Sgt.
Guarnere,
did you keep any morphine?
-No.
Doc, l gotta talk to you.
-How's that leg?
-Forget the leg, l'm pissing needles.
-Later.
-You seen them?
-No.
But they're out there.
Depend on it.
-Cup of Joe, doc?
-Gordon, l need sharp scissors.
Scissors? Well, let's see,
l'll have to check the sewing room.
Might be upstairs in the study,
the desk drawer.
All right.
What about an extra Syrette
in your aid kit?
Hide your morphine, guys--
-Muck, you okay?
-l'm good.
-Malarkey! Penkala!
-We're okay!
Will you look at this shit?
They peppered my helmet.
Hey, doc! Morphine!
-Here, take it.
-Where's Penkala?
Christ knows.
Medic!
Doc!
-Medic!
-You guys hit?
-Easy, doc.
How you doing?
-Hey, are you crazy?
Watch the goddamn line!
-You got a Syrette?
-What?
Medic!
Go.
Medic!
-Doc!
-Penkala!
-lt's the artery.
-Penkala, let go.
-lt's a damn artery!
-Loosen your fingers, damn it!
Relax your arm.
lt's not the artery.
l ain't going back.
l ain't going, not in this shit.
-And you're yelling ''medic''?
-l don't need no aid station.
You're in luck, Penkala.
We don't got no aid station.
-You got scissors?
-What do l need scissors for?
Got your aid kit?
Right, well, you don't need this.
Not yet.
l do.
-Who got hit?
-Penkala.
Here.
l want you to take someone
and find the 3rd Battalion, okay?
Bandages, plasma,
whatever you can beg, you beg.
And get me some damn scissors.
l can't get any.
You get yourself a hot meal too, huh?
Go.
-He told me he's a goddamn virgin.
-Who?
The replacement in my foxhole, Julian.
Goddamn virgin.
Just a kid.
The only virgin l know
is the Virgin Mary.
Hey, Babe.
Where the hell are we?
This way.
-l don't like it.
-Where the hell is 3rd Battalion?
-Shit.
-Come on.
Give me a hand.
Go.
Go.
-Come on, Spina.
Move.
-l'm moving.
l'm moving.
We can spare a few bandages,
but that's it.
No morphine.
-Go back to Bastogne for plasma.
-Bastogne?
-Doesn't your surgeon have plasma?
-We don't have one.
-Just me and my buddy.
-Sorry, but we can't help you.
Take cover!
Get your butts out of here!
-Let's go.
-Go! Move!
-Should have shot Hinkle in the ass.
-Hinkle nearly shot him.
God bless you.
-These smell like my armpit.
-At least your armpit's warm.
-You want syrup with that?
-What's in these?
-Nothing you won't eat, Malarkey.
-l won't eat Malarkey.
-Maybe Hinkle would like your share.
-l should have shot him.
-Anybody seen Lieutenant Dike?
-Try Battalion CP, sir.
-Try Paris.
-Try Hinkle.
Hinkle, l'm home.
Eugene, Lt.
Dike's got a full aid kit.
-He's not using his.
-Maybe Hinkle's got a Syrette.
-Eat your strudel.
-Hinkle Vinkle, eat ze armpit, huh?
Lieutenant Dike.
Lieutenant.
Can you spare some Syrettes
from your aid kit?
-What, morphine?
-Yes, sir.
-What happens if l get hit?
-l'll be there, sir.
-Syrette's in here, right?
-Yes.
-Here.
l don't plan on getting hit.
-Thank you, sir.
Heffron, you okay?
Gene, what's with the Heffron shit?
You know my name.
Use it.
lt's Edward, right?
Are you serious?
Only the goddamn nuns call me ''Edward.
''
-You have any morphine from Holland?
-No.
You asked already, remember?
No.
l don't recall.
Gordon, you want me?
Yeah, morphine.
3rd Platoon
ponied up the contraband.
-Still looking for scissors?
-Yes.
Perconte.
-Doc.
-Thank you.
You'd better check on Joe Toye out
on the OP.
He's missing something.
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