All language subtitles for 02 Band Of Brothers Episode 01 Currahee - History 2001 English

01 Band Of Brothers Episode 01 Currahee -
History 2001 English.

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.

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? For the Air Force?

For the Navy?” Or whatever.

Then they said, “Who would
volunteer for the Airborne?”

So I says,
“What the hell's the Airborne?”

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 or accolades.

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

The guy says, “You jump out
of airplanes to fight the enemy.”

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

And I don't know
what brought it up…

but the guy speaking said,
“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…

1st Platoon, draw small arms.

It'll be too late when
you face the enemy.

Easy Company!

Listen up! Gather up around me!

Move it up! Come on!

Let's go!

The Channel coast is socked in
with rain and fog.

High winds on the drop zone.
No jump tonight.

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

–Drill sergeants, take charge.
–1st Platoon…

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, did you blouse
your trousers like a paratrooper?

–No, sir.
–Then explain the creases.

–No excuse, sir.
–Volunteering is one thing.

You've got a long way
to prove you belong.

Your weekend pass is revoked.

–Name. –Luz, George.

Dirt in the rear sight aperture.
Pass revoked.

When did you sew on the chevron?

Yesterday, sir.

Long enough to notice this. Revoked.

Sir.

–Name. –Malarkey, Donald G.

–lsn't “malarkey” slang for bullshit?
–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
in your condition.

Thanks to these men
and their infractions, every man…

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.

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

–Shut up. He gigged everybody.
–Don't give him no excuses.

Excuses? Look at these trousers and
tell me if there's a crease on them.

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

Perconte. Let's go, Perconte.

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

I asked you a question, private.

Easy Company. While you run,
we'll take your dames to the movies.

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.

Come on, Alley. Come on, Guarnere.
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.

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.

Why are we the only one marching every
Friday, 12 miles, 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,
caps unscrewed.

Canteens out and open.

They will pour the contents
onto the ground.

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?

–Lt Winters! –Yes, sir.

Was this man ordered
to not drink from his canteen?

–He was, sir.
–You disobeyed a direct order.

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

–Yes, sir. –Fall out!

What are you doing
with my company?

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

No excuse, sir.

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

This is not Fox Company.
This is Easy Company.

Under my command, this will be
the first and finest company.

I want the names of six men…

their infractions and your
disciplinary recommendations 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? –lt was their turn.

Sobel's a genius.

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

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

You know a man who wouldn't
double-time Currahee…

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, Gordon.

–Are you trying to get killed?
–No, sir!

Stand in the door.

Shit.

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?
–To be in the Airborne.

–I don't believe you. Why?
–To be in the Airborne.

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

What are you waiting for?

Easy Company has the best performance
record in the 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 good man. I was planning
on giving him 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.
They have no personal property.

What is this?

Anybody.

It's a can of peaches.

Lt Nixon thinks this
is a can of peaches.

That is incorrect.
Your weekend pass is cancelled.

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 cancelled,
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.

And, Dick, there's rain
forecast tomorrow.

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

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 orange. Spaghetti ain't
supposed to be orange.

This ain't spaghetti.
It's Army noodles with ketchup.

You ain't gotta eat it.

As an Italian, you know calling
this spaghetti is a mortal sin.

–I'll eat it. –I'm eating!

Get out of here!

Orders changed! Get up!

Lectures are cancelled! Easy Company
is running up Currahee! 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 and go home!

Looks like Gordon's done. Finished?
You do not deserve to get your wings.

Pvt. Randleman, you look tired.

There's an ambulance waiting for you.

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

no more Currahee,
no more Captain Sobel.

–Are we ready to be Army paratroopers?
–Yes, sergeant!

I hope so.

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

Get ready!

Stand up! Hook up!

Upon completion of your final jump,
you'll be certified 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 many men jumping 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.

You just have to remember
what you were taught.

I guarantee gravity will
take care of the rest.

Go! Go! Go!

Damn it.

Gentlemen, rest assured, any refusals
in the aircraft or at the door…

and I guarantee 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!

If you had 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 will you 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!

Parachute Infantry is a new concept
in military history.

But the 506 will forge
that new concept into victory.

Yes, sir!

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

Now, you deserve this party.

–Thanks, 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 in position for ambush.

Let the enemy come
into our killing zone.

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

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

2nd Platoon, move out.

–What? –Tactical column.

You've just been killed,
along with 95% 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.

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.
–lf you wanna call it that.

You'll learn him pretty quickly.
No flaws, vices or 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.

–He gets jumpy and you get killed.
–That's nice.

Listen, if we discuss it,
it should be among ourselves.

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.

I'm always fumbling with grenades.

It would be easy if one
went off by accident.

They must have put him
in charge for a reason.

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

–Going my way?
–Where the train takes me.

–Where's that?
–I haven't a clue.

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

I'm not the intelligence officer.

As such, I 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,
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 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…

and his country 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.

He'll get billeted
on some tropical island.

Sitting under a tree
with naked native girls…

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

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

With any luck.

Guys, I'm glad I'm going to Europe.

Hitler gets this
across the windpipe.

Roosevelt changes Thanksgiving
to Joe Toye Day…

and pays me $10·000 a year
for the rest of my life.

What if they send us to North Africa?

–My brother's there. He says it's hot.
–lt's hot in Africa?

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

Once we get into combat, you trust
only yourself and the man next to you.

–Long as he's a paratrooper.
–Yeah?

What if that paratrooper
turns out to be Sobel?

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

Hook up with another officer,
like Heyliger or Winters.

I like Winters. But when bullets fly,
I don't want a Quaker fighting for me.

–How do you know that?
–He ain't Catholic.

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

–He's what? –He's a Jew.

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.

We talked about magnetic declination
and the left-add, right-subtract rule.

Today we'll use it.

There are two basic
fighting positions.

The first is a prepared position.

This position's advantages are that
it gives you cover and concealment.

Commence fire!

We'll maneuver through these trees.

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

He'll then kill or capture
that German.

Sobel's late.

Why is there a fence here?

There should be no fence here.
Tipper!

Give me the map.

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

–Take cover behind those trees.
–All right. Let's go. Move it out.

There should-
There should be no fence.

We could go over it, sir.

Really? That's not the point.
Where the god-damn-?

Where the god-damn hell are we?

–Perconte. –Yeah?

–Sobel's lost again, right?
–Yeah.

–Fucking Christ. –Hey, Luz?

Can you do Major Horton?

Does a wild bear crap
in the woods, son?

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

–No way. I'm not gonna-
–Oh, yes.

Luz, 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.

–ls there a problem, Captain Sobel?
–Who said that? Who broke silence?

I think it's Major Horton, sir.

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

Maybe he's moving
between the platoons.

What is the god-damn 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
god-damn platoon on the move!

Yes, sir!

–Where are my wire cutters?
–Sir.

–We have to move.
–Without Sobel and 1st Platoon?

It's a T-intersection. We improvise.

Lay down fire to cut the road
in all directions.

Go right with 1st Squad. Tell 2nd
to go left. I'll be center 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. –By who?

–Maj. Horton, sir. –Maj. Horton?

–Yes. –He told you to do that?

–Yes, sir.
–He ordered you to cut the fence?

Yes, he did.

Major 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 were to inspect
latrines at 1000 hours.

From 0930 to 0955, I was censoring
mail by order of Col. Strayer.

At 1000 hours, I followed your orders.

I changed that time to 0945.

–No one told me. –I telephoned.

The family I'm with has no phone.

–And sent a runner.
–No runner found me.

When given a task to perform
by a ranking officer…

you should have delegated
latrine inspection to another officer.

You failed to do so.

Were I to let this go unpunished, what
kind of message is that to the men?

–I performed my duty as I was ordered.
–And I disagree.

So your options are
quite simple, lieutenant.

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

Stand before me at attention.

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

You spend weekends on the base anyway.
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 the mess.
–You're joking.

Strayer did it while he figures out
the procedures for his court-martial.

–Nixon better get him out.
–And if he don't?

Winters scrambles eggs while
we make the big jump with Sobel.

Not me.

–We're going through with this, right?
–We gotta do something.

–Yeah. –Yeah.

All right.

Good.

–Let's be clear of the consequences.
–I don't care about the consequences.

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 an act of mutiny while
we prepare for the invasion of Europe.

–Sgt Harris? –Sir.

Turn in your stripes.

You are transferred
out of my regiment.

–Sir. –Get out.

–Sgt Ranney? –Sir.

You're lucky I'm only
busting you to private.

All of you NCOs have disgraced
the 101st Airborne.

You're lucky we're on the eve of
the largest action in war history…

which leaves me no choice
but to spare your lives.

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

Get.

Keep them coming. Thattaboy.
That's it.

I can only speculate.
Most 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 convinced the other
NCOs to turn in their stripes?

As staff sergeants,
they have a great influence.

But the rest are good men.
I can work with them.

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-coms…

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

Yes, sir.

Division has established a parachute
training school at Chilton Foliat.

The idea is for non-infantry types…

vital to the invasion,
such as doctors and chaplains…

to take jump training there.

I can't think of anyone more qualified
to command such a school than you.

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 1st Squad in A-side tents there.

3rd Squad, second row…

Holy shit!

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

–ls all this real? –Yeah, yeah.

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

–lf you know what I mean.
–Not really.

You got a Luger?

–I'm dying to hold a real Luger.
–Yeah, go on, then.

Quick butchers, yeah?

–She's a doozy.
–That'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 Army's toughest training.

Under the worst circumstances.
And they volunteered for it.

I was just shooting craps with them-

You know why they volunteered?

So when things got bad, the man
next to them would be the best.

–Not a draftee who'll get them killed.
–Are you mad because they like me?

Because I'm getting
to know my soldiers?

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

–You were gambling.
–So? 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.

Call it 3-5-8.

For 10½ 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 Douve River estuary divides two
beachheads, code name Utah, here…

and Omaha, here.

Seaborne Infantry will hit these
beaches at a specified date and time.

H-Hour, D-Day.

Airborne's objective is to take
the town of Carentan…

linking Utah and Omaha
into a continuous beachhead.

Linking Omaha and Utah
into one continuous beachhead.

Each trooper will learn this operation
and know his mission to the detail.

–Lt Meehan? –Yes, Dukeman.

–Are we dropping tonight?
–We'll let you know.

In the meantime, study these
sand tables, maps and recon photos…

until you can draw a map by memory.

We'll drop behind
this Atlantic Wall…

five hours before the 4th Infantry
lands at Utah.

Between our assembly area and the
objective, there is a German garrison.

In this area, Sainte-Marie-du-Mont.

Easy Company
will destroy that garrison.

Three-day supply of K rations,
chocolate bars, powdered coffee…

sugar, matches, compass,
bayonet, ammunition…

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

cartons of smokes, Hawkins mine,
smoke grenade, Gammon grenade…

TNT, this bullshit
and a pair of nasty skivvies.

Your point?

This weighs as much as I do. I still
got my chute, my Mae West and M-1.

–Where are your brass knuckles?
–I could use some.

–Sgt Martin!
–Vest, anything for me?

Nope. Sgt Martin!

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.

You gotta love cops.

All right, listen up! Listen up!

If you did not sign your
GI life insurance policy…

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

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

–You hear, Gerry? –Lip!

Yeah, boy?

–Has Guarnere mentioned his brother?
–No.

I got a problem.

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

–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?

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

I don't know.

Why are they springing these
on us now?

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

Does anybody have any idea
how this thing works?

Colonel Sink.

Colonel Sink.

“Soldiers of the regiment:

”Tonight is the night…

”of nights.

”As you read this, you are en route
to the 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.

“Dearest Johnny?”

I got the wrong god-damn jacket.

“Bill Guarnere's brother…”

–Good luck, lads.
–See you, Tommy.

Give Jerry one for me.

Johnny.

You might be looking for this.

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.

Doc Roe is giving 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,
all we should have to deal with is…

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