07-16-2022, 09:31 PM
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
cheek 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. Among them, DeLancey.
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
cheek 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. Among them, DeLancey.
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