Original subtitles

We were in a store, and a guy in that store told us to put our uniforms on.

"What the hell are you talking about?"

He says, "The U.S.A.'s in a war with Japan."

We couldn't believe it.

Well, our country was attacked. It's a different--

It wasn't like Korea or Vietnam. We was attacked.

And, you know, it was a feeling of...

Maybe we're just dumb country people where I come from...

...but a lot of us volunteered.

"Who would like to volunteer for the Tank Corps?

Who would like to volunteer for the Air Force?

Who would like to volunteer for the Navy?" Or whatever.

And then they said, "Who would like to volunteer for the Airborne?"

So I says, "What the hell's the Airborne?" Nobody ever heard of it.

We came from a small, small town...

...and three fellows in that town that were 4-F committed suicide.

Because they couldn't go. A different time.

I did things. I didn't do them for medals, I didn't do them for accolades.

I did them because they... It's what had to be done.

The guy says, "Well, you jump out of airplanes.

You know, you got all your Army equipment, you jump out of airplanes...

...to fight the enemy."

These guys said, "Go to hell." Nobody put up their hands.

And then I don't know what it was brought it up...

...but the guy giving the speech was saying, "But you get paid $50 a month more."

So that made it 100 bucks.

Okay, boys, let's get this gear stowed.

Fox Company, we go in five.

- Sergeant Maynard? - Nope.

In the name of the Father and the Son...

1 st Platoon, draw small arms.

It'll be too late when you're facing the enemy.

Easy Company!

Listen up! Gather up around me!

Let's move it up! Come on, gentlemen!

Let's go!

The Channel coast is socked in with rain and fog.

High winds on the drop zone. No jump tonight.

- Come on. - Are you serious?

The invasion has been postponed. We're on a 24-hour stand-down.

- Son of a bitch. - Drill sergeants, take charge.

1 st Platoon squad leader...

Well, this is quite a surprise.

Not particularly. It so happens I rather expected it.

Well, I can't see how you people can pass up $80,000 for the cause.

For whose cause?

If you're so interested in serving a cause, why don't you join the Army?

- I'm 4-F. - You look 1 -A to me.

You don't look so bad yourself.

Well, it's my arteries.

Should you be giving blood?

I think it's clearing up.

Think it's clearing up?

Nope.

I think it's clearing up.

- How are your men? - They'll be fine.

Five o'clock in New York. Four o'clock in Chicago.

- Happy hour, huh? - Yeah, happy hour.

A couple of drinks. Maybe an early dinner before the theater.

Civilized place for civilized men.

Should have been born earlier, Nix.

What, and give up all this?

We'll go to Chicago. I'll take you there.

Yeah.

We'll see.

- Actually, you know who's from there? - Who? Oh, him.

712 days with that son of a bitch and here we are.

You people are at the position of attention!

Pvt. Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers...

...over your boots like a paratrooper?

- No, sir. - Then explain the creases at the bottom.

- No excuse, sir. - Volunteering for the Parachute infantry...

...is one thing, Perconte, but you've got a long way to prove that you belong here.

Your weekend pass is revoked.

- Name. - Luz, George.

Dirt in the rear sight aperture. Pass revoked.

When did you sew on the chevron, Sgt. Lipton?

Yesterday, sir.

Long enough to notice this. Revoked.

Sir.

- Name. - Malarkey, Donald G.

Malarkey. "Malarkey" is slang for bullshit, isn't it?

Yes, sir.

Rust on the butt plate hinge spring, Pvt. Bullshit. Revoked.

- Name. - Liebgott, Joseph D., sir.

Rusty bayonet, Liebgott. You wanna kill Germans?

- Yes, sir. - Not with this.

I wouldn't take this rusty piece of shit to war...

...and I will not take you to war in your condition.

Now, thanks to these men and their infractions...

...every man in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it.

Change into your PT gear. We're running Currahee.

2nd Platoon, fall out. We have two minutes.

I ain't going up that hill.

Hey, Perconte, what are you thinking of, blousing your pants?

Shut up, Martin, all right? He gigged everybody.

Yeah, well, you should know better. Don't give him no excuses.

Excuses? Why don't you come here, look at these trousers...

...get down and you tell me if there's a crease on them.

All right, let's go. On the road, in PT formation. Let's move, move, move.

Perconte. Let's go, Perconte.

Pvt. White, why are you not in your PT gear?

I asked you a question, private.

Oh, Easy Company. Hey, while you're running, don't worry...

...we'll take your dames to the movies for you.

Yeah, good, they need some female company.

- Where do we run? - Currahee!

- What's Currahee mean? - "We stand alone"!

- How far up? How far down? - Three miles up, three down!

- What company is this? - Easy Company!

- And what do we do? - Stand alone!

Do not help that man! Do not help that man! Do not stop!

You have 13 minutes to get to the top of this mountain...

...if you want to serve in the paratroopers. Hi-yo, Silver!

Come on. You can make it up here. Come on.

Come on, Alley, let's go. Come on, Guarnere.

Come on! You got it! Come on!

Never thought I'd see the day, Private Wynn.

We are coming on 23 minutes.

That may be good enough for the rest of the 506...

...but that is not good enough for Easy Company!

We can do this! Come on!

Come on.

Come on . Come on.

Follow me!

You got it. All the way to the top...

I'm gonna say something.

To who?

Lt. Winters.

- What is it? - Permission to speak, sir.

- Permission granted. - Sir, we've got nine companies, sir.

We do.

Well, how come we're the only company marching every Friday night...

...12 miles, full pack, in the pitch dark?

- Why do you think, Pvt. Randleman? - Lt. Sobel hates us, sir.

Lt. Sobel does not hate Easy Company, Pvt. Randleman.

He just hates you.

Thank you, sir.

- He hates him back. - He hates you too, Muck.

Lt. Winters, I want canteens out of belts, with the caps unscrewed.

Easy Company, canteens out and open.

On my command, they will pour the contents onto the ground.

On the CO's order, you will upend your canteen.

- Now, lieutenant. - Pour them!

Who is this?

Christenson! Why is there no water in your canteen?

- You drank from your canteen, didn't you? - Sir, I was--

- Lt. Winters! - Yes, sir.

Was this man ordered to not drink from his canteen...

- ...during the Friday night march? - He was, sir.

Pvt. Christenson, you have disobeyed a direct order.

You will fill your canteen and repeat all 12 miles of the march immediately.

- Yes, sir. - Fall out!

What in the name of God are you doing with my company?

You're late and you allow troopers to disobey direct orders?

No excuse, sir.

You're making me look bad, lieutenant. This is not Dog Company.

This is not Fox Company. This-- This is Easy Company.

And under my command, this will be the first and finest company in this regiment.

I want the names of six men...

...their infractions and your disciplinary recommendations on my desk by 0130.

Is that clear?

What infractions, sir?

Find some.

So, what did you do?

Picked six men and gave them latrine duty.

The lucky six?

McDonald, Toye, Perconte, Lipton, Muck and Guarnere.

- Why them? - It was their turn.

Sobel's a genius.

I had a headmaster just like him in prep school. I know the type.

Lewis, Michelangelo's a genius. Beethoven's a genius.

You know a man in this company who wouldn't double-time Currahee...

...with a full pack just to piss in that guy's morning coffee?

Let's go, let's go.

- Go! - 1000, 2000, 3000, 4000...

Stand in the door.

- Go! - 1000, 2000...

You just broke both your legs, Pvt. Gordon.

- Are you trying to get yourself killed? - No, sir!

Stand in the door.

Move it, move it, move it!

Move it, move it, move it!

Shit.

To the wall! To the wall! Over as a team. Come on, against the wall!

Jesus, what the hell is this?

That's pig guts, boy.

Goddamn it.

- Why are you here, Pvt. Gordon? - I wanna be in the Airborne, sir.

I don't believe you. Why are you here, Pvt. Gordon?

I wanna be in the Airborne, sir.

You have 50 minutes to the top and back, and I will be watching you.

What are you waiting for?

Easy Company has the finest performance record...

...in the entire 2nd Battalion.

I believe every bit of that is thanks to you.

- Congratulations, Captain Sobel. - Thank you, sir.

Isn't that Lt. Winters leading Easy Company in PT?

Yes, sir.

He's a damn good man . I was planning on giving him a set of these today.

Why don't you do it? He'd be proud to get them from you.

Pornography, contraband.

Non-regulation clothing, contraband.

This man had 200 prophylactic kits in his footlocker.

How in the name of God was he gonna have the strength to fight the war?

How is it Pvt. Tipper has spare time for so much correspondence?

Captain, are personal letters to be considered contraband?

These men aren't paratroopers yet, lieutenant.

They have no personal property.

What is this?

Anybody.

It's a can of peaches, sir.

Lt. Nixon thinks this is a can of peaches.

That is incorrect, lieutenant. Your weekend pass is canceled.

This is United States Army property...

...which was taken without authorization from my mess facility.

And I will not tolerate thievery in my unit. Whose footlocker is this?

Private Parks', sir.

Get rid of him.

All weekend passes are canceled, officers included.

Carry on.

Lt. Winters.

Colonel Sink has seen fit to promote you.

As first lieutenant, you'll serve as my executive officer.

- Congratulations. - Thank you, sir.

And as a test of your organizational skills and command potential...

...I am designating you mess officer for 14 days.

Report to the mess kitchen at 0515 hours.

Company breakfast to be served at 0600.

Yes, sir.

Oh, and, Dick, there's rain forecast tomorrow.

So the company will have a light afternoon of lecture and classroom instruction.

I think a special meal before their afternoon off...

...would be a welcome change of pace.

- Would you agree? - Yes, sir.

I like spaghetti.

Hold on, more coming.

These guys are packing it away.

It's okay, it's good.

This stuff is orange. Spaghetti ain't supposed to be orange.

This ain't spaghetti. This is Army noodles with ketchup.

You ain't gotta eat it.

Oh, come on, Gonorrhea, as a fellow ltalian...

...you should know that calling this crap spaghetti is a mortal sin.

- Don't want it? I'll have it. - No, no, no, I'm eating here!

Hey, get out of here!

Orders changed! Get up!

Lectures are canceled! Easy Company is running up Currahee! Move! Move!

Three miles up, three miles down.

Hi-yo, Silver!

Let's go! Let's go!

You're a washout, Pvt. Hoobler.

You should pack up those ears and go home!

Looks like Gordon's done. Aren't you, Gordon? You finished?

You do not deserve to get your wings.

Pvt. Randleman, you look tired.

There's an ambulance waiting for you at the bottom of the hill.

It can all be over, right now. No more pain...

...no more Currahee, no more Captain Sobel.

So do we feel like we're ready to be Army paratroopers?

- Yes, sergeant! - I hope so.

This will be the first of five exits from a C-47 aircraft scheduled for today.

Get ready!

Stand up! Hook up!

Upon successful completion of your fifth and final jump...

...you'll be certified Army paratroopers.

Check equipment!

Sound off for equipment check!

Nine okay!

- Eight okay! - Seven okay!

Six okay!

- Five okay! - Four okay!

Three okay!

- Two okay! - One okay!

There'll be a lot of men jumping from the sky today...

...hopefully under deployed canopies.

Stand in the door!

I guarantee you're gonna love it, lieutenant! Go! Go!

Jumping from 1000 feet AGL, in sticks of 12 jumpers per aircraft.

All you have to do is remember what you were taught...

...and I guarantee you gravity will take care of the rest.

Go! Go! Go! Go!

Go! Go! Go! Go! Go!

Go! Go! Go!

Damn it.

And, gentlemen, rest assured, any refusals in the aircraft or at the door...

...and I guarantee you you will be out of the Airborne.

- Four okay! - Three okay!

- Two okay! - One okay!

Stand in the door!

Now!

1000, 2000, 3000, 4000, 5000...

...6000, 7000, 8000, 9000.

Yeah!

Hi-yo, Silver!

Now, just think. If you had any class or style like me...

...somebody might mistake you for somebody.

You mean like your fucking sergeant?

I'm just kidding.

- Congratulations, Martin. - Cpl. Toye.

There will be no leaning in my company.

Are those dusty jump wings?

How do you expect to slay the Huns with dust on your jump wings?

Luz, just give me a drink.

Hell of an idea, Joe.

There you go.

Three miles up, three miles down.

Ten-hut!

Well, at ease, paratroopers.

- Good evening, Easy Company. - Evening, sir!

Now, Parachute Infantry is a brand-new concept in American military history.

But, by God, the 506 is gonna forge that brand-new concept into victory.

Yes, sir!

I want you to know that I'm damn proud of each and every one of you.

Now, you deserve this party.

- Thank you, Sgt. Grant. - Sir.

So I want you to have fun, and remember our motto:

- Currahee! - Currahee!

Petty!

Map! Come on!

Oh, Christ.

We're in the wrong position.

- We're in the wrong position. - We're textbook position for ambush, sir.

We should sit tight, let the enemy team come into our killing zone.

They're right out there somewhere. Let's just get them.

- Sir, we have perfect cover here. - Lieutenant, deploy your troops.

2nd Platoon, move out.

- What? - Tactical column.

Captain, you've just been killed, along with 95 percent of your company.

Your outfit?

Easy Company, 2nd Battalion, 506.

Leave three wounded men on the ground and report back to the assembly area.

Goddamn it.

You. You. You.

Ah, what are you gonna do?

Nothing, just keep training the men.

Am I interrupting?

No, no.

Lt. Lewis Nixon, Lt. Harry Welsh, just in from the 82nd.

- Congratulations on the promotion. - Oh, thanks. If you wanna call it that.

You'll learn him pretty quickly. No flaws, no vices, no sense of humor.

Just like your chums up at Battalion Staff?

- What's up? - I'm hearing a lot of rumblings.

Sobel? We were just talking about that.

So he gets a little jumpy in the field.

Mm-hm. He gets jumpy and then you get killed.

That's nice.

Yeah, listen, if we discuss it, I think it should just be amongst ourselves.

Oh, absolutely.

- 2nd Platoon ready? - Ready, sir.

Then get them in formation. We're moving out.

Yes, sir.

Goddamn, you gotta admit. He's got no chance.

Either the Krauts will get him, or one of us.

Who? Sobel?

He screwed up one maneuver.

Well, you know, I'm always fumbling with grenades.

It would be easy if one went off by accident, you know?

Well, now, they must have put him in charge for a reason.

Yeah, because the Army wouldn't make a mistake, right, Shift?

- Going my way? - Wherever the train takes me.

- Where do you suppose that might be? - I haven't got a clue.

Yeah, come on. Take a guess. Atlantic, Pacific. Atlantic?

- I'm not the intelligence officer. - Mm.

Well, as such, I of course know, but if I told you, I'd have to kill you.

So don't tell me.

New York City. Troop ship. England.

We're invading Europe, my friend.

Fortress Europa.

Since when do I drink?

If I thought you'd drink it, I wouldn't offer it to you.

Nix, what are you gonna do when you get into combat?

Oh, I have every confidence in my scrounging abilities.

And I have a case of Vat 69 hidden in your footlocker.

- Really? - Oh, yeah.

Morning.

This could turn into a real nice trip.

Dear Sir or Madam:

Soon your son will drop from the sky to engage and defeat the enemy.

Your frequent letters of love and encouragement...

...will arm him with a fighting heart.

With that, he cannot fail but will win glory for himself, make you proud of him...

...and his country ever grateful for his service in its hour of need.

Signed Herbert M. Sobel, Captain, Commanding.

Right now, some lucky bastard's headed for the South Pacific.

Oh, what I'd give.

He's gonna get billeted on some tropical island.

- Keep talking. - Sitting under a palm tree...

- ...with six naked native girls... - Oh, yeah.

...helping him cut up coconuts so he can hand-feed them to the flamingos.

- Flamingos are mean. They bite. - So do the naked native girls.

With any luck.

Hey, guys, I'm glad I'm going to Europe.

Hitler gets one of these right across the windpipe.

Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving to Joe Toye Day...

...and pays me 10 grand a year for the rest of my fucking life.

What if we don't get to Europe? What if they send us to North Africa?

My brother's in North Africa. He says it's hot.

Really? It's hot in Africa?

Shut up. Point is, it don't matter where we go.

Once we get into combat, the only person you can trust is yourself...

- ...and the fella next to you. - Hey.

- Long as he's a paratrooper. - Oh, yeah?

What if that paratrooper turns out to be Sobel?

If I'm next to Sobel in combat, I'm moving on down the line.

Hook up with some other officer, like Heyliger or Winters.

I like Winters, he's a good man. But when the bullets start flying...

...I don't know if I want a Quaker doing my fighting for me.

- How do you know he's a Quaker? - He ain't Catholic.

- Neither's Sobel. - That prick's a son of Abraham.

- He's what? - He's a Jew.

Oh, fuck.

- I'm a Jew. - Congratulations.

Get your nose out of my face.

What's all that about?

Gonorrhea called Sobel a Jew.

Liebgott took offense because he's a Jew too.

Fighting over Sobel. That's smart.

Attack!

No! You wanna kill him!

Parry right! Parry left! Front!

Recover.

Okay. Yesterday we talked about magnetic declination...

...and the left-add, right-subtract rule.

Today we're gonna put it into practice.

There are two basic types of fighting positions.

The first is a prepared position.

The advantages of a prepared position are that it gives you cover and concealment.

Commence fire!

We'll then maneuver right in through these trees.

At the same time, our 2nd Platoon, in this particular case, moves over here.

He's then gonna close with, and kill or capture, that German.

Sobel's late.

Why is there a fence here?

- There should be no fence here. Tipper! - Yes, sir.

Give me the map.

Perconte. Luz. Get the men. Get them ba--

- Take cover behind those trees. - All right, you heard the word.

- Let's go. Move it out, fellas. Up, up. - You heard him. Move out.

There should be no-- There should be no fence here.

We could go over it, sir.

Really? That's not the point. Where the goddamn--?

Where the goddamn hell are we?

- Perconte. - Yeah?

- Sobel's lost again, right? - Yeah, he's lost.

- Fucking Christ. - Hey, Luz. Luz.

Can you do Major Horton?

Does a wild bear crap in the woods, son?

That's good.

Maybe the good major can goose this schmuck. Get us moving?

No way. I'm not gonna--

Oh, yeah. Yes. Luz, you gotta. You gotta. Come on.

All right, just this once.

356833. Isn't that the intersection?

No, sir, it's here. You're a full grid off.

Goddamn it.

Is there a problem, Capt. Sobel?

Who said that? Who broke silence?

I think it's Major Horton, sir.

Major Horton? What, is he--? Did he join us?

I think maybe he's moving between the platoons, sir.

What is the goddamn holdup, Mr. Sobel?!

A fence, sir, a-- God!

- A barbed-wire fence. - Oh, that dog just ain't gonna hunt.

Shut up!

Now, you cut that fence and get this goddamn platoon on the move!

Yes, sir!

- Where are my goddamn wire cutters? - Sir.

- We have to move. - Sir, without Capt. Sobel and 1 st Platoon?

It's a T-intersection. We improvise.

Double envelopment, lay down a base of fire to cut the road in all directions.

Hook right with 1 st Squad.

Tell Guarnere to move left with 2nd. I'll be right up the middle with 3rd.

- Go. - Yes, sir.

Dearie me.

Bloody hell.

You've done it now, Yanks. You've captured me.

Hi-yo, Silver!

Would that be the enemy?

As a matter of fact, yes.

Good work, 2nd Platoon. We took the objective.

Who was the idiot who cut that man's fence?

- I was ordered to, sir. - By who?

- Maj. Horton, sir. - Maj. Horton?

- Yes, sir. - Maj. Horton told you to do that?

- Yes, sir. - Maj. Horton ordered you to cut the fence?

Yes, he did.

Maj. Horton is on leave in London.

Get those cows out of here.

Lt. Winters.

With Capt. Sobel's compliments, sir.

Lieutenant.

- Oh, for crying out loud. - Misspelled "court-martial."

No, sir, I do not understand.

Your orders to me were to inspect the latrines at 1000 hours.

From 0930 to 0955, I was censoring the enlisted men's mail by order of Col. Strayer.

At 1000 hours, I followed your orders to the minute.

I changed that time to 0945.

- No one told me, sir. - I telephoned.

I'm quartered with a family that has no telephone.

- And sent a runner. - No runner found me, captain.

Irregardless, when given a task to perform by a ranking officer...

...you should have delegated your task of latrine inspection to another officer.

You failed to do so.

Were I to let such a failure of duty by my own XO go unpunished...

...what kind of message is that to the men?

- I performed my duty as I was ordered, sir. - And I disagree.

So your options are quite simple, lieutenant.

Punishment for your offenses will be denial of a 48-hour pass for 60 days.

Stand before me at attention.

Or you may initiate a letter of appeal and request a trial by court-martial.

You spend your weekends on the base anyway, Dick.

Be a man. Take the punishment.

May I borrow your pen, sir?

My endorsement, sir.

I request trial by court-martial.

- We lost Winters to batallion mess. - You're shitting me.

No. Strayer did it while he's trying to figure out the procedures for his court-martial.

- Nixon better find a loophole, get him out. - And if he don't?

Winters scrambles eggs while the rest of us make the big jump with Sobel.

Not me.

- So we're going through with this, right? - We gotta do something.

- Yeah. - Yeah.

Yeah.

All right.

Good.

We'd all better be clear of the consequences.

- I don't care about the consequences. - John.

We could be lined up against a wall and shot.

Now, I'm ready to face that.

And every one of us had better be too.

I will not follow that man into combat.

Me neither.

All right.

Then let's do it.

"I hereby...

...no longer...

...wish to serve...

...as a non-commissioned officer...

...in Easy Company."

All right, boys. Good luck.

I ought to have you all shot!

This is nothing less than an act of mutiny...

...while we prepare for the goddamn invasion of Europe.

- Sgt. Harris? - Sir.

Turn in your stripes, collect your gear.

You are hereby transferred out of my regiment.

- Sir. - Get out.

- Sgt. Ranney? - Sir.

You consider yourself lucky I'm only busting you to private.

All of you NCOs have disgraced the 101 st Airborne.

You can consider yourself lucky that we're on the eve...

...of the largest action in the history of warfare...

...which leaves me no choice but to spare your lives.

Now, get out of my office and get out of my sight.

Get.

Keep them coming. Thattaboy. That's it.

I can only speculate, sir. Most of the men would never do this.

But I believe just a few of the sergeants may have felt...

...their loyalty lay more to the platoon than to the company.

And these few sergeants convinced all of the other NCOs in your company...

...to turn in their stripes?

As staff sergeants, they have a great amount of influence, sir.

But as I say, the rest are good men. I know them, I can work with them.

This business of the Winters court-martial has been an unpleasant distraction.

Indeed it has, sir.

However, your command of Easy Company has been exemplary.

Thank you, sir.

In fact, except for the actions of a few of your non-come...

...I believe you've fielded one of the finest companies of soldiers I've ever seen.

Yes, sir.

Herbert, Division has established a parachute training school at Chilton Foliat.

The idea is for non-infantry types...

...who are vital to the coming invasion, such as doctors and chaplains...

...to take jump training there.

Frankly, I can't think of anyone more qualified...

...to command such a school than you are.

Sir?

I'm reassigning you to Chilton Foliat.

I'm losing Easy Company?

The war effort needs you elsewhere.

- Permission to speak, sir. - Granted.

Is--? Who will be replacing me?

Lt. Meehan from Baker Company is senior.

Good luck at Chilton Foliat, Herbert. Don't let us down, now.

No, sir.

Carry on.

2nd Platoon, listen up. I want the 1 st Squad in A-side tents right up there.

3rd Squad, second row...

Holy shit!

No, it's all right. We're Tommies, not bleeding Boche.

- Is all this real? - Yeah, yeah.

Well, some of it's from the Hermans that somebody's tailor's knocked up.

It's for you lads, actually, so you can get your mince pies on some of this Jerry clobber.

- If you know what I mean. - Not really.

Hey, mac, you got a Luger?

- I'm dying to get my hands on a real Luger. - Yeah, go on, then.

Quick butchers, yeah?

- Boy, she sure is a doozy. - Yeah, it's pukka, isn't it?

- What? - Eh?

Hey, Petty!

Hey, mate?

You're having a bath if you think you're half-inching that.

Oh, yeah. Sorry. Well, good luck.

You too, mate.

What's up, Hoobs?

These men have been through the toughest training the Army has to offer.

Under the worst possible circumstances. And they volunteered for it.

Christ, Dick, I was just shooting craps with them. It's not like--

You know why they volunteered?

So when things got really bad...

...the man in the foxhole next to them would be the best.

Not some draftee who's gonna get them killed.

Are you ticked because they like me?

Because I'm spending time to get to know my soldiers? I mean, come on.

You've been with these guys for, what, two years? I've been here for six days.

- You were gambling, Buck. - So what? Soldiers do that.

- I don't deserve a reprimand for it. - What if you'd won?

- What? - What if you'd won?

Never put yourself in a position where you can take from these men.

- Lt. Meehan? - Enter.

On the last training jump, I had a compass.

Close the flap.

- Then we turned left. - Yeah.

Bearing 0-4-2, 12 minutes.

- Then another left. - Yes.

- Yep. - Call it 3-5-8.

For 10 and a half minutes.

- Green light, right over Ramsbury. - Ramsbury.

Every single time.

Linear distance on the grid of about...

Okay. Ramsbury.

Upottery.

So...

It's Normandy.

Sainte-Marie-du-Mont. Causeway number one.

Causeway number two. The ultimate field problem.

The estuary of the Douve River divides two beachheads, code name Utah, here...

...and Omaha, here.

Seaborne Infantry will hit these beaches in force at a date and time to be specified.

H-Hour, D-Day.

Airborne's objective, gentlemen, is to take the town of Carentan...

...or Carentan, thus linking Utah and Omaha into a single continuous beachhead.

--Linking Omaha and Utah into one continuous beachhead.

Each trooper will learn this operation by heart...

...and know his and every other outfit's mission to the detail.

- Lt. Meehan? - Yes, Dukeman.

Sir, are we dropping tonight?

When it's time for you to know, we'll let you know.

In the meantime, study these sand tables, maps and reconnaissance photos...

...until you can draw a map of the area by memory.

Now, we will drop behind this Atlantic Wall...

...five hours before the 4th Infantry lands at Utah.

Now, between our assembly area and the batallion's objective...

...there is a German garrison.

Right here in this area, Sainte-Marie-du-Mont.

Easy Company will destroy that garrison.

Three-day supply of K rations, chocolate bars, Charms candy, powdered coffee...

...sugar, matches, compass, bayonet, entrenching tool, ammunition...

...gas mask, musette bag with ammo, my webbing, my .45, canteen...

...two cartons of smokes, Hawkins mine...

...two grenades, smoke grenade, Gammon grenade...

...TNT, this bullshit and a pair of nasty skivvies.

- What's your point? - This stuff weighs as much as I do.

I still got my chute, my reserve chute, my Mae West and my M-1.

Where are you keeping your brass knuckles?

I could use some brass knuckles.

- Sgt. Martin! - Hey, Vest, anything for me?

- Nope. Sgt. Martin! - J.W.?

Talbert!

Talbert!

Floyd. Floyd M. Here.

- Heavy. Condoms? - I don't know, probably.

- What you got? - "Dear Floyd: Give them hell."

It's from chief of the Kokomo Police Department.

Right.

Whoa.

You gotta love cops.

- It's nice. - All right, listen up! Listen up!

If you did not sign your GI life insurance policy...

...you go on over and see Sgt. Evans at the Headquarters Company tent.

You boys don't let your families miss out on $10,000.

- You hear that, Gerry? - Hey, Lip!

Yeah, boy?

Has Guarnere said anything to you about his brother?

- No. - I got a problem.

My wife keeps up with things back home. Casualty lists and like that.

Yeah?

- Guarnere's brother in Italy... - Henry?

Killed in Monte Cassino.

- Well, I'm sure he doesn't know. - Damn. What do you think I should do?

- If it were me? I'd tell him. - A couple hours before we jump?

I don't know.

Why are they springing these things on us now?

It's just an 80 extra pounds strapped to your leg.

Does anybody have any idea how the hell this thing works?

Colonel Sink.

Colonel Sink.

"Soldiers of the regiment:

Tonight is the night...

...of nights.

Today, as you read this...

...you are en route to the great adventure...

...for which you have trained for over two years."

That's why they gave us ice cream.

Easy Company! Listen up!

Channel coast is socked in with rain and fog.

No jump tonight.

The invasion has been postponed. We're on a 24-hour stand-down.

- Well, this is quite a surprise. - Not particularly.

It so happens I rather expected it.

Well, I can't see how you people can pass up $80,000 for the cause.

For whose cause?

If you're so interested in serving a cause, why don't you join the Army?

Next, please.

- I'm 4-F. - You look 1 -A to me.

You don't look so bad yourself.

"Dearest Johnny"?

I got the wrong goddamn jacket.

Shh.

"Bill Guarnere's brother..."

- Good luck, lads. - See you, Tommy.

Give Jerry one for me.

Johnny.

I got something you might be looking for.

I took your jacket by mistake. I'm sorry.

You read it?

- Where the fuck is Monte Cassino? - I don't know. Italy somewhere.

Sorry about your brother, Bill.

I'm sorry for my ma.

He was...

Let's get this over with.

Bill?

I'll meet up with you over there.

Gentlemen, Doc Roe is handing these out for airsickness.

Orders are, every man takes one now. Another, 30 minutes in the air.

Lieutenant.

2nd Platoon, listen up.

Good luck.

God bless you.

I'll see you in the assembly area.

If the wire cuts are successful, then I think all we should have to deal with is...

- Goddamn, Lieb. - That airsick pill is making me loopy.