Because I am hard, you will not like me. But the more you hate me, the more you will learn. I am hard, but I am fair. There is no racial bigotry here. I do not look down on niggers, kikes, wops or greasers. Here you are all equally worthless.
What have we got here, a fucking comedian? Private Joker, I admire your honesty. Hell, I like you. You can come over to my house and fuck my sister. [he socks Joker in the gut] You little scumbag! I got your name! I got your ass! You will not laugh! You will not cry! You will learn by the numbers! I will teach you! Now get up! Get on your feet! You had best unfuck yourself, or I will unscrew your head and shit down your neck!
I bet you're the kinda guy that would fuck a person in the ass, and not even have the god-damn common courtesy to give him a reach-around.
[to Private Pyle from the top of an obstacle] Get up here, fat boy! Quickly! Move it on! Move it on, Pyle! Move it on! You climb obstacles like old people fuck. Do you know that, Private Pyle? Get up here. You're too slow! Move it. Move it! Private Pyle, whatever you do, don't fall down. That would break my fucking heart! [Pyle reaches the top] Quickly! Up and over. Up and over! Well, what the fuck are you waiting for, Private Pyle? Get up and over! Move it! Move it! Move it! Are you quitting on me? Are you? Then quit, you slimy fucking walrus-looking piece of shit! Get the fuck off of my obstacle! Get the fuck down off of my obstacle! Now! Move it! [Pyle crawls down] I'm gonna rip your balls off so you cannot contaminate the rest of the world! I will motivate you, Private Pyle, if it short-dicks every cannibal on the Congo!
The deadliest weapon in the world is a Marine and his rifle. It is your killer instinct which must be harnessed if you expect to survive in combat. Your rifle is only a tool. It is a hard heart that kills. If your killer instincts are not clean and strong, you will hesitate at the moment of truth. You will not kill. You will become dead Marines. And then you will be in a world of shit. Because Marines are not allowed to die without permission! Do you maggots understand?
Today … is Christmas! There will be a magic show at 9:30! Chaplain Charlie will tell you about how the free world will conquer Communism with the aid of God and a few Marines! God has a hard-on for Marines, because we kill everything we see! He plays His games, we play ours! To show our appreciation for so much power, we keep heaven packed with fresh souls! God was here before the Marine Corps! So you can give your heart to Jesus, but your ass belongs to the Corps! Do you ladies understand?
Today, you people are no longer pukes. Today, you are Marines! You're part of a brotherhood. From now, until the day you die, every Marine is your brother! And remember this: Marines die; that's what we're here for. But the Marine Corps lives forever, and that means you live forever!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [to Private Pyle on the obstacle course] Get your fat ass over there, Private Pyle! Oh, that's right, Private Pyle! Don't make any fucking effort to get to the top of the fucking obstacle! If God wanted you up there he would have miracled your ass up there by now wouldn't he?
Private Pyle: Sir, yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Get your fat ass up there, Pyle!
Private Pyle: Sir—
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: What the hell is the matter with you, anyway? I'll bet you if there was some pussy up there you could get up there, couldn't you?
Private Pyle: [falling off] Shit! Sir, yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Your ass looks like about a hundred fifty pounds of chewed bubble gum, Pyle. You know that?
Private Pyle: Sir, yes sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [to recruits, after finding a jelly donut in Pyle's foot locker] Private Pyle has dishonored himself and dishonored the platoon! I have tried to help him, but I have failed! I have failed because you have not helped me! You people have not given Private Pyle the proper motivation! So from now on, whenever Private Pyle fucks up, I will not punish him. I will punish all of you, and the way I see it, ladies, you owe me for one jelly donut! Now, get on your faces! [to Pyle] Open your mouth! [shoving the donut into Pyle's mouth] They're paying for it; you eat it! [to recruits] Ready, exercise!
Recruits: [doing push-ups as Pyle eats the donut]1-2-3-4! I LOVE MARINE CORPS!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Tonight, you pukes will sleep with your rifles. You will give your rifle a girl's name, because this is the only pussy you people are going to get. Your days of finger-banging ol' Mary-Jane Rottencrotch through her pretty pink panties are over! You're married to this piece. This weapon of iron and wood. And you will be faithful. Port, hut!
[Recruits grab their rifles]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Prepare to mount!
[Recruits step back towards their bunks. The recruits who'll be sleeping on the upper bunk turn towards them and start climbing]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Mount!
[Recruits quickly hop onto their bunks]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Port, hut!
[Recruits grab their rifles and hold them up]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Pray!
Recruits: [reciting the Rifleman's Creed, in unison] This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine. My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I must master my life. Without me, my rifle is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than my enemy, who is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. Before God I swear this creed: my rifle and myself are defenders of my country, we are the masters of our enemy, we are the saviors of my life. So be it, until there is no enemy, but peace. Amen.
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: Order, hut!
[Recruits lay their rifles at their sides]
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: At ease! [He turns the barrack lights off] Good night, ladies.
Recruits: [in unison]: Good night, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [referring to Lee Harvey Oswald and mass murderer Charles Whitman] Do any of you people know where these individuals learned how to shoot? [Private Joker raises his hand] Private Joker?
Private Joker: Sir, in the Marines, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: In the Marines! Outstanding! Those individuals showed what one motivated Marine and his rifle can do! And before you ladies leave my island, you will all be able to do the same thing!
[Joker finds Private Pyle loading his rifle in the head after lights-out,]
Private Pyle: Hi, Joker!
Private Joker: Are those live rounds?
Private Pyle: 7.62 millimeter, full metal jacket.
Private Joker: Leonard, if Hartman comes in here and catches us, we'll both be in a world of shit.
Private Pyle: I am in a world of shit! [begins rifle drilling loudly] LEFT SHOULDER, HUT! RIGHT SHOULDER, HUT! LOCK AND LOAD! ORDER, HUT! THIS IS MY RIFLE! THERE ARE MANY LIKE IT BUT THIS ONE IS MINE! ...
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [to other recruits] Get back in your bunks! [storming into the head] What is this Mickey Mouse shit? What in the name of Jesus H. Christ are you animals doing in my head? [to Joker] Why is Private Pyle out of his bunk after lights out? Why is Private Pyle holding that weapon? Why aren't you stomping Private Pyle's guts out?
Private Joker: Sir, it is the private's duty to inform the senior drill instructor that Private Pyle has a full magazine! It is locked and loaded, sir!
Gunnery Sergeant Hartman: [quietly] Now, you listen to me, Private Pyle, and you listen good. I want that weapon and I want it now. You will place that rifle on the deck at your feet, and step back away from it. [Pyle aims the rifle at Hartman, who starts yelling.] What is your major malfunction, numbnuts? Didn't Mommy and Daddy show you enough attention when you were a child?! [Pyle shoots him in the chest, killing him, then aims at Joker.]
Private Joker: Easy, Leonard. Go easy, man. [Pyle puts the rifle's muzzle in his own mouth] NO!! [Pyle fires]
Colonel: Marine, what is that button on your body armor?
Joker: A peace symbol, sir.
Colonel: Where'd you get it?
Joker: I don't remember, sir.
Colonel: What is that you've got written on your helmet?
Joker: "Born to kill", sir.
Colonel: You write "born to kill" on your helmet, and you wear a peace button. What's that supposed to be, some kind of sick joke?
Joker: No, sir.
Colonel: What is it supposed to mean?
Joker: I don't know, sir.
Colonel: You don't know very much, do you?
Joker: No, sir.
Colonel: You better get your head and your ass wired together, or I will take a giant shit on you!
Joker: Yes, sir.
Colonel: Now answer my question or you'll be standing tall before the man!
Joker: I think I was trying to suggest something about the duality of man, sir.
Colonel: The what?
Joker: The duality of man. The Jungian thing, sir.
Colonel: Whose side are you on, son?
Joker: Our side, sir.
Colonel: Don't you love your country?
Joker: Yes, sir.
Colonel: Then how 'bout getting with the program? Why don't you jump on the team and come on in for the big win?
Joker: Yes, sir.
Colonel: Son, all I've ever asked of my Marines is for them to obey my orders as they would the word of God. We are here to help the Vietnamese, because inside every gook there is an American trying to get out. It's a hard-ball world, son. We've gotta try to keep our heads until this peace craze blows over!