Johnny Got His g*n (1971)

[bunniefuu]

How did you get him
so quickly?

A medical team heard
the shell coming in.

Apparently, he did, too.

Chest and belly
practically unmarked.

Curious how they always
double up in the fetal position.

What's curious about it?

They're trying to
protect their genitals.

Well, this young man
unfortunately succeeded.

Any identification?

No, sir.

Then we'll assume he's ours.

I'll need to take personal
charge of this case

until repairs are completed.

That could be
rather a long time,

Colonel Tillery.

Wouldn't you say, Captain,

that it's worth a year
of any doctor's life

to observe
a case like this?

You'd never know what
has happened to him.

The one part of his brain
that has escaped damage

is the medulla oblongata.

It is only because of this

that his heart, vasal, motor,

and respiratory centers
still function.

In short, that he lives.

Unidentified casualty
number 4-7.

Post-operation orders,

Colonel M.F. Tillery,

U.S. Army Medical Corps.

Although the cerebellum
still permits

limited physical movement,

said movement
signifies nothing.

Bodily actions
have become violent,

and are persistently
repetitive

and must be treated as
reflexive muscular spasms--

which is to say, by sedation.

The cerebrum has suffered
massive and irreparable damage.

Had I not been sure of this,

I would not have
permitted him to live.

There's no justification
for his continued existence

unless we learn from him
how to help others.

Care for him as gently

as if he knew
what you were doing

and would feel the pain
if you did it badly.

Attending personnel
will remember that

good medical care forbids

emotional involvement
with the patient.

Avoid such involvement
by remembering

that it is impossible for
a decerebrated individual

to experience pain,
pleasure, memory,

dreams, or thought
of any kind.

It follows, therefore,
that this young man

will be as unfeeling,
as unthinking as the dead

until the day he joins them.

Kareen?

Kareen?

What happened?

Where am I?

It's dark in here.

Shouldn't have
turned the lights out.

Your old man
will be sore.

Oh, Mike won't care.
He loves me.

Only could I just
ask you one thing?

Why'd you have to volunteer?

Only six months
from the draft anyhow.

Pinkie and Larry
have already gone.

You could have been exempt
because of your sisters.

My mother's got a job.

Besides, when the country
needs you, you've gotta go.

You should go.

I don't think
anybody should go.

They'll k*ll you.

Oh, I could get k*lled
at the bakery, too,

or crossing the street.

I can take care of myself.
Don't worry.

Lots of people get k*lled
who don't think they'll be.

Lots of people come
back, too. Most of 'em.

Most of them, Joe,
they never come back.

Oh, if anything ever
happened to you,

I'd just die.

Ah, you're only
saying that.

I love you.

I do love you.

Stop it.

I won't have this
in my house.

You think you're sitting in
the back seat of a flivver?

Now get up. Both of you,
get up like decent people.

Come on, get up.

But he's going away
in the morning.

I know, I know.
Get in the bedroom.

Both of you.

I ain't much.

25 years
in the coal mines,

carryin' an IWW card.

Now, what am I?

g*dd*mn railroad
bull, that's what.

Oh, anyhow.

Go on in there
with her. She's scared.

Go-- Go on in.

Yes, sir.
Put your arms around her.

You know how to
treat her, don't you? Yes, sir.

Uh--

She isn't a whore.
You know that, don't ya?

Yes, sir.

Eh, go to bed, son.

Yes, sir.

Son.

I see you.

Nice room.

Mike fixed it up
for my graduation.

Picture's crooked, though.

It was my mother's.

Why don't you
take your shoes off?

Okay.

Joe.

Yeah?

Could you turn your back?

Why?

I have to get out of bed.

No. I want to see you.

I won't let you see me.

Would you get me my robe?

Sure.

It's on the closet
door. It's red.

Okay.

Why'd you do that?

Hot night.

Here it is.

Bring it
closer, silly. Uh-uh. Reach for it.

All right, here.
I'll help you.

Oops.

Let's get it
through here.

There. There you go.

I'll get it right.

Here, let me show you.

Now we got it. There.

Huh?
No.

We should have flowers.
Hm? Sure.

If you really
want to see me--

Oh, if you don't
want me to,

I don't want to, either.

Well, fair is fair.

Okay.

It's nice like this,
isn't it?

Mm-hmm.

Have you ever been this
way with anyone else?

Not with anyone I loved.

I'm glad.

Have you?

You shouldn't
ask that.

Why not?

Because I'm a lady.

You're a mick.

No, I've never
been this way

with anyone
else before.

I know.
But you couldn't have known.

Not really.

Joe, I don't
want you to go.

I want you
to run away.

You don't want me
to see Paris, France,

that's all.

Don't go, Joe.
Please don't go.

Run away.

Where to? Shipyards?

Anywhere.

I'll hide you,
honest I will.

Want me to be
a slacker, huh?

Yes.

Oh, they'll k*ll you,
Joe. I know they will.

In the words of
that great patriot

Theodore Roosevelt--

I love you, Joe.

Hold me closer.

Put both your arms
around me.

Both of them.

Let us pray.

Our Father--

I can't pray like that.

All I can say is
dear God,

don't make him go away.

Don't let him be k*lled.
I won't be.

All aboard!

All aboard!

Why don't they turn the lights on?

It's dark in here.

It's dark and still,

and I can feel the blood
pumping through my veins.

But I can't hear
the pulse in my ears.

If you can't hear
your own pulse, you're deaf.

You're deaf, Joe.

Deaf.

Maybe not.
Maybe I'm just dreaming.

Maybe-- oh, Jesus
Christ, I hurt!

I can feel the sweat
pouring out of my skin.

Hot, wet skin that's
all covered up with--

with bandages.

Even my head.

I sure must've
caught a big one.

No.

Telephones in the middle
of the night

are bad luck.

Don't let anybody
answer it, Father.

What's this? Footsteps.

I can feel
their vibrations.

What are they doing?

Any evidence of
hypostasis

while aspirating?

None thus far.

They're looking
at something.

Trachea tube clear.

A hand on my chest.

He's breathing well.

No more oxygen unless
an emergency develops.

I don't understand that.

Can you lift for
intravenous feeling?

Good.

My face.

Is something wrong
with my face?

Skin grafts will
be necessary here.

Colostomy good.

Cystotomy functioning?

Uh-huh.
Very good.

What next?

Is the ambulance
ready? Yes, sir.

Very well.
Bring him along.

Where are you
taking him, sir?

Occupation forces
base hospital

number 3 at
Jeanville St. Clears.

All right.
Let's move it.

David's Perfection Bakery.

Rudy McKenna speaking.

It's Rudy.

Telephone, Joe.

Okay, coming.

Hello.

Yes, Mother.
I'll be right home.

Thank you.
I'll let you know

when everything's
finished, okay? Okay, Joe.

I'll be back to work
in a couple days.

That's all right.
Rest up. Good night.

I'm sorry, Father.

I'm sorry I lost
your fishing pole, too.

I loved you.

Well, the bandages
are off my arm.

It itches.

I wish they'd
scratch it.

What happens now?

Yes, we can remove
the sutures.

Let's disinfect.

I wish they'd get
this stuff off my face

so I could see
what they're doing.

Sorry, sir.
Another.

Ouch!

They're pinching me.

No, it's more like a--

a little s*ab of heat.

Wait a minute.
I know.

It's just like when
I ran into

the barbed-wire fence
and cut my eyebrow.

They sew you up,
and then it heals,

and then they take
the stitches out.

Only-- Well, only
this is different.

I can feel what they're
doing to my arm,

but I can't feel the end
of my arm at all.

The nearest thing
to the end of my arm

is the heel of my hand.

The heel of my hand,
the end of my arm.

It's too high.

It's high
as my shoulder.

You've cut off my arm!
The tissues have closed.

My arm! Oh, my God.
Remove the wrist.

Why did you do
a thing like that?

I need that arm.

Oh, I've gotta
work with it. I--

You can't go around
cutting a man's arm off,

like you were pruning
dead branches off a tree!

Well, there's
a law or something!

You've gotta get
his consent

before you do
a thing like that.

He's gotta sign a paper

because a man
with only one arm

is a cr*pple, and--
and all he can do

is go around
selling pencils!

Oh, no!
Not my other arm, too!

No, no! Please, no.

You've already taken
one of my arms--

I want him moved to
the least conspicuous room

you can find,
for his own good.

A room with a lock
and something over the windows

so they can't peer
in at him.

There isn't a decent
unoccupied room in the building.

Utility room?
Supply room?

Store room? Anything.

He can't tell
the difference.

Put someone
in here who can.

There's a game out there,

and the stakes are high.

And the guy who runs it
figures the averages

all day long
and all night long.

Once in a while,
he lets you steal a pot.

But if you stay
in the game long enough,

you've got to lose.

And once you've lost,
there's no way back.

No way at all.

Hit me.

Pay 20.

Christ, I sure could
do with a shot of whiskey.

Help yourself.

Bets down.

How'd you learn that?

I used to do it
at weddings.

Hey, can you do
card tricks, too?

Sure.

Cards to the gamblers.

Hit me.

I'm just fine.

Boy, I'm just fine.

Hit me.

Stan?

Hit me,
but not too hard.

Now, watch him get 21.

Pay 21.

It's a funny thing,

I can do
almost everything

but hit a 12.

12 shouldn't be
any harder to hit

then a 13, should it?

Shouldn't be, but it is.

That's nothing
but superstition.

A 12 to hit
is just the same

as any other
number above it,

only better.

Don't let anybody
tell you different.

Assembly. What time
is it anyhow?

Three Christmases
and 41 days.

Time to go.

If I don't make
that train, I miss--

I miss a date to be k*lled

on the 27th of June

at 4:30 a.m.
in the morning.

Not too good
for my kid, huh?

He's only a year,
eight months,

and smart as hell
already.

Sure wish I could see
him when he was 5.

You'll see him
when he's 50.

And you'll still be 23.

What the hell?
We're all gonna be k*lled.

That's what we're here for.

He's already got his.

And the big Swede here,
he's gonna catch flu

and die on shipboard.

I'm gonna get buried
in a trench cave-in

and smothered to death.

Now, isn't that
a hell of way to go?

Jeez.

All aboard!

Next stop, New York,

Atlantic Ocean,
and Paris, France!

What's this guy doing here?

He ain't gonna get k*lled.

Leave him alone.
He's all right.

Come on, boys.
On your feet.

We've got to make
that train.

Are you going with us?

Of course. I've got
lots of trains to handle.

Lots of dead men.

So many dead men,

you wouldn't believe it.

Not my legs! Not my legs, too!

Oh, God, no.

Not my legs, too.

Help me, somebody.

Help me.

Don't let them
cut my legs off.

Don't let them take my legs, too.

Jesus.

They just went ahead
and chopped off everything.

Of course,
it's a lot cheaper

to cut a leg off
than fix it up.

With a w*r going on,
they haven't got much time.

Everybody is tired.

But, what kind of doctor
would cut a man down

to what I am now

and still let him live?

Do they have a bet on?

Were they showing off
or something?

Was it some kind
of experiment?

No.

Nobody would do
a thing like that

to another man.

Nobody could be
such a butcher.

My dear students,

w*r has various meanings

to various persons.

To the scientist,

w*r means that he
is actually set free

to accomplish
his most brilliant

and most imaginative
enterprises.

For example,

in previous wars,

each injury has resulted

in a very serious loss
to the taxpayers,

the loss of a most
expensively trained soldier--

or fighting unit,
as we call him now.

However, in the next w*r,

we shall be able to repair

and deliver that
same fighting unit

to the frontline trenches

in three weeks
or even less.

And all because

of the radical
new techniques

which this young man
has taught us.

I'm having a nightmare
that says I'm real.

Wake me up, Mother,
and tell me I'm not real.

I don't know where you are, my son,

or what troubles you.

Try to remember that God
is the only reality,

and that you are made
in his image and likeness.

And since you are
the perfect reflection

of God's reality,

you are real.

You're wrong, Mother.

It's a dream.

It's got to be.

Everything else
is true, but not this.

No, I remember
the real things, Mother.

Even before we left Colorado
and moved to Los Angeles.

I remember everything.

Ouch.

You hurt yourself,
son?

Uh-uh.
Let's see.

Oh, honestly.

Someday those feet
are gonna get so dirty,

they'll
never wash clean.

From now on, I'm gonna
take my baths at the YMCA,

the way Daddy does.

For behold, I bring
you tidings of great joy

that shall be
to all people.

For unto you is
born this day

in the city of David,
a savior,

which is Christ the Lord.

And suddenly there was
with the angel--

See those rocks
over there?

A long time ago,
they caught

a hunting party
of Ute Indians there.

Know what they did?
Rounded 'em up,

tied rocks around their feet,
and threw 'em in the lake.

About where we are now.

The, uh, fishing on this
side of the lake's been good ever since.

Science and Health
with Key to the Scriptures,

by Mary Baker Eddy.

"All is infinite mind

"and its infinite
manifestation.

"Matter is mortal error.

"Spirit is the real
and eternal.

"Matter is the unreal
and temporal.

"Spirit is God,

"and man is his image
and likeness.

"Therefore,
man is not material.

He is spiritual."

Those were the real things, Mother.

What I am now is in a dream.

There is no more reality

to the waking dream
of mortal existence

than there is to
the dream we have in sleep.

Reality is God.

And the essence
of God is love--

that perfect love

which banishes all fear

and heals all wounds.

Stop it. I don't
want to hear anymore

about God is love.
Prepare an injection.

Because If I do,
I'll begin to hate him.

When did you
aspirate him last? 4:30.

Gavage feeding?

2:00 and again at 4.

No, no.
Don't put me under again.

I've gotta figure
some way out of this mess.

Father, I need help.

I'm in terrible trouble,
and I need help.

Father?
Did you hear me?

Father?

I hear ya, son. But I
got troubles of my own.

Nothing I have in this world
is really any good, you know?

My house is small.
My job is small.

My salary is also small.

Son is small.
So is my wife,

and get right down to it,
I'm no giant, myself.

Everything
around me is small,

inferior,

except this fishing pole.

I, myself,
wind it every year

with the best
of silk thread.

See this lacquer?

Comes from China.

No finer lacquer
in the world.

See those guides?

Pure amber.

Nobody in town has
a fishing pole like this.

Not even Mr. Ladamer
down at the bank.

My life is so poor
and shoddy

that without this pole,
why,

I'd have nothing to set me
apart from other men.

Nothing to give me distinction,
nothing at all.

That's why
I love it so much.

Do you love it more
than you love me?

'Course I do.

What is there about you
that can give a man distinction?

You're not unusual at all.

Yes I am, Father.

How's that?

I may not be
unusual now,

but I'm going to be.

Of course you are.

You're gonna make the world
safe for democracy, aren't ya?

What is democracy?

Well, I was never very
clear on it, myself.

Like every other
kind of government,

it's got something to do
with young men

k*lling each other,
I believe.

Why don't old men
k*ll each other?

Well, the old men
are needed

to keep the home
fires burning.

Couldn't the young men
do that just as well?

Young men don't have homes.

That's why they must go out
and k*ll each other.

When it comes my turn,

will you want me to go?

For democracy,

any man would give
his only begotten son.

I wouldn't.

I won't be here
to stop you, Joe.

Put your arms around me.

I need their warmth

to keep the chill
of death away.

I can't.

Please?

No!

Well...

I guess it always
comes down to that.

Each man faces
death by himself.

Alone.

From now on, it's
a simple matter

of good nursing care,

I can always be
reached at GHQ

if anything develops.

Let's try the mask.

Thank God. They're
finally getting

this stuff off my face.

The air feels good.

Feels cool.

Repairs seem to
have healed well.

What's this?

You see?

Works very well.

Any questions?

Good luck.

It's better.

It does let
the air in.

But I thought when
they unbandaged my face,

I'd be all healed.

She's cleaning
my breathing tube.

I thought when they took
this stuff off my face,

they'd take
the tubes out, too.

But they didn't.

I don't understand.

Where is she going now?

Oh, yes. I know.

I've still got
my feeding tube.

When am I gonna
be able to feed myself?

When am I going to get well?

Dinner's over.

But it won't always
be like this, will it?

Now wait.

Think for a minute.

There's something
funny here--

something cool,
something wet.

I thought my face
was just wrapped up,

when they unwrapped it,
I could--

Oh. Oh, please, I--

Now, get a hold
of yourself, Joe.

Don't lose your head.

Your jaws.

You can't move your jaws.

They don't work.

You haven't got any.

Well, take your tongue, rub
it around inside your teeth

like you were chasing
a raspberry seed.

I-- I haven't got any tongue!

I-- I haven't got
any teeth for it to feel.

I haven't got anything
here but a hole.

How big is it?

How-- How does it go?

Now don't panic.

Think.

Inside of the hole is--
is wet.

The edges of it are dry.

Wet, dry.

Yes, that's it.

Now, figure out
where it's dry.

Feel. Yes.

I'm feeling.

Dry-- And shouldn't
the hole go up?

Up.

No eyes.

I haven't got any eyes

or mouth or teeth,
tongue, or nose.

I haven't gotten anything,

but my whole face
is scooped out!

Oh, Jesus Christ,
it's me, and I'm alive!

Oh, no. It can't be!

Not me! I--
I can't live like this!

I-- I can't.

Please, no, I can't--
I can't!

Help me. Somebody
please help me.

Mother, where are ya?

Help me, Mother.
I'm having a nightmare

and I can't wake up.

If you don't wake me up
I'll be like this for years

and years

and years

Pray for me, please.

Please, pray for me.

To all those
in the armed forces

who sacrificed
their young lives

in this just and holy w*r

for everlasting peace,

I grant absolution
of all their sins.

In the name of the Father

and of the Son

and of the
Holy Ghost, amen.

Let us pray.

A place like this,
you've gotta think

in order to keep
from thinking.

There are eight planets,

Earth, Venus,

Mars, Jupiter,

Mercury--
What's that?

There's something
chewing on my forehead.

It's a rat!

It's one of those great
big fat trench rats.

Help me, somebody.
k*ll it!

No, couldn't be a rat.

They wouldn't let
rats run around

chewing up the customers
in a place like this.

It's a dream.

No, it isn't.

It is a rat.

It's crawling.
It's crawling.

No. No, no, no, no.

Don't--
Don't let it get me.

No. No, no. No, no, no.

He's close.

He's on my chest.

Don't even scare him.

Hold still and he will--

Where'd it go?

Did somebody k*ll it?

Or did it just go away?

What if it comes back?

It was a dream.

It had to be.

But how can you tell

what's a dream
and what's real

when you can't even
tell when you're awake

and when you're asleep?

Or maybe the rat's real

and the nurse here
is a dream.

Oh, Jesus Christ,
how can I ever be able to tell the difference?

The thing to do is yell.

Sometimes, even now,
I have this old dream

that somebody
wants to k*ll me.

And my mother and father
are running away

with me to Egypt.

I hear the sound of
soldiers riding at night

and the screams.

And I yell.

And the yell wakes me up.

And then I know
that it's a dream.

So what you have
to do is yell.

But, you see,
I can't yell.

I can't even whisper.

Well, whispering
wouldn't help anyhow.

Another way is just
to tell yourself

"Wait a minute, here.
This is a nightmare.

"And I have to wake up
in order to stop it."

Then just force
your eyes open,

and the dream
will be gone.

Oh, I can't open my eyes.
I haven't got any.

Well, that complicates things.

Maybe the thing to do

is police your mind
before you go to sleep.

Say to yourself,

"I'm going to sleep now.

"And I'm not going
to have any nightmares."

Could be done, you know?
With practice.

You feel yourself
getting drowsy--

I never feel drowsy.

I haven't got anything
to feel drowsy with.

Nothing?

Maybe we should

take a different
line of attack,

altogether.

Let us begin
by assuming

that everything
is a dream,

which by and large,
it is.

When we're awake,
we have one kind of dream.

When we're asleep,
we have another.

The difference is

that we control
our daydreams.

And the dream
that comes at night

controls us.

Now think about that.

When you dream that
the rat is there,

do you control the dream?

Or does the dream
control you?

It controls me.

Yes, exactly.

If the rat
were really there,

you'd knock it off,
wouldn't you?

Of course.

So the fact that
you don't knock it off

proves that
it really is a dream.

Yes, yes.

I--

That doesn't work.

Even if the rat was real,
I couldn't knock it off

because I haven't
got any arms.

No arms.

I haven't got anything.

I'm just like a piece of meat

that keeps on living.

Since your real life--

is a greater nightmare
than your dreams,

it would be cruel

to pretend that anyone
could help you.

What you need is a miracle.

No, not a miracle.

Just tell me
that the rat is real.

And the way I am now
is a dream.

Perhaps it would be
better for you

to go away now.

You're a very
unlucky young man,

and sometimes
it rubs off.

I'll go, but first
tell me just one thing.

Are you and I
really here together?

Or is this
a dream, too?

It's a dream.
How do you know?

Because I'm a dream.
I don't believe you.

Nobody does.

That's why I'm as unreal

as every other dream
that didn't come true.

I don't know whether
I'm alive and dreaming

or dead and remembering.

Am I getting old?

Is my hair turning gray?

Will anybody ever
come to visit me?

I hope not.

I really wouldn't
want anybody

to see me like this.

I do get homesick, though.

Oh, but they wouldn't
have shipped me that long way home.

Not with all these
tubes and things in me.

No, I'm probably in
some frog hospital,

or maybe limey.

At least my teeth
don't ache.

Wait a minute.
What's this?

There are two
vibrations,

and one of them
is heavy.

It's a man.

Why are the shutters
closed?

They always have been.

At least, as long
as I've been here.

It's on the order sheet.

Well, it's crazy.

Well,
what are you doing?

Hello? Have I
got visitors?

What happened then?

As long as I'm
head nurse of this ward,

the shutters are open
and they will stay open.

Let him have
a little sunshine.

They said it was
to keep people

from peeking
in at him.

It would take a man
7 feet tall

to peek through that window.

Oh, and another thing.

I want sheets
on this bed.

He's walking.
No more blankets.

He can't really
tell the difference, you know.

Now he's stopped.
I can.

Well.

How did the triage officer
ever overlook this one?

He's looking at me.

Poor baby.

No, it's a woman.

Those hands, a fat woman.

That's why I could feel
her footsteps so plain.

Poor-- Poor baby.

Come on.

That was funny.

What were they doing?
What has happened?

What's different?

Think, Joe.

Think. Use your head.

Feel.
Feel with your scalp

and the skin
on your forehead.

Something has changed.

It was cooler before
she came in than it is now.

What I feel is--
is warmth.

But where does it come from?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes.
Of course.

Oh, my God. I see it now.

It-- It's the sun.

The sun, the sun, the sun.

I found the sun.

Thank you, God.

Thank you. Thank you.

If I never have
anything else,

I'll always have God

and the morning sunlight.

It's night.

If a man can
tell the difference

between day and night,

he's beginning to tell time.

It's warm again.
It's morning,

and she's changing
my sheets.

Now it's night.

Morning again.
She's bathing me.

One morning she changes me,

the next morning,
she bathes me.

Night, night.

Day. Night.

How will I keep track?

I know.
Put a big blackboard up in your mind.

And right here
in the middle,

put a mark for each day.

Four, six, seven days.

Now, put a mark up
in this corner for the weeks.

Erase the days.
Start over again.

Three, four weeks.
That's right!

Erase the weeks
and mark down

a month over here.

5, 9, 11, 12 months.

Now that isn't a year,
not yet.

Four twelves is only 48.

Okay, check off
four more weeks,

very carefully.

And then put Roman
numeral number 1

right down here. One year!

I'm ringing bells!

Hey, I'm blowing horns

and sh**ting off
firecrackers.

Everybody's singing

"Should old acquaintance
be forgot."

And I'm saying--

I'm saying,
"Happy New Year, Kareen."

And I'm kissing her.

But it isn't
New Year's Day out there.

Sure, I've counted a year,

but a year from when?

I don't even know
how old I am.

All I know is
I'm 20 years old,

plus X years since
I got blown up,

plus the year I just counted.

But when did
those X years begin?

Think, Joe. Think back.

We were next to
an English regiment.

And we went out
on night patrol and scattered.

And then I hooked up

with that little
limey corporal

and his outfit, and--

Yes, I remember now.

I was writing a letter
to you, Kareen.

Corporal Timlon?

Yes, sir?

What is that damnable odor?

Out there, sir.

This fat Hun came
stumbling through the fog.

Some bloke lost his head
and popped him off.

The stink ain't half so bad

when they're close
to the ground, sir,

but he's got himself
hung up on the wire.

Bad for morale.
Extremely bad.

He's a Bavarian, sir.
They always smell worse.

Yes, they do,
don't they?

Not so bad as Hindu is,
though. Or Welshmen.

While it's nice and quiet,
sir, we keep on trying

to sh**t him down,
but he hangs on pretty good.

Well, take a detail
out tonight, Corporal.

And bury him.

Well, but it's kind of
busy out there, sir. Even at night.

And don't forget,
Corporal.

Death has a dignity
all its own.

And you will say
a few words of prayer over the remains.

Yes.

Oh, Jesus!

Just for that,
I'll take volunteers.

You. You. You.

You two.
You in the back there.

And to almighty God,

we commend the soul of
our brother departed,

and we commit his body
to the ground.

Earth to earth,
ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

Who's got the dust?

It's kinda wet, but--

I have--

Well, throw the bloody
stuff in. Go on.

Ashes to ashes.
Dust to dust.

God have mercy on his soul!

The bloody b*stards
have shot me in the ass!

Take cover, men.

If it's prayers he wants,
he can make up his own.

Oh, Jesus.

I shouldn't have
been there at all.

Or that poor
Bavarian, either.

For all I know,

we might have been friends.

Instead of him dead,

out there in the mud.

And me, lying here like...

like some freak
in a carnival show.

Remember that time
in Los Angeles,

when we all went
to the circus,

and took Kareen
with us, too?

And when we got home, the old man began

imitating those
sideshow barkers?

And the rest of us
joined in, too?

He was a funny man!

Just think what he
could have done with me,

the way I am now.

I eat...through a tube!

He breathes through a tube.

And whatever goes in a tube

has to come out
through a tube.

He is the armless,
legless wonder

of the 20th century!

And yet, by God,

he's just as alive
as you and me!

He was a good boy.

He was always forgetting things!

And it's this
fellow right here!

But he don't worry
about no shoes.

'Cause he don't
need no shoes!

He'd forget his overshoes.

No shoes! No shirt!

No socks!

No gloves! No hat!

He would forget his cap.

No necktie!
No collar buttons!

No vest! No coat!
No nothing!

And now...

he's forgotten...
just everything.

All you gotta do
is drop a love offering

of 15 cents or more
in this little lady's thunder mug.

And I'll you
what I'm gonna do!

I'm gonna lift the lid
of this box here,

and I'm gonna let you
look at the face

of the only man in the world

who don't give a damn
about anything.

And remember!

It only cost ya 15 cents.

And if this guy
looks back at you,

by golly, I'll give ya
a five dollar bill.

All right! Bring on
the music, Rollo Boy!

Okay! Step right up!

Step right up, folks!

Step right up. Hurry,
hurry, hurry. hurry.

Get a close look
at the man who can't--

Thank you.
Or maybe he can!

Thank you.

Thank you.

See that little lady?
Make her pot ring out

like the bells of St. Mary!

Glory, glory, glory!
Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you!

Thank you.

Thank you.

Thank you.

What's this?

A different nurse?

Why does she walk
without vibrations?

Is she tip-toeing?

Or-- Or is she just--

little?

Something fell on me.

Something wet.
What was it?

She must be new.

She is new. Her hands
are soft, like Kareen's.

She's a girl,
and I don't make her sick.

She isn't afraid of me.

Hello, new nurse.

Hello, new beautiful
young nurse.

Hello out there.

Kareen.

Oh, Kareen...

where are you?

We only made love
to each other one time

in our--
in our whole lives.

Joe-oe...

Joe-oe...

Come out to the garden
in the pale moonlight!

Is that you, Kareen?

Hello, Joe.

I had to get married.

So now I'm somebody
else's Kareen.

Then where's mine?

In the pale moonlight,

where she said she'd be.

Kareen?

Why did you bring me
to a place like this?

I didn't.

I heard you calling.

I called,
and I called.

And you never came.

I was held up.

How late am I?

How long have I been away?

I don't know.

It may have been
forever, though.

I can't remember.

Well, try, Kareen.

Please try.

You see, I don't know
how long I've been here.

I don't know
what year I'm in.

And I'm trying
to get back into--

into time.

I don't pay much attention
to time any more.

Oh, you must.

All I think about is time.

Time is what
makes people old.

The way I am, Kareen,

the way it is with me,
you'll never grow old.

Because I keep you
right here in my mind.

And in my heart.

Just the way you were
when I saw you last.

So you see, with me,
you can't get old.

Your hair will always
stay brown.

Your skin will always
be fresh like rain.

I won't let one little
wrinkle mark your face.

I'll keep you beside me,
young and beautiful forever.

Because of all the people
in the world,

only with me will you
be safe from time.

Like a fresh, fresh flower.

Like a rose--
I'm not! I'm not!

Nobody loves me anymore!

Oh, I do, Kareen.

Stop that.
What happened to you?

Don't even know
how to treat her.

Then you got her pregnant,
went away,

and stopped writing to her.

I didn't know! I couldn't write!

Bye, Joe.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Joe!

Kareen!
Goodbye, Joe...

[Kareen
Don't let them take you, Joe...

Run away!

Goodbye, Joe...

Can't you tell me
how long it's been?

No...

Can't you tell me
where I am?

No...

Can't you even tell me
what country I'm in?

No country...

Well...

I can feel them wheeling
my old bed out.

And I am in a new one.

With a pillow.

What next?

She's moving me.

Yes.

Ah, into the sunlight.

Now she's in back of me.

That tube.

I never did
understand that one.

Now my table.

What else?

Good.

Good.

I wonder if she's
an American.

I hope so.

I've only seen
one American girl

since I left home.

I'm as American as apple pie.

I was born
in San Francisco.

Didn't I tell you?

I was there when
the earthquake hit

in 1906.

Believe me,
that was a shake.

I was up on the fourth floor

of a hotel on Market Street,

entertaining
a gentleman friend.

And when I first
heard that thing hit,

I said to myself,
I said, "Lucky," I said.

"That's an earthquake.

"And you ain't
gonna be caught dead

with no fat son of a b*tch
on top of ya like this."

So you know what I did?

Uh-uh.

I pushed him off

and ran stark naked
down the street.

And you shoulda seen
the guys stare.

I'll bet.

Yeah.

You aren't wanting
to do anything now,

I guess, huh?

Ah, too tired.

That's what that French
cognac will do to ya.

It'll be $2.00, just the same.

Okay.

What are you
knitting there?

Sweater for my kid.

He's only 5 years old.

And the sweetest little
bastard you ever saw.

Huh. Where is he?

Oh, I keep him in
a school in Long Island.

That's in New York.

A private school.

They got lots of
polo players there.

And that's what I want him
to be when he grows up.

Once you're a polo player,

you meet all
the best people.

Did you know that?

You asleep?
No.

Must have... cost you
a lot of money.

A school like that.

Oh, sure it does!

But I don't do
too bad here.

I make about
a hundred bucks a week.

Of course...

you got to dress up
to your position,

and that takes money.

Kareen?

Kareen...

Oh, Kareen.

Hello, Bill.

Hi, Mr. Bonham.

Bill hasn't got a pole,

and he's only here
for the afternoon.

And I thought maybe
he could borrow yours.

We could borrow yours.

Oh.

Uh...sure.

Hey, but, uh--

give Bill your pole,
and you take mine.

Oh, sure.

We'll be back
before dark.

Thank you, Mr. Bonham.
Yeah.

Hmm.

Father.

Yes?

I lost your pole
today, Father.

Got a quick strike,
and before we knew,

your pole
was in the water.

And, um-- we hunted
around for it,

fished with the oars,
but--

but we couldn't find it,
so it's gone.

Well...

Shouldn't let
a fishing pole...

spoil our last trip
together, should we?

No.

I'll go on ahead. Catch us a ride into town.

I won't be long.

Hello?

Is it you?

The one I love?

Yes.

What's this?

What are you doing?

One up. One down.

One up. One down again.

Oh, God, no.

It can't be!
It can't!

Are you talking to me
out there?

Are you saying
something to me?

Are you drawing a letter
on my skin, and then erasing it?

A word?

You are. You are.
You are! Yes, you are!

It's a letter M!

Yes. Oh, God bless you,
nurse! I got it! M!

E.

R.

R.

Y. Yes.

Yes, of course
I've got it!

Merry!

I'm trying to tell you.

Merry Christmas.

C.

H.

R.

I.

S.

T.

Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas!

Oh, Merry Christmas!
Merry Christmas!

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

Oh, God.

I've got a date
to count from!

By counting Christmases,
I can tell when it's spring!

I can tell when it's summer!

I can smell leaves
burning in autumn.

Oh, Merry Christmas,
sweet nurse.

Merry Christmas to you.

Merry Christmas,
and all my love!

Merry, Merry,
Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas!

I'm the boss.
This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.
This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

Where's my boy?
I'm the boss.

Where's my little boy?
This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.
He's too young.

Can't you see--
I'm the boss.

...he's underage?
This is champagne.

Merry Christmas!
He just came up from Tucson.

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.
His name is--

Merry Christmas.
...Jesus Christ.

I'm the boss.
And today is

his birthday.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

Might I cut in?

Uh-uh.

I have influence.

Merry Christmas.
I can get you a soft berth.

I can be
of great help.

Merry Christmas.
I can help myself.

That's what you think.

But everything
has changed.

The time has come
for you to go out

and fight.

Are you going
to fight, too?

Merry Christmas.
I'm overaged. I can't.

But somebody's
got to fight them.

Merry Christmas.
We must have a just

and lasting peace!

Merry Christmas.
We've already got ours.

Damn right.

See these?
Two arms.

Merry Christmas.
You see these?

Two legs.

You see this?

One girl.

Merry Christmas.
What else does anyone want?

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.
Liberty.

And justice.

Merry Christmas.
Liberty.

And justice.

Liberty.
I love you, Kareen.

Merry Christmas.
You're so lucky, Joe. You are.

You don't understand.

I have to make
the world safe.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas.

I'm the boss.
You're not my boy.

This is champagne.

Where's my boy?

Merry Christmas.
Kareen?

Where's
my little boy?

Kareen?

I'm the boss.

This is champagne.

Merry Christmas!

Fellow workers.

Ahem!

Fellow workers?

Fellow workers!

Due to the w*r emergency,

our little holiday will end
in just three more minutes.

But the ovens are hot,

and we must keep
the home fires burning.

Let us sing.

♪ Keep the home fires
burning ♪

♪ While our hearts
are yearning ♪

♪ Though your lads ♪

♪ Are far away ♪

♪ They dream of home ♪

♪ There's a silver lining ♪

♪ Through the dark clouds
shining ♪

♪ Turn the dark clouds
inside out ♪

♪ Till the boys come ♪

♪ Home ♪

Father.

Hello, son.

Hello, Father.

Want some honey?

No, thanks.

Sit down.

Goodbye, Joe.

Who was that girl?

I really don't know.

I was fishing.
She happened by.

Wriggled
into my arms and stayed there.

So many young girls
these days

seem to be
hunting for a place in old men's arms.

Pshew.

Where did all
the young men go?

They drift away.

How is it with you,
Father?

It's all right.

You know,
it's a funny thing.

I was a very good
shoe clerk.

But I was
more than that.

I could handle
a horse.

If I had a cow,

she was
always healthy,

gave plenty of milk.

Raised our own food
on two city lots.

Even up to the honey
on our biscuits.

I could, uh, hoe
a pretty good row...

lay out
a pretty good grade

on an uphill road.
Build a house.

But I never did learn
how to make any money.

The goddamndest thing
I ever ran into.

See, the trouble
with life is

you work so much,
you don't enjoy it.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Better this way.

Except...

I do miss your mother.

How is she?

I haven't seen her lately.

Oh.

Well...

not too long
till sunrise.

Mmhh.

I have to go.

Trout'll be rising.

Willow Lake.

Now that I got
my pole back, I don't want to miss 'em.

Goodbye, Father.

Give my love
to your mother when you see her.

Sorry I had to leave
you in the lurch,

but it was
the only way, believe me.

Goodbye.

Joe.

Joe.

Here I am.

No, Joe.
Over here.

Let's play
blindman's bluff.

Joe.

Find me, Joe.

Why did you
leave me, Joe?

Run, Joe.

Why didn't you
write me?

I couldn't
write you!

I just couldn't!

Why couldn't you?

I can't tell you!

That's all!
I can't!

You don't
love me, Joe.

You don't love me.

I do love you!

I do love you!

No, you don't, Joe.
You never did.

Don't go, Kareen!

Where are you?

Olly olly
oxen free!

Don't go away
from me again.

Please.

Don't.

You need help, son.

There isn't any help.

Have you asked for any?

I can't.

I can't ask for anything.

There is no way
I can talk to them.

Then why don't you
send a telegram?

A telegram?

Don't you remember
when you were little?

How you and Bill Harper
used to

string a wire
between the two houses

so you could telegraph
to each other?

Yes.

Still remember
the Morse code?

Yes.

What good is that?

How can I type out
a message to them?

You've got to learn to think.

Use your head.

Yes.

Yes. My head.

My head. My head, my head!

Yes.

Yes. My head.

My head.

Where is she going?

Captain?
Yes?

Could you come here
a minute, please?

Yes, of course. Would you
take care of that, nurse? Thank you.

She's brought somebody in!

I can't understand
what he's doing.

May I see
the orders, please?

Yes.

Thank you.

Probably an early entry.

"If bodily action
becomes violent

or persistently repetitive"--

These movements
are persistently repetitive.

"They must be treated
as reflexive muscular spasms."

Which is to say by sedation.

Fair enough.
I'll prepare an injection.

Why is she trying to stop me?

I don't believe that
the movement is reflexive.

Oh, you don't?

Well, General Tillery
will pass through on the 23rd

with his annual
staff inspection.

If you don't trust me,
nurse,

perhaps you'd better
take it up with him.

I will.

Well, that's excellent,
nurse.

General Tillery is
the chief operating surgeon

who wrote those orders.

No. No.

Don't give me dope.

Don't put me under again.
Would you unlock the door, please?

I'm trying to talk to you.

Oh, God, please
make them hear me.

All I'm asking is for you
to take one little idea

that's in my mind
and put it into their minds.

Maybe only 2 or 3
feet away from me.

It's-- It's such
a little thing to ask,

but they won't listen.

They won't hear me.

All they do is give me dope,

and I go down

and down

and...

Oh, there you are, brothers.

What were you hunting
when they caught you?

Look, Father!
I found your fishing pole!

Use your head, son.

I am, Father. I am.

Hear me.

Please try to understand
what I'm doing and hear me!

She did hear me!

She's going
to get somebody!

She didn't even
close the door!

I've broken through.

I'm back
with people again.

Hello,
all you people out there.

It's me, and we're going
to talk to each other.

They're here. A lot of them.

It's Morse code.

For what?

SOS. Help.

Do you mean to say
that this man

is actually speaking to us?

What are they doing?

Yes, sir.

Decerebrated, General?

Completely decerebrated?

What are they waiting for?

What's happening?

Are they leaving?

No.

Just one of them.

Or maybe two.

No. Just one.

Ask what he wants.

How can I ask a man like this
a question like that?

By asking it.
How else can we help him?

Why don't they do something?

They are.
What...

do...you...

want?

What do I want?

What do I want?

What I want...

I want out!

I want to feel fresh air
against my skin.

I want to feel people
around me.

No.

It would cost too much money

taking care of me
on the outside.

They never do that.

But-- But maybe
there's a way

I can take care of myself.

Yes! There is a way!

All you have to do
is put me on display

and people
will pay to see me.

Lots of people.
Put me in a fancy coffin

with windows in it,
and take me out where people

are spending money
and having fun.

Take me to the beaches
and the county fairs

and the 4th of July
celebrations

and all the church bazaars.

They've seen
the pin-headed girl from Timbuktu

or the dog-faced man

who crawls on his belly
like a reptile.

But they're not real freaks.
They were born that way.

They were made
that way by God.

But this thing here
in his fancy coffin

was made by people--

by you and me
and the lady next door--

and that takes
a lot of planning

and costs a lot of money.

Advertise me as the only
piece of meat in the world

that can talk through
the back of its head.

And if that
doesn't pull them in, then-- then-- then--

then bill me as the last man
on earth who joined the Army.

Because the army makes men.

So rally around
the flag, boys--

your flag, their flag,
anybody's flag--

because the flag
needs soldiers,

and the army makes men.

I...want...out...

so...people...

can...see...

what...I am.

Put me...in...

a...

c-carnival...show

where they...can

look...at me.

Let...me out.

Well, what could we
have expected?

Tell him, uh...

Tell him we'll do
everything we can,

but, uh, his condition
won't permit him to be moved.

For the present, that is.

Be sure to say
"for the present."

If...

you...

won't...let...

people see me,

then...

k*ll me.

He's upset.
Understandably so.

Ask him what his name is.

These shutters are to be closed
at all times.

What's he saying?

He says, "k*ll me."

Over and over again.
"k*ll me."

Tell him we'll do everything we can to make him comfortable.

For now, he needs rest.

Tell him we'll give him
a sedative and come back later.

And try to get his name.

You're not to mention
what has happened here to anyone.

I'll hold you collectively
responsible for any breach.

If new orders are received
in view of the new situation which has developed,

you'll be notified.

Well?

He won't wait
for an answer.

All he says is

"k*ll me, k*ll me, k*ll me."

Don't you have some message
for him, Padre?

You could at least tell him

to put his faith in God,
couldn't you?

I'll pray for him
for the rest of my days,

but I will not risk
testing his faith

against your stupidity.

Well, you're a hell
of a priest, aren't you?

He's the product
of your profession,

not mine.

Clear the room.

Give him a light sedative,
nurse.

They're going away. Why?

Why don't they get it
over with and k*ll me?

But you're still here.

Can't you see
what I'm tapping to you?

I'm asking you to k*ll me.

Please do.

O my God,

I'm heartily sorry

for having offended thee.

And I detest all my sins,

not because of Thy judgment,
O Lord,

but because
thou art all good

and deserving
of all my love.

I firmly resolve,

with the help of thy grace,

to sin no more, to avoid
all the occasions of sin.

Amen.

Oh, nurse--

beautiful,
beautiful nurse--

thank you,

thank you, thank you.

Dear God,
thank her for me.

Be sweet to her, God.

Make her happy.
Make her beautiful.

Make everything she wants
come true!

Make everyone love her!

No!

No.

Leave the room.

Oh, somebody stopped her.

Why?

I said,
"Leave the room."

Give me the key.

What's happening?

The key?

Go on.

She's going.

I can feel her
moving toward the door.

He's sending her away.

Why?

First they
close the shutters,

and now they're
sending her away.

Why did they
close the shutters?

Why is he
sending her away?

Why won't they
let me talk?

Because I'm a secret
or something?

Oh, I don't know.

She's gone.

Good-bye, nurse.

You're gone,

and I'm a secret.

Oh, no. Not that again.

I-- I thought
they'd be glad

that I found a way to--

to talk to them.

But they're not.

The only thing on this earth
I'm any good for

they won't let me do.

All they want is to push me

back into the darkness
down here

so they won't ever
see me again.

He's gone, too.

Well, now I know.

They'll never let me out.

They'll keep me a secret here
until someday,

when I'm an old, old man,

I'll sneak away
from them and die.

It isn't easy, though.

Inside me,
I'm screaming and yelling

and howling
like a trapped animal...

and nobody
pays any attention.

If I had arms,
I could k*ll myself.

If I had legs,
I could run away.

If I had a voice,

I could talk and be some
kind of company for myself.

I could yell for help.

But nobody'd help me.

Not even God,
because there isn't any God.

Couldn't be
in a place like this.

And, uh...

And yet,

I've just got
to do something

because I--

I don't see how I can

go on like this

much longer.

S.O.S.

Help Me.

S.O.S.

Help Me.

S.O.S.

Help Me.

S.O.S.

Help Me.

S.O.S.

Help Me.

S.O.S.

Help Me.