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拯救大兵瑞恩 SAVING PRIVATE RYAN 英文剧本

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2021-02-11 12:29
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2021年2月11日发(作者:哺乳动物)



“SAVING PRIVATE RYAN”



By : Robert Rodat



FADE IN:


CREDITS:



White lettering over a back background.



The THUNDEROUS SOUNDS OF A MASSIVE


NAVAL BARRAGE are heard.



The power is astonishing.



It roars through the body, blows back the hair


and rattles the ears.



FADE IN:


EXT. OMAHA BEACH - NORMANDY - DAWN


The ROAR OF NAVAL GUNS continues but now WE SEE THEM FIRING.



Huge fifteen inch guns.


A SWARM OF LANDING CRAFT


Heads directly into a nightmare.



MASSIVE EXPLOSIONS from German artillery shells and mined


obstacles tear apart the beach.



Hundreds of German machine guns, loaded with tracers, pour out a red


snowstorm of bullets.


OFFSHORE


SUPERIMPOSITION:


OMAHA BEACH, NORMANDY


June 6, 1944


0600 HOURS


HUNDREDS OF LANDING CRAFT


Each holding thirty men, near the beaches.


THE CLIFFS


At the far end of the beach, a ninety- foot cliff.



Topped by bunkers.



Ringed by fortified machine gun


nests.



A clear line-of-fire down the entire beach.


TEN LANDING CRAFT


Make their way toward the base of the cliffs.



Running a gauntlet of explosions.


SUPERIMPOSITION:


THE FOLLOWING IS BASED


ON A TRUE STORY


THE LEAD LANDING CRAFT


Plows through the waves.


THE CAMERA MOVES PAST THE FACES OF THE MEN


Boys.



Most are eighteen or nineteen years old.



Tough.



Well- trained.



Trying to block out the fury


around them.


A DIRECT HIT ON A NEARBY LANDING CRAFT


A huge EXPLOSION of fuel, fire, metal and flesh.


THE LEAD LANDING CRAFT


The Motorman holds his course.



Shells EXPLODE around them.



FLAMING OIL BURNS on the water.



CANNON FIRE SMASHES into the bow.


THE MOTORAMAN IS RIPPED TO BITS


BLOOD AND FLESH shower the men behind him.



The mate takes the controls.


A YOUNG SOLDIER


His face covered with the remains of the motorman.



Starts to lose it.



Begins to shudder and weep.



His


name is DeLancey.


THE BOYS AROUND HIM


Do their best to stare straight ahead.



But the fear infects them.



It starts to spread.


A FIGURE


Pushes through the men.



Puts himself in front of DeLancey.


The figure is CAPTAIN JOHN MILLER.



Early thirties.



By far the oldest man on the craft.



Relaxed,


battle- hardened, powerful, ignoring the hell around them.



He smiles, puts a cigar in his mouth, strikes a


match on the front of DeLancey?s helmet and lights the cigar.



DeLancey tries to look away but Miller grips him by the jaw and forces him to lock eyes.



Miller smiles.



DeLancey is terrified.


DELANCEY


Captain, are we all gonna die?


MILLER


Hell no, two-thirds, tops.


DELANCEY


Oh, Jesus...


MILLER


I want every one of you to look at the man on your left.



Now look at


the man on your right.



Feel sorry for those to sons- of-


bitches, they?re


going to get it, you?re not going to get a scratch.



A few, including DeLancey, manage thin smiles.



Miller releases his grip on DeLancey who moves his jaw


as if to see if it?s broken.



Miller pats him on the che


ek and moves on to the bow.


MILLER


Looks over the gunwale at THE HELL IN FRONT OF THEM.


PAN DOWN TO MILLER?S HAND



It quivers in fear.



Miller glances around, sees that none of the men have noticed.



He stares at his hand as


if it belongs to someone else.



It stops shaking.



He turns his eyes back to the objective.


THE LEAD LANDING CRAFT HITS THE BEACH


The six surviving boats alongside.


EXPLOSIVE PROPELLED GRAPPLING HOOKS FIRE


From the landing crafts.



Arc toward the top of the cliffs.


THE LEAD CRAFT RAMP GOES DOWN


A river of MACHINE GUN FIRE pours into the craft.



A dozen men are INSTANTLY KILLED.


them, DeLancey.


MILLER


Somehow survives.



Jumps into the breakers.


MILLER


MOVE, GODDAMN IT!



GO!



GO!



GO!


EXPLOSIONS EVERYWHERE


THE GERMANS


On the edge of the cliff.



Rain down MACHINE GUN FIRE and GRENADES.


THE AMERICANS


Struggle through the surf.



FIRING up as best they can.



Making for the base of the cliffs.


INCENDIARY GRENADES, HURLED FROM ABOVE,


EXPLODE, SPREADING FIRE


MILLER


Ignores the EXPLOSIONS and BULLETS.



Uses hand signals and curt orders.


MILLER


THERE!


ROCKS!



THERE!



HOOKS THERE!



FIRE SQUAD, THOSE


THE MEN


Obey instantly.



Set the grappling hooks.



Take position.



Return fire.


THE SOUNDS OF BATTLE


Among



Drown out most voices.



Except the SCREAMS OF THE WOUNDED AND DYING.


THE MEN


Know what they have to do.



Start up the ropes.



Into the teeth of the German defenders.


MILLER


Back-straps his Thompson sub-machine gun.



Starts climbing with the first group.


THE CLIFF FACE


The Americans swarm up the ropes.



Taking turns firing up at the Germans.


MILLER SEES A STALLED CLIMBER


A soft-faced boy.



Grabs him by the back of his collar.



Roughly yanks him up.



Nearly choking him.



They boy climbs on.


HALF-WAY


An American private is HIT.



FALLS, taking two others with him.



All three land on the rocks below.



Another way to die.


NEAR THE TOP


Less steep.



They leave the ropes.



Free climb, scrambling up the rocks.


MILLER


Joins half-a-dozen pinned down men.



Others bottleneck behind them.



Miller scans the route and the


defenders.


Sees an open gap.



Deadly.



Beyond is a protective overhang.



With a clear line to the top.


MILLER


That?s the route.



Miller motions to six men huddled near him.


MILLER


Go!


THE SIX MEN


Take an instant to get ready.



Then SCRAMBLE into the gap.


MILLER AND THE OTHERS


Do their best to cover them.



POUR FIRE up at the Germans.



Bad angle.



No Germans are hit.


THE SIX MEN


Are CUT TO RIBBONS by MACHINE GUN FIRE.



All KILLED.



They fall to the rocks below.


SARGE, mid-


twenties, experienced, Miller?s rig


ht arm and best friend, dives into the rocks next to Miller.


SARGE


That?s a goddamned shooting gallery, Captain.



MILLER


It?s the only way.



MILLER


Turns to the next half-dozen men.


MILLER


YOU?RE NEXT!



THE SECOND SIX


Move to the head of the gap.



Miller moves for a better angle against the machine guns.



Calls to


JACKSON, a tall, gangly Southern country boy, sharp-shooter.


MILLER


JACKSON, PICK OFF A FEW OF THEM, WILL YOU?


JACKSON


(heavy Southern accent)


You betcha, Captain.


Miller signals others where to direct their cover fire.



Turns to the second six.


MILLER


GO!


THE SECOND SIX


Take deep breaths.



Head into the gap.


MILLER AND OTHERS BLAST SURPRISING FIRE


JACKSON, NAILS a pair of Germans.



MILLER CUTS DOWN two more.



SARGE gets one.



Not


enough.


THE SECOND SIX


Are RAKED BY MACHINE GUNS.



All are KILLED.


MILLER


Turns, looking for the next six.



His eyes fall on Sarge and REIBEN who is a cynical, sharp, New Yorker.



Reiben smiles.


REIBEN


(heavy Brooklyn accent)


Captain, can I put in for a transfer?


MILLER


Sure,


meet me at the top, we?ll start the paperwork.



THE THIRD SIX


Moves into place.



Sarge and Miller exchange a look.



They both see the madness of what they?re doing.



MILLER AND THE OTHERS


OPEN UP on the Germans.


MILLER


GO!


SARGE


Rolls his eyes, takes a breath.



Scrambles into the gap.



The other five right behind.


IN THE GAP


BULLETS EVERYWHERE.


Three are HIT.



Then another.



POTATO MASHER GRENADES bounce down.



EXPLODE below.


THE GERMAN MACHINE GUN swings toward Sarge and Reiben.



Miller sees them about to get it...


MILLER STEPS OUT INTO THE OPEN.


A perfect target.



Captain?s bars glinting.



FIRING.



TRYING TO DRAW THE GERMAN FIRE.



THE GERMAN MACHINE GUNNER


SEES MILLER STANDING IN THE OPEN.



Too much to pass up.



He swings the machine gun away


from Sarge and Reiben, toward Miller.


A ROW OF GERMAN BULLETS approaches Miller...he?s an instant from death.



SARGE AND REIBEN DIVE


Under the overhang to safety.


MILLER DIVES BACK TO COVER, BARELY MAKES IT, HIS BOOT HEAL IS BLOWN OFF.


UNDER THE OVERHANG Sarge and Reiben untangle themselves.


REIBEN


I?ll be Goddamned!



I?m not dead!



Sarge hollers back to Miller.


SARGE


CAPTAIN, IF YOUR MOTHER SAW YOU DO THAT, SHE?D BE


VERY UPSET!


MILLER


I THOUGHT YOU WERE MY MOTHER.


Quick smiles.



MILLER AND HIS RANGERS lean out and FIRE.



HIT more Germans.


SARGE AND REIBEN run up the path, under the overhang.



Stop near the top.



Pull pins on grenades.



Count.



Both throw long, arcing over the crest, perfectly aimed.


THE TWO GRENADES EXPLODE.


Putt out the two worst machine gun nests.


MILLER


Crosses the gap.



His men follow.


AT THE CREST


The Americans swarm over the top.



FIRING.


TWO DOZEN GERMANS FIRE BACK as they retreat.


Abandoning the perimeter defense of the bunkers.



The Germans are CUT DOWN.


MILLER motions to WADE, a small, wide-eyed, d


emolition man who?s struggling under the weight of


half-a dozen satchel charges.


MILLER


Okay, Wade, your turn.


WADE


Captain, I love it when you say that.


Miller, Sarge, Reiben and Jackson cover Wade as he races to the first of three bunkers.



Dodging bullets


from inside.



Wade tosses a SATCHEL CHARGE into a gun port.



A HUGE, MUFFLED EXPLOSION,


rocks the bunker.


MILLER AND SARGE


Survey the field.


SARGE


What the hell were you doing?



Drawing fire!


MILLER


Worked, didn?t it?



SARGE


You tryin? to get yourself ki


lled?


MILLER


Don?t need to, the Krauts go that covered.



Sarge shakes his head at Miller, then he looks over the cliff at the scores of men, their shattered, burning


bodies covering the rocks and the beach below.



He?s clearly affected.



Miller coldly glances at the dead and wounded.



Then he moves on, leading his surviving men toward the


two remaining German bunkers.



The SOUNDS OF BIG GUNS and MACHINE GUNS FIRE surround


him.


DISSOLVE TO:


EXT. WAR DEPARTMENT BUILDING - DAY


The SOUND OF CLATTERING MACHINE GUN FIRE SEGUES TO that of CLATTERING


TYPEWRITERS.



A huge government building stands in the heart of Washington, D.C.



SUPERIMPOSITION:


WAR DEPARTMENT


WASHINGTON, D.C.


JUNE 8, 1944


INT. COMMUNICATIONS OFFICE - WAR DEPT. - DAY


Very busy.



A dozen, somber military clerks work behind desks, quickly and efficiently.



No small talk.


A CLERK


Older than the others, sad-eyed, adds a sheet of paper to a large pile in his out-box.


CLOSE SHOT


An outgoing telegram.



It reads:



“We regret to inform you...killed in action...heroic service...”



This is


the paperwork of death.


THE CLERK


Pulls out a file.



Reads.



Finds something troubling.



Quickly shuffles through some other papers.



Finds


what he?s looking for.



Rises from his desk and hurries out of the office.



INT. LIEUT


ENANT?S OFFICE


- WAR DEPT. - DAY


Seen through the glass wall.



The clerk speaks to a YOUNG LIEUTENANT who is visibly shaken by what


he is being told.



He motions to the clerk to follow and he strides out of the office with the clerk on his


heels.


INT. CAPT


AIN?S OFFICE


- WAR DEPT. - DAY


Again, seen through a glass wall.



The Young Lieutenant speaks to a YOUNG CAPTAIN who, like the


Lieutenant is clearly bothered by what he?s being told.



The Captain takes the papers from the Young


Lieutenant and strides out.


INT. COLONEL?S OFFIC


E - WAR DEPT. - DAY


A busy office.



Aides and secretaries scurry about.



The walls and tables are covered with maps of


Normandy and complex deployment charts.



A ONE-ARMED COLONEL with a chest full of ribbons


pours himself another cup o


f coffee.



He clearly hasn?t slept in a long time.



The Young Captain, his staff


officer, walks in.


YOUNG CAPTAIN


Colonel, I?ve got something you should know about.



ONE-ARMED COLONEL


Yes?


YOUNG CAPTAIN


Two brothers died in Normandy.



One at Omaha Beach, the other at


Utah.



Last week in Guam a third brother was killed in action.



All


three telegrams went out this morning.



Their mother in Iowa is


getting all three telegrams this afternoon.


The life drains from the Colonel.



Others in the room hear and freeze.


ONE-ARMED COLONEL


Oh, Jesus.


YOUNG CAPTAIN


There?s more.



There?s a fourth brother.



The youngest.



He


parachuted in with the Hundred-and- First Airborne the night before the


invasion.



He?s on the front.



ONE-ARMED COLONEL


Is he alive?


YOUNG CAPTAIN


We do


n?t know.



The Colonel regains his bearings.



Stands and motions curtly to the Captain.


ONE- ARMED COLONEL


Come with me.


The Colonel regains his bearings.



Stands and motions curtly to the Captain.


ONE-ARMED COLONEL


Come with me.


The Colonel strides from the room with the Captain on his heels.



The aides and secretaries watch them go.


EXT. FARM ROAD - IOWA - DAY


A black car drives along a dirt road, a cloud of dust rising behind.



Passing through an endless expanse of


ripening corn.


EXT. RYAN FARM - IOWA - DAY


A whit farmhouse.



A barn.



A stand of trees.



Cornfields as far as the eye can see.


IN THE YARD


A tire swing.



A bushel basket nailed to the barn over a dirt basketball court.


A PORCH SWING


Sits empty.



Moves slightly.


ON THE GLASS OF THE FRONT DOOR


Four American flag decals.



Each one, a man in service.


MARGARET RYAN


Steps out.



Around sixty.



Her face shows the lines of a life of hard work and mother hood.



A good


woman.


She wipes her hands on her apron and looks out across the fields.



Far in the distance she sees the dust


rising behind the black car.


She watches the car get closer, then sees it turn toward her house.



She starts to grow uneasy.


As the black car approaches, her breath comes hard.



She reaches out and steadies herself on the porch post.


The car pulls up to the house.



She sees three men get out, one wearing a clerical collar.



The first of her


tears come.


INT. GENERAL MARSHAL


L?S OFFICE


- WAR DEPARTMENT - DAY


Another busy office filled with aides and secretaries.



GENERAL GEORGE MARSHALL, Army Chief of


Staff, stands next to his conference table, reading the Ryan brother? files.



Half


-a-dozen subordinates,


among them the one-armed Colonel and the Young Captain, wait.



General Marshall puts down the file.


GENERAL MARSHALL


(softly)


Goddamn it.


ONE-ARMED COLONEL


All four of them were in the same company in the 29th Infantry but we


split them up after the Sullivan brothers died on the Juneau.


GENERAL MARSHALL


Any contact with the fourth brother, James?


ONE-ARMED COLONEL


No, sir.



He was dropped about thirty miles inland, near Ramelle.



That?s still deep behind German lines.



General Marshall hardens.


GENERAL MARSHALL


Well, if he?s alive, we?re going to send someone to get him the hell out


of there.


That?s just what the General?s staff wanted to he


ar.


EXT. NORMANDY - CRATER FIELD - DAY


NEAR CONSTANT MORTAR EXPLOSIONS.



HEAVY MACHINE GUN FIRE.



Miller?s Ranger


company is pinned down by a superior force of German troops.



The Americans hug the bottoms of the


craters, FIRING BACK as best they can.



BIG GUNS THUNDER in the distance.



SUPERIMPOSITION:


Normandy


1300 hours


June 9


MILLER


Trailed by a RADIOMAN, dashes through the fire and dives into a sludge-filled crater.



He surfaces, sees


Sarge and Reiben, and reels from a horrific smell.



Their conversation is repeatedly broken by FIRING


And DUCKING GERMAN FIRE.


MILLER


Jesus Christ!



What the hell are we swimming in?


REIBEN


Shit, sir.


SARGE


Fertilizer, Captain, I think we?re in a cranberry bog.



REIBEN


Out of the frying pan, into the fucking latrine.


MILLER


Look at the bright side, the Krauts sure as hell don?t want to advance


and hold this cesspool.


Miller barks to his RADIOMAN.


MILLER


Get Fire Control, we need some artillery...


RADIOMAN


Trying, sir.


MORE EXPLOSIONS.



They all duck.



Reiben?s worried.



REIBEN


Sir, what if they send some other company into Caen ahead of us while


we?re pinned down here?



MILLER


Don?t worry, we?re the only Rangers this side of the continent, we?ve


got to be first into Caen.


SARGE


Who cares?


REIBEN


I care.



Don?t you know what Caen?s famous for, Sarge?



SARGE


Frogs?


REIBEN


Lingerie.


SARGE


Yeah?



So?


THE GERMAN FIRE diminishes for an instant.



Miller, Sarge and Reiben immediately rise and POUR


FIRE at the German positions.



GERMAN MACHINE GUN FIRE RESPONDS and they duck down


again.


REIBEN


So, you ever heard of employee discounts?



My uncle sells shoes, gets


twenty-five percent off everything in the line, got a closet filled with


the best looking shoes you ever seen.


MORE MORTAR EXPLOSIONS.


REIBEN


Just picture some French number been spending all day, every day,


making cream-colored, shear-body negligees with gentle-lift silk cups


and gathered empire waists, what the hell you think she wears at night?


MILLER


Reiben, how the hell do you know so much about lingerie?


REIBEN


Lingerie is my


life, sir.



My mother?s got a shop in Brooklyn, I grew


up in it, from the time I could crawl, we carry Caen lingerie, it?s the


best there is, it?s all I been thinking about since the invasion.



Another pause in the German shelling.



Reiben rises and BLASTS HIS B.A.R, then ducks as the


GERMANS RETURN FIRE.


MILLER


There?s a war on, good chance they?re not still making lingerie in


Caen.


REIBEN


Oh, Captain, they?ll always make lingerie, it?s one of the three basic


needs of man -- food, shelter, silk teddies.


MILLER


Dream on, private.


REIBEN


Happy to, sir.


RADIOMAN


Captain, I?ve got Command, they want you back at H.Q., right away.



MILLER


Maybe the war?s over.



A MORTAR SHELL EXPLODES VERY CLOSE.



After the debris stops falling, Sarge and Reiben rise,


spitting out sludge.



Reiben looks dubiously at Miller.


REIBEN


I don?t think so, Captain.



MILLER


(to Radioman)


Stay at it until you get fire control.


(to Sarge)


Keep ?em down, wait for the navy.



SARGE


Yes, sir.


Miller waits for a pause in the MORTAR BARRAGE, then scrambles out of the crater and takes off in a


crouch-run.


EXT. NORMANDY - FIELD H.Q. - 19TH INFANTRY - DAY


Chaos.



Under fire.



INTERMITTENT MORTARS, SOME BIG GERMAN SHELLS and fairly close


SMALL ARMS FIRE.


MILLER


Runs over the broken ground and makes it to the sandbagged H.Q.



He stumbles down the make- shift


stairs.


INT. H.Q. SANDBAGGED BUNKER - DAY


Sand and dirt falls with the closest of the EXPLOSIONS which continue through the scene.



Miller salutes


a Major.


MILLER


Miller, Company B, Second Rangers.


MAJOR


Go on in.


Miller goes deeper into the H.Q. bunker where he finds a dozen officers with as many aides, runners and


radiomen.



Very busy.



A field map dominates the center of the small space.


The men in the room note Miller, a few nod to him respectfully.



He


?s clearly someone special.



COLONEL SAM ANDERSON is in command, talking on a field-


phone.



He?s about fifty, firm and steady,


the calm at the eye of the storm.



He sees Miller and motions for him to wait.


COLONEL ANDERSON


(into field-phone)


...I understand


your problem, but if we don?t get those tanks off


-loaded


by 0600, we?re going to have an entire division up at Caen with its ass


hanging out of its pants...


A LIEUTENANT steps up to Miller and hands him a sheet of paper.


LIEUTENANT


Captain, here?s your co


mpany address list.


MILLER


My what?


LIEUTENANT


For letters to the families of your killed-in-action.


Miller hands the list back to the Lieutenant.


MILLER


Find a chaplain.


COLONEL ANDERSON


(into field-phone)


...alright, let me know when.


Anderson hangs up, speaks to an AIDE.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Have the Second and Third Regiments hold at St. Michel until we get


those tanks.


AIDE


Yes, sir.


Colonel Anderson turns to Miller.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Report.


MILLER


Sector four is secured, we put out the last three German one- fifty-fives,


found them about two miles in from Ponte du Hoc.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Resistance?


MILLER


A company, Wehrmacht, no artillery, we took twenty-three prisoners,


turned them over to intelligence.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Casualties?


MILLER


Fourty-four, twenty one dead.


An instant of SILENCE, all hear, none look.


MILLER


They didn?t want to give up those one


-fifty-fives, sir.


COLONEL ANDERSON


It was a hard assignment, that?s why you got it.



MILLER


Yes, sir.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Where are your men now?


MILLER


pinned down, a mile east of here, waiting for some help from the navy


guns.


COLONEL ANDERSON


I?m sending Simpson to take over for you, the division is going to


Caen, you?re not coming with us, I have something else for you.



MILLER


Sir?


COLONEL ANDERSON


there?s


a Private James Ryan who parachuted in with the


Hundred-and- First near Ramelle.



I want you to take a squad up there.



If he?s alive, bring him back to the beach for debarkation.



Take


whoever you need, you?ve got your pick of the company.



MILLER


A private, sir?


COLONEL ANDERSON


He?s the last of four brothers, the other three were killed in action.



This is straight from the Chief of Staff.


MILLER


But, sir...I...I...


COLONEL ANDERSON


Spit it out, Captain.


Miller hesitates, then:


MILLER


Respectfully, sir, sending men all the way up to Ramelle to save one


private doesn?t make a fucking, goddamned bit of sense.



(beat)


Sir.


The other officers freeze, listening without turning.



Colonel Anderson glares at Miller.


COLONEL ANDERSON


You think just because you hold the Congressional Medal of Honor,


you can say any damn thing you please to your superior officers?


Miller considers the question, then smiles.


MILLER


Yes, sir, more or less.


Colonel Anderson looks as if he?s about to bit Miller?s head off, then he smiles, t


oo.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Alright, I?ll give you that.



Continue.



MILLER


The numbers don?t make sense, sir.



His brothers are dead, that?s too


bad, but they?re out of the equation.



Sending men up there is


bleeding heart crapola from three thousand miles away.



One private


is simply not worth a squad.


COLONEL ANDERSON


This one is.



He?s worth a lot more than that.



Which is why I?m


sending you, you?re the best field officer there is.



Miller Shrugs.


MILLER


Yes and no, sir, what about Morgan?



Fine officer, regular church


goer, writes poetry, he might like a mission like this.


(beat)


And he?s taller than me.



Colonel Anderson listens with amused tolerance, but it?s time to get back to business.



COLONEL ANDERSON


That?s enough, Captain, you have your orders.



Major Th


omas will


fill you in.


Miller knows when to back off.



He salutes.


MILLER


Yes, sir.


Miller and Colonel Anderson exchange a private look.


COLONEL ANDERSON


Good luck, John.


MILLER


Thank you, sir.


Miller joins Major Thomas at one of the smaller map tables.



Colonel Anderson watches Miller for an


instant, then notices the other officers in the tent watching.



A glare and they go back to work.


EXT. BATTLESHIP - DAY


A MASSIVE BARRAGE of fifteen-inch shells BLASTS from the deck of the enormous ship.


EXT. CRATER FIELD - CRANBERRY BOG - DAY


HUGE EXPLOSIONS.



The big naval shells SLAM into the German position on the far side of the


cranberry bog crater field.


IN THE CRATERS


Miller?s Ranger company ducks and covers.



The BARRAGE SUBSIDES.



The Rangers rise, FIRING,


leap-frogging from crater to crater, advancing against the remaining Germans who return SMALL ARMS


FIRE.


MILLER


Crouch-runs and dives into a crater with Sarge.


MILLER


Put on your traveling shoes, Sarge, we?re heading out.



SARGE


Caen?


MILLER


I wish.



You and I are taking a squad up to Ramelle on a public


relations mission.


SARGE


You?



Leading a squad?


MILLER


Some private up there lost three brothers, got a ticket home.


SARGE


What about the company?


MILLER


Simpson.


SARGE


Simpson?



Jesus Christ on a fucking pogo stick!


MILLER


I want Reiben on B.A.R; Jackson with his sniper rifle; Beasley,


demolition.


SARGE


Beasley?s dead.



MILLER


Okay, Wade.



Translators?


SARGE


Fresh out.


MILLER


What about Talbot?


SARGE


Twenty minutes ago.


MILLER


Damn, I?ll go see if I can find ano


ther one.



You get Reiben, Jackson


and Wade, meet me at transport.


SARGE


Yes, sir.


They wait for a lull in the firing, then scramble out of the crater and crouch-run in opposite directions.


EXT. TRANSPORT H.Q. - NINETEENTH INFANTRY - DAY


Just in from the beaches.



DISTANT ARTILLERY AND EXPLOSIONS.



Nothing close.



Dust.



Confusion.



Vehicles of every sort moving out.



Tanks, half-tracks, troop trucks.



In the middle of the


mess, a cigar-chewing SUPPLY SERGEANT works at a make-shift desk made out of crate.



He yells at a


PRIVATE.


SUPPLY SERGEANT


GET THOSE GODDAMNED HALF-TRACKS OUT OF THERE!


PRIVATE


They?re blocked in!



SERGEANT


THEN UNBLOCK ?EM!



SARGE< REIBEN, JACKSON AND WADE


Wait nearby.



Reiben is beside himself, pacing, muttering.



The others are relaxed.


MILLER


Strides through the chaos, avoiding the passing vehicles.



He sees his men and walks toward them.



Reiben hurries up to Miller, pleading.


REIBEN


Please, sir, you can?t take me to Ramelle, I gotta go to Caen, sir,


please, I told you, they make Caen l


ingerie there, it?s beautiful, it?s the


best there is, it?s...oh, please, sir...



MILLER


Sorry, I need a B.A.R. man, you?re the best.



REIBEN


(desperate)


No, I?m not, Kaback is, honest.



Or what about Faulkner?



Or that


little guy with the glasses?


MILLER


Tr


ust me, you?re the best.



REIBEN


(whimpering)


But, sir...


Miller jerks his head for his men to follow and he strides off toward the Supply Sergeant?s table.



Sarge


falls in next to Miller.


SARGE


You get a translator, Captain?


MILLER


I?ve got a line on one.



TRANSPORT OPERATIONS TABLE


Chaos.



Vehicles THUNDERING by.



The Supply Sergeant juggles runners and paperwork.



Miller steps


up to him.


MILLER


Sergeant, I need a truck.


SUPPLY SERGEANT


Sorry, sir, fresh out of trucks, how ?bout a ?38 Ford Roadster, hard


-top,


red with black interior.


MILLER


White-walls?


SUPPLY SERGEANT


No white-


walls, sir, there?s a war on.



(to the Private)


NOT THERE, YOU GODDAMNED IDIOT, OVER THERE!


(to Miller)


I can?t help you, sir.



MILLER


A half-track, anything.


SUPPLY SERGEANT


Sorry, sir.



Division is using everything on wheels to get up to Caen.


(notices Miller?s shoulder patch)



How come you guys aren?t going?



Miller ignores the question.



He spies a jeep.


MILLER


How about that jeep?


SUPPLY SERGEANT


That?s General Gavin?s.



His lap dog t


old me if anyone breathes on it,


I?ll get busted and if anyone so much as touches it with their little


finger, I?ll get court marshaled.



If you were to take it, they?d shoot


me.


JACKSON


Cap?n, does that mean we got to walk all the way up to Ramelle?



SUPPLY SERGEANT


What?s at Ramelle beside a lot of Germans.



MILLER


A paratrooper named Ryan.



He?s going home, if he?s alive.



SUPPLY SERGEANT


Senator?s son?



MILLER


No, three brothers of his were killed in action.



Command wants him


out of there.


The Supply Sergeant grunts as if punched in the belly.


SUPPLY SERGEANT


Damn...I got a couple brothers...


Miller looks at him, noting his reaction coldly.



The Supply Sergeant shifts his eyes toward General


Gavin?s jeep.



EXT. ROAD LEADING FROM TRANSPORT - DAY


Miller and hi


s men drive off, fast, in General Gavin?s jeep.



Sarge is at the wheel, weaving and bouncing


through the bedlam of men and vehicles.



Miller rides shotgun.



Reiben, Jackson and Wade are crammed


in the back.


The SUPPLY SERGEANT


Watches them go.



Behind him, GENERAL GAVIN, pure piss and vinegar, strides up, trailed by his huge


staff.



He looks around for his jeep, comes up empty.


GENERAL GAVIN


SERGEANT, WHERE THE HELL IS MY GODDAMNED JEEP!?


The Supply Sergeant puffs his cigar with a smile and turns to take his lumps.


EXT. ROAD - DAY


Miller and his men weave through the chaos of the American staging area.


MILLER


We?ve got to make one stop.



Miller points the way for Sarge.


EXT. INTELLIGENCE TENT - DAY


Miller and his men skid to a stop in front of a perfectly white, taut-lined tent.



A steady stream of


ROARING vehicles and CHATTERING men move out around them.



DISTANT GUNS RUMBLE.



SPORADIC MEDIUM-DISTANCE EXPLOSIONS BOOM.



Miller hops out.


MILLER


Wait here.


He strides into the tent.


INT. INTELLIGENCE TENT - DAY


T


hree bookish corporals hover over map tables like studious nerds the day before finals.



They?re breaking


down and gridding field maps and covering them in plasticine.



Tedious, detailed work.


One of them is TIM UPHAM, a thin, twenty-four year old, patrician with gentle, thoughtful eyes behind his


thick glasses.



He nervously jumps at the sound of a VERY DISTANT EXPLOSION, then he forces


himself to concentrate on his work.



Miller strides in.


MILLER


I?m looking for Corporal Upham.



Upham raises his eyes from his map and re-focuses.


UPHAM


Sir, I?m Upham.



MILLER


I understand you speak French and German.


UPHAM


Yes, sir.


MILLER


Do you have an accent?


UPHAM


A slight one in French.



My German is clean.



It has a touch of the


Bavarian.


MILLER


good, you?ve been re


-as


signed to me, we?re going to Ramelle.



Upham knows enough geography to know what that means.


UPHAM


Uh, sir, there are Germans up at Ramelle.


MILLER


That?s my understanding.



UPHAM


Lots of them.


MILLER


Do you have a problem with that, Corporal?


UPHAM


Sir, I?v


e never been in combat.



I make maps.



I translate.


MILLER


I need a translator, all mine have been killed.


UPHAM


But, sir, I haven?t held a gun since basic training.



MILLER


It?ll come back to you.



Get your gear.



Upham hesitates.


UPHAM


Sir, may I bring my typewriter?


Miller looks at him closely, not sure if he?s joking.



UPHAM


I?m writing a book and I...



Miller?s expression gives him his answer.



UPHAM


Uh, how about a pencil?


MILLER


A small one.


Miller shoos him off.


MILLER


Go, go...


Upham scurries away.



Miller sighs.


EXT. ROAD LEADING FROM INTELLIGENCE TENT - DAY


Miller and his men peel out, now with Upham crammed with the others in the back of the jeep.



As they


drive off, the CAMERA CRANES UP to reveal the vast tableau of the biggest invasion in military history.


The scope of the operation is stunning.



The beach is covered with mountains of supplies.



A steady


stream of vehicles winds up the dunes.



Hundreds of barrage balloons, anchored by heavy steel cables,


hover over the entire scene.



Off-shore, a massive Mulberry port is under construction, workers swarming


over it like ants.



Beyond that, thousands of ships and boats of every type and description.



The smoke of


hundreds of fires rises on the horizon.



EXPLOSIONS, some distant, some close, BOOM and RUMBLE.


It?s an awesome, breathtaking sight.



Miller and his tiny band of men, weave their way through the middle


of it, speeding away from the beach, heading inland, leaving the bulk of the American Army behind.


EXT. FRENCH ROAD - DAY


Miller and his men drive fast passing American vehicles and infantrymen moving forward.



The sides of


the road are littered with the debris of burning German vehicles, abandoned equipment, bodies.


Sarge drives.



Miller reads a map.



Upham, cradling a pristine M-1 rifle, is all eyes and ears.



Jackson


and Wade calmly take in the view.



Reiben checks out the close quarters in the back of the jeep.


REIBEN


Captain, can I ask you a question?


MILLER


Sure, Reiben.


REIBEN


Where are you planning on putting Private Ryan, sir?


Miller doesn


?t raise his eyes from the map.



REIBEN


(continuing)


It?s just that it?s kind of crowded back here, I was wondering if you?re


expecting to have more room on the way back?


Miller points out a turn to Sarge.


MILLER


Left.


Sarge makes the turn.



Miller folds up the map and pockets it.


MILLER


Now we?ve got a straight shot, due north, to Ramelle, twenty


-six miles,


two villages between here and there, St. Mere, then Bernay.



We?ll


take the jeep as far as we can, then go on on foot.


SARGE


We in radio contact with anybody up there?


MILLER


Somebody put the wrong crystals in every one of the


Hundred-and-


First?s radios the night before the drop, not one of them


works.



We?re going in blind.



REIBEN


I usually like surprises.


SARGE


What are we likely to run into?


MILLER


A fucking mess, two maybe three Kraut divisions, no fronts, no lines,


the drops were completely fouled up, we?ve got little pockets of


paratroopers all over the place, trying to hang on.



Command says we


hold St. Mere, but north of that, it?s all Krauts.



Even if Ryan?s where


he?s supposed to be, he?s more than likely dead.



SARGE


Hell of a mission.


MILLER


Yep, hell of a mission.


IN THE BACK OF THE JEEP


Upham avidly takes in everything.



He notices Reiben staring at him, grows nervous under his look and


offers a hopeful smile.


UPHAM


Hi.



So, uh, you?re all Rangers?



Reiben, Jackson and Wade look at Upham as if he were an insect.


I?m Upham.



(pointing at his corporal?s stripes)



Ignore these, please, I know all that breaks down in combat.


Their jaws drop.


REIBEN


(to Wade)


You want to shoot him, or should I?


WADE


It?s not my turn.



UPHAM


REIBEN


(politely)


Jackson?


JACKSON


Hell, no, last time I shot a corporal, Cap?n Miller near bit my head off.



Upham reacts to the metion of Miller?s name.



UPHAM


Miller?


MILLER


I don?t want anybody to shoot him, that?s an order.



He speaks French


and his German has a touch of the Bavarian.


UPHAM


Sir, are you Captain John Miller?


Miller sighs, he knows what?s coming.



UPHAM


(continuing)


...who won the Congressional Medal of Hon...?


Upham?s words are frozen in his throat by the warning glances of Miller?s men.



Miller himself remains


relaxed but stone-faced.


No one speaks for a few seconds, then the moment passes as if it had never happened.


REIBEN


Captain, I gotta tell you, the irony of this mission is fucking killing me.


MILLER


Yeah, how so?


REIBEN


I should be on my way to Caen, sir.



It?s like Beethoven, the guy?s


one of the greatest composers ever lived and he goes deaf.



Go figure,


I mean, who?d he piss off?



And here I am, the Beethoven


of ladies


foundation garments, one step away from Caen, the center of the


known lingerie universe and instead, I?m going to Ramelle to save


some fucking private who?s probably already dead.



MILLER


There?s to be a bright side, look for it.



REIBEN


Sir, you know what Ramelle is famous for?



Cheese.



The rest of the


company is going to Caen and we?re going to the goddamned cheese


capital of France.



There is no bright side.


MILLER


There?s always a bright side.



REIBEN


I?m listening, sir.



MILLER


well, I, for one, like cheese.


Wade pipes up cheerfully.


WADE


Hell, I don?t mind going to Ramelle, as long as there?s something up


there for me to blow up.


REIBEN


Well, you?re a happy idiot.



THEY ROUND A TURN


Skid to a stop at a:


BOTTLENECK OF AMERICAN VEHICLES


A LIEUTENANT is roadmaster.



Miller calls to him.


MILLER


How?s the road up to St. Mere?



LIEUTENANT


Bad, sir.



There?re some eighty


-eights hiding somewhere, knocking


the hell out of our traffic.


MILLER


Anybody getting through?


LIEUTENANT


The lucky ones.


Miller nods to Sarge who floors it.



They take off, spraying gravel behind them.


EXT. ST. MERE ROAD - DAY


The jeep barrels down the road, fast.



The road is pock- marked with craters.



They pass the wreckage of a


pair of American jeeps.



Direct hits.



Sarge swerves around them without slowing.


AN AMERICAN TROOP TRUCK SMOLDERS


On the side of the road, surrounded by the charred bodies of a dozen American troops.



It?s a nightmare


vision.



Upham grows weak at the sight.



Miller takes note of Upham?s reaction.



IN THE BACK


The men bounce up and down like stuffed animals, doing their best to not be thrown out.


REIBEN


Hell, this is better than Coney Island!


A HUGE BUMP


Bounces Reiben up and slams his back down on his shovel.



He HOLLERS IN PAIN.


MILLER


Just trying to make room for Ryan.


Reiben shoots Miller a smile and shifts his belt, moving his shovel from under his bruised ass.


THEY ROUND A BEND


See a long, straight stretch of road.



Half-a-dozen burning, obliterated American vehicles.



A gauntlet to


run.


AN EIGHTY- EIGHT SHELL SCREAMS IN


Lands right behind them.



BLOWS A NEW CRATER


MILLER


Sarge?


(sweetly)


SARGE FLOORS IT.



Everyone hangs on.


ANOTHER SHELL EXPLODES


Thirty yards ahead of them.


MILLER


Directs Sarge off the road.


MILLER


They?ve got the road zeroed.



SARGE


Yanks the wheel, driving the jeep off the road.


THE JEEP BOUNCES


Off the shoulder.



Nearly throwing everyone out.



Somehow they hang on.


rutted field.


ANOTHER EXPLOSION


Just behind them.


SARGE DRIVES MADLY


Not slowing down.



Trying to avoid the biggest ruts and bumps.


ANOTHER EXPLOSION


Close on their side.



Showers them with debris.


SARGE


Jesus Christ!


MILLER SCANS THE TERRAIN


The jeep tears along the



Sees a cluster of buildings about half- a-mile ahead.


MILLER


They?ve got a hell of a spotter somewhere.



ANOTHER EXPLOSION


even closer.



The jeep?s PEPPERED WITH SHRAPNEL.



They BARREL THROUGH the smoke.



MILLER


S-curves, Sarge.


SARGE


Turns shallow curves without slowing down.


SUDDENLY SEES A CRATER


Tries to avoid it.



Too late.



Brakes.



PLOWS into overturned earth.



STOPS SHORT.


REIBEN, UPHAM, WADE AND JACKSON


THROWN from the jeep.



TUMBLE into the dirt.



Not hurt.


SARGE AND MILLER


Hang on.



Stay in the jeep but are battered.



All stunned.


MILLER


Is first to regain his bearings.



Jumps up.



Checks out the jeep.



Undamaged.



Deep in the soft dirt.


AN EIGHTY-EIGHT SHELL SCREAMS IN


EXPLODES THIRTY YARDS LEFT


MILLER


Sarge!



Reverse!


Sarge puts his head back on and throws the jeep into gear.



The wheels spin.



Miller throws his shoulder


into the jeep.



Yells to the others.


MILLER


COME ON!



YOU WANNA WALK?


STILL DAZED


Reiben, Wade, Jackson, Upham screw their heads back on.



Shoulder into the jeep.



Push for all they?re


worth.



The WHEELS STILL SPIN.


ANOTHER EIGHTY-EIGHT SHELL LANDS EXPLODES THIRTY YARDS RIGHT


MILLER IGNORES IT


He?


s the only one who does.


SARGE


Captain, they got us zeroed.


Upham is very nervous.


UPHAM


That?s bracketing, right?



They all ignore him.


UPHAM


I know about bracketing.


land right on us.



I read about it.



The next one is going to


MILLER


FORWARD!



FORWARD!


NOW REVERSE!


(beat)


Sarge SLAMS THE JEEP INTO REVERSE.



Rocks it.



SLAMS IT BACK INTO FORWARD.


progress.


ALL THE MEN PUSH, ALL EYES UP.



WAITING FOR THE NEXT SHELL.


SARGE


Uh, Captain...


MILLER


PUSH!


SARGE


Uh, Captain...


THE TIRES SCREAM


A bit more pr


ogress.



It?s almost out.



THEY ALL PUSH LIKE MANIACS


Knowing the shell is coming any second.



Upham is beside himself.


SARGE


Oh, Captain...


(sweetly)


ONE MORE PUSH


The jeep rocks back in, deeper.


MILLER


SHIT!


THEY HEAR THE SCREAM OF THE SHELL


MILLER BARKS TO HIS MEN


Makes



MILLER


GO!


THE MEN


Instantly take off.



Away from the jeep.



As fast as they can.


THE SHELL SCREAMS IN


The men hit the dirt.


DIRECT HIT


OBLITERATING THE JEEP


THE MEN


Barely out of the BLAST PERIMETER.



STUNNED by the concussion.



SHOWERED with dirt, rock


and debris.


MILLER


Is first up.



Sarge and the men struggle to their feet.



Hear MORE INCOMING.



Miller grabs Upham by


the collar and pulls him up.


MILLER


HERE COME THE MORTARS!


THEY ALL TAKE OFF


Running as fast as they can.


THE FIRST OF THE MORTAR SHELLS COME IN


The eighty-eight is big, with pauses spaces between.



But there must be a dozen mortars firing.



The shells


are almost constant.


THE FIELD


The six Americans run madly, in zig-zag patterns through the gauntlet of MORTAR EXPLOSIONS.


BOOM


RUNNING, STUMBLING


BOOM, BOOM, BOOM


UPHAM IS THROWN TO THE GROUND


Miller yanks him up.



Half-drags him to the edge of the field.


THEY MAKE IT TO THE TREES


Keep running.



Through the bushes and brambles.



Thirty yards in.


THE EXPLOSIONS STOP


THE MEN ALL STOP


Panting.



Struggling to catch their breath. Check their body parts.



Everything?s there.



They have their


weapons, most of their gear.


Reiben looks back through the trees at THE JEEP, which is nothing more than a burning carcass.



He


shakes his head.


REIBEN


General Gavin is going to be very irritated at you, Captain.


MILLER


Stands on the edge of the woods, almost in a trance.


UPHAM


Captain, I...


SARGE


Sssssh!


Miller, far away, quickly shifts his eyes and ears from position to position.


MILLER


Sarge, maps.


Sarge quickly opens up the map case.



The men are dead silent, frozen in place.


MILLER


Two eighty-eights, just under two-and- a-half miles, that way, vector


from the jeep, through those two trees at the base of the hill.



The


mortars came from behind that rise, there, four of them.


Sarge quickly starts vectoring on the map.



Miller snaps out of it.


MILLER


Wade, the radio.


Wade instantly starts cranking it up.



Upham is amazed.


UPHAM


You can tell all that, just by the sound, sire?


MILLER


That?s not all.



There


were nine gunners on the eighty-eights, one had


a broken heel on his boot, two had bratwurst for supper last night, one


of them is named Fritz, the other, Hans, maybe, I don?t know, it?s hard


to tell.


JACKSON


Corporal, you have just seen one of Captain Mi


ller?s many God


-given


talents.



If, by some miracle, you survive, you will witness many


more of them.


Sarge finished vectoring.


SARGE


Got it, sir.



We gonna go take care of those eighty-eights?


MILLER


That?s not what we?re here for.



WADE


(re. radio)


I?ve g


ot command, Captain.


Miller takes the handset from Wade and the map from Sarge.


MILLER


(into radio)


This is Baker Charley One, fire mark, sector three, foxtrot quadrant,


four-three by baker-three.



Two eighty-eights.



Tell our boys to


come in low from the east in case the Krauts have ack-ack.



Good


hunting.



Over.


A VOICE ON THE RADIO SIGNS OFF through the static.



Wade packs up the radio.



Miller folds up the


map.


JACKSON


sir, wouldn?t take us but a minute to put out them eighty


-eights.


SARGE


He?s right, C


aptain, it might be kind of dangerous for those flyboys.


MILLER


Tell that to Private James Ryan.



We?ve got our orders.



Let?s go.



miller heads off without pausing or looking back.



The rest of the men don?t like it, but they follow.



Upham trails, amazed at Miller.


EXT. WOODS - DAY


Miller walks point.



His men follow warily.



Upham falls in alongside Reiben.


UPHAM


So, where are you from?


REIBEN


Get lost.


Upham smiles lamely and moves on to Jackson.


UPHAM


So, where are you from?


JACKSON


You writin? a book or somethin??



UPHAM


As a matter of fact, I am.


JACKSON


Figured.


Wade overhears and smiles at Upham.


WADE


I?m Wade, that?s spelled, W


-A-D-


E, I?m small but wiry, with piercing,


steel-gray eyes, and a rough-


hewn but handsome face, I?m from


Colorado, my father?s a mining engineer, don?t you take notes?



Upham shakes his head.


UPHAM


Demolition, right?


WADE


Since I was nine years old.



They got a lot of explosives around


mines.



Me and my little brother could get into any warehouse you


ever saw.



Damn, we had fun!


Jackson shrugs.


JACKSON


I?m Jackson.



I?m from West Fork, Tennessee.



My pappy?s a


preacher.



Him and his two brothers got a ministry, The Blessed


Church of the Wandering Gospel.


UPHAM


In West Fork?


JACKSON


In the back of a nineteen and thirty-one stretch


Hudson with a big ole?


trailer.


UPHAM


No kidding.


JACKSON


I don?t make jokes about things of, or related to, the preaching of the


Holy Gospel, including the ministerial calling of my family.


UPHAM


So they travel around from place to place and preach?


JACKSON


We got us a tent, forty-two feet across, eighteen feet at center,


hundred- and-


ten foldin? chairs.



Circuit?s eleven towns, covers all ?a


Hasset County and most ?a Weller County.



I expect that upon


completion of my military service I will be joinin? sai


d ministry.


UPHAM


What about the Captain?



Where?s he from?



They all shake their heads.



Miller?s out of earshot.



JACKSON


you figure that out, you got yourself one nice prize.


SARGE


Over three hundred bucks, last I heard.


WADE


Company?s got a pool, five bu


cks gets you in, whoever guesses where


the Captain?s from and what he did as a civilian gets it all.



JACKSON


The whole kit and caboodle.


UPHAM


But everybody?s heard of him, he won the Congressional Medal of


Honor, he saved a dozen men.


REIBEN


We know.


UPHAM


Somebody must know where he?s from, what he did for a living.



SARGE


Somebody probably does.


UPHAM


Why don?t you just ask him?



JACKSON


The Captain prefers not to discuss certain aspects of his life, in


particular, everything up to and including his enlistment in the United


States Army.


SARGE


I?ve been with him since Anzio.



I?m closer to him that I am to my


own brother but I don?t even know what state he?s from.



Somewhere


in the Northeast as near as I can figure.



I don?t even have a clue what


he did for a living as civilian.


Reiben shakes his head.


REIBEN


No one?s gonna win the money for the simple reason that the Captain


never was a civilian.



They assembled him at O.C.S. out of spare


body parts from dead G.I.?s.



I know this for a fact.



JACKSON


(defensively)


You got somethin? against the Cap?n?



REIBEN


Hell, no.



I think he?s the best officer in the whole goddamned army,


bar none.


They all nod in assent, no argument there.


JACKSON


You got that right.


Miller walks on ahead, unaware of their conversation.



Upham watches Miller, with even more curiosity.


EXT. HEDGEROW FIELD - DAY


Miller and his men walk along a hedgerow that parallels a country cow path.



They?re staying close to the


cover of the brush.



Miller walks tall now.


JACKSON


Captain, my feet are mos


t uncomfortable.



If I?d ?a known we was


gonna have to walk all the way to Ramelle, I never would ?a


volunteered for this here mission.


MILLER


You didn?t volunteer, Jackson.



JACKSON


I most likely would have, sir, had I been given the opportunity.


REIBEN


If


we find Ryan and he?s still alive, that son


-of-a-bitch is gonna carry


this goddamned B.A.R. back to the beach for me.


JACKSON


Army life is too dang easy, my feet have gone soft.



Back home, we


go out squirrel huntin?, I walk forever and a day and then some, don?t


even raise a blister.


REIBEN


You know what a B.A.R. weighs?



Nineteen and a half pounds, not


counting ammo.


(re. ammo bandoleers)


And you think these things are comfortable?



They may look good but


they weigh twelve pounds each, that?s thirty


-six pounds, right there.


WADE


So what?



I?ve got three satchel charges, six gammon grenades, a


dozen- and-a-


half pineapples, and all my regular gear.



You don?t hear


me complaining.


REIBEN


That?s because, as I have pointed out on numerous occasions, you are a


happy idiot.


WADE


No, I just happen to take the Captain?s advice and look at the bright


side of things.


UPHAM


How do you do it?


WADE


it?s easy, it runs in my family, take my grandfather, for example...



REIBEN


Oh, Christ, now we gotta listen to that grandfather thing again.


WADE


As I was saying, before I was so rudely interrupted, my grandfather got


old, as grandfathers tend to do.



He needed someone to take care of


him.



We move around all the time, going from one mine to another,


so we had to put him in a home.



Nice enough place but kind of


depressing.



But not for Granddad.



He just convinced himself he


was on a cruise ship, going to Tahiti, he had his own cabin, first class,


with room service.



It just so happened that the weather was always


lousy, so he never bothered to go up on deck.



Happiest guy you ever


saw until the day he died.


UPHAM


You think he really believed it?


WADE


Who knows?



It worked.


REIBEN


Fine, you convince yourself you got a pack full of feathers and


goddamned Private James Ryan can carry my fucking gear.


WADE


Reiben, you can be very unpleasant to be around sometimes.


REIBEN


You want unpleasant?



Just wait, I can do much better than this.


WADE


Look at Upham, you don?t hear him complaining.



Upham, feeling bold and a bit naughty, decides to give it a shot.


UPHAM


Well, as a matter of fact, I was just thinking...


The men roll their eyes, expecting the worst.


UPHAM


(continuing)


That I?m so fucking tired of this goddamned walking, I?d pay a


thousand dollars to see that bastard Ryan crawl on his belly over an


acre of broken glass to hear my great-aunt Martha fart through a


field-phone.


The men are stunned.


REIBEN


Jesus Christ, he?s a natural!



MILLER


Upham, are you sure you?ve never been in combat?



Upham wiggles with pride.


UPHAM


Positive, sir, I


?m certain I?d remember.



Miller eyes Upham respectfully and nods to the men.


He?s good.



They walk on.


MILLER


JACKSON


Cap?n, my feet are most uncomfortable.



Miller smiles, situation normal.


EXT. ST. MERE - LATE AFTERNOON


A small town has been reduced to rubble and is still an active battlefield.



HEAVY SMALL ARMS FIRE.



GRENADE AND MORTAR EXPLOSIONS.



MEDIUM ARTILLERY BEYOND.



American soldiers


crouch in doorways, FIRING at well-placed Germans.


Some French civilians dash across a street.



A man and a couple of women, one carrying a child.



They


make it across and disappear into the remains of a building.


Miller runs up and flattens himself against a wall at a corner.



Sarge and the other men follow in leap-frog,


spread out down the block behind him.


Miller gl


ances around the corner, taking a quick mental picture of a GATHERING OF G.I.?s crouching in


the cover of an alley across the street and down the block.



They are CAPTAIN HAMILL, about Miller?s


age, and HIS MEN.


As Miller ducks back behind the corner, A GERMAN BULLET SMASHES into the bricks where his head


was an instant before.


Miller motions Jackson across first.


MILLER


Stay low.


Jackson gathers himself, takes off.



GERMAN BULLETS BLAST, kicking up the cobblestone behind him.



Jackson zig-zags and makes it to the cover of the far side.


JACKSON


Dang!



That was close!


Miller nods to Upham.


MILLER


Your turn.


Upham, scared shitless, doesn?t move.



Miller speaks to him very gently.



MILLER


Zig-


zag, change your pace a couple times, you?ll be alright.



Upham?s froze


n.



He can barely breathe.



Miller sighs.


MILLER


Okay, I?m going to draw fire for you.



(sternly)


But if I do, you goddamned well better go.


Upham nods.



Miller gathers himself, takes a deep breath.


CLOSE SHOT:



MILLER?S HAND quivers.



MILLER


Looks to Upham


MILLER


Ready?


Upham nods, still terrified.


MILLER STEPS INTO THE OPEN


Stands motionless, presenting himself to the German snipers.


MILLER


Go.


Upham runs.


A GERMAN BULLET HITS THE BRICKS NEAR MILLER.


He doesn?t budge.



UPHAM TEARS ACROSS THE STREET very, very fast.


REIBEN watches Upham run.


REIBEN


Hey, that guy can move.


A GERMAN BULLET WHIZZES PAST Miller?s ear.



UPHAM gets to the far side.


MILLER DUCKS BACK around the corner.



Reiben and Wade don?t even react to what Miller has just


done.



Sarge is pissed.



He shakes his head at Miller, like an irritated parent.


SARGE


(under his breath so only Miller can hear)


Damn fool.


(beat)


Sir.


REIBEN


Captain, he?s fast!



MILLER


(glances at Sarge, speaks to Reiben)


Glad of it.


UPHAM


On the other side of the street, crouches in a doorway with Jackson.



Upham is a bit in shock, less from the


nearness of the bullets than from what Miller just did for him.


MILLER


DASHES across the street.


GERMAN BULLETS TRAIL HIM, shattering the cobblestones, inches behind him.


HE MAKES IT across.



Calls back to Sarge.


MILLER


Bring ?em over.



UPHAM, tries to thank Miller.


UPHAM


Captain, I...


Miller ignores him, motions to Sarge, Reiben and Wade.


MILLER


One at a time.


MILLER


Ducks out of the doorway and crouch-runs down the block.



He passes a:


BOMBED OUT BUILDING


Out of the line of fire.



A dozen dead American soldiers lined up on the ground.



The battered, bloody


bodies, only partially covered by ponchos.


Some badly wounded G.I.?s are being treated next to the dead.



Blood puddles have spread ou


t onto the


sidewalk.


MILLER


Sees the dead and wounded, shows no reaction.



Runs to:


AN ALLEY


Captain Hamill and his men are bunched there, out of the line of fire.



He?s sending off a squad to continue


their door-to-door.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Fundamentals, short runs, double up at the corners, one man close, one


man wide.



Be careful.



Go.


The squad takes off.



Captain Hamill sees Miller.



The two captains glance at the bars on their shoulders,


then speak familiarly.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


How was the road in?


MILLER


We had a jeep until a few hours ago, a nice one, it had a cute little flag


with a couple of stars on it.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Oh, what a shame.


One by one, Miller?s men join them in the alley.



MILLER


We called in a strike on the eighty-eights that took it out, but


it?s the


Kraut spotter that counts, wherever the hell that bastard is.


Captain Hamill points across a wide field toward a distant chateau that has a private chapel with a fifty-foot


steeple.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


That?s where your boy is.



We?ve been trying to ge


t him since this


morning.



He killed two of my men trying to get close enough for a


shot.


Miller eyes the distant steeple.


MILLER


Jackson.


Jackson steps up.



Miller points to the steeple.



Jackson knows what he?s supposed to do.



He puts down


his M-1 and takes off the long, zippered, leather sheath, strapped to his back.


He spits a massive bullet of tobacco juice, then calmly and methodically unzips his leather case and pulls out


a very unusual, long-barrel, rifle.


Miller and his men give him some room.



Hamill and his men, along with Upham, watch curiously.


Jackson opens a two- foot tripod with a flick of his wrist, sits down and carefully attaches the rifle to it.



Then he takes a scope from a narrow wooden box and mounts it.



He adjusts the eye-piece and clicks in the


bolt-action.



Upham is fascinated.


UPHAM


What is that?


Jackson pulls back the bolt and loads a single, over-sized shell.


JACKSON


thirty-ought- six, Norton long-barrel with dual-groove, parallel rifling,


elevated three-glass scope and a single-throw hammer.


UPHAM


The Army gave you that?


JACKSON


Yep.


UPHAM


You must be a hell a shot.


JACKSON


Not where I come from.


Jackson sights on a tree about a thousand yards away and FIRES.



Evaluates.



Calibrates the scope.



He


re-loads.


Jackson FIRES AGAIN.



Evaluates.



Perfect.



He wipes the dirt and sweat from his forehead, puts his


eye to the sight and waits, absolutely motionless.


UPHAM


That must be four thousand yards.


JACKSON


(without taking his eye from the scope)


Forty-two-hundred, I figure.


UPHAM


You take account of the wind?


Jackson doesn?t dignify that with an answer but he looks back with an expression that clearly says, “What


are you, some kind of fucking idiot?”



Reiben puts himself between Upham and Jackson.


REIBEN


(put-on Southern accent)


Dang rig


ht, he take ?count of the wind, ain?t ya?ll ever heard a


Kentucky windage?


Jackson keeps his eye to the scope and his finger on the trigger.


JACKSON


Reiben, how many time I got to tell you, I?m from Tennessee.



REIBEN


They got squirrels there, too, right?


Jackson FIRES.



Waits.



A tiny smile.



He starts taking apart the rifle.



A very impressed Captain


Hamill barks to his radioman.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Get a hold of Command, tell them the St. Mere road is open.


The Radioman cranks up his radio.



Captain Hamill turns to Miller.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


How far back is the rest of division?


MILLER


Very far, they?re not coming this way, they?re going to take Caen first.



CAPTAIN HAMILL


Goddamn it, I was afraid of that.



We?re in a lot of trouble up here,


and it?s gonna get worse


before it gets better.



How many men did


you bring?


MILLER


Five, but we not staying, we?re on our way to Ramelle.



CAPTAIN HAMILL


Shit, are you the guys going up to find Private Ryan?


MILLER


Yeah, you know about that?


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Command radioed, wanted to know if he came in with the early


wounded or dead.


Several of CAPTAIN HAMILL?S MEN, among them a GENTLE


-FACED PRIVATE, prick up their ears at


the mention of Private Ryan.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


We?re supposed to tell you, they intercepted a German transmission



after you left.



The Krauts have two companies on their way to


Ramelle to take back that bridge, they?ll be there sometime late


tomorrow.


MILLER


Wonderful.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


If Ryan?s alive, you?d better get him the hell out of there before those


Krauts show up.


MILLER


How do we get out of here?


CAPTAIN HAMILL


You don?t, until tonight, we?re hemmed in real tight.



After dark you


try to slip out to the east.



If you tip-toe, stay off the main roads and


roll a few sevens, you?ve got a fair chance of making it u


p to Ramelle


by tomorrow night.


Miller processes the information.



Captain Hamill shakes his head.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Tough, huh?



Three brothers?


Miller shrugs.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


We sure as hell could use your help here, but I understand what you?re


doing?


MILLER


Yeah?


CAPTAIN HAMILL


Good luck.


MILLER


Thanks.


CAPTAIN HAMILL


I mean it.



Find him.



Get him home.


Miller is a bit taken aback by Captain Hamill?s forceful sincerity.



Then he shakes it off and motions to his


men.


MILLER


Let?s find someplace to hole up.



Miller nods to Captain Hamill, then, as he moves to the head of the alley, Miller passes Upham.


UPHAM


Sir, I?m sorry about what happened, I...



MILLER


(interrupting)


It was nothing.


UPHAM


But you could have gotten killed and I...


MILLER


(interrupting)


Like I said, it was nothing.


(to the men)


Don?t bunch up.



He takes off, crouch-running back down the block.



Upham watches him go.


UPHAM


Did you see what he did, back there?



He stepped right into the open,


so I could get across.


JACKSON


Shit, that was no big deal.


WADE


They can?t kill him.



SARGE


Like hell they can?t.



REIBEN


Wade?s right, it?s some kind of scientific, magnetic thing, I can?t


explain it, but I?ve seen it.



WADE


We all have, he?s got nine lives, or he?s bulletproof, or some damn


thing.


The men are equal parts joking and admiring.



Sarge is neither.


SARGE


No one?s bulletproof.



No one.



(beat)


C?mon, stay low.



Sarge takes off after Miller.


EXT. ST. MERE CATHEDRAL - DUSK


Miller and his men are bivouaced in the middle of the ruins of a medieval church.



Miller, settled into a


comfortable spot in the debris, eating his K-rations, looks very relaxed.



Reiben paces.


REIBEN


Miller smiles.


Captain, could you please explain the math of this mission to me?


MILLER


Sure, what do you want to know?


REIBEN


Well, sir, in purely arithmetic terms, since when does six equal one?


What?s the sense in risking six guys to save one?




MILLER


Ours is not to reason why.


REIBEN


Huh?


MILLER


Never mind, don?t worry, we?ll pick up this kid, high


division, everything?ll work out fin


e.


-tail it back to


REIBEN


I?d much rather die in Caen than Ramelle, sir.



It?s a personal thing.



MILLER


Reiben, there?s a fairly good chance you?re not going to die at all.



REIBEN


Easy for you to say, sir.


Fucking James Ryan, I?d like to wring his fucking neck.


(beat)



SARGE


Jesus, Reiben, think of the poor bastard?s mother.



REIBEN


Hey, I got a mother.



Jackson, you got a mother?


JACKSON


Last I knew.


REIBEN


Wade, Sarge, Corporal Insect, all of us, hell, I?ll bet even the Captain


has a mother.


Reiben eyes him and reconsiders.


REIBEN


Well, maybe not the Captain, but the rest of us have mothers.


MILLER


You have orders, too.


JACKSON


Sir, I have an opinion on this matter.


MILLER


I?d love to hear it.




JACKSON


Seems to me, Cap?n, this mission is a serious misallocati


on of valuable


military resources.


MILLER


Go on.


JACKSON


Well, sir, by my way a thinkin? I am a finely made instrument of


warfare.



What I mean by that is, if you was to put me with this here


sniper rifle anywhere up to and includin? one mile from Adolf Hi


tler,


with a clear line of sight, war?s over.



Miller nods.


MILLER


Reiben, I want you to listen closely to Jackson.



This is the way to


gripe.



Jackson, continue.


JACKSON


Yes, sir.



It seems to me, sir, that the entire resources of the United


States Army oughta be dedicated to one thing and one thing only, and


that is to put me and this here weapon on a rooftop, smack-dab in the


middle of Berlin, Germany.



Now I ain?t one to question decisions


made up on high, sir, but it seems to me that saving one private, no


matter how grievous the losses of his family, is a waste of my


God-given talent.


MILLER


Wade?


WADE


Hell, I don?t mind this mission, sir, as long as there?s something up at


Ramelle for...


REIBEN


(finishing Wade?s sentence)



...for you to blow up, yeah, yeah, we heard that.


MILLER


Upham?


UPHAM


Pass.


MILLER


Sarge?


SARGE


I?m just here to keep a bunch of numb


-nuts, including one certain,


frequently suicidal, tempter- of-fate, from getting themselves killed.


Reiben eyes Miller.


REIBEN


And what about you, Captain?


Miller looks at Reiben, shocked.


MILLER


Reiben, what?s the matter with you?


captain.


only up, never down.



There?s a chain of command.



I don?t gripe to you.



Griping goes one way, up,



I?m a


officers.


you.



How long you been in the army?



Up, get i


t?




You gripe to me, I gripe to my superior


I don?t gripe to you, I don?t gripe in front of


REIBEN


I?m sorry, sir, I apologize.



But if you weren?t a captain, or if I were a major, what would you say?


(beat)



Miller considers his response.


MILLER


In that case, I would say this is an excellent mission, with an extremely


valuable objective, worthy of my best efforts.


Reiben rolls his eyes.



Miller plays it straight, with no obvious sarcasm.


MILLER


In addition, as I pointed out earlier, I have a fondness for cheese and I


(continuing)


hope to have the opportunity to sample some of the Ramelle products,


when we arrive there, to see if they live up to their excellent reputation.


Moreover, I feel heartfelt sorrow for the mother of Private James Ryan



and I?m more than w


men, especially you, Reiben, to help relieve her suffering.


illing to lay down my life, and the lives of my


The men thoroughly enjoy the performance.


REIBEN


Sir, if you were not a captain, I would compliment you, now, for being


an excellent liar.


MILLER


But I am a captain.


compliment and tell you that the ability to lie comes from being a



If I were not a captain, I would thank you for the


top-notch poker player, which I am, having learned at the side of my


mother who is, by popular acclaim, the best poker player in...


The men all



learn forward expectantly, believing they?re about to find out Miller?s home town.


smiles.


MILLER


...my home town, which shall remain un- named.


(continuing)


The men ease back, disappointed.


MILLER


Any further thoughts on the subject?


REIBEN


Yes, sir, as a final note, I?d like to say, fuck our orders, fuck Ramelle,


fuck the cheese capital of France and while we?re at it, fuck Private


James Ryan.


Miller



MILLER


I?ll make a note of your suggestions but I?ll leave that last one to you,



especially if he?s already dead.



The men wince and laugh.



Miller checks his watch and gets serious.


MILLER


We move out in two hours, try and get some sleep.


The men know when to can it.



Without another word, they all settle down into the debris, close their eyes


and try to follow Miller?s order.



Upham looks around at these strange men, then, a simple, hard glare from


Miller makes him follow suit.


Miller looks at his men, then pulls out his map case and his flashlight.



He turns it on, in the dim glow of


the light, he studies his maps while his men rest.


EXT. ST. MERE CATHEDRAL - NIGHT (LATER)


Dark.



ARTILLERY RUMBLES IN THE DISTANCE.



Reiben, Jackson, Wade and Upham sleep.



Miller still sits in the glow of his flashlight, studying his maps.



Sarge lies near him, awake, watching him.



Sarge notices some unopened envelopes in Miller?s map case and speaks quietly to him.



SARGE


You ever going to open those letters?


Miller keeps his eyes on the maps.


MILLER


Maybe.


SARGE


It?s not normal, not reading letters fro


m home.


MILLER


Since when have things been normal?


SARGE


You got me.



Afraid of bad news?


MILLER


Nope.


SARGE


Good news?


Miller looks at Sarge.



A moment passes between the two of them, then miller takes refuge in the maps.



Sarge looks at the men.


SARGE


Yo


u think they?ll be alright?



MILLER


They?re fine.



As long as they can gripe, they?ll be alright.



SARGE


And what about you?


Miller considers the question, doesn?t answer.



MILLER


They guys here aren?t going to be able to hold out until battalion shows


up.


SARGE


Nope.


MILLER


Command isn?t going to let them withdraw and the Germans sure as


hell aren?t going to let them surrender.



SARGE


Three for three.


MILLER


If we stayed, we could make a difference.


SARGE


You?re kidding yourself.



MILLER


You never know.


They sit in silence for a moment.


SARGE


I hope this boy Ryan is worth it.


MILLER


Now you?re the one kidding yourself.



(beat)


Hell of



a mission.


SARGE


Yup, hell of a mission.


Miller looks at his watch, rises and barks at the men.


MILLER


Rise and shine, boys.



Let


?s go.



Grumbling, the men get up and start shouldering up their gear.


EXT. ST. MERE STREET - NIGHT


SMALL ARMS FIRE ECHOES through the village.



DISTANT ARTILLERY BOOMS.



Miller leads his


men from the ruins of the cathedral toward the outskirts of town.



Th


ey?re just a small squad, but these six,


heavily-armed men, in full battle gear, are very formidable-looking.


EXT. ST. MERE - OUTSKIRTS - NIGHT


Miller?s men are getting ready to move out.



Captain Hamill and a few of his men are there to see them off.



Suddenly:


A FLASH OF LIGHT APPEARS ON THE HORIZON


Then REPEATED FLASHES OF LIGHT.



The sky is on fire.



The AIR TREMBLES.



A FAR OFF


RUMBLING THUNDER ROLLS over the countryside like a tidal wave.


Then, THE OPPOSITE HORIZON LIGHTS UP AS WELL.


IT?S A MASSIVE AR


TILLERY BATTLE.



The MAGNITUDE OF THE FURY is incredible, strange,


other- worldly.


EVERY MAN THERE IS TRANSFIXED.


Frozen in place.



The lights play on their faces.


MILLER looks down and sees his hand quivering.


SARGE notices, says nothing.


MILLER stares at his hand, forcing it to stop.


Their eyes go back to the BLAZING SKY.


SARGE


(awe- struck)


Makes you feel small, doesn?t it?



MILLER


It doesn?t take this.



Upham?s face shows more fear than awe.



UPHAM


I wasn?t made for this.



MILLER


(bitterly)


You think the rest of us were?


Upham recoils.



Miller instantly regrets his words.



He turns to Upham and sees that he?s really scared.



Miller get a hold of himself and speaks gently.


MILLER


Don?t worry, Upham, God?ll protect you, this shit?s gonna keep him up


all night, anyway.


Upham manages a slight smile.



Miller watches the lights for a moment more, then he pretends to shrug it


off.


MILLER


Let?s go, this ain?t what they pay us for.


-


-


-


-


-


-


-


-



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