looks over the gunwale at the hell
somehow survives. jumps into the breakers.
move, goddamn it! go! go! go!
ignores the explosions and bullets. uses hand signals and curt orders.
there! there! hooks there! fire squad, those rocks!
back-straps his thompson sub-machine gun. starts climbing with the first group.
joins half-a-dozen pinned down men. others bottleneck behind them. miller scans the route and the defenders.
that's the route.
go!
it's the only way.
turns to the next half-dozen men.
you're next!
jackson, pick off a few of them, will you?
go!
turns, looking for the next six. his eyes fall on sarge and reiben who is a cynical, sharp, new yorker. reiben smiles.
sure, meet me at the top, we'll start the paperwork.
go!
crosses the gap. his men follow.
okay, wade, your turn.
worked, didn't it?
don't need to, the krauts go that covered.
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
jesus christ! what the hell are we swimming in?
look at the bright side, the krauts sure as hell don't want to advance and hold this cesspool.
get fire control, we need some artillery.
don't worry, we're the only rangers this side of the continent, we've got to be first into caen.
reiben, how the hell do you know so much about lingerie?
there's a war on, good chance they're not still making lingerie in caen.
maybe the war's over.
stay at it until you get fire control. keep 'em down, wait for the navy.
runs over the broken ground and makes it to the sandbagged h.q. he stumbles down the make-shift stairs.
miller, company b, second rangers.
my what?
find a chaplain.
sector four is secured, we put out the last three german one-fifty-fives, found them about two miles in from ponte du hoc.
a company, wehrmacht, no artillery, we took twenty-three prisoners, turned them over to intelligence.
fourty-four, twenty one dead.
they didn't want to give up those one-fifty-fives, sir.
yes, sir.
pinned down, a mile east of here, waiting for some help from the navy guns.
sir?
a private, sir?
but, sir. i. i.
respectfully, sir, sending men all the way up to ramelle to save one private doesn't make a fucking, goddamned bit of sense. sir.
yes, sir, more or less.
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.
yes and no, sir, what about morgan? fine officer, regular church goer, writes poetry, he might like a mission like this. and he's taller than me.
yes, sir.
thank you, sir.
crouch-runs and dives into a crater with sarge.
put on your traveling shoes, sarge, we're heading out.
i wish. you and i are taking a squad up to ramelle on a public relations mission.
some private up there lost three brothers, got a ticket home.
simpson.
i want reiben on b.a.r; jackson with his sniper rifle; beasley, demolition.
okay, wade. translators?
what about talbot?
strides through the chaos, avoiding the passing vehicles. he sees his men and walks toward them. reiben hurries up to miller, pleading.
sorry, i need a b.a.r. man, you're the best.
trust me, you're the best.
i've got a line on one.
sergeant, i need a truck.
white-walls?
a half-track, anything.
how about that jeep?
a paratrooper named ryan. he's going home, if he's alive.
no, three brothers of his were killed in action. command wants him out of there.
we've got to make one stop.
wait here.
i understand you speak french and german.
do you have an accent?
good, you've been re-assigned to me, we're going to ramelle.
that's my understanding.
do you have a problem with that, corporal?
i need a translator, all mine have been killed.
it'll come back to you. get your gear.
a small one.
go, go.
sure, reiben.
left.
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.
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.
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.
yep, hell of a mission.
i don't want anybody to shoot him, that's an order. he speaks french and his german has a touch of the bavarian.
yeah, how so?
there's to be a bright side, look for it.
there's always a bright side.
well, i, for one, like cheese.
how's the road up to st. mere?
anybody getting through?
just trying to make room for ryan.
sarge?
directs sarge off the road.
they've got the road zeroed.
they've got a hell of a spotter somewhere.
s-curves, sarge.
sarge! reverse!
come on! you wanna walk?
forward! forward! now reverse!
push!
shit!
go!
is first up. sarge and the men struggle to their feet. hear more incoming. miller grabs upham by the collar and pulls him up.
here come the mortars!
stands on the edge of the woods, almost in a trance.
sarge, maps.
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.
wade, the radio.
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.
that's not what we're here for.
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.
tell that to private james ryan. we've got our orders. let's go.
you didn't volunteer, jackson.
upham, are you sure you've never been in combat?
he's good.
stay low.
your turn.
zig-zag, change your pace a couple times, you'll be alright.
okay, i'm going to draw fire for you. but if i do, you goddamned well better go.
looks to upham
ready?
go.
glad of it.
dashes across the street.
bring 'em over.
one at a time.
ducks out of the doorway and crouch- runs down the block. he passes a:
sees the dead and wounded, shows no reaction. runs to:
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.
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.
jackson.
very far, they're not coming this way, they're going to take caen first.
five, but we not staying, we're on our way to ramelle.
yeah, you know about that?
wonderful.
how do we get out of here?
yeah?
thanks.
let's find someplace to hole up.
it was nothing.
like i said, it was nothing. don't bunch up.
sure, what do you want to know?
ours is not to reason why.
never mind, don't worry, we'll pick up this kid, high-tail it back to division, everything'll work out fine.
reiben, there's a fairly good chance you're not going to die at all.
you have orders, too.
i'd love to hear it.
reiben, i want you to listen closely to jackson. this is the way to gripe. jackson, continue.
wade?
upham?
sarge?
reiben, what's the matter with you? i don't gripe to you. i'm a captain. there's a chain of command. griping goes one way, up, only up, never down. you gripe to me, i gripe to my superior officers. up, get it? i don't gripe to you, i don't gripe in front of you. how long you been in the army?
in that case, i would say this is an excellent mission, with an extremely valuable objective, worthy of my best efforts.
in addition, as i pointed out earlier, i have a fondness for cheese and i 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 willing to lay down my life, and the lives of my men, especially you, reiben, to help relieve her suffering. the men thoroughly enjoy the performance.
but i am a captain. if i were not a captain, i would thank you for the compliment and tell you that the ability to lie comes from being a 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.
my home town, which shall remain un-named.
any further thoughts on the subject?
i'll make a note of your suggestions but i'll leave that last one to you, especially if he's already dead.
we move out in two hours, try and get some sleep.
maybe.
since when have things been normal?
nope.
they're fine. as long as they can gripe, they'll be alright.
they guys here aren't going to be able to hold out until battalion shows up.
command isn't going to let them withdraw and the germans sure as hell aren't going to let them surrender.
if we stayed, we could make a difference.
you never know.
now you're the one kidding yourself. hell of a mission.
rise and shine, boys. let's go.
it doesn't take this.
you think the rest of us were?
don't worry, upham, god'll protect you, this shit's gonna keep him up all night, anyway.
let's go, this ain't what they pay us for.
thanks, but you may need these more than us, or ryan.
let's move out.
a couple of weeks. it started in portsmouth when they brought us down for loading.
no. it comes and goes. it stops when i look at it.
i'll be alright.
it'll be light, soon. let's pick it up.
it looks like a renoir.
i've been humming it.
it seemed appropriate.
some.
what's the pool up to?
i'll tell you what, if i'm still alive when it hits five-hundred, i'll let you know and we'll split the money.
i don't expect to live that long.
let's go, private.
did he see any sign of them?
thank him and tell him we're sorry about his loss.
where?
my guess, too.
a machine gun.
we can't leave it here.
they don't send planes to put out machine guns. two flank runners with surpressing fire. i'm going right, whoever goes left has to be fast.
wade goes left.
sarge, upham, here. jackson, reiben, ten yards, either side.
yeah? what rule of thumb is that?
how about you take your position?
how about you shut up and take your position?
don't need it, i'm a cat, i've got five lives.
what do they know? i had nine, but i feel through the ice when i was seven, my brother pulled me out. then i used one when a grenade landed in my foxhole in sicily, it was a dud. i figure one on the beaches, one on the cliffs and two getting here.
plenty.
ready?
takes the first fire. he hits the dirt. the bullets scream just over him.
makes it to the far side. scrambles up the roots. dives through the brush.
struggles through the hedgerow. stumbles onto the path. rolls to his feet, running. swings his thompson into firing position. racing toward the nest.
tearing along the path. sees a german rifleman. fires a burst. cuts him down. runs over the body without breaking stride.
tears through the trees. blasts his thompson. cuts down two more german riflemen. grabs a grenade. pulls the pin.
throws the grenade, veers and dives.
rolls to his feet. fire another burst. kills the last of the german riflemen. doesn't pause. runs onto the field.
reiben, upham, perimeter! cover!
about to pour his sulfa. sees the wound. stops. knows it's fatal.
damn it!
shoves the needle into wade's neck. thick vein. pumps the morphine straight to wade's brain. motions impatiently to sarge.
more morphine, hurry up, come on, come on.
snatches the morphine from sarge. quickly and efficiently prepares a second shot. he's done this before.
gives wade the second shot.
is silent. motionless. he gently closes wade's eyes. his hand quivers slightly as he unclips one of wades dogtags. he fumbles and drops it. sarge notices.
he lied. let's move out.
keep it down.
we've got to find someplace to hole up for a bit.
let's just find someplace.
rest. one hour. jackson, reiben, perimeter. keep your eyes open. i'm going to re-con.
what was the name of that kid at anzio, the one who got his face burned off?
yeah, vecchio, i couldn't remember his name, he was a good kid, remember how he used to walk on his hands and sing that song about the man on flying trapeze?
you know why i'm such a good officer? because of my mother. have i ever told you about her?
she's the best poker player you ever saw. my father used to go to these saturday night games and lose his shirt. finally, my mother gave him an ultimatum, either she gets a regular seat at the table or she locks him in every saturday night. he squawked and so did his buddies but after a while they gave in and from the first night she sat down, she never lost. she could read those cocky bastards like they were playing open hands. and he bluffs? he had sixteen levels of bullshit. her eyes, the tone of her voice, her bets, her jokes, the way she sipped her coffee, she was a master. she won more money on shit hands than anyone in the history of the game. every saturday night, my father would lose two, three hundred bucks and she'd win it all back and then some. and i'd stand there, glued to her shoulder, from the time i was five years old, watching every hand, every move, studying how she did it. that's why i'm such a good officer, i can look at a man's face and tell you exactly what he's holding, and if it's a shit hand, i know just what cards to deal him.
no problem. a pair of deuces? less? so what? i bluff. it used to tear me apart when i'd get one of my men killed, but what was i supposed to do? break down in front of the ones who were standing there waiting for me to tell them what to do? of course not, so i bluffed, and after a while, i started to fall for my own bluff. it was great, it made everything so much easier. sarge is that why your hand's been shaking?
it could be worse. you know the first thing they teach you at o.c.s.? lie to your men.
not in so many words, but they tell you you can have all the firepower in the world and if your men don't have good morale, it's not worth a damn. so if you're scared or empty or half-a-step from a section eight, do you tell your men? of course not. you bluff, you lie.
simple, numbers. every time you kill one of your men, you tell yourself you just saved the lives of two, three, ten, a hundred others. we lost, what, thirty-one on the cliffs? i'll bet we saved ten times that number by putting out those guns. that's over three hundred men. maybe five hundred. a thousand. then thousand. any number you want. see? it's simple. it lets you always choose mission over men.
that's the rub. i liked wade. who's ryan? if they're both standing in front of me and i have to shoot one or the other, how do i choose? look at my hand, there it goes again.
i think you're right, keith.
no, but if i get any worse, you'll have to relieve me.
you know wade was the eleventh of the twelve, you're the last one still alive.
don't let yourself get killed, if you do, they might make me give back the medal and then i won't be able to lip off to colonels anymore.
thanks for drawing that machine gun off me.
but, that's my personal brand of stupidity, i feel kind of proprietary about it, if you do it again, you're busted.
up. we're moving out.
well now i'm saying we're moving out. get off your ass.
what the hell's the matter with you, jackson?
who's wade?
i said, who the hell is wade?
you'll grieve the way i tell you to goddamned grieve. there is no wade, there was one, but he died a long time ago, he's been dead for so long you can hardly remember his name, you understand?
good, now get your goddamned gear.
why's that?
except for the last part, that one's not bad.
i don't like that one.
but we accomplish the mission.
has anyone ever told you, you're officer material?
that's a mystery to me.
i don't think so.
is just about to open up on them.
same place we are.
scans the germans with his binoculars.
puts away the binoculars and jerks his head for his men to follow, low, along the wall. the men are happy to do so, looking back nervously at the german tanks.
on the bridge! we're coming in.
you're only allowed to shoot at germans, that's one of the rules.
i'll keep it in mind. okay, sarge, one at a time.
things are tough all over. we're looking for a private james ryan.
is he here?
jackson, get a hold of command.
how many men do you have?
keep trying.
yes.
we've been sent to get you out of here. you're going home.
sergeant, we're moving out and i'm taking you and your men with me.
i'm giving you new orders, sergeant.
i'm not going to leave you and your men here to get killed. get them together, we're moving out.
come on, private, you're going home.
private. i'm sorry about your brothers but staying here and getting yourself killed isn't going to help.
this bridge cannot be held. the germans have two companies less than three miles from here. they have tanks.
private, if you want to commit suicide, that's your choice, but you're going to have to wait until after i get you back to the beach. and you're not going to take these men with you.
the hell you aren't, you're comin' with me if i have to drag you every inch of the way. you hear me, private?
listen you little son-of-a-bitch you're coming with me or i'll. i'll.
you don't count.
you're goddamned right, i give the order. vote! jesus christ! listen to me, you little pissant pieces of shit, i am the ranking officer here and what i say goes, is that clear?
in that case.  i vote we stay.
reiben, the b.a.r., there. jackson, get up on the bridgekeepers hut with your sniper rifle. sarge, you and upham move that machine gun so it can cover the left flank, it's worthless where it is. forrest, i want a full inventory of all your weapons, ammo and ordnance. go.
yeah, yeah. i want you right next to me, no matter where i go, you understand?
alright, come with me.
that's it?
sarge, see what you can do to make those buildings inhospitable.
those guns are close.
let's hope they don't change their mind.
well, if we had ten times the men and a lot more ammo, we might stand a chance, but not against those tanks.
we're going to hope like hell the tanks were on their way somewhere else.
let's hope, because we're sure as hell not going to do any damage to them with what we have here.
those are tigers, they have six-inch armor, they don't even notice grenades.
sure, you got one?
upham, go find jackson, he and i are going hunting.
out of the mouth of babes.
upham, you've got to learn the difference between whining and griping. you can't just rely on natural ability, you've got to study and practice.
there you go again, that's whining, that's not okay.
that's better, but you've still got a long way to go. talk to reiben, he's a natural and works at it, he'll give you some pointers.
see to it.
no, private, i want you to stay here, keep your head down, don't do anything brave or stupid.
reiben, i don't know what i'd do without you. sarge, keep ryan close to you and alive.
you ready?
eyes the emplacement. looks for a weakness. there is none. he motions to forrest and jackson to wait. the three of them settle into the darkness.
ryan! get back there!
don't do that again.
crouch-runs through the shadows and stops at the bridgekeepers hut.
reiben.
you set? sarge nods.
at the bridgehead, waiting.
cocks his thompson. settles down behind some sandbags.
here they come!
sees reiben and upham being cut off. grabs the b.a.r., stands and fires.
fires a burst into a german's belly. hits another with the stock of his thompson.
struggling with a pair of germans.
back! let's go!
grabs sarge and pulls him over the barricade. sees that he's dead.
stunned, lays sarge down, kneeling next to him.
get back to your positions!
go!
doesn't move. he just stares at sarge's body.
sarge? who's sarge?
english teacher, addley, pennsylvania.
i teach english at addley high school in addley, pennsylvania.
i changed my mind.
i coach the baseball team, too.
you know that cruise ship wade's grandfather was on?
i wonder if his cabin is still available?
i'm in my backyard, lying in my hammock, with my arm around my wife, listening for the sound of breaking glass.
you see, i've got the best house in all of addley. it's not the biggest house, but it's got the best location, right next to the junior high baseball field. the garage windows face left field. the guy who owned the house before me had these heavy screen s put over them. the first thing i did when i bought the place was take off those screens. two-hundred-twenty- two yards from home plate to my garage windows. it takes a hell of a junior high kid to hit a ball that far. i look at my garage windows as a motivator and a way to scout the kids coming up, the ones who are going to give us a shot at the state championship. i lay there in my hammock and every time i hear the sound of breaking glass, i know we're one step closer to winning it all.
it's worth it.
how about you, james?
hears the faint distant rumble of the tank. barely has time to react. sees:
here they come.
fires a burst. more germans drop.
manning the forward machine gun. way out front. sees that he's going to be cut off. he grabs the hot gun. the barrel burns into his flesh. he ignores the pain and runs back toward the bridge.
fires again. more germans drop.
knows what that means. he hears the
tighten it up! here they come!
jackson!
shoves the final shell into the breech of the eighty-eight. pats ryan on the back. grabs a satchel charge.
races through the debris. trailed by bullets.
is almost there. he arms the satchel charge.
throws the satchel charge under the tank. rolls off the edge of the bridge. lands on the embankment below.
hold it! hold it!
goddamn it!
miller, company b, second rangers, that's private richard reiben and that's private james ryan, hundred- and-first airborne.
walks to the bodies. he kneels down next to sarge and looks at him for a long moment. then, with a steady hand, he takes one of sarge's two dog-tags. then he does the same to jackson and upham.
stands and walks back to reiben and ryan. he hands the dog-tags to ryan who grips them tightly and nods in thanks.
yes, private.
upham? good kid, smart, he was writing a book.
jackson was from west fork, tennessee, he was going to be a preacher, his father and uncles have a traveling ministry out of the back of a stretch hudson.
Sarge? He was the best friend I ever had. Lemme tell you about Sarge.