captain, can i put in for a transfer?
i'll be goddamned! i'm not dead!
shit, sir.
out of the frying pan, into the fucking latrine.
sir, what if they send some other company into caen ahead of us while we're pinned down here?
i care. don't you know what caen's famous for, sarge?
lingerie.
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.
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?
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.
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.
happy to, sir.
i don't think so, captain.
please, sir, you can't take me to ramelle, i gotta go to caen, sir, please, i told you, they make caen lingerie there, it's beautiful, it's the best there is, it's. oh, please, sir.
no, i'm not, kaback is, honest. or what about faulkner? or that little guy with the glasses?
but, sir.
captain, can i ask you a question?
where are you planning on putting private ryan, sir?
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?
i usually like surprises.
you want to shoot him, or should i?
jackson?
captain, i gotta tell you, the irony of this mission is fucking killing me.
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.
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.
i'm listening, sir.
well, you're a happy idiot.
hell, this is better than coney island!
general gavin is going to be very irritated at you, captain.
get lost.
we know.
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.
hell, no. i think he's the best officer in the whole goddamned army, bar none.
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.
you know what a b.a.r. weighs? nineteen and a half pounds, not counting ammo. and you think these things are comfortable? they may look good but they weigh twelve pounds each, that's thirty-six pounds, right there.
that's because, as i have pointed out on numerous occasions, you are a happy idiot.
oh, christ, now we gotta listen to that grandfather thing again.
fine, you convince yourself you got a pack full of feathers and goddamned private james ryan can carry my fucking gear.
you want unpleasant? just wait, i can do much better than this.
jesus christ, he's a natural!
hey, that guy can move.
captain, he's fast!
dang right, he take 'count of the wind, ain't ya'll ever heard a kentucky windage?
they got squirrels there, too, right?
wade's right, it's some kind of scientific, magnetic thing, i can't explain it, but i've seen it.
captain, could you please explain the math of this mission to me?
well, sir, in purely arithmetic terms, since when does six equal one? what's the sense in risking six guys to save one?
huh?
i'd much rather die in caen than ramelle, sir. it's a personal thing.
easy for you to say, sir. fucking james ryan, i'd like to wring his fucking neck.
hey, i got a mother. jackson, you got a mother?
wade, sarge, corporal insect, all of us, hell, i'll bet even the captain has a mother.
well, maybe not the captain, but the rest of us have mothers.
for you to blow up, yeah, yeah, we heard that.
and what about you, captain?
i'm sorry, sir, i apologize. but if you weren't a captain, or if i were a major, what would you say?
sir, if you were not a captain, i would compliment you, now, for being an excellent liar.
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.
just what i need.
sir, i've got an idea, let's go around.
he's fast, captain, i saw him.
on guard, glancing back. pissed off.
goddamn it. goddamn it. goddamn it.
goddamn it. goddamn it. goddamn it.
fuck private james ryan, fuck him, just fuck the goddamned son-of-a- bitch.
you shut up, this is the most fucked up mission i ever heard of. goddamned ryan, fuck the little bastard.
the hell he didn't.
i thought you said we had an hour, sir?
you know what the best possible thing that could happen is?
i've given this a lot of thought, sir. the best thing that could happen is, we find ryan and he's dead.
well, sir, consider the possibilities. a: ryan is alive. we have to take him back to the beach. knowing you, you don't let him carry my gear, even though he really should, and we all get killed, trying to keep him alive.
b: ryan is dead. he's been blown up by the german equivalent of wade, whose name i know you don't want me to mention. there's nothing to find. the biggest piece is the size of a pea. we wander around, looking for him until the germans pick us off, one after another.
neither do i, sir. c: and this is the worst one, we find ryan and he's wounded. not only does he not carry my gear, we have to carry his gear. and him.
maybe. but what if he dies on the way back? you see what i'm saying, sir? the best possible situation is, he's dead, we find his body, more or less intact, we grab one of his dog-tags and high-tail it back to the beach, or better yet, we head over to caen and catch up with division.
no, sir.
looks like tea time, maybe they're brits.
looks like they've been having a hell of a party, here, captain.
what if our guys open up, sir?
have it your way, captain.
looks like a flaming asshole to me.
i'm ryan, sir. you wanted to see me?
uh, excuse me, captain.
so, what are a few tanks, sir?
he's right, we can't shoot him. well, we could but we'd get in an enormous amount of trouble. and he's right about the bridge, it's a hell of a lot more important than he is.
see, captain? the vote's unanimous.
yes, sir, of course, sir, i was merely speaking hypothetically. if this was a voting situation, then the vote would have been unanimous. but of course, it's not a voting situation, you're the captain, and you give the orders, sir.
of course, sir.
sir, can i change my vote?
maybe caen.
leave him to me, captain, i'll have him pissing and moaning with the best of us.
aren't they the same thing, sir?
y'all come back.
hell, no!
like hell, i did.
what do you think?
i mean, ryan, what do you think of him?
i guess.
nope, he ain't wade.
yes, sir.
opens up with the machine gun.
time to go.
like hell you did, i got him.
goddamn it. goddamn it. goddamn it.
well, i'll be goddamned, i knew it.
what deal?
what deal?
that's not where i am. miller no? where are you?
i'm in a dressing room with mrs. rachel troubowitz, our super's wife. she's an easy forty-four, double e, but i've convinced her she's a thirty- eight d and i'm watching her try and squeeze herself into a side-stay, silk-ribboned, three-panel girdle with s helf-lift brassiere. she's having a devil of a time, getting into that thing.
jackson, how many times i got to tell you, you're from tennessee.
what about you, captain?
fires a burst. germans drops.
sees ryan. races over. shoots one german. stabs the other.
more ammo!
continues firing. cutting down the advancing germans.
with the machine gun. covers miller. keeping most of the german infantry down.
more tanks.  ryan lot's of them the fear on their faces turns to resignation. they know that they are dead men. they settle into their positions, and prepare to fire and die.
yeah, and he was fast, too, ran the 220 in twenty-four-five.