[Addressing whole platoon.] You people are at the position of attention! [To Perconte] Private Perconte, have you been blousing your trousers over your boots like a paratrooper?
No, sir.
Then explain the creases at the bottom.
No excuse, sir.
Volunteering for the Parachute Infantry is one thing, Perconte, but you've got a long way to prove that you belong here. Your weekend pass is revoked. [moves on] Name?
Luz, George.
[examining Luz's M1 rifle] Dirt in the rear sight aperture. Pass revoked. [walks over to another soldier] When did you sew on these Chevrons, Sergeant Lipton?
Yesterday, sir.
[displays a loose thread pulled from the stripe] Long enough to notice this – revoked.
Sir. [Sobel walks over to another soldier.]
Name.
Malarkey, Donald G!
Malarkey is slang for "bullshit," isn't it? [takes his rifle]
Yes, sir!
Rust on the butt-plate hinge spring, Private Bullshit – revoked. [tosses his rifle at Malarkey and moves on] Name.
Liebgott, Joseph, D, sir.
Rusty bayonet, Liebgott. You want to kill Germans?
Yes, sir.
[knocks his helmet with the bayonet] Not with this. [to the whole platoon] I will not take this rusty piece of shit to war, and I will not take you to war in your condition. [throws bayonet to the ground] Now thanks to these men and their infractions, every man in the company who had a weekend pass has lost it. Change into your PT gear. We're running Currahee.