.

Mrs Johnson...

When I first realised what you and your husband were trying to do...

I must admit I was a little surprised,

but my orders were to render all reasonable assistance.

I'm still here to do that...

Even though it's taking a little longer than normally.

But...

Well, I've come to see what you're up against here.

On top of all your grief, are you sure you wanna take this on?

All my grief?

I don't know yet how much grief's in me.

How many tears.

I thought I used them all up on that first night, but I didn't.

For the rest of my life I may not reach the bottom of that river.

But my grief, my husband's...

Is no excuse not to do the right thing.

You said you had no children?

Er, no, ma'am... not yet.

I hope you do.

They're a blessing.

They're such a blessing.

Some folks, they're ready for that kind of thing, but I wasn't.

Everything Dwyte did was such a surprise -

walking early, talking of blues street,

and playing ball like that.

And bringing home those grade cards.

Mr Johnson and I went to school,

but we ain't never brought home no grades like that.

He was a wonderment.

You know, sometimes we'd sit and try to figure out where he'd got it all from.

What great-grandma or grandpa had that kind of a mind.

And when you've got a child like that,

sometimes you don't even feel like you're the mother, you feel like...

You brought a gift to the world.

A message.

Even you yourself don't understand it - not all of it.

And now he's dead.

I think I can say that now.

But he's not gone.

Not unless... they take him out of this town.

A town he brought honour to.

It would be like turning time around and saying he was never here at all.

And we can't do that, major Laird.

So, no matter...

What the grief, or how much trouble...

We just can't do that.

D'you read this editorial, Jo?

Clifford, you know I don't read it until I get you clowns out of here.

It's about that cemetery incident.

Listen to this. "A white woman owning a plot in the town cemetery"

"evidently donated it to the Johnson family..."

Now, who do you suppose that is? Never guess in a million years.

"Leading them to the false hope of burying their son there."

False is right.

D'you want anything else? No thanks.

Do you know where I can get a paper, though?

Great. People like that deserve what comes to 'em.

And what is that? What?

What's coming to 'em.

You defending this nonsense, Henry?

No, no. But I'm not going to attack it, either.

The way I see it, the only way to get what you want is to go for it.

They get those ideas from outsiders,

or from kooks like er...

Eudora McAlister.

Everything all right? Just fine, thanks.

But how can you say that I used his casket as a political football?!

I have to. Sam Jennings, we've known each other for 50 years.

You know I'm not a political person, I'm not a "joiner".

You belong to the "odd-balls of the world" party.

You may even be vice-president.

What's so odd about helping friends? Helping your friends?

Or are you using them to make a point?

Listen, I thought long and hard before giving them that extra plot,

because I knew how people like you would interpret it.

I have to interpret it. It's my job to give people some perspective!

Do you remember what it was like in the south in the '60s?

Remember those mobs, the violence?

The girl blown up in a church?

It didn't happen here. This town got through it all right.

Get through it? We didn't get through anything,

if someone like Dwyte Johnson can't even be buried here.

My god, eudora! You... measure the world from perfection downward.

Well, I don't.

I measure it from chaos upward. That's the difference.

If you don't like my paper, why not start your own? You'd be good at it.

I don't want to start a newspaper.

I don't even want to read one for a while - especially yours.

You can cancel my subscription.

Again?

What's wrong? What happened to you?

I remember young Sam Jennings, the idealist.

Yeah, I remember that.

That was a long time ago, eudora.

Mrs McAlister! Are you going to see the editor, too? Yes, ma'am.

I wish I could believe it would do some good!

Did you want to see me?

I'm Sam Jennings. I'm major Kendall Laird, survivor assistance officer.

I'm here to help the Johnsons with the burial of their son.

And I suppose you're here to give me a piece of your mind, too.

Sit down, major, and go ahead.

I just saw mrs McAlister leave here looking mad as a cat.

My guess is she's pretty upset about this editorial of yours.

I didn't mention her by name. You don't have to in a town this size.

Eudora and I go back a long time, major.

And over those years we've had our differences - public and private.

But I have to say she has survived them pretty well.

I'm not worried about her. But what about the Johnsons?

Is this fair to them?

It's not a question of fairness.

It's a question of timing, the speed... Mr Jennings, this is 1972.

Integration has been the law of the land for 15 years now.

It may be the law of the schools, but we're talking about cemeteries.

Where we bury our families. And that is a very personal thing here.

Don't you think it's a personal thing to the Johnsons?

They deserve better than this.

Yes, maybe they do.

But don't let this incident give you the wrong idea about our town.

Look... mr Jennings,

I can see you care a lot about this town. Let me ask you a question.

What picture flashes into your mind

when I mention little rock, Arkansas?

You saw it, didn't you?

The photo of the little black girl clutching her books out of fear,

being escorted into school by armed soldiers.

Do you want rockville to be remembered like that?

No, I don't. But...

If you don't want a demonstration or a supreme court case,

you should give equal space in your paper for Dwyte Johnson.

His men have put him up for a silver star...

For saving their lives.

Are those white boys? Most of them, yes.

Isn't that a hook for your story?

If it's a story, yes. If it's a sermon, no.

Can you... get to those men?

Me?

You're the journalist, mr Jennings.

Don't worry about that, major.

You bring me hard information, and I'll write the story.

Do you mean that? Damn right.

And I'll print it. Fair and square.

It's a deal.

Colonel holme, your original assignment was a routine matter,

but it's turned into real... well, a very uncertain situation.

I want to help, but I don't know what to do.

There just don't seem to be any guidelines.

What are the feelings in the town?

I don't know exactly, sir.

Seem to be people on both sides.

The local editor wants to interview those who put him up for the medal.

Is this so your activity doesn't stir up more controversy? No, sir.

In doing right, the army's got to be concerned about community relations.

Rockville's just 60 miles away.

I'm very conscious of that, sir. But the Johnsons are very determined.

But you must proceed with caution. Yes, sir. Keep in touch.

Thank you, sir.

Range clear on the left?!

Range clear on the right?!

The range is now clear!

Sergeant erskine?

At ease, sergeant.

Can you give me a minute? Yes, sir. Sergeant Bradford, can you take over?

< ok, take five.

It's about lt Johnson. What do you want to know?

I'm trying to help him out. With all due respect, major, he's dead.

Ain't nothing anyone can do for him now. Well, actually, there is.

His town doesn't want him buried in a white cemetery. You guys can help. You put him up for a medal, right?

Is this an official investigation?

No, I understood colonel holmby was gonna brief you guys on this.

Yes, sir. I just wanna be sure. What do you need to know?

Well, the man died with honours. I'd like to know more about that.

Sure.

Well... he must have been a good officer, right?

He wasn't afraid of nothing. And he didn't look for combat, but...

He sure had a tendency to charge right on in.

Sounds like you have a little problem with that.

Sir, do you like getting shot at? No.

Me neither. But, you like him? Yeah.

Did you have any feelings about serving under a black officer?

Not really, all officers look alike to me.

A good Joe. The day he saved your lives...

What can you tell me about that? Mainly I remember the rain, monsoons.

We got pinned down in crossfire near the river.

We couldn't get any air. Suddenly all hell breaks loose with the mortars.

It happened so fast. Before we knew it, he was dead.

The impact pushed him into the river.

He got a grenade off before he died then it went quiet.

Quiet? Yeah. Major, nam's funny that way.

What about the man? What was he like?

I can't say I got to know him well, sir. Officers keep their distance.

There must have been something...

That's all that comes to mind, unless you have any particular questions.

Will that be it, major?

Yeah, that's all, sergeant.

Yes, sir!

Sergeant booker t Douglas? Yes, sir.

Sergeant, come on down here, will you, please?

I'm looking for information about lt Dwyte Johnson.

Could you be more specific, sir? Mind if I record this? If you want.

I'm talking to everyone in the unit. This is booker t Douglas.

You men put him up for a medal, is that right? That's right.

I was wondering... did you and he have a special kind of relationship?

In what way, sir? Most of the unit was white.

No, sir, he treated me just like the others.

And how was that? Good.

He wasn't one to get very chummy with the men, sir.

They respected him, right? Yes, sir.

Can you tell me about...? I want to get hold of the personal side.

Can't help you there, sir. Why not?

Can't say I ever got to know him. He was a brother, but he was an officer.

No fraternisation. You dig what I'm saying, sir?

But he was a good Joe. That's what they tell me.

What do you remember about the day he was killed?

It was raining. Had been for days. My feet were rotting in my boots.

We got caught in the crossfire with Charlie.

Couldn't get no air support. Well... Then all hell broke loose.

And when it was over...

The lieutenant was dead.

He fell in the river.

Will that be all, sir?

Yeah, that's all. Thank you, sergeant.

Specialist Porter?!

Yeah. Is it Kevin Porter who served under lt Dwyte Johnson?

Er... just a second. Let me secure these weapons.

Sir? Can I speak to you for a moment in the office, specialist? Yes, sir.

I heard someone was asking about the lieutenant. Yeah? Er... grapevine.

We've got three phones - one to contact the army and the other two to keep us sane. I know what you mean.

So, how can I help, sir? Well, it's about the lieutenant.

His family has been having trouble with a few people in his home-town,

and I thought maybe your feelings about the lieutenant could help them change a few minds back there.

You don't mind if I record this, do you? No, sir.

This is Porter.

What do you remember most about the lieutenant?

He tried to maintain more discipline in the field than most officers.

Guess that was west point talking.

How did you feel about that?

It was for our own good. He was great. A real good Joe.

What did you say?

A real good Joe.

How did you feel when he was killed?

There was nobody that died I didn't feel for. And that goes for the lieutenent.

That last day...

Let me know what he did to save the unit.

Well, we were... trapped in a crossfire.

And nobody knew how to get out.

It was wet.

It had been raining for 15 days.

We radioed for air support, but there wasn't any.

Then from out of nowhere...

It happened.

What happened?

All hell broke loose.

'Then all hell broke loose.'

'..the mortars. Then, all of a sudden, all hell breaks loose.'

'..black to me. A good Joe.'

'dig what I'm saying, sir? He was a good Joe.'

Is this the McAlister residence? Yes, come in. Thank you.

Mrs m went down to the kitchen. I'm Eleanor Clark. Kendall Laird.

This way, please. Thank you.

Major Laird.

Are you always this punctual? Yes, ma'am, I'm well trained.

Please sit down. Thank you.

Eleanor goes to university in Atlanta, but when she's here she helps me in this big old house.

Tea? Yes, please.

Won't you stay? No, thank you. I have to go. Eleanor, this is the officer I was telling you about.

His assignment is to help the Johnsons bury their son, however they choose.

I think you know my orders better than I do.

No. You seem to be conscientious.

Help yourself to cream and sugar.

Would the army be willing to take this to court?

Eleanor is a law student.

I hope it doesn't come to that. Or it doesn't drag on.

I worry for the Johnsons.

And for you mrs m. There are all kinds of people here.

Some of my relatives don't agree with the Johnsons. But then they never met Dwyte. We went to school together.

He's partly the reason I went to law school.

He never had much time to socialise.

Ada was worried about him in that way. He was always pushing himself.

Even when he was very young.

I'd better go. Do you mind me using your car?

Heavens, no! But check the oil. She's consuming great quantities.

One of these days I'm gonna get in there and find the trouble.

Nice to meet you, major.

Same to you, Eleanor.

So, you've known the Johnsons for a long time? Yes, a very long time.

Ada's mother was a midwife. She delivered my only child.

So, our families are connected in life and death.

My son, alban...

Died in the early days in Vietnam.

And Ada was a real comfort to me then.

It must have been very difficult for you.

A great preacher once said,

"be kind."

"Nearly everyone is fighting a hard battle."

And not just on the battlefield.

So!

Why did you want to meet with me, major Laird?

I'm concerned about the Johnsons.

You must have realised the plot was going to create a schism in the town.

I did it to heal a schism.

This goes beyond principle. It's a personal thing.

If you had known Dwyte, you would have known what I mean. He was...

Something special.

I keep hearing that kind of thing.

Didn't he have any faults at all?

Yes. He could be demanding...

Mostly of himself.

But...

He shone. Everybody could see it.

You see... nothing was impossible to Dwyte.

Everything was a possibility.

When he was eight... he went to the library to borrow a book.

But the librarian wouldn't let him have it due to his race.

So he said he would wait... Until she changed her mind.

And he did. He waited!

All day long he stood at that desk waiting!

That poor woman - she was so unnerved by the end of the day.

If she hadn't been so decrepit, she might have tossed him out.

But closing time came and there he was,

and, I think, when five o'clock rolled around, she was so worn down she just gave him the book.

So, if it had been anyone but Dwyte,

I probably wouldn't have given up that plot.

But, my goodness, if he can't turn tradition around,

we may have to wait another thirty years!

And, of course, Ada and Luther aren't gonna budge.

Sometimes it takes

one person making one move

to open people's eyes.

It's hard to be that one person.

But when the time comes -

and you know it -

you just say, "I guess this is it. It's me that has to do this."

What?

I'm just remembering that time he climbed up to the church belfry and got stuck.

Do you remember that?

Climbed up there, couldn't get down, was getting hollered because he know he didn't have no business up there.

Then they came and rang the bell for church vespers.

He had such a headache.

Every time I started balling about it, I just cracked up.

That boy.

That boy.

Specialist Oliver?

Yes, sir. That's a pretty good shot. Do you do that every time?

At ease, specialist.

You expected me, didn't you?

Sir, before we begin, I would like to know what my rights are.

Why do you think you need to know your rights?

Sir, unless you inform me, I won't co-operate.

This isn't an investigation. It's an informal talk about lt Johnson.

Do I understand, sir, I don't have to answer questions? Yeah, that's right.

May I be dismissed?

So, you won't discuss lt Johnson with me? Correct, sir.

May I ask why not?! Sir, I request a lawyer is present before I say another word.

Why don't you go back to your game, Oliver?

'He wasn't afraid of nothing...'

'he fell in the river.'

'..before anyone knew, he was dead.'

'impact... threw him head first into the river.'

Remember "stinky" Gilroy?

The minister's son, right.

He had it all figured out - one of those 20-year guys.

Calculated his retirement fund, knew just what he was gonna do.

He gets out, hangs around the house all day, drives his wife crazy.

Finally, he takes one drink...

Well, that's not going to happen to you, sarge.

No way. I got this place to keep me busy, I got no wife -

never could find a woman dumb enough -

and my drinking days are done. Two bottles of beer nowand I pass out.

I envy you. I always did.

You were the only guy I knew who I could imagine outside the army.

You kept things in perspective.

It's easy. When things start to get complicated, you take a nap.

What do you do when you can't sleep?

Then you go talk to somebody.

Come on, Kenny. I know you didn't come down herejust to drown worms.

Do you know of any verified cases of fragging?

I...

Heard men in bars bragging they did it.

The only thing I believed was that they were lying.

I've seen others get drunk and stay silent when the subject comes up.

Hard to know what that silence means.

My guess is, they did something too bad to talk about.

If there had been a conspiracy to kill a superior officer in combat,

and I could get one of them to crack,

do you think I should bring them to justice, even though it would destroy the dead man's family?

That doesn't sound like justice.

Letting them get away with it isn't justice, either. Butjustice is an idea - it's not real.

I mean, family, that's real.

What's real is it's someone who's getting shot at whilst out there.

If ideas don't mean anything, why be willing to lose your life over them?

I'm not a philosopher. I don't think about it like you do. I don't think about it at all.

And what we saw in 'nam, what about that?

I don't think about things - it's not my way.

Do you wanna ask me about 'nam? I didn't like it over there.

I didn't have to think about it not to like it. It just came natural.

Yeah, but you followed orders.Yes.

You must have believed in something. In following orders! Come on!

I know you. It must have meant more to you.

When you find out about it, why not tell me?

Come on, Kendall! What has got under your skin?

Well, I've gotten to know the family and I would hate to hurt them.

I've also met the men in the unit. I know they're covering something up.

I can't think what else it could be.

I don't know. Maybe the best thing to do would be just to drop it.

It would certainly be the easiest thing to do. So?

So...

You're gonna do the hard thing, right?

Morning, sir.

Sir, major Laird. Major, have a seat. You wanted ten minutes?

Yes, sir, I'm on a special assignment,

as an Sao helping the family of lt Dwyte Johnson,

and I've run into a problem. Go on.

I've been interviewing some of his men stationed here

and I may have uncovered a conspiracy.

What kind, major?

When I asked some of them to describe the battle where he died,

they kept repeating the same key expressions,

as if they had rehearsed them.

They seemed nervous when recording the interviews.

One of them refused to talk to me without a lawyer present.Major...

Are you suggesting lt Johnson was killed by his own men?

These men put him up for a medal, sir. Something doesn't make sense.

You realise it's something that's almost impossible to prove?

Yes, sir, I do.

And have you thought of the effect this issue would have on his family?

Yes, I've thought a lot about that. I can't imagine anything worse.

It Johnson... was a black officer commanding a largely white unit.

Race isn't an issue in the army. Theoretically.

It's informal for now. If you find anything substantial,

I'll turn it over for criminal investigation.

I know how sensitive... we both do.

We both do.

I want a report in three days.

Yes, sir. Thank you, sir.

Major Laird, someone just called. Here's your message, sir. Thank you.

Yeah, Sam Jennings, please.

Hi, Sam! ..Yeah, what's up?

What?

Overnight they did that?

They bought the cemetery from the council, made it private property and now it can't be de-segregated.

It was oster and a couple of his cronies. They slipped it through without informing the townsfolk.

I don't like the smell of it. They're hanging onto the status quo your editorial defended.

No! I was not trying to defend the way things were here.

I said I thought rockville was not ready for change of this type at this time. But...

I don't know.

I've heard things said around here that I thought I would never hear.

I've even heard people agree to burying Dwyte Johnson in rockville cemetery.

What I'm telling you is that the town has changed.

Maybe just an inch. But it has changed.

What does that mean for the Johnsons?

What have you got on that story?

There is a complication on the military side.

What the hell does that mean? I'm under pressure,

all of a sudden, to... er...

Do something else in the next few days. So, you're just gonna wait.

This isn't as easy as we thought it was gonna be.

I'm working on it, Sam.

I'll be in touch, ok?

Ok.

Mr Johnson!

Major. How are you today?

Tolerable, I guess. Back to work?

Well, not exactly. Why not?

You know...

Fellow called me up last week about wiring up his garage.

I go there this morning to measure up and he says, "forget about it."

And that's related to the cemetery?

I don't know.

He lives about a block away from it.

Do you think you're gonna lose any more jobs?

If Dwyte was buried out of town, do you think the jobs would reappear?

Doesn't that make you angry?

It makes me angry.

Where you from, major?

Wisconsin.

Well, I expect it makes you angry because you just figured it out.

Me and Ada...

We figured it out two or three weeks ago.

Yes, sir, we figured it out.

Out of all the bad things that could happen,

we went on and did it anyway.

Paid mrs mcalister15$ for that plot.

She said that's what she paid for it when she bought it.

Kind of made us feel like we was... Buying our freedom, you know,

like in the old days.

Look here.

See that path there.

Old Dwyte he...

Well, we had a... basketball hoop up there.

He had a fancy lay-up shot he used to practice. Over and over.

Well, when the call came...

Said he was gone...

Body was missing.

Well, it was like he... He wasn't here at all.

And I'd come out here and look at that path there and...

Well, he must have been here.

I'm a different man than I was, major.

Cos there ain't no way I'd be doing this, if it wasn't for Dwyte. I feel good about that.

So, they can take the jobs.

But there ain't no way they can take that feeling away from me.

Look, mr Johnson, I really do admire what you're trying to do here,

but, before I can proceed with the army side of this,

I must ask you if a military burial in a federal cemetery is an alternative you're considering.

Do you want it to be?

It's not my decision.

My orders are to assist you any way I can,

but I must be certain of your wishes before I can go any further.

I expect you think me crazy for going on with this.No.

You're not crazy.

Well...

Sometimes I think we're crazy.

But then... I remember some of the letters he had written.

Well, I don't think that any more.

You know...

Most of them was just Dwyte being funny.

You know how it is. He didn't want us to worry.

He was like that - he was always protecting other people.

That last letter, major...

That last one...

Well... I... I think maybe you oughta read it.

Evening, Douglas. What do you want, major?

To talk.

We already talked.

Well...

I'd like to talk some more.

Well, I don't want to talk to you, so unless I'm under orders...

Could I have a draught, please?

I hear you're a pretty good soldier. Don't want to hear it, major.

I'm not staying in.

Two more months and I'll be out.

Your record indicates... I just did what I had to do,

so don't give me "America's finest", cos I don't go for slogans no more.

My time is short, so is my attitude.

I'm getting out.

I'm just trying to get a guide bearing on Douglas.

Shove off - really.

Why are you sticking with them?

We always hung together.

A good unit.

Over there we kept each other alive, you know?

Good god! I would have thought that you of all the men in the unit...

Where are you going when you get out?

You're from Chicago, right?

You got family there?

How would you feel if somebody told you where you could or couldn't bury your mother, say, or your father?

Talk to me, Douglas. Why?

You haven't heard anything I've said.

Was lt Johnson shot in the front...

Or in the back?

They had lots of fishing tackle, wallet, keys, they had to walk along the shore to get home.

The next day, they stay in a motel and watch TV.

I end up lending them 20 bucks to buy them gas and fish so it won't look so bad.

So, er... how's that case coming along?

Which part of it?

The civil rights suit or the possible murder mystery?

Going nowhere fast in both lanes.

Who says you gotta do it all?

I don't, but I'm afraid of what will happen, if either one of them gets turned over to somebody else.

You're a worrier, kid.

Always have been. Hey, remember crazy mulrooney and his model?

"Few things matter..."

"And nothing matters very much."

Yeah, right! Except food, smokes and centrefolds,

and then they sent him home with a perforated ulcer.

Unfortunately, sarge, both these things do... matter very much.

There are a lot of people, me included...

You know how it is in the service.

You get used to moving around, learning new names, having a few beers then shipping out.

But there are certain faces that...

You don't forget.

Dwyte Johnson seems to be like that for me.

I can't figure out why.

I never even met the man.

Maybe he's the guy on the other end of your saw.

What does that mean?

As a logger, I thought the best guy to have on the other end was your opposite.

Like a mirror reverse, so that when he pulled, you pushed.

So, you think we're...

Like, opposites?

Well, you said he liked to take chances, and he didn't try to please everybody all the time.

You've been a good soldier, a brave one, but you're still trying to paddle the boat

and not make waves.

Major Laird?

Colonel holmby. This is sgt major, retired, bill Davis, my old squad leader.Colonel.

Nice to meet you.

Major Laird.

How is your special assignment progressing? It's coming along, sir.

Good.

General hauer has called me about it. We can't keep him waiting.

No, sir. I understand.Good.

Enjoy your dinner. Thank you, sir.

Fun guy.

Sure enough, the car starts going slower and slower.

We get to the on ramp. It's downhill.

We get out of the cab, the two of us push the cab right up to the station.

I barrel through the airport, get to the plane before the doors close,

get on the airplane, I sit down, takes me about an hour to get my breath and dry off,

and then...

And then they send my luggage to Cleveland!

I thought when you got to be 40, you didn't have to scramble around like that.

Why don't you come down here

and just fish for a day or two?

You can use bait or not. Yeah, sure, any time.

Why not? You're due some time off.

No, I was never very good at vacations.

That was one of the big problems with jan and me.

Lousy vacations, it turns out, make for great grounds for divorce.

You over all that? Yeah.

Eight years - I can barely even believe that I was married to her.

I can believe it. I was there.

So, you... want another beer?

Another excuse not to talk about it?

Look, sarge, don't push me, ok?

I've been going through a lot these days, a lot of pressure.

Just don't tell me everything is hunky dory. I didn't!

I'm sorry.

I didn't mean to bite your head off. You're allowed.

Yeah, here I am. Everywhere else I feel like I'm in a strait-jacket.

I can't do this or that because of rules or because I'll hurt somebody.

And I can't work out what the hell is going on as nobody will talk!

I can't keep bugging these guys with the same stupid questions over and over again.

Why not? Because it doesn't work!!

I barge into the nco club at the base, and I'm talking to this soldier about the whole thing -

black kid named Douglas.

He turns round and walks out on me.

I'm afraid if I go after him again, he'll clam up for good.

And I just know there's something he's not telling me.

I don't know what you're crying in your beer about.

You could have dropped this any time you liked, right?

You know what your problem is, Kenny?

What? You finally got hold of something you believe in.

Sir.

Look, why do you keep coming around my face?! You're driving me crazy!!

Look, this is not going to go away!!

Douglas, I'm sorry about what I said at the club last night. That was...

Way out of line, but something is going on and if we keep covering it up, it'll rot until it explodes!

Tell me something!

I owe you nothing! I...

Let me tell you what it was like for a brother.

I was giving blood to a white guy, I was pumping my own blood into him! And when he comes to, he sees me,

and he starts yelling to stop,

even when he's been told he's gonna die unless he takes my blood,

this ranch-running redneck had to think about it!

So... it Johnson ain't alone in it.

So you should want to help him. You think I'm still part of this army. I'm not.

How does that help Dwyte Johnson get what's right?

The name of the game is survival. Stayin' alive! You dig?

I'm sorry lt Johnson's dead. I'm sorry I wake up at night sweating when it's cold out.

I'm sorry I'm talking to you! Something is going on.

You weren't there! You weren't in that hole!

Man, when Johnson and buyer got hit you weren't there.

Buyer?

Who's buyer?

There's no mention in this whole place of anybody named buyer?

They were pulling them units out pretty fast. I doubt we'll ever get all the historical records back.

If he was in that unit, there's three possibilities -

he's wearing civvies, he's wearing bandages,

or he's wearing dirt.

Now, if you want, I can find a way of tracing him.

I want.

Specialist buyer?

I'm major Laird.

How's it going?

How does it look?

Looks rough.

What do you want?

I've been assigned survivor assistance officer... I ain't dead yet.

Survivor assistance officer for the family of Dwyte Johnson.

Go away. Why?

Nothing worse can happen, so there ain't nothing you can threaten me...

What makes you think anybody's here to threaten you? Nurse! Get him away from me!

You're not being threatened! Is that clear? Clear? Is anything real clear to you, major?

Less and less every day.

Where's your home, buyer?

Right here, sir.

I mean where are you from?

Arkansas.

Maybe you're not surprised at the problems in rockville. Problems?

You don't know? You're not on the grapevine, too?

I ain't on anybody's grapevine. I don't talk to anybody.

The Johnson family can't get Dwyte buried. The town cemetery's all white.

They found him? They found his body?

Took them a while.

What's the matter?

Where did they find him? Down river from where you and he were hit.

You ok?

Where... where is he now?

In his family's church an hour away.

He's floating.

He's floating like I last saw him.

I... I can't... deal with this. I don't want to hear any more about this. Just go away and leave me alone!

Sshh. I can't... calm down! Just listen to me for a minute.

It's ok.

Buyer, I know what you went through. I was there.

It was...

Some part of nam that we'll never put behind us.

But at least for us the fighting's over. We came home. It Johnson came home dead and he's still fighting.

Now I'm trying to help him. You help me.

I escorted the body of a Vietnam hero back to his family.

And those people can't even bury their only son.

When I started all this, it was just a coffin,

but I go into his home, I find out this was an amazing man.

Dwyte Johnson did more in 24 years than most of us will do in 50.

The men who served under him, who put him up for a medal, they don't want to help him!

And I don't know why.

Look at me!

You tell me what happened out there. What happened?

Until I know it, Dwyte Johnson is not going to rest.

And I'm not going to rest until I find it.

You've found it. Found what?

It was all my fault.

What are you talking about?

Everything.

The air strike.

Buyer. Tell me everything from the beginning. I can't.You can.

I can't! You can! No, I can't! Why not?

I can't fix... I can't change what happened!

You're holding on to something. Let go of it! No, I... I...

Tell me!

I'm sorry, I didn't mean to yell at you, but please, please, help me.

Help me pull something good out of all this!

Major, you don't know what you're asking me to do.

I know I don't.

I know I don't.

But whatever it is, buyer,

this is the time to do it.

Sir.

Specialist buyer refused to talk to me alone.

What he has to say he wanted to say in front of all of you.

The major told me the story you been telling about how lt Johnson died.

< I have come

to tell the truth.

What the hell are you doing?

I gotta do this.

I don't.

You don't know what I'm gonna say!

Sit down!

All right, specialist,

take it from the beginning.

Well, you see, major,

about ten days before lt Johnson got killed

we were sent out on a reconnaissance patrol, north of shu li.

< now, man, that's all we did. We were humping those boonies, looking for Charlie,

like Clay pigeons out looking for a shooter.

So we get to this top of the mountain, top of the hill there,

and, er, we looked down at the valley.

There were vc

< moving supplies through.

Tell them about the lieutenant's great idea, buyer.

So the lieutenant says he's gonna call in an air strike.

He checks out his map, hands me some co-ordinates, and tells me to call in the biggest strike we can get.

And we got it, didn't we?

It landed smack-dab on us.

Was anybody hit?

Yeah, Wilson. >

never knew what hit him. Went home in medium-sized chunks.

I wonder what they told his parents.

The lieutenant felt real bad.

I don't believe this! Buyer, are you feelin' sorry for him?

You bad-mouthed lt Johnson more than anyone! >

you called him super-spade!

I said that to you?

You were the most prejudiced!

I never said one racial remark.

You never said anything good cos he made it to west point and you didn't.

You shut your mouth, I don't need to listen to that stuff. That's enough!

Was there racial tension?

Porter?

Things were getting better.

We had a good unit. >

we were...

The only good thing I was ever part of.

Well, Wilson was our first casualty.

We were feeling real lucky up until then.

It Johnson was real sharp. It wasn't like him to make a mistake.

Yeah, but he kind of lost it after that.

He did not lose it!

You could see it was tearing him up inside.

But it was too late.

I should have told him. I tried. I just couldn't.

What are you telling us?

He didn't make a mistake.

When I called in the air strike, I changed the co-ordinates.

You did what?

I thought they were wrong!

Let me get this straight.

Didn't the lieutenant check? Yeah, but I lied again.

< I told him they were the numbers he gave me. Why?

Why? Why did you change the numbers?

He figured a black man couldn't plot.

Is that true?

So...

Buyer was responsible for an air strike hitting the unit.

Lieutenant Johnson thought it was his fault...

And all of you thought so, too.

All right now.

Let's get down to it.

What happened when... when "all hell broke loose"?

Erskine.

Well, it was pretty much like what we told you.

'Cept we left part of it out. >

what part?

Lieutenant Johnson thought that he knew where the fire was coming from.

He grabs his grenade launcher and he shouts... >

"let's take it."

And then he jumps up...

And what happened then?

Buyer was the only man who followed him.

They were cut down right away.

Before he died,

the lieutenant aimed his launcher at the spot he thought the mortar was... and fired.

Did he hit it?

So he did save your lives?

Why didn't you follow him?

I don't know, sir.

Oliver, what about you?

Why didn't you follow him?

Well, when the lieutenant made that mistake...

Well, after we thought he did...

We started to doubt...

To doubt his leadership?

Would you have had the same doubts

if your officer had been white?

Douglas, what about you?

I didn't follow him that day because of the way he was acting.

I didn't know if he was the man he was before.

How long did you hesitate? Was it, like, one second or... or fifteen? I don't think anyone knows, sir.

Like, when you're in a car wreck, you hear the brakes squeal for what seems like forever, but it's only a second.

It happened before we could think about it.

If you didn't get together to plan all this, why did you get together to cover it up? He saved our lives.

It was wrong for us not to give him the medal.

Oliver was against it. >

because we'd have to explain why we weren't with him when he died.

Gentlemen, I, er...

I want to read you something.

This is the last letter that Dwyte Johnson ever wrote.

I think he must have written it sometime during that last week.

"Dear mum and dad,"

"only got a minute so I'll write while I can."

"We had our first casualty. It shook up the whole unit, including me."

"Making decisions"

"that risk death for others is a terrible burden."

"I care about all these men. Their lives are in my hands"

"and my hands are not supposed to shake."

"They so believed in their country they'veoffered themselves to die."

"My job is to keep that from happening and it's so hard."

"Sometimes I feel so confused. Not a moment goes by that I don't ask myself, 'am I doing this right?'"

"but don't worry about me, I'll get through this."

"I miss you and love you. Your son, Dwyte."

Left. Left. Left, right. Detail, halt.

We're here for the funeral of lt Johnson.

You, er, can't come in here for that.

Mr oster, we still own that plot. You can't just take our property.

We'll buy it back.

It's not for sale.

< this cemetery

is now the private property of the graykirk corporation.

We have a racial covenant

and you can't bury that boy in here.

These are his buddies.

He saved our lives. >

and we're a good unit, mister. >

and when we make up our minds to do something, >

nobody can stop us.

- Am I right, sgt Douglas? - You're right, buyer.

Step aside, mr oster.

It's over.

Gentlemen.

Forward...

March!

Left. Left.

Well, it looks like rockville was ready for this after all. Looks like it.

Of this world the soul of our deceased brother.

We therefore commit his body to the ground. Earth to earth.

Ashes to ashes.

Dust to dust.

'February 23rd 1972.

'We buried lt Johnson today.

'Finally.

'But his spirit feels very much alive here.

'In this town, in his men,

'in me.

'I came here as one kind of person.

'I'm leaving as another.

'Together with his family and his men,

'i think we made a difference.