- Soldier: How many men, your soldiers?
- Sgt. Ernest Wartell: Including the European theater, I'd say about six million.
- Pvt. James Grenier: [in voiceover narration] They were the quietest bunch of guys I'd ever seen. I couldn't tell if they'd been trained that way, or if they just had nothing to say.
- Pvt. James Grenier: [camera focuses on each man in turn as he is briefly summarized in voiceover narration] Captain Alonzo Davis, officer in charge. Known to his men as "Smokey." A mustang, commissioned from the ranks. Consistently demonstrated excellence, leadership under fire. Twice decorated: Guadalcanal, Tarawa. Eleven years in the Corps. First Sergeant Steve Corey, second in command. I knew him only by reputation. The finest fighting man in our theater. Nine campaigns in the last 17 months. Corporal Alvin Ross, proven excellence with M-1 at any distance. Specialty: accuracy at long range, sniping. PFC Henry Reynolds, demolitions expert. Combat experience: one year, 10 months. Age: 19 years, one month. Platoon Sergeant William Maccone, garrote. A garrote is a fine wire with a handle on each end. Usage confined exclusively to the human throat. Gunnery Sergeant Ernest Wartell, career Marine. Specialty: automatic weapons. Proven excellence, Thompson sub-machine gun. Corporal Stanley Parrish, knife expert. Close in combat. "Stan the man." 130 pounds - after dinner. PFC George George. Specialty: night vision. The ability to see in the absence of light. By medical statistics, those eyes will happen once every 200,000 births. Private First Class, James Grenier. Aircrewman radio specialist. Combat experience: none. Length of service, US Marine Corps: 6 months. Reason for selection to highly specialized reconnaissance mission: dire abdominal attack suffered by selected radio man accompanied by high fever. No time for proper replacement. Location at time of selection: radio panel.
- Sgt. Steve Corey: [noting that Private Grenier has walked away and left the portable radio set unattended] Come back here, Marine. I'm going to tell you this just once. This radio is part of you. You don't put it down, ever. You don't eat, you don't sleep, you don't breathe without it. You read me, Private? I don't want to see it again without you wrapped around it.
- Pvt. James Grenier: Sergeant Corey, if this radio is more important to this mission than you *or* me, don't you think you should tell me what the hell I'm supposed to accomplish with it?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: I'll tell you when the time comes.
- Pvt. James Grenier: But don't you think the time is come, I mean, how many more men are we supposed to lose?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: We're not supposed to lose *any* men, Private.
- Sgt. Steve Corey: [to Private Grenier] Stay away from things that you've never done - like thinking.
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Please get Miyazaki, bring him here.
- Midori: Yes, sir.
- Miyazaki: [entering the room, looks at Sgt. Corey] God... Who are you?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: [expecting Miyazaki to be a man, not a Geisha girl] Now, look ladies, I ain't got a lot of time. I'm looking for a guy named Miyazaki and I'm not above slitting both your lovely throats to find him. Now, where is he?
- Miyazaki: I am Miyazaki.
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Don't fool with me lady.
- Miyazaki: Don't you ever complain, Sergeant?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Sure.
- Miyazaki: I haven't heard you say a word yet.
- Sgt. Steve Corey: I'm in charge. I can't.
- Miyazaki: What did you do before the war?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Complained.
- Miyazaki: Of what?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Everything... The Depression, Hitler, downtown Cincinnati, my kid brothers. You want to swap life stories?
- Miyazaki: How many kid brothers?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Two. Billy was killed in North Africa, Don just made the Marine Corps.
- Miyazaki: When did you make the Marine Corps?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: December 8, 1941, at 9 A.M.
- Miyazaki: What were you doing when the war started?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Making love... to a 40-year old divorcee who made a career out of her figure.
- Miyazaki: I meant, *where* were you?
- Sgt. Steve Corey: Fountain Plaza hotel. Beach boy, towel dispenser, head gigolo all rolled into one. Yeah, that was a great life. Too bad there had to be a war.
- Miyazaki: Yes, isn't it? My folks would still be in their home in Long Beach... instead of the internment camp out by the Santa Anita racetrack. I suppose it's for our own protection. Maybe they're afraid we'll poison your gardens.