THE MY LAI MASSACRE Based on true story. SUPERIMPOSE: BASED ON A TRUE STORY. FADE IN:

INT. WAREHOUSE A hammer is hitting a nail - a steady tempo is formed. SERIES OF SHOTS A VIETNAMESE CRAFTSMEN produces planks, sawing using a carpenter’s bow saw. Nearby, the CRAFTSMAN’S SON amuses himself by stacking and balancing sawn-off cuts as high as possible without it toppling over. The Craftsmen is assembling a wooden coffin - child-sized. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN:

EXT. CAMBODIAN EMBASSY - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: 11TH JUNE 1963. SAIGON. THE INDEPENDENT REPUBLIC OF SOUTH VIETNAM. The hammer’s banging tempo transitions into marching footsteps. The concourse facade of the Cambodian Embassy. About 10 yards away, MALCOLM BROWNE and other Journalists congregate; another is a Vietnamese photographer, NICK UT; all are waiting for an arranged protest. Close to the street is a 15-year-old Vietnamese boy, spindly armed and long-legged. There’s an air of innocence about him - this is TUÂN. He’s collecting stones purposefully and putting them in his pockets. He stops as ahead the protest is unfolding. An Austin Westminster Sedan and a procession proceeds; 350 Buddhists, Monks and Nuns form two phalanxes. Some are holding banners in Thai and English, denouncing the regime and Diem governmental persecution against independent religion. 2.

The Austin Westminster Sedan brakes. Once stopped, two MONKS get out of the car from the driver’s and front passenger’s side. The Monks open the Sedan’s trunk. Monk #1 takes out a five- gallon gasoline Jerry can and Monk #2 a hassock cushion. Another Monk then gets out of the car from the rear passenger door, THICH QUANG DUC. Monk #2 places the hassock cushion across the thoroughfare. Thich Quang Duc approaches Monk #2, averting his eyes from the congregating crowd of SPECTATORS. In deep concentration, he settles onto the hassock cushion and assumes the Lotus pose. The Buddhists from the procession stand in a circle around Thich Quang Duc. Monk #1 takes the five gallons of gasoline and begins draining it in a gentle downpour for 30 seconds onto Thich Quang Duc. The spectators vehemently contest but are held off by the Buddhists’ circle. A lone spectator, Tuân, prominently stands stock-still, watching the spectacle. Thich Quang Duc poses serenely. The moment is underplayed but significant. Monk #2 sits, mirroring Thich Quang Duc’s Lotus pose, and begins to chant. After a moment, they put their hands together to pray and both bow. Thich Quang Duc remains composed as all the Buddhists begin chanting in unison. BUDDHISTS CHANTING (In Vietnamese; subtitled, continuous) ...A Buddhist priest burns himself to death...... A Buddhist priest becomes a martyr... SERIES OF SHOTS Thich Quang Duc holds in his hand a string of wooden prayer beads; they gyrate within his grasp. Thich Quang Duc reveals in his free hand a single match. 3.

He strikes the match on the road, raises it, and releases the lit match. The match falls, igniting the gasoline instantly. Thich Quang Duc’s flesh blackens, but he remains tranquil. The Spectators now show the selfsame equanimity. Stepping out into the road is Malcolm Browne. He encapsulates Thich Quang Duc’s self immolation through the undulating smoke with his camera, capturing a Pulitzer Prize- winning photograph.

EXT. CAMBODIAN EMBASSY - LATE DAY The flames have now naturally extinguished. The Monk sitting still repeats a bow to Thich Quang Duc’s burnt body. The other Buddhists raise Thich Quang Duc and place the burnt body in a coffin. The coffin remains unsealed as the lid will not shut because of the stiff corpse. The Buddhists ceremonially march the open coffin by the Spectators. Tuân runs across the width of the road in front of the Buddhists. He arrives at an open doorway and enters.

INT. MILITARY RECRUITMENT/MEDICAL OFFICE - CONTINUOUS SERIES OF SHOTS A VIETNAMESE DOCTOR is smoking a cigarette with one hand and gestures “next” with the other. Tuân steps forward. Tuân stands on a set of weighing scales. The needle hits a weight that satisfies the Doctor. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN:

EXT. ARABLE LANDS & DENSE FORESTRY - DAWN The roar of a 3C-123 PROVIDER AIRCRAFT makes its way over a large reflective semiaquatic agricultural vegetation. The landscape transitions into miles of flooded craters from an indiscriminate carpet-bombing. 4.

The ground then breaks in a clear line of dense jungle. The aircraft's cargo hold opens, dispersing a pestilential mist of Agent Orange.

EXT. ARABLE LANDS & DENSE FORESTRY - MEANWHILE Three VIET CONG, one is Tuân - now 5 years older - drift along in a sampan down-river. They’re staying close to the bank’s cover of foliage. The faint roar of the 3C-123 Provider Aircraft reverberates. The Viet Cong stand tall, peering at the bank intensively. At the same time, a heavily PREGNANT WOMAN on the bank is watching them. She’s standing near an unnaturally decaying treeline caused by the frequent fall of the U.S. defoliant. CUT TO:

EXT. DENSE JUNGLE LOCATION #1 - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: 25TH FEBRUARY 1968. THE QUANG NGAI PROVINCE. Charlie company, Company C, 2ND PLATOON. Men, the majority are youthful, early twenties, all virgins of military confrontation but not of its obstacles. Fatigued, perspiring and filthy, they’re trying to maneuver against an entangling undergrowth. CAPTAIN MEDINA - “MAD DOG”. A Mexican-American, at the dawn of his thirties, the commanding officer of Company C - GOD for all intensive purposes. He leads the patrol.

EXT. DENSE JUNGLE LOCATION #2 - MEANWHILE The 1ST PLATOON, men of the same complex as the 2nd Platoon, still of Captain Medina’s command but instigating an individualized patrol under another officer. The leading officer is LIEUTENANT CALLEY, mid-twenties, terminally immoral - terminally for others; he’s a victim of his own inability. Lieutenant Calley is lost, beside himself, muttering. A wiry but fierce Staff Sgt., DAVID MITCHELL, weaves his way through the bulk of the Platoon. They yield up loose smirks as he passes in recognition of Calley’s behavior. 5.

Mitchell is at Lieutenant Calley. Calley takes a few deep breaths, grabs Mitchell by the scruff of the collar, and delves into his possessions for a topographical field map and unfolds it. The two men hover over the map. Behind him is a Pvt., HARRY STANLEY, a Mississippi fella with a working moral compass. Intrigue infects him; he does his best to listen but is distracted by what’s ahead. MITCHELL (O.S.) LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Overdid it, fuck. A fucking straight route and the platoon has drifted to Medina! Ahead of Stanley is a stagnant creek - it’s polluted. He treks to it, investigates it. The words between Calley and Mitchell become muted. Realizing this, Stanley backpedals from where he came. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) MITCHELL (O.S.) (CONT’D) We’ll still rendezvous at Fucked it up from the get-go Medina, here... here. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) It’s premature! Not happening, no, no... Stanley looks back toward Calley and Mitchell. Mitchell hesitates. Calley faces Mitchell down. Stanley is taken aback by another, a familiar friend, New Jersey born ALLEN BOYCE. He’s singled him out; he has questions. By his look, Stanley knows the first. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) ...Clarity’s sake: I will not plate up an opportunity for Medina to put my leadership fucking down! I shouldn't have to det-ail this. STANLEY Yeah, we’re lost Boyce. BOYCE Don’t fuckin’ say that to me! Platoon was lost yesterday. I was fuckin’ ‘ere, weren’t I? Today is today, Har’. STANLEY And today the platoon’s lost... BOYCE Fuck that man! Where’s his smarts? 6.

STANLEY BOYCE (CONT'D) That a question, or are you Smartest thing he’d ever setting yourself up for the gone ‘n done was t’ learn next one? that he’s fuckin’ stupid. BOYCE (CONT’D) The whole gamut of that cunts abilities -- it’s nonexistent. Ya’ fuckin’ get’d on near ‘nough he’s nothin’ other than fuckin’ incompetent. STANLEY Useful trait, Mad Dog would concur - - Calley being incompetent means he doesn't have to do as much. BOYCE Mm-hm, gets the fuckin’ Sergeant up there... At least we’ve got that -- STANLEY Now enough of the chitchat about Calley. I don’t want to have this conversation twice. INTERCUT BETWEEN 1ST PLATOON AND 2ND PLATOON 2ND PLATOON Captain Medina and the Platoon grind to a halt. Ahead is an abandoned hamlet. It’s reclaimed within the jungle’s grasp; all that defines it from the greenery is an old napalm scar. A Lieutenant, STEPHEN BROOKS, mid-twenties, a favorite pup of Mad Dog’s, but this rabid pup should’ve been put down already; he takes a few steps forward. Behind him is the flutter of some tatty papers. He shifts his eyes to get a closer look. Among the knotted thicket is a litter of American propaganda leaflets. VARNADO SIMPSON treks in front, picks up a leaflet, reads it. He’s 19 and an African-American; always seems as if he’s thinking but with an air of dementia or derangement. Letting it loose, he hesitates; he’s seen something else. In the undergrowth are profiles of several bamboo strut frames, 6’ x 4’, entwined with spirals of barbed wire - "Tiger Cages." He steps toward the Tiger Cage; inside is a skeleton, agonizingly entangled. 1ST PLATOON 7.

Lieutenant Calley takes the map, folds it along the crease, and pocketing it, he splits away from the others, still in earshot of Mitchell. The Platoon begins to move out alongside the stream. Progressively, its sediment alters to a cast-iron hue. Stanley lamely falls to the rear position, Boyce is slightly behind. Stanley and Boyce drift on by MICHAEL BERNHARDT, a hard-worn soldier with a religious slant. Bernhardt’s squatting, excruciatingly shitting gallons. BERNHARDT (Under-breath) This fuckin’ burn. (To Stanley, sarcastically) Am I dead? BOYCE STANLEY Hah, like us it’ll just go Bernhardt count -- on ‘n on. STANLEY (CONT’D) Inhale, exhale while counting to five, hold it for another count, exhale on the five another time. Bernhardt is agonizingly straining; he can’t do it. BERNHARDT Fuck it, I must be dead and dammed... (Jesting) I’m feelin’ my ass-soul burnin’ in hell. Stanley’s grinning; he slips away, tilts his head back, still talking to Bernhardt. STANLEY High time you judge the lie, Bernhardt -- no soul to sell, to be damned. Contracted it out. Wasn’t that the deal? BOYCE Maybe that was the devil’s booth I signed as s’well. LAWRENCE LA CROIX, KENNETH HODGES, both squad leaders, and ROBERT MAPLES, a quiet well-mannered and thoughtful African- American from Englishtown, New Jersey; all crank their heads by their own intrigue to Stanley. 8.

HODGES MAPLES (To La Croix, jesting) Please, Harry. You get the Bernhardt looks laid back. gist of the situation? STANLEY BOYCE Well, what do y’all want me (Interrupting) to say? Oh well, Lieutenant’s fooled yet again by another compass. LA CROIX Fuck-sake, “Rusty” Calley's doubting his direction? MAPLES Anyone able to walk with and put a few good words in his ear? Maples gets more then one answer. HODGES LA CROIX Words in that man’s ear -- Maples, ain’t actually like what’s that good for? ya’ can flick a switch for him to listen. BOYCE Like piss, might s’well be spoken to the wind. STANLEY At least wind has a direction. MAPLES LA CROIX How can it be? He’s an Situation don’t -- doesn’t officer. make sense Hodges. HODGES Fuck it, no sense makes sense with tha’ Lieutenant. STANLEY And if y’all are finished know that also we’re hemmed in firm at Medina’s patrol. HODGES That’s great. By that it’s Valkyries’ call if by friendly’s fire? BOYCE LA CROIX True that Hodges. Palms flat ‘n bow head, it goes by way of the Lieutenant, boys. 9.

All pass Michael Bernhardt, he’s still squatting. Boyce whistles for attention, as he gives a grenade hanging from military clothes a friendly tap, tap and a smirk. STANLEY Boyce, if you’re making threats, well, spit it out and make ‘em. HODGES The bounty isn't quite high 'nough. Not for that anyhow, Boyce. LA CROIX It’s not wrong to kill if in the end it’s right, Kenneth. MAPLES There’s nothing you can’t talk about, ‘ey La Croix? LA CROIX BOYCE I was dropped on my head as -- It’s a natural and a kid. healthy reaction of war. STANLEY All those thoughtful intentions weigh less than a single action. Stanley peers into the featureless jungle. Behind, Bernhardt pulls up the waist of his trousers and walks following the others. LA CROIX What exactly does that mean, Private? HODGES Helpful to think it and easy to speak it -- STANLEY And not so easy to do it. BOYCE (Patronizing) You've always been distanced from me, Robby boy. What’s your take on him bein’ dead. MAPLES (Honestly) I don’t want him dead. BOYCE (Derisively) Well, Maples, that’s a thinker. 10.

LA CROIX Are you ready Boyce? Know what, neither do I. BOYCE I didn’t know you were so soft and cuddly, Lawrence. Knew Maples fuckin’ was. HODGES Well, ya’ never really know ‘bout people. LA CROIX If he was dead, I’d lose that positive attitude of mine, dreaming with that idea of the well-placed grenade -- shrapnel ricocheting. La Croix flicks his jugular with his finger and thumb. HODGES Look, La Croix’s -- his eyes are full of joy. They all stop frozen in place, stunned by what Stanley was distracted by. In front is a metamorphosis of a rampant outgrowth turned unnatural, eradicated by the herbicidal warfare. 2ND PLATOON Captain Medina and the Platoon are getting ready to move out from the abandoned hamlet. Meanwhile, Simpson is glancing at GARY ROSCHEVITZ, a stocky blond-haired Kansas city, 230-pound, six-foot-tall grunt. Roschevitz steps forward; he half-drags his foot at a unfamiliar underlayer of jungle. He kneels low and skims his palm atop what are perforated holes on a sheet of iron - an "Iron Grill." Lieutenant Brooks moseys onto the other edge of the grill, slams his foot down, getting Roschevitz’s attention. LIEUTENANT BROOKS If there’s hate in those gooks’ hearts, well, they know how to best use it... Roschevitz stands, looks at his feet - in between the iron slats of the oxidized grill is what appears to be peeled skin. 11.

LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT’D) See, would ‘a rolled'em over'n over. ROSCHEVITZ Who’s that, lieutenant? LIEUTENANT BROOKS Whoever’s fuckin’ skin that is on that grill, you cunt. There’s an air of silence for a few seconds. Lieutenant Brooks’ eye is drawn to something else metallic. He rummages through a patch of bracken close to his feet. He pulls out a rusty pair of bull nose pliers with a finger nail still in its grip. He looks at them thinking, then looks to LEONARD GONZALEZ - sad-eyed, experienced not in warfare but its effects. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT’D) Best you fuckin’ bite your fingernails down low, Gonzalez. Gonzalez doesn’t know what to say; he distracts himself, gazes then beyond what’s in front of Captain Medina. Medina’s eyeballing them at their curiosity of the torturing methods. 1ST PLATOON Pvts. BOBBY WILSON and PAUL MEADLO; Meadlo looks as if he’s been fighting to survive his entire life, has in a way against himself. In a slow-footed pace, both go beyond the 1st Platoon, looking at the dying acreage. MEADLO Bobby, why does it smell of grassy green gardens? WILSON How the fuck would I know? Bernhardt follows; he stomps through decomposing leaves, passes Wilson and Meadlo, going further inwards. BERNHARDT Shouldn't be doin’ that. Even as a young man Meadlo, like yourself. MEADLO Shouldn't be doin’ that? What’s he rattlin’ on about, Bobby? 12.

BERNHARDT Breathing ‘ere, that'll poison you stone-cold. MEADLO Fuckin’ late to be tellin’ me that. Bernhardt musters on GREG OLSEN - he’s devout, from a good part of town, fucked up considering where he is now. Olsen’s arcing the foliage’s edge into the herbicidal clearing near Bernhardt. OLSEN I think every day takes me further from my life. At the same time, behind Wilson and Meadlo indirectly start moving in among the decaying ferns. BERNHARDT God’s handiwork, guarantee whatever it is, there's a feller of ours cookin’ up a vat to bring about its death. OLSEN That makes a man smarter than God? Meadlo toils in peeling back curdling bark on a wilted sapling as Wilson still marvels at the abyss of stunted, perpetual forestry. BERNHARDT Put it his way. God invented men like you Greg, and he’d made a man and he gave that man another to hate... Bernhardt is excruciatingly tense all of a sudden. He puts his hand down the back of his trousers, takes a closer look at his palm; there’s excrement and blood - it’s dysentery. BERNHARDT (CONT’D) ...That makes God a step ahead. OLSEN What’s on your hand? BERNHARDT My own shit. And of all times, I’m with no leaves near by... An assistant radiotelephone operator approaches Wilson from behind - FREDERICK WIDMER, a gangly, skinny boy from Pittsburgh. 13.

Wilson edges his steps to make room for Widmer. As he steps there’s a sudden click. A vibration of a fuse sounds. In front of him the soil lifts and falls, revealing to Wilson's eye an S-mine or "Bouncing Betty." It spins off its axis and explodes. There’s a huge roar of an explosion. Flesh disperses like a moist mist, fading as if sparks of a fire. 2ND PLATOON Captain Medina understands that the Platoons are ignorantly close to one another as he shudders at the echo of the explosion. The 2nd Platoon waits in the lull of the explosion’s ring, dropping into a prone position. Medina doesn’t, he stands tall. Leonard Gonzalez and another, THOMAS PARTSCH, begin to stand up, stock-still, listening. 1ST PLATOON With an unbalanced foothold, Widmer scales a scree-covered ground. MEADLO (O.S.) Was it an incomin’ shell? LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Meadlo, quiet! Widmer wipes a blood-spatter from his mouth and tumbles, falling to something horrifying. MITCHELL (O.S.) Was that Wilson I saw? LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) What happened? Bernhardt not far away, spots Widmer; he’s fallen on Bobby Wilson. Bernhardt walks closer; he foams through his lips in a reflux of stomach acid: there’s Wilson’s corpse - a wound that’s riven vertically, splitting the spine downwards. Lieutenant Calley coldly looms; leaning, he unhurriedly puts his hand to Wilson's torso. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Fuck. Animals don’t do this. Bernhardt lifts Widmer from Wilson’s body. 14.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Who's the man? No answer. Mitchell proceeds from behind with some of the 1st Platoon. None of them are prepared for what they observe, all hover. A field medic, ROBERT LEE, proceeds forward, driven by duty but distracted by the horror still. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) I’ll be requiring a name of the soldier, sergeant? Mitchell! WIDMER I-t, it uh, It’s Wilson. Lieutenant Calley looks at Widmer. He’s shaking, in a state of shock, soaked in gore. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Medic, see that it ain’t Widmer’s blood on himself. Lee adheres to Calley’s order. Nothing happens from anyone else; they just stare at Wilson’s body. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Fuck! I’m not waiting for myself to put something atop of his body! MITCHELL Bernhardt. Meadlo. Cloak the body! Bernhardt and Meadlo unfurl a poncho. Both lift Wilson's ripped carcass, stationing the remains atop of it, wrapping it, tying it. LIEUTENANT CALLEY These fucking cowards, know 'em -- cowards when I see 'em, but these slope fuckers, you'll never see the front of 'em... Bernhardt and Meadlo lift the poncho separating its blood- soaked earthen bond; there’s a distinguishing swill by the sanguinary fluids against the synthetic fibers. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) ...Neither their backs, just their devilry remain'n t’ be trodden on... Bobby Wilson’s body is placed on the ground again. The contact engages a further mine; a detonation releases, moderated underneath the body. 15.

2ND PLATOON Paltry cries sound close as the blast rings out a couple times before fading out. Disorder follows; the Platoon crouches, running in opposite directions to find cover. The 1st and 2nd Platoons’ patrols unintentionally merge at the scene’s location. 1ST PLATOON AND 2ND PLATOON Beside the creek’s edge, a Pvt., GUSTAVO ROTGER, follows its course. He tramples a step mine or "Mosquito" mine. Inspissated metal shreds his left boot’s toe cap. Rotger, fallen on his back, looks at the sight of his smoldering boot. Its toe is ripped to bits; he can’t look away, terrified by its distraction. At the same time, another incendiary explosion detonates. An aftereffect of more screams follows. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) Backtrack those steps; it's Move at them! One at a time! a mine field! Rotger’s still hot, frayed boot steams in the water’s chill. He pries off the left boot; with his tatty military-issued sock soaked in blood, he pinches the toes: ROTGER 1, 2, 3, 4, 5... Rotger looks in disbelief at the tally. A blast then bellows nearby; shrapnel blows as if a breeze at Rotger - fatally he’s hit, killed from multiple fragment traumas. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) Fuck! ...Can't see them! LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT'D) ...Stand fucking still! Call out. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) Tread careful or not at all! A SERGEANT runs to Rotger. A land mine shell detonates by the Sergeant; his rifle leaps out of his arms. 16.

A corresponding chain reaction of another explosion follows near the rifle, causing it to bounce. The Sergeant is hit, lost in the blast. The smoke fades and reveals that he’s blinded by shrapnel. Bracing his dismembered legs, he repetitively falls with relentless suffering as he strives to stand. Captain Medina approaches his dismemberment’s misery. Captain Medina glances nearby at another who just perches among an outgrowth, frightened - HERBERT CARTER, a small African-American, nicknamed “Tunnel Rat.” From Carter’s point-of-view is a Pvt., DONNELL BELL. Bell wanders, disoriented from the aftermath of plummeting, snapping understory, effectuated by a damaged, gyrating rifle depleting ammunition - the Sergeant’s rifle. Bell turns to Carter revealing his breast littered with shrapnel and his forearm hanging down, linked only by ligaments. He falls, asphyxiating. SUPERIMPOSE TITLE: THE MY LAI MASSACRE. Robert Lee reaches Bell. Lee appraises the traumas to Bell’s midriff. Lee begins affixing a safety pin through Bell’s tongue and cheek - a stopgap forestalling asphyxiation by tongue weighing down the throat’s passage. It’s violent and pragmatic, however futile. LEE Bell. That’s it, that’s it Bell, you’re doing fine! Just fine, Bell! SLAMS TO BLACK. FADE IN:

EXT./INT. ARABLE LANDS & DENSE FORESTRY - DAWN SUPERIMPOSE: THREE DAYS BEFORE THE MASSACRE. Soaring, a Hiller OH-23 Raven spirals forward, staying parallel to a jungle’s plane, reconning and recording signs of enemy positions in-between civilian hamlets. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT 17.

Inside its small plexiglass cockpit is a cocky and aggressive reconnaissance pilot but one still of discipline and integrity - HUGH THOMPSON. Behind Thompson within the fuselage are those who operate as its crew, an 18-year-old gunner, LAWRENCE “LARRY” COLBURN, and its crew chief, GLENN ANDORETTOA. ANDORETTOA (To Thompson) Enough eyes on us. Two o’clock, boss. COLBURN Unarmed civilians. No V-C, as yet Andorettoa. ANDORETTOA That’s speculation, Colburn. COLBURN We’re observation, speculation is the job. ANDORETTOA See, what you yourself fail to realize is we have an adversary that lacks any insignia. Viet Cong may have an eye on us, a sympathizer anyhow. Right, Thompson? THOMPSON I don’t regard a fleeing person as the enemy for sure. ANDORETTOA So, it’s always inaction or clean hands, boss?

EXT. DENSE FORESTRY - MEANWHILE Indistinguishable muted Vietnamese chatter throughout. A FEMALE V-C GUERRILLA loiters, tracking American movements by following a trail of their disposed cigarettes and cigarillos. Other VIET CONG tail her; she sits tight in the foliage guarding as the Viet Cong start something. SERIES OF SHOTS The other Viet Cong execute the methodical preparations for defensive traps. 18.

THOMPSON (V.O.) Profiles the enemy separate from innocent bystanders or the operative sympathizers. So first hand, though, that’s inactivity or innocence. A V-C Guerrilla begins manufacturing a step mine. He handles an empty .50 caliber shell casing while another V-C Guerrilla fills it to the brim with gunpowder and metal detritus. ANDORETTOA (V.O.) And that relates to inactivity or innocence -- little fucking elusive in their part. THOMPSON (V.O.) It’s us who manufacture this elusive enemy, Glenn. And that’s that. Now, at the same time, another Viet Cong, Tuân, manipulates a sizzling crucible of melting wax overtop flaming foliage. The others begin readying the .50 caliber shell in front of Tuân. Tuân begins to seal the filled casing’s top. The wax cools fast as another V-C blows on it. ANDORETTOA (V.O.) And that’s that, hey Hugh? Respectful words when Charlie is picking off U.S. soldiers one and two at a time... THOMPSON (V.O.) ...Who’s not baptized by conflict, we’re all a fucking enemy to someone. The wax is solidified. Tuân then lays the casing inside a hollow bamboo strand. Then, he inserts a nail into the underside by using another bamboo strand as a mallet. COLBURN (V.O.) Admiration for ‘em, boss? THOMPSON (V.O.) Spartans way of existence. Yes, I fucking do. Tuân shortens the ends of the bamboo using a machete. 19.

Then, he furiously digs a small pit with the machete. Tuân places the casing so only the wax is exposed; soil is brushed around the shell by other V-C’s free hands. Another VIET CONG WOMAN then carries past a 155 mm artillery shell as the rotors of the American Aeroscout reverberate above. TUÂN (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Careful now! Careful now! Find cover! Find cover! The Viet Cong Guerrillas hide themselves underneath the jungle’s fallen foliage. TUÂN (CONT’D) Americans! Americans! Find cover! CUT TO:

EXT. ARABLE LAND - LATE DAY SUPERIMPOSE: TWO DAYS BEFORE THE MASSACRE. A 2nd Platoon squadron of three SOLDIER’S dashes to a yellow smoke-marked landing zone for a helicopter’s approach. Among them is Greg Olsen. Olsen slows, revealing he’s lathed in a blackish-red sash of blood, his eyes are pinned by adrenaline. OLSEN (V.O.) Dear Dad, how's everything with you? I’m still here on the bridge, we leave here Saturday.

EXT. DENSE FORESTRY - DAY (HOURS EARLIER) A tree falls, ricocheting on neighboring forestry. OLSEN (V.O.) One of our platoons went out on a routine patrol today and came across a 155 mm artillery round that was booby trapped. A branch drops at close quarters on a pair of smoldering, dismembered limbs of an American. 20.

OLSEN (V.O.) It killed one man, blew the legs off two others, and injured two more. Above is an HH-3 Marine Search and Rescue Helicopter’s silhouette. It’s lifting a harnessed dead Staff Sgt. George Cox. OLSEN (V.O.) And it all made a bad day even worse.

EXT. ARABLE LAND - LATE DAY (MINUTES BEFORE) Olsen looks beyond a declivity of arable landscapes at VIETNAMESE WOMEN, toiling amid rice paddies eked out of the clearing. OLSEN (V.O.) On their way back to “Dottie” they saw a woman working in the fields. The Vietnamese Women quickly turn and flee. An ELDERLY WOMAN incapable of fleeing is seized by SOLDIER #1 of the enlisted squadron. SOLDIER #2 grounds the Woman with a non-fatal shot. OLSEN (V.O.) They shot and wounded her. Then they kicked her to death and emptied their magazines into her head. Soldier #1 pins her arms behind her back as SOLDER #3 caves in the Woman's head. All casually circle the faced down Woman. OLSEN (V.O.) They slugged every little kid they came across. Why in God’s name does this have to happen? These are all seemingly normal guys; some were friends of mine. For a while they were like wild animals. The three Soldier’s then blindly spray the remaining rounds of their M14s - chunks of topsoil and flesh soar as they kill the Woman. OLSEN (V.O.) It was murder, and I’m ashamed of myself for not trying to do anything about it. 21.

Olsen walks nearer the scene as it plays out, finishing. OLSEN (V.O.) This isn't the first time, Dad. I've seen it many times before. I don’t know why I’m telling you all this; I guess I just want to get it off my chest. CUT TO:

EXT. LANDING ZONE DOTTIE - NIGHTTIME SUPERIMPOSE: THE NIGHT BEFORE THE MASSACRE. Empty prairie, an American landing zone designated "Dottie." At the American airstrip, underneath a spotlight, Olsen’s finishing writing a letter, leaning on a chemical tanker of Herbicidal Orange with tarred on words: "THE PURPLE EATER." OLSEN (V.O.) My faith in my fellow man is all shot to hell. I just want the time to pass and I just want to come home. He walks past a staked apex of a sign. From it a knotted noose hangs against a streaked painted message, "WANTED DEAD OR ALIVE ‘GOOKS’ - REWARD SGT. STRIPES AND 3-DAY R+R." OLSEN (V.O.) I really believe as you do, Dad, there is a cause behind all this, and if it is God’s will for me to go, I would rather do it here than home on the freeway. Olsen arrives by an Army photographer, RONALD HAEBERLE, for stars and stripes. Haeberle’s photography equipment includes an Army camera and a personal camera. OLSEN (V.O.) Saturday, we’re going to be dropped in by air in an NVA stronghold. Haeberle is showing reverence in memoriam for Staff Sgt. George Cox. Beside him is also LENNY LAGUNOY, who is showing the selfsame sorrow. OLSEN (V.O.) I’m still hoping I’ll be able to get out of here for a few days to go to a conference. Olsen continues to a barracks. 22.

EXT. BARRACKS - CONTINUOUS Cigarettes cinders illuminate the blackness, revealing the familiar faces of the 1st and 2nd Platoon, all before Captain Medina, who’s solitarily communicating with a political adroitness. OLSEN (V.O.) Don't expect any letters for a while but please keep writing them. I love and miss you and Mom so much. CAPTAIN MEDINA You all might well utter words that it was a courtesy of Colonel Henderson to unload what was a concise unprepared brief a few hours ago. Olsen makes an appearance at the back of the group, edging in. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) See, then at least you boys in front aren’t filled with fear by the sun’s rise.

EXT. ARABLE LAND & DENSE JUNGLE - DAY (FLASHBACK) SUPERIMPOSE: 12TH FEBRUARY 1968. An open landscape, obscured by a V-C defensive leaden ash, cast by charring piles of wooden billets. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) All that vastly linear intelligence provided, undeniably, well it affirms that multiple zip hamlets in pinkville shape up to what is a magnificent cunthole... Running from a muddy river’s brae is the 1st Platoon, high on adrenaline, sprinting at the order of Lieutenant Calley. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) A cunthole that’s a mothering haven for a V-C battalion. Michael Bernhardt trudges through a quagmire, passing another, BILL WEBBER. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Christ all-fucking-mighty, forward! 23.

It reveals that all are exposed to the scope of an effective sniper as he fires. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Get to and through that fucking river -- goddamn-it to the sniper! CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) But now all that was alluded -- it was indeed the facts. Facts that were scheduled in a drop while those “innocents” -- not my word, well they will all have gone to market. Bernhardt, with his waterlogged steps, falls face first in the marshy earth, his helmet falls off. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) Well, I know what you’re thinking, the whole situation’s full of lies, or misinformation because the cusp of that all is any Vietnamese that stay behind, well, they’re valid targets. He looks up; there among the frothing settled ash is an already sprung bamboo whip and tied tripwire on tipped bamboo poles - a “Punji Trap.” CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) So, put it in the forefront of your mind that we’re anticipating an all out V-C conflict outnumbering us two to one. He stands, picks up his helmet and shares a look with a soldier now next to him, Frederick Widmer - both lack the belief that the commands are not insisting on all finding cover. Widmer jogs to Bernhardt, helps him to his feet fully, but Widmer falls in his place, practically joining him. WIDMER This fucking smoke...... It’s ricocheting against my fucking nostrils...... With every drag of fucking air... Bernhardt stands, hoists Widmer's field gear, raising him to a standing position. Bernhardt raises his helmet out in front of him, brushing off the filth from it. 24.

BERNHARDT Can't reach out with my hand and see my fuckin’ helmet. Meanwhile, Webber runs out in front of Widmer and Bernhardt. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) At a disadvantage. Yes, we are. The sniper takes a shot; the bullet’s tone is subdued by making contact with Bill Webber's throat. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) What’re the rules of our Military’s engagement? Bill Webber falls backwards into the river’s silt brae. Bernhardt and Widmer are still behind; neither one notices Webber fall. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) Well, my ruling it’ll be. My perspective -- A sniper’s shot proceeds again and again. Returning M16 gunfire answers the sniper’s call. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) The devil had a past, was an angel lost and fallen. And if in hell it was to this day that he were to be baptized not of the fire but by God’s bless-ed holy water, of the Almighty's forgiveness, well in my mind I still will not fucking pray beside the beast. Bernhardt throws his helmet, aggravating his response. BERNHARDT Motherfuckin’ coward! Show yourself you motherfucker! He wipes the sweat and dirt off his face and sprints toward the sniper. Nearing Widmer is Webber, he realizes Webb’s fallen, sees Webber's splintered windpipe as it unmasks a neat bloody shimmer. Meanwhile, words call out, shouted by David Mitchell. He moves at Webber as an M16 arsenal is further cued by the tireless sniper’s shots. MITCHELL Medic! Medic! Where the fuck is the fucking Medic! 25.

The sound of the sniper’s gunshots ring out across the ungraded flatlands again and again. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Move to the motherfucker! LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) MITCHELL (CONT’D) (To the Platoon) You’ve got to keep fucking Get to fucking cover! Find moving at the sniper! cover! Robert Lee is now a few steps away from Webber. He darts forward with force; kneeling, he stares at Webber's throat for a split second. LEE I'm going to need you sergeant, you Mitchell, to assist now! Now! Okay? Mitchell, joins but is at a slight loss of what to do. MITCHELL Alright, Lee! I’ve got it, Lee! Mitchell places his hands loosely on Webber's windpipe. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) It ain’t about judging a race, a people. There’s no need for judgment. How can you judge someone who's already all the bad and worst there is? It's like judging the dead. And guilt? I say I’ll cry when I’m done killing. Widmer, still in shock, is looking at the blood-matted grass. He quickly scoots over to Webber, listening distractedly to the steady pumping of blood from his throat. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) I’m yet to split that tear. Huh. If they live as if the devil, don’t let them die as if a saint. LEE (To Widmer) The kit! I need it opened! (To Mitchell) I need some more pressure on this wound! Okay. Okay. I need more fucking pressure! Mitchell takes the cue, forcing downward pressure on Bill Webber's throat. 26.

LEE (CONT’D) Press down on that! Before he fucking bleeds out now! Webber undergoes a procedure. Lee endeavors to clamp and restrict the perilous arterial bleeding. LEE (CONT’D) Fuck it. Hold him! Webber strives to hold pressure against his own wound as it spurts blood; through the attempt, he begins slowly receding down the silt brae. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) Make room in your mind that none are innocent. It’s natural to tell yourself that lie otherwise. I didn’t hate that lie, hated just being told the truth about the lie being there, ‘cause it changed me. Mitchell harnesses Webber from his sidle drift. Webber fights it. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) But does this seal their fate for you? That those that remain, they’re either NVA or actively sympathetic to that V-C guerrilla warfare. MITCHELL Widmer, the hands of the fucker! Widmer! Get the man’s hands out of the way, Fred! Widmer forcefully crosses Webber's arms; he lies motionless, eyes closing, shaking his head. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) Cut the mother at her breast and her infant child cannot survive. I want -- LEE Come on now! Come on now! CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) No! I will watch a vile poison of an incestuous generations bloodline spill out from a clean cut across their windpipe. 27.

LEE Yeah! Yeah. I've fucking got it, easy. I’ve fucking got it, almost now! Webber dies from his traumas. Death’s peace: an ultimate sluggish hemorrhage follows. The men give up and become still. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) As it was the blood of our brothers, theirs in a wetted spray across our chests from a sniper’s verdict -- the first to fucking go... Flesh flayed, matted underneath our eyelids by their tripwires. Don’t forget, we watched ours, our blood spill. It’s even fresher in some of our memories with what had happened a couple of days back, but what are you gonna do?

EXT. BARRACKS - NIGHTTIME The 1st and 2nd Platoon’s cigarettes are all stems of ash now as they listen intensely to Captain Medina. CAPTAIN MEDINA I will watch as standing by yourselves on the morrow’s sunrise, you tend to the eradication of their lives, crops, livestock, every fucking chicken and rooster! That their dink huts burn and fade - - decimated cinders! I mean that’s the only thing they understand! There’ll be no return for any cunt who survives! Their life for ever altered! Altered as our fallen brother’s kin -- their families are! (Calmly) We’re a company. Don’t forget why it is we do what we do. What we’ve done. (Firm) Kill everything. CUT TO BLACK. FADE IN: 28.

EXT. HILL, AGRICULTURAL BOROUGH - DAWN SUPERIMPOSE: THE MONTH BEFORE THE MASSACRE. THE QUANG NGAI PROVINCE. A finger touches a trigger of a rifle as it aims at the sky. Lengthy grass conically reeved as helmets show slight motions among long grasslands. One is Tuân; he leads a troop of VIET CONG to the other side of a hill; they’re camouflaged against airborne scouts.

EXT. HILL, AGRICULTURAL BOROUGH - DAY The crest of the hill is blanketed by scorch marks from phosphorous bombs - targeted, the Viet Cong camouflaged, cremated in a penultimate agonizing pose. Adjacent is weaponry staked as markers: at the first rests a human skull with a conical hat, the latter have the cremated V-C heads spiked on. DOWNHILL Along the markers downhill is a M113 Armored Personnel Carrier, stranded in a muddy bog; it’s overfilled with 12 SOUTH VIETNAMESE SOLDIERS sitting atop - notably, next to them is a radio antenna with 20 human ears strung like trophies. Other South Vietnamese Soldiers wade through the morass; toting bamboo, they lodge them underneath the Carrier’s tracks. The Armored Personnel Carrier upswings as it establishes traction and proceeds to drive.

EXT. ROADWAY - CONTINUOUS The Carrier reaches and travels on a roadway. It slows as it passes displaced VIETNAMESE FAMILIES. A VIETNAMESE FATHER approaches; he’s shouldering a deceased juvenile girl whose back’s been burned, flayed away. The M113 Armored Personnel Carrier's occupants eye the Father and dead girl. The Carrier gains distance, passing a black polyurethane sheet wrapped around a body, which a MOURNFUL WOMAN is pulling. 29.

On the ground is the trail that the bloody bag is leaving as it is dragged; the trail leads to an opening of a claustrophobic, burned-out tunnel network.

INT. TUNNEL - CONTINUOUS Through the tunneling darkness, at the other end, is Michael Bernhardt. He maneuvers in a prone position; at his feet is a burnt-out hole once snake-lined to an aperture of bamboo trusses and bracken - a "Two-Step Charlie." Bernhardt steps over and exits the tunnel.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL BOROUGH - CONTINUOUS Exiting, Bernhardt reaches a landscape littered with craters from a past shelling. In front, the 1st and 2nd Platoons make headway as an allied advancement alongside the South Vietnamese. Close-by Bernhardt at a water-filled crater, DENNIS BUNNING unrolls his cuffs, dips his hand in, cleans his face and stands. Tilting his head, he glances at a neighboring rice paddy where there is a wreckage of a tail fin of a downed airplane. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Hem it in, stop straying up that goddamn side! Lieutenant Calley materializes forward of Bunning. He’s taken aback, issuing an order that the wandering soldiers ignore. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) I'm guessing it went in the first time I spoke! No, nothing for me? Bunning walks at a duo of men, Herbert Carter and Paul Meadlo, while they share the gratification of slitting the throat of a stray Black Water Buffalo. Meadlo cuts the Buffalo’s neck. It drops and its blood sprays and gushes out in a flooded rice paddy where an old “Venus Fly” booby trap remains - a wire to a grenade entwined on a strand of bamboo. MEADLO Man, I just love all that blood. CARTER Ya slaughtered it wrong, technique’s not even right. 30.

MEADLO How so? CARTER If you ax me, it’s hit 'em, stun 'em, don't need any inconveniences from the beast. BUNNING You lot ought t’ be productive! Doesn’t look like V-C to me. CARTER MEADLO What’s productive, Dennis, (To Carter) these days anyhow? I thought it was speaking Vietnamese. MEADLO (CONT’D) (To Bunning) Swore it was swinging a phrase. CARTER BUNNING All that matters, Denny. Attempt at humor, Meadlo? MEADLO Ain’t anyone laughing these days, that’s gone by. Bunning is stunned; facing the men down, he turns away. He shuffles by remnants of another Black Water Buffalo and its newborn calf; it’s hanging attached by an amniotic sac and an umbilical cord. In the pass, Michael Bernhardt approaches it; they share a look as Bunning wanders off. Bernhardt kneels at it and prods it. At the same time, Lieutenant Calley watches, then steps toward him aggressively. LIEUTENANT CALLEY May well be a dry fuse in that dampness -- it’ll take all comers, even yourself Michael. BERNHARDT (Not really listening) What? LIEUTENANT CALLEY ...Bernhardt, when the Viet Cong are falling back, well, they like to dedicate curiosities, daily anew for those of us to fall on and fall because of. So, don’t fucking touch it! 31.

Lieutenant Calley thinks about it all; realizing he doesn't care for his words, he steps away. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) BERNHARDT Move out Bernhardt! (Under breath) Cocksure bastard. Lieutenant Calley strolls on by, revealing the reality that this is not a past conflict zone. Meanwhile, ahead a shriek crescendos like a banshee from the form of a spiraling napalm inferno by a Marine M67 Flame Thrower Tank. DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN (O.S.) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) No... No... No... No... Its streamline napalm exits a turret that is ornately hand- painted like a dragon’s agape jaw. Its flames consume a Vietnamese dwelling, instantly incinerating it. A Vietnamese DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN unchecked, disregarded by the Soldiers, wanders through the aftermath. DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN (CONT’D) Please... five of them were here! There were five men only! Please... The Woman falls from emotion into the muddy filth. She stands, shuffles quickly from the coursing momentum of a Marine M48A3 Patton Tank. Watching as the Tank passes, it tows two naked Vietnamese bodies. DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN (CONT’D) How could you? Please... None are here now! The others, they're gone! Continuing, she proceeds to a crater where submerged to shoulder height are several Black Water Buffalo, quickly escorted by two other Vietnamese DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY MEN. DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN (CONT’D) Monsters... Monsters... Monsters... The Woman calls out to an American atop another Tank that’s stationary; he’s behind a shielded .30 Cal machine gun. Painted on its steel plate is: "GOD FORGIVES I DON'T!". DISTRAUGHT ELDERLY WOMAN (CONT’D) West! They've gone west! Why? Why do you do this? Why? Why? She circles back and fades away among other inhumanities, to the grumbling of a Sgt., ESEQUIEL TORRES. Torres wields a bayonet, piercing it through the hide of a Black Water Buffalo’s remains. 32.

TORRES How we all taking them? Come on now, talk. At his feet DENNIS CONTI, a slick, bullshitting Italian Grenadier & Minesweeper, leans in. Helping skin the Buffalo, he peels back its hide, scoring as if a butcher by trade. CONTI Hold on now, Torres. Torres steps back as Conti chisels out a fillet. CONTI (CONT’D) Shush. I don't need any trouble from you. He throws them to Torres one by one as he cuts them out. Torres places the slabs on an exposed patch of grass. TORRES So how we taking them? CONTI Give me a goddamn second. As insects fly around, Torres brushes them away. TORRES Come on. Rare? Bloody? Out of nowhere the meat is cremated by a careless and impatient ZIPPO SOLDIER’S flamethrower. CONTI So what does that make it? TORRES Fucked. The meat is flaming. Conti extinguishes the flame with his boot’s heel and squares up at the Zippo Soldier. CONTI TORRES (CONT'D) Motherfucking cunt! Backup, Conti. Laughing, the Zippo Soldier nods, then lights a loose cigarette in his mouth with the flamethrower. He goes on ahead, looking back as things calm down, as they portioning the steaks with their knives, and eating the meat as they joke around. TORRES (CONT’D) You’re a violent motherfucker sometimes. You realize that? 33.

CONTI To me, this place is nothing but violent, and my violence just happens to emerge out. TORRES (Could care less) ...Yeah, yeah, ‘cause of circumstances, you know, of what we- all do... CONTI (Posturing) See, when that violence inches into my brain, I never know, but it’s here to stay. Moving on, the Zippo Soldier nods approvingly at a YOUNG SOLDIER who watches their carefree indulgence. The Young Soldier has written in ink on his field helmet the words "WAR IS HELL.” TORRES (O.S.) (Sarcastically, chuckling) Yeah? How does one remedy that? CONTI (O.S.) Kill something. From the Young Soldier’s point-of-view is a hoisted National Liberation Front flag - provocative wording directed at the offensive movements of American forces is painted on the fabric. The Zippo Soldier strides over to it. TORRES (O.S.) (Sarcastically) Made the hairs on my neck stand up. The Zippo Soldier, now at the flagpole, unfastens its ties, lowering the flag. A grenade is rigged at its top. CONTI (O.S.) You think that all this blood helps the crops? TORRES (O.S.) No. No, I don’t Conti... The grenade plummets unknowingly. An explosive hellfire consumes the Zippo Soldier.

EXT. STRATEGIC SUBHAMLET - MEANWHILE The echo of the explosion dwindles further up to an abandoned strategic subhamlet. 34.

The strategic hamlet is situated among staked bamboo, hundreds hewn to a point. Some of the 1st and 2nd Platoons march to a curved pathway weaving through its center. Michael Bernhardt walks along the pathway alongside bound and blindfolded VIETNAMESE MEN and BOYS, all in a crouched restraint position, under-guard by Soldiers. He can’t help but stare at the Vietnamese Men’s disfigurements from past disobedience or warfare. At the furthest vantage point of the subhamlet is a permanent clay and mud structure.

EXT. PERMANENT STRUCTURE - CONTINUOUS At the structural joist of the clay edifice, a Bamboo Pit Viper hangs fixed by a nail through its tail - a V-C trap. SIMPSON (O.S.) Le’me axe you, how the fuck they pin ‘em. I just don't know. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) By the dink’s clicks of a hypnotist’s fingertips. Snapping fingers sound: click, click, click. The Bamboo Pit Viper's form stiffens; it’s irritated and poised to lash out. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) (CONT’D) Listen to its hollerin’. SIMPSON (O.S.) Mm-hm, it’s sprung to strike out. A bayonet knife falls vertically, severing its head, the tail remains nailed to the joist. SIMPSON (O.S.) (CONT’D) Wouldn't want to be the fellow passer-by, meandering in ignorance into it. Lieutenant Brooks goes to it, playfully washing his hands in its blood as if it’s a pump’s spout. He kneels, he looks at its severed head, puts the point of his knife into it, lifts it in front of his face, it's deadened eyes equalling his. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Reminds me...... They do have a cute face, when I see a pretty Vietnamese girl, walkin’, I think two things. (MORE) 35. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT'D) One part wants to be real gentlemen- like and charmin’, and the latter part wonders what her head would look like on my rifle... Meanwhile, members of the 1st Platoon enter the structure, passing Lieutenant Brooks.

INT. PERMANENT STRUCTURE - CONTINUOUS A plague of flies swarm around a prisoner’s shackled corpse, mainly at an 8 cm spike within the skull’s temple. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) ...The devil has the power to assume a pleasin’ shape -- you know, these pretty girls... Don’t forget it...

EXT. PERMANENT STRUCTURE - CONTINUOUS Lieutenant Brooks tastes the Viper’s blood that’s dripping along his wrist, he spits it out. LIEUTENANT BROOKS ...Hmm, it tastes like tin on the back of my mouth. Lieutenant Brooks turns around and heads to other high- ranking officials of Company C who are frantically discussing their route, gesticulating at topographical survey maps. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT’D) Come on. You need to keep at it, Simpson. Simpson follows Lieutenant Brooks a few steps behind. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) ...That’s three deaths, seven wounded of ours now... PLEADING MOTHER (O.S.) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Please... Please... Lieutenant Calley joins Captain Medina, he being the principal authoritative figure. PLEADING MOTHER (O.S.) (CONT'D) ...Why won't you Americans take him? 36.

CAPTAIN MEDINA (To the high ranking officials) And if it ain't by planned contact, we’ll nevertheless meet a resistance at these subhamlets. A Vietnamese PLEADING MOTHER moves in closer, exchanging a gaze of madness, protesting, distracting Captain Medina. He looks to Simpson nearby. PLEADING MOTHER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Will you Americans help... CAPTAIN MEDINA Simpson! Shut this whore’s savage mouth! The Mother's reined-in then by Varnado Simpson. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) Ugh, what in the fuck is she rattling on about -- LIEUTENANT BROOKS (To Lieutenant Calley) Unsure, never did pick up any Vietnamese. Languages for me, it’s like havin’ van Gogh’s ear for music. CAPTAIN MEDINA I don’t care to know anyhow. PLEADING MOTHER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) My baby, help? CAPTAIN MEDINA Simpson! Goddamnit! By a clenched hand if need be! LIEUTENANT BROOKS That contact, Captain, though, it’s by the designated places at this grid? CAPTAIN MEDINA Mm-hm, those several places. LIEUTENANT BROOKS LIEUTENANT CALLEY Alot of ground. Now that's And if they’re still there? aggravating. 37.

Captain Medina throws an abhorrent look at Lieutenant Calley. CAPTAIN MEDINA Falling back does not inevitably mean they’re fucking moronic enough to make a last-stand. (Derisively) Lieutenant, some of us are fucking military minded! I’d have you understand it! LIEUTENANT CALLEY (Changing the subject) ...Gonna be against a heat from the setting sun, if that's the route we take... A threatening quiet. CAPTAIN MEDINA So, walk in the fucking shadows, Calley! (To the high-ranking officials) It'll be the course to hike, time added, granted. If the V-C chance an appearance, they’ll be dealt with accordingly. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Distance or not, what sort of sons of bitches are we huntin’ for if not the enemy. (Quoting) "There is no huntin’ like the huntin’ of man and those who have hunted armed men long enough and liked it, never care for anything else thereafter." Lieutenant Calley leans in over the maps. Lieutenant Brooks rolls his eyes and realizes Calley’s about to get it. LIEUTENANT CALLEY These prairies, it would half the time -- CAPTAIN MEDINA Look Calley, you wet cunt! Listen clear! I will not send us where a sniper can wreak havoc on the men! 38.

LIEUTENANT BROOKS (To Lieutenant Calley) Look Lieutenant, the goatfucks are about -- CAPTAIN MEDINA Pre-fucking-cisely! Aeroscouts sighted those parasites in that pooling cesspit! Lieutenant Calley gives a blank stare. Brooks and Medina continue their sided conversation against him. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) Calley, gooks ain't ignorant and neither am I! LIEUTENANT CALLEY Captain Medina -- CAPTAIN MEDINA Ain't nobody talking to you anyhow! Quit acting like you’re knowledgable on this fucking subject. Fuck! Captain Medina can barely breathe through his rage. Lieutenant Calley sighs silently. LIEUTENANT CALLEY CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT'D) Yessir, Captain Medina. I'll address you so Lieutenant shithead, if the day comes when I’d fucking need to! The arrogance of you, boy! Lieutenant Brooks tries to defuse the tension. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Dinks with scopes were spotted by Aeroscouts... Scouts well, they’re fearless. Hoverin’ low. Fuck, takin’ a flight in those metal fabricated caskets, drawin’ that fire, recordin’ positions. No, no thank you. CAPTAIN MEDINA Mm-hm. Medina nods. 39.

LIEUTENANT BROOKS Present me with a fuckin’ ground dink, goat-fuckin’ sniper any day, you know, then put me in the air. Medina looks at Calley. Lieutenant Calley stands motionless, preparing himself for it. CAPTAIN MEDINA At least it thins cunts out that‘re standing taller -- divine intervention I'd say for some. That some, that they’re still walking living. Don't you think? Next to them, Varnado Simpson and Gary Roschevitz tote a deceased Vietnamese male. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) I'd say so, like you said Captain. Simpson and Roschevitz lay the body parallel alongside others. Turning, they step in front of the Pleading Mother. The Pleading Mother reproaches Simpson, but now within her arms a SICK BOY is cradled. The Boy’s skin tone is pale, it’s a blood infection - there's an unraveled field dressing on his festering foot. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (O.S.) (CONT'D) What was it, three of our tallied, Aeroscouts are at a fifty percent fatality. PLEADING MOTHER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) My baby. Please, my baby. Please. ROSCHEVITZ PLEADING MOTHER (CONT'D) Apologies, darling, I don't Take him and look at it. speak that gook tongue. Help, help me. ROSCHEVITZ PLEADING MOTHER (CONT'D) I can’t understand. Take him and help. Will you (To Simpson) take him? This witch, right Varnardo? Simpson and Roschevitz satirically jest as the Mother still pleads, sobbing. SIMPSON What's she rattling on about now? 40.

ROSCHEVITZ PLEADING MOTHER (To the Pleading (In Vietnamese; Mother) subtitled) I don’t understand you. Medicine, he needs it. Take him. ROSCHEVITZ PLEADING MOTHER (CONT'D) No, no, no. I don’t Take him. Please. Why are understand your words. I you only looking? ...Help... won’t be learning it now either. I’m no tourist. SIMPSON Vietnamese’s only gonna be spoken in hell. In the end. Anyhow. Simpson and Roschevitz make their way from the Pleading Mother, but she still follows, the Boy in her arms. As she nears closer, Simpson steps forward, indicating as if he’ll backhand her. SIMPSON (CONT’D) ROSCHEVITZ Vermin! Get-on back whereat ‘Gone fishing’ -- no help you come from! today. She fumbles with her Boy's limp hand, still gesturing for her child to be admitted too receive treatment. Harry Stanley materializes; he watches from a further distance. STANLEY (To the 2nd Platoon Members) Y’all aware that ain't right! So help that woman! ROSCHEVITZ SIMPSON Were’s the need? None, not Fritter away medical the way that kid’s heading. supplies like that. Why? ROSCHEVITZ Wasn't no bullet. That wound ain't off one of ours. SIMPSON Truth to that. STANLEY Can’t you realize that this isn’t blessedly un-fucked? It’s an innocent boy. Stanley looks at the high-ranked officials in discussion, then at David Mitchell who proceeds toward them. 41.

ROSCHEVITZ I sit and I look at them from nowhere. They stand and they play the game like us -- ain't no innocent lives, just distractions! Tempers flare up between Stanley, Roschevitz and Simpson. SIMPSON ROSCHEVITZ (CONT'D) Not him anyhow. That’s gospel. STANLEY Fuck, how could any of you know that! Soldiers edge at the scene. A trio approach - Dennis Bunning, Leonard Gonzalez, and ROY WOOD, a Virginia rifleman with a clean sense of right and wrong. ROSCHEVITZ SIMPSON Bobby Wilson fucking told us Fuck this slope! from the afterlife. GONZALEZ Fuck, Roschevitz, Simpson! That’s a kid with a name! SIMPSON What's in a name? Behind all of this, Wood warily takes hold of the Boy from the Mother’s arms. PLEADING MOTHER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Thank you... Thank you... Thank you... The Boy stretches out; he’s feverish, aggressively wants to go back to her. The higher-rank officials begin glaring at these goings on, breaking off their discussions. PLEADING MOTHER (CONT’D) GONZALEZ Thank you... Thank you... Child’s sweltering, ain’t no Thank you... color to that boy's leg! ROSCHEVITZ LIEUTENANT BROOKS Can see some on that skin -- What's the woman saying? swarthy like. Yellow nigga. The problem, Gonzalez. Simpson’s uncomfortable by the specificity of the racism. 42.

CAPTAIN MEDINA LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT'D) I don't know, Brooks. Could (To Wood) theorize. Fuck-sake! No, no! No we cannot take that fucking child! Bunning stares in a disagreeing glare, with an argument in mind. BUNNING LIEUTENANT BROOKS (CONT'D) I won’t play into Woods’ Roy, fuck no! hands and lay mine on the young’un. Micheal Bernhardt steps over. BUNNING BERNHARDT Lieutenant, I say we help... Roy, hand me the young lad. ...You know we can offer assistance! Wood hands Bernhardt the Boy. Lieutenant Calley straightens up, abandoning an appearance of control. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Put that child the fuck down! That’s an order! You have to listen to me! Stanley replicates Calley’s aggression. STANLEY Listen to you? Why would he listen to you! LIEUTENANT CALLEY Understand your life is the only one you need to be looking after! Men, stand aside, you included! Bernhardt joins in. The spectators watch it play out. BERNHARDT Well I ain’t got no fuckin’ life. What fuckin' life you prattlin’ on about, fuck!? LIEUTENANT CALLEY What’d you say? BERNHARDT I just got an order to kill a race I’d never gone ‘n gave a shit about, ‘til I was told to. (MORE) 43. BERNHARDT (CONT'D) Most do, well they’re fearin’ the officer more than the opposition! And I ain't afraid of you, boy! Captain Medina seizes a moment to put down the man, whom he does not and would not respect as an authoritative figure. CAPTAIN MEDINA Close up that whorish cunt you call a mouth, Calley! (To Bernhardt) And you Bernhardt, I’ll pour a fucking clip through your fucking thick skull! Else walk empty handed! BERNHARDT Captain, it ain’t right -- CAPTAIN MEDINA Forgetting your place! (To the Platoon Members) No need to find a fucking conscience now! The course of progress never did run smooth! Bernhardt gives up, placing the Boy down on the ground. The Pleading Mother picks him up; she looks slowly up to the sky in reflection. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) (To the Platoon Members) A few hours of light left, so sort this fucking drama out! Captain Medina, full of hatred, locks his gaze on the bound Vietnamese Men and Boys. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) (To Lieutenant Brooks) I believe the only way to reform these people is to mark them up. Lieutenant Brooks nods.

EXT. STRATEGIC SUBHAMLET - LATE DAY The Pleading Mother is cathartic in cradling the Boy - mourning him. A few of those who were previously restrained are now dead. Distinctively, in the bloodied lacerations made by bullets and blades are playing cards - the ace of spades - "The Death Dealers," Company C's calling card. CUT TO BLACK. 44.

FADE IN:

EXT./INT. LONGHOUSE 1, MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - DAWN A traditional longhouse with Vietnamese family inhabitants. DO THI NGUYEN, a 10-year-old girl; a black silk bow ties her hair. She is sleeping beneath a window. Through the window opening, Vietnamese Women can be seen outside, carrying out routine tasks, lighting fires in the dirt yards, feeding livestock of pigs, chickens and ducks, and doing all other cultural Women's chores.

EXT./INT. LONGHOUSE 2, MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Neighboring is another old-world longhouse untouched by the ravages of war. Inside, an 8-year-old boy, DO BA, is sleeping. CUT TO:

EXT. LANDING ZONE DOTTIE - DAWN SUPERIMPOSE: THE DAY OF THE MASSACRE. 16TH MARCH 1968. Dennis Bunning writes on his headgear: "WHERE IS LEE HARVY OSWALT NOW THAT WE REALLY NEED HIM." He’s sitting next to Ronald Haeberle as part of a Chaplain’s congregation, FATHER CRESWELL’S evangelism. Kenneth Hodges is on Heaberle’s other side. Hodges shuffles a deck of cards, taking out the ace of spades. Ronald Haeberle stands up and walks off. Meanwhile, the Platoon’s more than 100 Soldiers wait for transport at a field within the landing zone’s defended perimeter, undertaking final preparations for their assault. Haeberle draws up to Dennis Conti; he’s bleary-eyed from the next to none sleep they all endured. He’s gathering clips of ammunition, grenades, etc. HAEBERLE You’re figuring you’ll what, ply all and every single round into somebody? CONTI What? 45.

HAEBERLE That’s alot of ammunition. CONTI Past may be in the prologue, but past doesn't mean it don’t remain in the decisions, in mine, in the present. Conti jingles a belt of ammunition held atop his jacket. CONTI (CONT’D) A few good men can wait to see if the first shots told ‘em -- but no, we don’t, we just fire twice more. I know then the dink’s been told. HAEBERLE (Derisively) It’s a thorough lesson. CONTI It is. A bullet has served its function when the lesson has been well and truly learned. HAEBERLE (Nods) I’ll see you on the grounds of My Lai. Conti doesn’t give him much more than a look. Haeberle walks over to a PID reporter - JAY ROBERTS. He sees Haeberle’s expression, understands the conversation before it’s begun. HAEBERLE (CONT’D) If it’s not dead and it’s Vietnamese, it’s Viet Cong. ROBERTS They’re working for the world’s biggest brand. Alternative slants of view, well that’s no small thing, Ron. Haeberle tilts his line of sight to a distant V-C skull wedged in the “Y” of a tree’s branches. CUT TO:

EXT. SON MY VILLAGE - 7:22AM HILLER OH-23 RAVEN 46.

Hugh Thompson's Hiller OH-23 Raven scout observes the Son My village as it currently undergoes a barrage of four 105 mm gun artillery, in 120 rounds of preparatory fire lasting three minutes. Two UH-1 Huey Gunship Helicopters, "Sharks," follow Thompson’s Aeroscout for support.

EXT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, SON MY VILLAGE - MEANWHILE Do Thi Nguyen is supporting a pail of water from a well. A sudden vibration of the shelling shocks the earth beneath Do Thi Nguyen. She lets go of the pail and runs.

EXT./INT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI - MEANWHILE PHAN CHOT, a 37-year-old male, is with other Vietnamese Villagers. All have abandoned working the field’s vegetation, fleeing as shells still explode around them. Next to Phan Chot, a FRIGHTENED WOMAN is holding something. She immerses herself shoulder deep in an irrigation conduit’s unsanitary water besides other Families. Phan Chot takes flight on a marl path that leads to Quang Ngai. The shelling zeros in; he pivots back to hide in the lee of a geographical feature, "Elephant Hill."

EXT. SON MY VILLAGE UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTERS Three UH-1D Huey Helicopters, “Slicks,” ferry Charlie Company, Company C, 1st Platoon and a few of the 2nd Platoon. The “Operation First Element” move in a “V” formation toward western Son My, escorted by six Sharks. The UH-1D Huey Helicopters’ blades cut through the bellowing black smoke from the ground; everything below is partially covered in thick smoke, which makes for poor visibility. RADIO TRANSMISSION 1 (V.O.) RADIO TRANSMISSION 2 (V.O.) LZ’s cold. The LZ is cold. ...We’re receiving fire 905. Over. That’s at the yellow smoke... UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTER COCKPIT 47.

RADIO TRANSMISSION 2 (V.O.) ...Marked at 200 meters from the LZ. That’s yellow smoke, 200 meters. Over. The PILOT keeps it steady as the UH-1D Huey Helicopter starts vibrating heavily. He calls out to the cargo hold. RADIO TRANSMISSION 2 (V.O.) PILOT 905. At that yellow smoke Shark’s -- they're receiving that’s automatic weaponry fire! We're landing into a fire. Over. hot LZ! I repeat a hot LZ!

UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTER CARGO HOLD A selection of the ferried 1st Platoon amid smoke from the engine’s exhaust; a few, if any, manage their fear.

EXT./INT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI - 7:30 AM UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTERS The airborne UH-1D Huey Helicopters reduce altitude, throttling the last approach 200 m west at the My Lai hamlet. The Helicopters land on a bone-dry paddy, kicking up clouds of fine dust. The Platoon Squadrons immediately charge out of the doorless cargo holds - all are mad with fear. Robert Maples and JAMES BERGTHOLD, an assistant gunner teamed with Maples, leap from a six-foot height above ground while landing. Maples stumbles under the weight of his machine gun, losing his helmet. Michael Bernhardt disembarks with limited visibility due to the engines exhaust, all to the sound of an animal’s whimpering. The fumes clear, revealing behind a DOOR GUNNER schlepping a mangy Dog over his shoulder - it’s hysterical. The Door Gunner initiates brusque shooting of machine-gun fire. Dennis Conti in Lieutenant Calley’s command group fires down as the final Helicopter drops through the smoke. Those in its cargo hold jump out. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Let’s go! Keep moving, keep moving - - fire when fired upon! 48.

Conti, last to exit, becomes caught in-between the cargos opening by his mine sweeper. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Stay on line. If you receive fire, return it! The secondary LZ, move at it! The final UH-1 Huey Gunship Helicopter touches down. Captain Medina and his command unit exit. Meanwhile, Conti frees himself, leaps out, but with all the smoke drifting around he’s unable to tell which direction the rest of the Squadron has gone. Conti’s startled; he sees a FARMER retreating, directing cattle. He lifts an M-79 grenade launcher, fires off a round at the Farmer - it doesn't reach.

EXT./INT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, NORTHWESTERN MY LAI - 7:40AM HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Hugh Thompson's Hiller OH-23 Raven encircles a division of hamlets forming the Son My village. From a distant perspective, it appears that the UH-1D Huey Helicopters are returning back to LZ Dottie. While swinging back, from Thompson’s Aeroscout's point of view, it is angled at four armed VIET CONG. One is Tuân. THOMPSON (V.O.) (Radio transmission) That's it. I’m totaling the four targets, Warlord 1. East bound, over. The Viet Cong backpedal, fleeing and desperately trying to find cover. They split into two groups of two. THOMPSON (V.O.) Heading them off. Warlord 2, over. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT THOMPSON Colburn? I want to see a weapon first. COLBURN Yes, sited one. THOMPSON Kill them cleanly. Clean shot, Colburn. 49.

Thompson banks left for Colburn’s line of sight; the helicopter skips over the ground at treetop height. COLBURN Engaging. Colburn fires off a few short bursts, not hitting his targets. UH-1 HUEY GUNSHIP HELICOPTERS The two Gunship escorts pursue two of the Viet Cong that fled and are now wading in semiaquatic rice paddies next to a footbridge. The Gunship unleash automatic machine-gunfire; in a split instant, it rips the two Viet Cong apart in a gory haze. The Gunships circle back and drop smoke grenades, marking the two dead targets.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, SOUTHWEST MY LAI Lieutenant Calley and the 1st Platoon lock down a perimeter at the southwestern part of the My Lai hamlet - a landing zone.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, NORTHWEST MY LAI - MEANWHILE Not far away from the 1st Platoon, Lieutenant Brooks leads the 2nd Platoon, mobilizing a perimeter at the northwest edge. INTERCUT BETWEEN 1ST PLATOON AND 2ND PLATOON Both Platoons react in confusion one after another in a deafening chatter of machine-gun fire. Bullets cut down Villagers who are still out in the open. Many Villagers head to neighboring bunkers and bamboo huts. Only a few Villagers are detained. 1ST PLATOON Micheal Bernhardt sprints and slides atop a slick of exploded cattle. Falling, he observes airborne Gunship’s cutting down any Vietnamese spotted. 2ND PLATOON The Frightened Woman and several others submerged in the irrigation conduit, clamber out, taking flight. 50.

The Frightened Woman still obscures something close against her chest as she bolts. After a beat, she drops from a single shot. The Woman’s body is slumped in the mud. Varnado Simpson advances; he squats, uncrossing her arms with the muzzle of his smoldering M16. It’s a newborn baby - the baby’s complexion is half-burnt, half-missing. He stands nauseated. Unhinged, he disengages his M16's safety to then round a bamboo hut’s door. Screams follow.

EXT./INT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI - 7:47 AM UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTERS The “Operation Second Element” returning are the three UH-1D Huey Helicopter’s, ferrying a remainder of the 2nd Platoon and the 3rd Platoon. The Helicopters touchdown at what is a safeguarded secondary landing zone by the 1st and 2nd Platoons. The remainder of the 2nd Platoon and all of the 3rd Platoon jump out for their objectives. LIEUTENANT LACROSS, a fresh young leader of the 3rd Platoon, leaps out of the last Helicopter. CHARLES WEST, a lanky soldier from Chicago, follows alongside JOHN SMAIL. Ronald Haeberle, the last, gets off. He goes into a prone position, capturing a photo of the Helicopter’s take off. Shell casings rain down on Haeberle, dropping down his collar, their heat stinging his skin. Looking up at the Helicopters above, he sees them frantically spray a flood of fusillade ammo to the fringes of the paddies at blurred fleeing figures. At the same time, a SCARED MOTHER at the objective’s horizon is running with a CHILD held in her arms. West, spotting the distant movement of the Mother, becomes startled. He loosely shoots from the hip. As he’s firing, Smail pulls West’s rifle by its barrel low to the ground, screaming: SMAIL You stupid? Grimes’ boy’s a’in that direction! Wanna be responsible for that friendly fire? 51.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, SOUTHWEST MY LAI The 1st Platoon are readying to make their way south into the My Lai hamlet, spreading out in a line formation, three squads abreast. Meanwhile, intense aerial activity continues, as do the motives of a few 1st Platoon stragglers at random hooches. Allen Boyce pulls a 30-year-old woman, TRUONG THI LE, by her jet-black ponytail. She jounces atop trampled bodies to a muddy sludge. As she is dragged, surrounding her left and right are the 1st Platoon. She watches the chaotic passing of Villagers, families fleeing, only then to be constricted by Soldiers as they take position, entrapping and ending the lives of those sighted in the distance. Truong Thi Le is pulled to a standing position, held upright and lined up along with a dozen other VILLAGERS. She freezes, noticing that among the Villagers is her 6-year-old son, DO DING DUNG. She grabs him firmly. Simultaneously, standing sentinel, Soldiers open fire at the Villagers. Truong Thi Le tosses Do Ding Dung down, sheltering him with her body. She shuts her eyes. The impact of spent ammunition blows soil at Truong Thi Le. Bodies fall on her, crushing her and Do Ding Dung. She listens as the rattling gunshots stop; the sound of magazines drop out and ejection of chambers gives way to stilled, gurgling wails. Footsteps proceed. Her eyes stay shut through fear. She lifts her head slightly; it pulls up the flesh-matted hair of the lifeless woman on top of her. Truong Thi Le’s eyes open for a glimpse - only a single Soldier’s feet are visible. The Soldier saunters further afield without hurrying. He points to those face down. Another Soldier out of sight begins shooting those persistently alive all over again. Truong Thi Le drops her head, pressing her face firm into the bloodied filth. The firing stops and footsteps sound again, this time away. 52.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI At a dried up irrigation channel, Captain Medina and his command squadron, including Sgt. MANUEL LOPEZ and Lieutenant LaCross’ 3rd Platoon, take position as a defensive line 150 meters from western My Lai. Scattered about, GI’s are escorting PRISONERS from the 1st and 2nd Platoons to the defensive formation. Twenty meters away at a tree line others have wandered with different motives: An M16 barrel presses the coal-black hair of an OLD WOMAN. There’s a sudden combustion - the Old Woman's features crease at the velocity of the round as it penetrates. The trigger-happy warmonger, WILLIAM DOHERTY, backtracks from the pooling blood. Adjacent, three BLINDFOLDED MOTHERS stand behind their BLINDFOLDED CHILDREN, under-guard of STEVEN GRIMES and MICHAEL TERRY. In front of them is Lieutenant LaCross; he’s randomly firing at the horizon, killing separated, retreating Villagers.

EXT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH Lieutenant Brooks’ 2nd Platoon have entered the north part of the My Lai hamlet. All continuously capture detainees and kill others randomly. Lieutenant Brooks stands urinating, a M16 sits upright, wedged between his feet. Behind Lieutenant Brooks, Soldiers walk about randomly and sparsely, setting off uninhibited quick shooting at FAMILIES praying at a pagoda. The Women and Children drop one by one. Open season. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (To the Families) Y’all should spin ‘round face the children, start followin’ them, listenin’ to them! Smarter than fuckin’ prayer... Meanwhile, Thomas Partsch is stock-still next to Brooks, witnessing the Platoon’s gone mad, hearing Brooks’ radio. Brooks tries it and can’t make contact; it’s full of static. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) (Radio transmission, distorted) (MORE) 53. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) (CONT'D) What the hell’s going on over there? Lieutenant Brooks sees an HYSTERICAL WOMAN being dragged into a hooch. He turns a blind eye. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) (Radio transmission, distorted) Brooks, get your men back on the line and you keep moving! The radio cuts out. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (Under breath) Fuck it. (To the Platoon Members) We need to move faster. Those who want to have their fun, hang back and do their thing while we move through! ROSCHEVITZ (O.S.) Partsch, if a baby comes out all yellow and blue, it spells out it’s retarded? Right? Gary Roschevitz approaches Partsch. PARTSCH What Roschevitz? I don’t know... Lieutenant Brooks chokes off the end drips of piss. As he strides up to Partsch, he lengthens his arm fully, lifts his rifle, and single-handed, fires blindly. ROSCHEVITZ (To Partsch and Lieutenant Brooks) Like I said, slopes got that naturally, half of it, slope yella half, what does that make them? Lieutenant Brooks interrupts the conversation with a lengthy rifle burst. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Back to where you need to be! ROSCHEVITZ Lieutenant, I’m sorry. Varnado Simpson pushes past Roschevitz to then stab a YOUNG WOMAN in the abdomen with his rifled bayonet. Bringing her to the ground, he circles her; he fires a shot into the back of her skull. A bullet shreds through, scalping her. 54.

Lieutenant Brooks trails the fragmented bone and jet-black hair. It lands to the ring of the quick-fire ammunition. Lieutenant Brooks sees the Hysterical Woman crawl naked from the hooch. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (Under breath) They’ve got to get it someplace, might s’well get it ‘ere.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, SOUTHWEST MY LAI Truong Thi Le stands shakily balanced. She pulls Do Ding Dung up; he’s in a state of quiet shock. Both walk atop the Soldier's footprints, treading around the lying dead. There’s women and children everywhere; some have their throats slit, are disembowelled, and completely naked. Truong Thi Le, tearful, stands still. She stares at her son’s bare feet and tears strips off her blouse to wrap them. Finished, they continue wandering. She gazes off, not knowing which direction to take but approaching a crater formed from an explosion. Inside is a mound of bodies. Suddenly, she reacts to the bodies; three of the dead are her brothers. Truong Thi Le’s world is turned upside down. Not far off, she’s distracted by an additional sight. It’s TRUONG THI LE’S DAUGHTER, sitting, dying with her arms wrapped around her deceased grandmother’s limp neck. Truong Thi Le staggers behind her, letting go of Do Ding Dung’s hand, she falls at her knees and hugs her from behind. She looks into Truong Thi Le’s eyes; both cry. Do Ding Dung steps forward. TRUONG THI LE’S DAUGHTER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Mother, I think I am very badly injured, maybe I'll die, I don't think I can survive... TRUONG THI LE’S DAUGHTER TRUONG THI LE (CONT’D) (In Vietnamese; ...You have survived, you subtitled) had better take little My baby daughter... brother away... 55.

TRUONG THI LE’S DAUGHTER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) ...Please, don't stay here, these Americans will shoot you...

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI - 7:58 AM HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson’s Aeroscout arcs above a southern dirt thoroughfare, the 3rd Platoon still guides an influx of Prisoners from the 1st and 2nd Platoons behind the defensive formation.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI - MEANWHILE CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) (Radioing) Downed 15 Viet Cong...... Add those to the count. In front of the dried up irrigation channel 50 Vietnamese Prisoners are now standing - only a few able-bodied among them, predominantly Women and Children. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) (CONT’D) I’ve 300 to 500 Vietnamese heading south, south -- southwest, en route to Quang Ngai city. Over. Captain Medina signals. All Prisoners stop, some squat. Captain Medina stands listening; hearing automatic fire and explosions from within My Lai, he glances upward at Thompson’s Aeroscout as it flies above in a sweeping pass. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) Stand them up!

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - 8:00 AM The 1st Platoon, three squads abreast, tread through a semiaquatic paddy into My Lai. Forgoing actions prelude an all-out assault; chaos and confusion rein. Olsen’s alarmed; he sees a ELDER fleeing a traditional bamboo hut. Lenny Lagunoy feeds a belt of ammo to his M-60. Olsen fires off a dozen rounds at the Elder - he escapes. The M-60 jams, at the moment Olsen contemplates his intentions. 56.

Lagunoy grabs the M-60. Taking it, he cocks it, freeing the obstruction. He fires at the targeted Elder. Simultaneously, all around Olsen, Soldiers yell into simplistic dwellings. People come out, gesturing hand signals as they appear; others with no answer warrant a grenade. Olsen, burdened with a conscience, won’t fire at the Vietnamese, but just plays the part using a pistol in the killing of chickens. Behind the assault, Lieutenant Calley’s squadron trails a few yards as Villagers are presented for screening. There’s a group of 25 DETAINEES under Paul Meadlo‘s guard. Two of the Detainees, PHAM THI THUAM, a 30-year-old widow and her 6-year old DAUGHTER are sitting. They gaze at the horizon at Thompson’s Aeroscout as it flies low. Pham Thi Thuam looks back down below at a toe-up boot gritting as it stops. It’s Lieutenant Calley's. Lieutenant Calley strolls with David Mitchell, frequently glancing at the Detainees, who are eluding his line of sight. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Oh, that distraction, I do see it. I do. It shows your fear. His look lingers directly at them. He shakes his head, grimacing. At the same time, Dennis Conti of the squadron taps his minesweeper slung at his shoulder while gesturing to an ELDERLY DETAINEE. CONTI LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) (Annunciates, points at (To the Detainees) Lieutenant Calley) The only reason you’re on Close at hand to him! Needs your knees and I’m out here that sweeper! standing is because there’s more of my kind than yours. Unharnessing it, Conti places it at the Elderly Detainee’s shoulder. He then hastily walks away, passing Olsen. Close to Olsen are squad members Roy Wood and Harry Stanley. Stanley and Wood are standing with their backs facing the front of a hut. Both are taken by surprise as a SKINNY WOMAN exits. Shaken-up, Wood pivots while firing. 57.

The bullets graze the Woman’s hip, and she falls on her back. STANLEY Hold it! It’s a woman! Wood stops firing. Stanley and Wood go to the Skinny Woman to stand her up. They observe that something is cradled in her arms. They’re cautious; stepping back, they aim their rifles, but they hear wailing - it’s a NEWBORN. STANLEY (CONT’D) WOOD God-fucking-damn-it, Roy! Fuck, fuck, fuck... Stanley and Wood check the baby, concerned they’ve shot it mistakenly. As they do, the Woman fearfully and painfully tries to put her hands in the air while still supporting the Newborn, stuttering as she begs for her life. Two other SCRAWNY CHILDREN emerge from behind the Woman. STANLEY Roy, go get the woman some medical assistance! Meanwhile, Olsen takes stock of the Villagers, as they’re continuously chaperoned to Lieutenant Calley’s position, noting how most are old men, women, children, and babies within their arms. Olsen shocked, sluggishly recedes from the goings on. A few yards away, Olsen’s faced with a Cow that is trying to stand on a dismembered and shredded leg. He puts it down, spraying several bullets into its side.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH Minutes after entering My Lai, separate squads become broken down into numerous groups of Soldiers; ones and twos occasionally cross paths and intermingle as they zigzag by dint of the hamlet’s dirt paths. Villagers still offer no resistance; a few place their hands together as if to bow in a greeting only to be clubbed with rifles. Allen Boyce is directing a MIDDLE-AGED FARMER; he draws behind his friend Harry Stanley, who is unjamming his rifle. BOYCE C'mon Har’, I look at you, standin’ ‘bout, resemblin' a stiff. (MORE) 58. BOYCE (CONT'D) As if I'd put one in you -- be productive. The Farmer’s black pajamas hang loosely. Stanley rips it open to inspect his waist and chest. Satisfied, he changes direction, proceeding inside a bamboo hut. Boyce shifts the Farmer along a dirt trail out of sight. Suddenly and for no reason, he stabs the Farmer in his back with his rifled bayonet. The Farmer falls to the ground; before he can gasp for air, he’s scythed down by the bayonet. Boyce heads over to Stanley again. Stanley now exits the bamboo hut with a MALE DETAINEE. BOYCE (CONT’D) I’ll walk this one to the screening position. (Stutters) Go get another c-chink! STANLEY (Grinning) Stutter much? STANLEY (CONT’D) BOYCE Boyce, you mean dink? Fuck off Harry, it’s the rush. Boyce grabs the Male Detainee off of Stanley. BOYCE (CONT’D) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Come here, come here! (To Stanley) Anyhow, chink or dink, rice is rice. Boyce ushers the Detainee upward to Lieutenant Calley’s whereabouts. BOYCE (CONT’D) Chop, chop. While walking the terrain, it changes into a slick of mud. Boyce’s boots and the Detainee’s bare feet sink. Frustrated, he swerves from the filth.

EXT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH STONE WELL 59.

Robert Maples wanders across on a sanguinary marl to a shadow cast by an incendiary explosion. All around are remainders of livestock. One of the goats is still alive with its legs blown off; it persistently drags itself. Ahead is the Male Detainee. The Detainee is reined in by Allen Boyce, leading him as if guiding an equestrian’s snaffle bridle, but he is grasping him by his partly cut throat. In his other hand is his bayonet. Maples witnesses this, hearing part of a one-sided conversation. BOYCE MALE DETAINEE Ain’t gonna hear it all if (Muffled by blood. In you keep interruptin’... Vietnamese; subtitled) ...There was actually a No no no no no no... sexual thrill... Bumping along, the Male Detainee is pulled to an erected stone well. BOYCE ...I took the throat of a woman, from finger to thumb, I grabbed her throat, like yourself, took the breath from her while she stared at ‘nother girl... BOYCE (CONT’D) MALE DETAINEE ...When I stabbed into her, (Muffled by blood. In you heard a little squelch. Vietnamese; subtitled) And I cut in deep with my No no no no no no... knife. And I held it their... BOYCE She just urinated right there. Imagine, you’re looking into their eyes. A person in that situation is God. Held then by his blood-soaked garments, the Male Detainee is released inwardly to its blackness. BOYCE (CONT’D) (Thinking out loud) That’ll get me off sometime. Boyce sadistically whistles while dropping an M26 grenade down the well. An eruption of red water sprays from the explosion. 60.

He heads a few yards away inward of My Lai, noticing that a person’s been watching him. It’s not Maples but Varnado Simpson. BOYCE (CONT’D) Had to obey orders and that’s how you gotta do it. Boyce passes Simpson before he can answer. Simpson moseys up to the stone well. Before arriving, he sees that Maples is glaring directly at him - judging. BOYCE (O.S.) (CONT’D) (Shouting) The next pretty lookin’ bitch I see, she’s goin’ t’ die!

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH The Vietnamese flee throughout to a chatter from machine gunfire. The psyched up 1st Platoon force the Villagers further inwards, leaving mounting bodies in their wake, taking a few captives in a chain reaction of chaos and confusion. Greg Olsen is wandering, disengaged from the goings on. He slows, stares at a slice of grassland to Dennis Conti and a female TEENAGER. She’s on her knees in an involuntary performance of oral sex while he directs the barrel of a firearm against a 4-year-old CHILD’s head. CONTI Teeth...... Wider, wider girl... Conti forces his penis deep, it falls out, sways as she tries to back away. CONTI (CONT’D) (Laughing) ...Girly y’ ever had ‘t pick teeth off of grass with broken fingers? At the same time, the Child’s lower pants are wet from urine. Lieutenant Calley happens to walk along mid way. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Oi, Conti stop sharpening your knife on that stone! 61.

CONTI LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) Shit, oh fuck! Fucking pull up that waistband and get to where you’re supposed to be! Conti climaxes almost from the interruption. He fixes his pants to his waist, his flaccid phallus still dangling. As Lieutenant Calley strolls off, Conti does his pants up, saunters round, and cuts off the Teenager's ponytail. He spins it, underarms it up in the air, he catches it. Stepping back, he puts it underneath the rear of his helmet. Nearby, Olsen’s still moving as if with a purpose. He passes Families huddled together for safety, only to be mowed down by automatic fire or blown apart by fragmentation grenades. He goes by a traditional bamboo dwelling. MAPLES (O.S.) Stanley, that pal of yours Boyce, he’s gone crazy! Robert Maples exits the bamboo dwelling. MAPLES (CONT'D) STANLEY (O.S.) You’ve been told, it’s Boy, here! Hey, 'til out ignorance over awareness! there quietens down...

INT. TRADITIONAL DWELLING - CONTINUOUS Inside, Harry Stanley crosses an INJURED BOY’S forearms. STANLEY ...Until all Americans move through, you stay! Okay? Stanley lets go of the Boy. He crawls over and into a semi hidden crude tunnel at the bamboo hut’s foundation. Stanley hesitantly goes outside.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Stanley, after a few steps along a guardrail, faces up and scans the landscape’s manifesting atrocities. The 1st Platoon sluggishly recede down the built-up center of the hamlet, cued by anything Vietnamese - shouting, wielding automatic rifles. A dozen yards inward, Stanley encounters Esequiel Torres, heading into a naive open bamboo shelter 62.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) La Croix, is it necessary, all that?

INT. OPEN BAMBOO SHELTER - CONTINUOUS There’s a FATALLY INJURED WOMAN and a FRIGHTENED OLD MAN. He’s close to incapacitated by trepidation while bracing the Fatally Injured Woman. TORRES LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) V-C? V-C? Torturing and tethering that bitch as if she’s to be a prisoner, why? FRIGHTENED OLD MAN LA CROIX (O.S.) No V-C! No V-C! What Lieutenant? Can’t hear you over the fire!

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Stanley from the outside then notices that in the furthermost corner of the shelter there are three INFANT CHILDREN. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Why torture the wounded bitch? LA CROIX (O.S.) Was distracted, her screams, it’s like a symphony, an opera, hah. Stanley distracted, glances toward Lieutenant Calley. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Well, slice the neck and let another’s music play on! Calley’s engrossed by a line up of preadolescent Villager’s safeguarded through the hamlet by Michael Bernhardt. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Don't waste time. Stand those slopes at that wall and, boy, you put ‘em down! Suddenly, shots clash at the open bamboo shelter, splintering the Fatally Injured Woman's skull. Stanley turns, too, witnessing the aftermath as Torres executes the family. 63.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Fucking don’t let it end with a whimper, end it with a bang! Stanley’s shocked, he drags himself elsewhere from the mayhem but still passes bodies shot at point-blank range. As he leaves, a few Soldiers of the 2nd platoon cross paths with the left flank, intermingling firstly with Roy Wood as he guides a FARMHAND. Half a dozen then witness Gary Roschevitz as he makes a surprise grab for Wood’s M-16. Wood fights it. ROSCHEVITZ Trade you my M-79! ROSCHEVITZ (CONT’D) WOOD (Looking at the Piss off and get the fuck Farmhand) away from me! Don't gift ‘em to the company! ROSCHEVITZ WOOD (CONT'D) ...Why would Mad Dog grant I said fuck off, didn’t I you a good sword and no use now! for it! ROSCHEVITZ Kill them! There’s a stand off. Roschevitz leaves Wood, as he laughs, brushing it all off. Roschevitz revolves at Varnado Simpson, taking grip of his M- 16 instead. Simpson offers no resistance. ROSCHEVITZ (CONT’D) (To Wood) A sword, it’s a tool that rusts if it isn’t put to regular use. Roschevitz shoots the Farmhand in the arm, practically severing it. The Farmhand screaming, raises his hands in the air - a fragile piece of flesh hangs down with half of his arm. FARMHAND (Continuously throughout) No V-C! No V-C! No V-C! Roy Wood all but vomits. At the same time, Roschevitz makes a move on two PEASANTS under-guard, spraying bullets in their chests. Roschevitz turns to Simpson and presses the M- 16 into his arms. 64.

EXT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH STONE WELL Echoing rifle bursts dwindle further up the flatlands to Ronald Haeberle. Hearing it, it distracts him as he walks beside the erected stone well. Haeberle stops, unhitches his buttoned collar, and cocks his head in. Inside the yawning darkness is the Vietnamese Male's corpse. Haeberle captures a photo of the corpse with his own mirrored refection in the water.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - 8:30 AM CHARLES SLEDGE, a radiotelephone operator, is laved in blood by a splash-back diluted from a quagmire underfoot. As he empties a sidearms magazine at dotted about corpses, a radio message is received simultaneously. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (Radio transmission) Sledge! Killed them once, no “Coyote 6”...... 84 enemy design in it killing them kills, I’ve got that twice. confirmed Colonel... BARKER (V.O.) (Radio transmission) Relaying the additional 69 K.I.A. to the T.O.C. As Lieutenant Calley strides toward Sledge, he trips on a slick of blood-colored filth. He stands himself up, grabbing at Sledge’s backpack. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) CHARLES SLEDGE (Radio transmission) My apologies, Lieutenant. ...2 V-C K.I.A, north of My Lai. Recovering arms...... 3rd Platoon’s in the vicinity... Lieutenant Calley snags hold of the radiotelephone. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) (Radio transmission) Calley! What’s happening over there? Why is the advance taking so fucking long? 65.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (Radioing) Large groups of civilians, they’re slowing us down. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) (Radio transmission) Lieutenant shithead, then you get rid of them! Lieutenant Calley under pressure looks at those nearest. He approaches Michael Bernhardt offering an intense ultimatum. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Didn’t I order you to stand those slopes at that wall and put ‘em down! BERNHARDT I won’t -- LIEUTENANT CALLEY You’re already branded one of us! Look around! BERNHARDT Like I said -- LIEUTENANT CALLEY And you’re standing among, among my soldiers, as if you’re not! Staging defiance, for what? There’s a stand off for a split moment. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) ...A quiet individual, yes you are, motives I don’t know of or care to understand! BERNHARDT Well, fuck it. Understand I'll not take part in these inhumanities! Lieutenant Calley steps closer, as if ready for a brawl. BERNHARDT (CONT’D) Be very careful Lieutenant. LIEUTENANT CALLEY You fucking walk on! BERNHARDT LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) No. It ain't for convenience I say it! 66.

BERNHARDT LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) These people are young -- I’ll put one in you. innocent. BERNHARDT Fuck you. Lieutenant Calley looks as if he’s ready to act on impulse. Other GI’s, Herbert Carter and Dennis Conti, trek close to the tensions. BERNHARDT (CONT’D) LIEUTENANT CALLEY Sensitive Calley, aren't ya? Ignorant cunt! LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) ...A trigger’s only thing 'ere sensitive, boy! Those fucking delicate, innocent fucking young’uns you’re standing for... Lieutenant Calley unholster’s a pistol, gesturing with it while speaking. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) ...Le'me reason, their fingertips can grasp at a fucking sidearm, a rifle, operate it as any fucking other gook nigga! He aims the firearm in the direction of the Villagers. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Man, woman, young or fucking old! BERNHARDT God have mercy on you Calley. LIEUTENANT CALLEY God? You think he’d care about these? No! They’re not Christians; their unprotected souls are fair game! BERNHARDT LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) I am as brief as I am firm, Young, it does not spell I won't. I will not fucking innocent! Lieutenant! BERNHARDT I won't, Calley! Lieutenant Calley’s spitting words of rage; he holsters the sidearm. Paul Meadlo walks to the Villagers lined up at the wall, watching over them. 67.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (To Carter and Conti) Take this fucking coward to the rice paddies! Bernhardt distracts himself from Lieutenant Calley’s rage, glancing 30 yards away at a Villager wandering - Phan Chot. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) ...He can manage the women held there! Far out on the left flank! My fucking hatred for him grows... Phan Chot’s hiding in plain sight, he steps to the entryway of his family home, which is ablaze. PHAN CHOT (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Hai! Hai my daughter! Hai!

EXT. PHAN CHOT’S FAMILY HOME - CONTINUOUS LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) ...This 'ere men, it’s a campaign! And rules, they’re set! And ‘cause of that his mouthful of disputing, fucking words, it bears fuck all relevance but them rifles you’re clinging to, their chambered rounds -- Phan Chot straightens his head, taking a deep look into the flames. The smoke restricts his eyesight; it’s blinding. He takes steps backward, scraping his foot at what are charred remnants of people he may know. He appears mournful to this sight.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Phan Chot grievingly meanders without direction at another trail, still hiding in plain sight as he traces the path of Lawrence La Croix and Paul Meadlo; their midway into a conversation. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) LA CROIX She's twitching still -- put ...She moaned. Her moaning another in her throat! was beautiful. But, truth be told, I favored the crying. 68.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) MEADLO Make sure we ain't checkin' Mm-hm. Yeah -- pulses. That’s why we carry extra ammo! LA CROIX It’s when I hear that little pop and whip their tiny head off and hold their head up by that thick jet-black hair -- they tend to have that...... Their body’s just sitting there and -- Meadlo airs an awkwardness but almost in a light-hearted way. LA CROIX (CONT’D) What? Hey, it wasn’t as dark and scary as it sounds. I had a lot of fun. Phan Chot veers off on a different dirt track that leads to the periphery and into the darkness of another traditional hut. MEADLO (O.S.) Well, well, I guess killing somebody’s a funny experience...

INT. TRADITIONAL HUT - CONTINUOUS Kenneth Hodges is arching the back of a YOUTHFUL WOMAN. On top and between her deceased kin, he’s savagely shafting her.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Outside, Phan Chot takes it in and passes David Mitchell leaning on a window, watching the rape. Phan Chot stands at a mud wall. Ahead, obscured by trees is a MIDDLE-AGED FATHER under fire, running, cradling an INFANT as Soldiers shoot, purposely aiming close to his feet, directing him. Unexpectedly, a bullet shatters his shin, grounding him. It was from a now participating Lawrence La Croix. He stands limping, frustrated, weeping, still trying to protect the Infant. The playful shooting continues. Shrapnel clinks over Phan Chot’s head. He doesn’t flinch at all as he’s overtaken by a fleeing OLD WOMAN. 69.

The Old Woman is in great discomfort as there is an unexploded M79 shell lodged in her abdomen. She is running past a traditional longhouse that is raked with bullet holes. She slows at it but continues past its doorway. Inside:

INT. TRADITIONAL LONGHOUSE - CONTINUOUS Robert Maples and James Bergthold stumble upon three PETRIFIED CHILDREN hidden behind a bed and a PITIFUL WOMAN with a fatal flesh wound in her side and a DISMEMBERED OLD MAN with his legs blown away. Bergthold, six feet away, mercifully lifts a .45 pistol. He shoots the Old Man in the head. The top of his head pings back, hitting the wall - the Children screech. Maples is shocked. Bergthold frowns at Maples. Maples sidesteps around and protectively shepherds the Children outside.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS Shepherding the Children, Maples escorts them to the other Detainees; approximately 30 are being held under-guard at another “screening” position by Paul Meadlo, who returns at the wall. Dennis Conti also returns. Lieutenant Calley edges toward him in a quick pass, pointing at the Detainees. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Take care of them! CONTI Okay.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH Platoons still overlap, intermingling presently at a semiaquatic rice paddy as they systematically march inwards to the hamlet’s northern subset. Twenty-five meters through a treeline, in a clearing at a hooch, Leonard Gonzalez ushers Phan Chot; he’s weeping and moaning while they edge behind 15 FEMALE VILLAGERS held by eight Soldiers. 70.

TORRES (O.S.) ...If anybody is behind, y’all take cover, or feed the dirt... Gonzalez moves himself and Phan Chot from their line of sight. The Soldiers begin executing the 15 Female Villagers; it’s slow as not all fire immediately. One of the 15, a SMALL CHILD in a CRYING WOMAN’S arms, has his skull blown into her chest, killing her. Gonzalez vomits at the sight of it on the back of Phan Chot’s shirt, unable to watch the rest of the 15 fall dead. ROSCHEVITZ (O.S.) Tally up the V-C fuckers and let’s move out! The eight Soldiers wander in the direction of an affluent household. Leonard Gonzalez reluctantly escorts Phan Chot behind, inquisitively passing the proceeding atrocities: SERIES OF SHOTS Varnado Simpson is clutching a pair of mangy Phu Quoc mutts by the scruff of their necks. The Phu Quoc mutts yelp as they are hurled into a hut that’s ablaze. At an overhang of an edifice, Gary Roschevitz physically rousts three WOMEN, undressing them, as close by three MEN squat naked in the restraint position. The Women refuse his sexual designs; Roschevitz vexed ends them with three surgical pistol shots to their foreheads. Gonzalez and Phan Chot step away from Roschevitz. Roschevitz finishes changing direction, breaks a door down, and heads inside a home. Simpson follows soon after. Gonzalez continues on to another Vietnamese home. Built like kindling, a fire is seeping through its seams. Gonzalez backtracks from its heat to where he came. PHAN CHOT GONZALEZ (In Vietnamese; What? Don't. Keep quiet. subtitled) I beg, my baby daughter! I beg, my baby daughter! Gonzalez, shocked by the scene, walks away. Phan Chot faces him down, protesting. 71.

PHAN CHOT GONZALEZ (CONT'D) (In Vietnamese; Quiet, goddamn it! subtitled) My daughter! My daughter! Gonzalez is overtaken by other Vietnamese fleeing, WOMEN and CHILDREN; one of the Women is completely nude. She stops by her MOTHER, who he approaches. GONZALEZ (CONT’D) (To the Mother) Mama-san? Please get her some pants. Gonzalez is distracted. Phan Chot takes advantage and runs off. Gonzalez does not pursue. BUNNING (O.S.) ...Simply put, I won't take part in the executions of civilians... At the same time, Lieutenant Brooks is angered by Dennis Bunning. His hand sheathes around Bunning's windpipe like a noose. Thomas Partsch stands watching. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Even if it’s not my Platoon there’s still a hierarchy of command -- it’s for a fuckin’ purpose! BUNNING (Choking) No matter your consequences, I will not take part! Gonzalez slows again at a WOUNDED GIRL sitting on a bamboo wall, 12 years old, bathed in blood, wounded in the chest. Weapon to the side, he kneels and pulls her close. He unscrews the lid of his canteen and pours its water on her bloodied forehead. GRENADIER (O.S.) I got you! Hey, I can fuckin’ see you lot! You come on out, now! Gonzalez signals for her to drink; she fearfully refuses. GRENADIER (O.S.) (CONT’D) GONZALEZ (In Vietnamese; Water. Drink. subtitled) Go! Go, go quickly! Gonzalez holds her firm with compassion; he caresses her hair. She tries to leave, squirming aggressively. 72.

GRENADIER (O.S.) GONZALEZ (CONT'D) No? Staying put, huh? I’m sorry. He lets her go and moves on, arriving close to a GRENADIER who is standing at the entrance of a bunker. As he passes, he reads a sentence on his helmet: "I LEND DIGNITY TO CHARLIE'S DEATH." Gonzalez hears people responding in the bunker - complying. GRENADIER Fuck it! (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Stop! Stop! Varnado Simpson advances, compelling six additional FEMALE VILLAGERS inside. GRENADIER (CONT’D) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Step back! Back! The Grenadier rolls in a grenade. GRENADIER (CONT’D) Stand clear! Fire in the hole! A flare-up of detritus from the blast is unleashed. Persistent harrowing screams follow. Simpson enters, ending the screams with aromatic fire. Simultaneously, the bamboo wall that the Wounded Girl is sitting on splinters from distant machine gunfire. Gonzalez looks across at Dennis Bunning showing the selfsame regrets. He walks over to him, and both go off on their own patrol, passing a bestial and grotesque aftermath of naked corpses dotted all. The Grenadier leaves the smoldering bunker and walks to the affluent house.

EXT./INT. AFFLUENT HOUSEHOLD - CONTINUOUS VERANDAH An empty household veranda overlooks bamboo greenery and My Lai as it burns. COURTYARD At an underlay of tunnels to the household’s foundation, PHAM THI TRINE, a girl, 10-years-old, and her MOTHER are dragged out by the Grenadier. 73.

All around, the 2nd Platoon are running berserk. The Grenadier stands Pham Thi Trine and her Mother at a household wall. At the same time, other Soldiers arrive from the rear of the property. They’re rounding up the rest of Pham Thi Trine’s family. In a livestock pen with three Buffalo, a grenade explosion is suddenly unleashed, the shrapnel shredding the animals. Gary Roschevitz assists with putting Pham Thi Trine’s family into the pen. Thomas Partsch saunters by the Grenadier; they share a look. GRENADIER F.Y.I., there’s a good one down that length of dirt. (Points down a trail) And everyone’s havin’ turns. Brooks was even holdin’ a place in the line with everyone else. Partsch doesn’t know what to say. He’s not taking part, subtly won’t, see’s Lieutenant Brooks has lost control. Meanwhile, Pham Thi Trine and her Mother still stand at the wall, watching as Lieutenant Brooks strolls by hand signaling the Soldiers to execute the family. The Soldiers open up with automatic machine gunfire. Pham Thi Trine fearfully dashes back into the household midway through the execution; the Americans are unaware. The Mother follows at a further distance behind, but the Grenadier pursues.

EXT./INT. AFFLUENT HOUSEHOLD UPSTAIRS BEDROOM Minutes passed; at an upstairs bedroom, Pham Thi Trine hears a sound: progressively, the sound manifests. It's her sister, MUI, calling outside, repeating a chorus of begging no, no, no please (In Vietnamese). Pham Thi Trine peeks from a low window ledge. COURTYARD Esequiel Torres is hanging a FRAIL OLD MAN who has a bandaged leg. 74.

Close at hand, Mui lays naked on the coppery ground of spent ammunition, challenging and failing in fending off being raped by a PRIVATE. The Private climaxes; he pulls out and wipes his penis on her dress. He gets up, looks at his penis - there’s blood. He spits in his hand and cleans the head. He pulls up his bloodstained pants and looks around for a moment. The moment ends as he unholsters his sidearm and shoots Mui; her face is completely blown away. Esequiel Torres has finished lynching the Frail Old Man. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM Pham Thi Trine, tearful, frightened, rushes out to the hallway and into a different bedroom. UPSTAIRS BEDROOM #2 Pham Thi Trine drifts toward a baroque-patterned armoire, splintered ajar by shooting. Opening it fully, she stops still, beholding her Grandmother's body slumped inside, her vagina ripped open by a bayonet. Pham Thi Trine treads small steps outside onto the verandah. VERANDAH Sitting on the verandah is her Mother, who is supporting her seven-month BABY SON in one hand and applying pressure to a gaping trauma on her own side with the other. Pham Thi Trine kneels at her Mother’s feet. A deadened breath passes as she lifts her head: MOTHER (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Run away and hide, so you can live...... As for me, I think I am going to die...... I can't live much longer... Pham Thi Trine heeds her Mother's command and heads downstairs. DOWNSTAIRS MOTHER (O.S.) (CONT'D) My daughter! They are burning the house, my daughter! She scampers, looking about vacant rooms at family members’ remains. 75.

MOTHER (O.S) (CONT'D) The house is on fire! They are burning the house! She searches every face. It's overwhelming; she's alone. PHAM THI TRINE (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Mama... She hollers back only a word. MOTHER (O.S) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Run!

EXT./INT. AFFLUENT HOUSEHOLD Minutes passed; the affluent household burns. COURTYARD The lynched Frail Old Man with the bandaged leg sways, but now with an ace of spades carved into his chest.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - 8:45 HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Thompson’s Aeroscout soars above a cultivated outstretch south of My Lai. ANDORETTOA Got a body here, a woman. Yeah, she’s requiring assistance, Hugh. From Andorettoa’s angle, in the distance below, a WOUNDED WOMAN lays facedown in a bloody heap. She makes a small motion. THOMPSON I’ll circle back. Thompson, from his cockpit’s vantage point, directs his helicopter at a body bobbing in a semiaquatic paddy; it’s a SLOW-MOVING WOMAN toting wicker baskets. She appears to be dragging herself forward, wounded. THOMPSON (CONT’D) An additional body, at my angle, possibly wounded. 76.

ANDORETTOA I’m looking at it. Colburn, what you got? COLBURN I don't have anything for you, Andorettoa. Wait. THOMPSON Alright, y’all let me know when you spot ‘em -- COLBURN ...Hold it, twosome wounded, 50 yards off my side. ANDORETTOA Those ones, it’s all fucked up. Thompson glances at the fuel gauge. It’s low, he prioritizes, pilots back to those needing assistance - the Wounded Woman. Reaching her, he hovers above for a moment. THOMPSON Glenn, mark 'em for some assistance. ANDORETTOA What are we going to do ‘bout all these? THOMPSON Mark 'em, Glenn. That'll be it for now. We’re refueling at Dottie. Andorettoa pulls the pin and clasp off a yellow smoke grenade. He lets go of the grenade through the opening in the fuselage. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN The Hiller OH-23 Raven retains a low altitude, trailing a dirt road at the southern part of the hamlet. THOMPSON (V.O.) (Radio transmission) ...South of My Lai 4, err, positions clear cut and marked by yellow smoke, eight or nine I loosely tally, villagers, medical assistance is required...

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, WESTERN MY LAI With radiotelephone in hand, Frederick Widmer approaches Captain Medina. He listens. 77.

COLONEL BARKER (V.O.) (Radio transmission, distortion) ...Eight or nine dinks with web gear... Retrieve...... Yellow smoke has it marked. Retrieve... It cuts out. Meanwhile, the 3rd Platoon guarding the Detainees in the defensive formation is getting ready to move through My Lai; only a few remain with the Detainees. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) Fucking radios. A Zippo squad makes preparations with their flamethrowers. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) (CONT’D) You and you, with me. There’s knife work needs doing... Captain Medina and a few Soldier’s head out to procure V-C equipment by Barker's miscommunication. CAPTAIN MEDINA (CONT’D) ...Military didn’t issue you that and had no use for it in mind. In the distance, Michael Bernhardt is wandering in a semiaquatic paddy. Medina sees him, signals him over.

EXT. AGRICULTURAL LANDS, NORTHWESTERN MY LAI Steven Grimes follows the line of the irrigation conduit, which runs around Son My. A few other Soldier’s trail far behind. Grimes crosses over a rice paddy’s bamboo footbridge. In a clump of foliage, he finds an M-1 rifle. Fifty yards away, Lieutenant Brooks comes upon two Viet Cong killed by the gunships. He kneels by them; both are in their early twenties. Neither of them are Tuân. One carried an American backpack, pistol belt and ammo pouch, the other an M-1 rifle and another carbine. Both corpses have been forced across mud and shredded by machine gunfire. Lieutenant Brooks picks up the mud-filled M-1 rifle and unloads it. 78.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH Dennis Conti drops a backpack and runs toward a 4-year-old LITTLE GIRL, who is fleeing a hooch. The Little Girl escapes. Conti, out of breath, stops. He looks to his left and sees a dead Woman who’s been scalped and sodomized. Next to her is a YOUNGER WOMAN holding a BAWLING BABY. Conti stands them up. He sees blood between her thighs. He shifts them toward the other Detainees at the “screening” position, now deeper into the hamlet, where they are stood in a shallow roadside ditch. He passes Soldiers as they finish up, filtering through homesteads, detaining able-bodied survivors, and putting to grass the wounded as the progressive advancement within the hamlet draws to an end. ROADSIDE DITCH South at a dirt road, Conti puts the Younger Woman and Baby with the other Detainees under Paul Meadlo’s guard. Among the squatting Detainees are 10 men, 10 women and other elderly and children, all of whom can hardly walk. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Fuck, they’re drawing breath? On our fucking oxygen and for what? Lieutenant Calley and Charles Sledge proceed forward; Calley’s toting a bandolier of ammo around his shoulder. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Conti! I thought I told you to take care of them! Lieutenant Calley is washed over with rage. MEADLO LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT'D) We are, we’re watching over No. No! No, I want them ‘em? killed. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Come here! We’ll get in line and fire into them! Conti and Meadlo look at each other and back off. MEADLO Lieutenant. There’re women, children in that ditch. 79.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY If I was Captain Medina I wouldn’t have to give an order twice! MEADLO Lieutenant -- LIEUTENANT CALLEY Those whores in there, their cunts bore more sons faster than we're able to manufacture the lead needed to put them down! CONTI MEADLO Sons, Lieutenant? Paranoia... LIEUTENANT CALLEY Their prospective fighting men -- men that’ll come at us, Conti! Lieutenant Calley walks up to the Detainees and pushes them back. Others then heed the action, stepping back into the roadside ditch. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) And paranoia, Meadlo, it’s just total fucking awareness! Conti and Meadlo follow Lieutenant Calley to the ditch. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Come here... Come on, we’ll line them up; we’ll kill them! (To Meadlo) Fire when I say fire! Lieutenant Calley, facing the ditch from 10 feet away, opens up, firing in a spraying motion. In a hazy mist of gore, Vietnamese heads are blown from their necks, limbs from their sockets. Ripped apart, they fall one by one. Pure carnage proceeds as Meadlo and Conti take part, although reluctantly. After a beat, the three Soldiers reload; half of the Detainees are still standing, screaming, shouting, mercifully pleading.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH IRRIGATION CHANNEL North at the 1st Platoon’s previous screening position, Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter squat with the 60 Detainees. 80.

All are stood up and then moved by Soldiers into the agricultural clearing to a partially dug irrigation channel.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH Four Soldiers meet and subjugate six PEASANT WOMEN, lining them opposite an L-shaped house. Ronald Haeberle meanders within earshot of the four Soldiers’ proud conversation - the four being Varnado Simpson, Gary Roschevitz, William Doherty, and Michael Terry. ROSCHEVITZ (To Doherty and Terry) How are you boys feeling? DOHERTY Relaxed. ROSCHEVITZ (Chuckling) How come? DOHERTY Well, when I kill, when I finally pull that trigger, all those tensions, it vanishes. ROSCHEVITZ I get it, all that hatred... But only for a short time it does. TERRY It’s a bloody way of unwinding -- Roschevitz misses the point. ROSCHEVITZ Yeah, I’d switched from stabbing to strangling, ‘cause I too was dog- tired of getting blood on myself. Haeberle lifts his non-issue camera, focusing it as Roschevitz gropes a BALDING WOMAN. She put her hands in the air, sobbing as a NAKED BOY’S face presses into her chest. ROSCHEVITZ (CONT’D) V-C whore? V-C boom? Yeah? Roschevitz begins kicking the Woman violently. A team leader with Vietnamese speaking ability, RONALD GRZESIK, rushes over, calming the situation. The Balding Woman huddles the Boy behind her skirt while buttoning her blouse. 81.

Haeberle lifts his head up at Thompson’s Hiller OH-23 Raven soaring on the distant horizon. Grzesik makes his way ahead of everyone. The four Soldiers become aware of the army photographer as he photographs the scene. SIMPSON Watch out; 'ere comes the cameraman. Haeberle strolls past 20 yards away. All of a sudden, there’s a crisscrossed spray of automatic fire. Turning, he sees a tracer round strike the Naked Boy’s bare bottom, killing him instantly. After the Women and Children fall dead, an OLD MAN walks close by through the brush, toting belongings and shepherding a BOY of 8 and another BOY of 4. The Old Man, relinquishing his belongings, raises his hand as a greeting of neutrality, begging and praying subsequent to a yielding an answer: a volley of machine gunfire. The Old Man is felled by chest and head traumas. The 8-year-old leaps, shielding the already wounded younger sibling. Another shot follows, entering his spine and ending the preventative attempt. Haeberle’s anguished by what he witnesses. The shell casings’ rat-a-tap signals that end. The four Soldiers casually stride over each body, adept at crushing down any semblance of empathy. Haeberle, in a state of fear, lifts up his camera and captures a photo. Afterwards, the 4-year-old Boy stands up; he’s missing a foot from the gunfire. He hobbles, curls up, leaning on his dead brother’s shoulder. Holding up his inanimate fingers, they slump down as he lets go. Haeberle raises the camera another time. A short burst from an M16 thunders behind next to Haeberle. The Boy is flung from the frame by the volley of fire. Haeberle’s ears ring; he looks behind. Behind is the Young Soldier who bore the deed. Still with "WAR IS HELL" on his helmet but now with a line struck through “HELL” and above is “WAR” - “WAR IS WAR.” 82.

They share a look.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH - CONTINUOUS Meanwhile, the four Soldiers now trek deeper into the My Lai Hamlet. Roschevitz edges off, hearing and observing atrocities fulfilling the commitment to "kill everything.” Thundering firing, shrieks of sexual abuse, and squealing livestock can be heard. The whole place is littered with bodies now as the 3rd Platoon takes part. He heads toward several of the 3rd Platoon’s ZIPPO SQUAD. They commence reducing the bamboo huts and hooches to cinders with flamethrowers, simultaneously incinerating the crops. Other Platoon Members help the flames swell by feeding them with miscellaneous objects. Roschevitz passes an inferno that ingests the remnants of the Vietnamese dead. Nearby, Doherty stands mesmerized by their gradual blistering from the severe temperatures. SIMPSON (O.S) If you don't follow a direct order you can be shot yourself. Now what am I supposed to do? Hearing a sharp bang, Doherty turns and observes Simpson as he puts down a Villager; after cutting out his tongue, it hangs in Simpson’s hand. Doherty, unfazed, walks a couple of feet, witnessing a lone BURNT WOMAN - she inhales and exhales. Near death, her flesh is charred so symmetrically perfectly that it mirrors an unburned complexion. Terry approaches, seedily checking out her unburned and blackened breasts that hang through burnt away garments. DOHERTY Here, give me a hand, Mike. Doherty and Terry go to pick up the carcass of a goat. They then pollute a well by throwing it in.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH ROADSIDE DITCH 83.

At the roadside ditch, the shooting ceases. A few Children small of stature remain visibly alive, standing up, only because their Mothers threw there own bodies on top of theirs. Tears flood down Paul Meadlo’s cheeks as he attempts to give up his rifle to Dennis Conti, but he pushes the rifle back. MEADLO CONTI Here... You shoot them! No... If they are going to be killed let him do it! Conti looks at the Children, he begins to well up. They can’t finish. Simultaneously, Lieutenant Calley finishes in killing the Children. The sound of Calley’s empty magazines hitting the ground signals the end. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Let’s go.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, MARKED POSITIONS - 9:00 AM HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson’s Aeroscout flies fast, returning from refueling. Straight ahead is the formerly marked wounded.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, MARKED POSITIONS - MEANWHILE Fred Widmer stands with Captain Medina in the paddies as he fires at the Slow-Moving Woman; she’s toting wicker baskets. Michael Bernhardt sits in reflection by an irrigation gully, witnessing the Woman’s head as it’s blown away from her shoulders. Captain Medina steps up, searches a basket - it’s full of medical supplies. Almost out of nowhere, a 5-year old DISMEMBERED BOY with a shot-off hand walks as if dead to Widmer. Widmer queasily lifts his M16 and kills the Boy. CAPTAIN MEDINA (O.S.) Widmer, it was a mercy! 84.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, MARKED POSITIONS - CONTINUOUS HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Hugh Thompson sees a few GI’S loom over those marked as requiring assistance; he makes out that one guy has Captain’s bars on his helmet.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, MARKED POSITIONS - CONTINUOUS Thompson's Hiller OH-23 Raven circles low as Captain Medina’s hand wraps a depleted yellow-smoke grenade. He lets it fall loose and turns his head to face the command unit lead by Manuel Lopez. The unit’s wet by blood and looming at those previously marked. HIGH GUNSHIP (V.O.) (Radio transmission) You have wounded over where the bubble is hovering. Captain Medina treads toward the marked Wounded Woman. The Hiller OH-23 Raven floats low, 10 yards away for approximately 60 seconds. Captain Medina, unfazed, approaches the Wounded Woman, who is now writhing in pain, more so from fear. CAPTAIN MEDINA (To Lopez) I’m in all probability the most dangerous man in the world, as it stands, no? He prods her. LOPEZ (O.S.) Yeah. If you wanted to be... She gestures with her limp hand and by lifting her head slightly for help. CAPTAIN MEDINA ...It’s practical, I’d never wanted to be anything but me. Captain Medina responds by booting her face. He then immediately unloads a spray of bullets to the back of her slumped head, blood and flesh shower the ground. He strides through the scramble of bodily bits, avoiding them. 85.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH, MARKED POSITIONS - CONTINUOUS HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT THOMPSON Motherfucker! You son of a fucking bitch! ANDORETTOA She weren’t no danger to nobody! Thompson, angered, becomes aware of the latter; that all the identified wounded are at present slaughtered. THOMPSON That son-of-a-goddamn-bitch. Y’all what'm I lookin’ at here? COLBURN Not all were fatally wounded... ANDORETTOA Maybe a kinda, kind of mercy? THOMPSON Mercy would've been assistance that’d I’d fucking radioed for! ANDORETTOA Maybe not all’er blameless, perhaps you know... THOMPSON Witnessed what I had, Andorettoa! All were unnecessarily put down! ANDORETTOA I had done, Hugh. Forgive it, fuck, I’m attempting to make sense of it. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson’s Aeroscout flies fast from the scene.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH Lieutenant Calley’s sitting down, reflecting and almost showing guilt. LIEUTENANT CALLEY No. I won't shed a fucking tear... He looks at Paul Meadlo, who’s wandering about, face flushed with tears. 86.

LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Meadlo, we’ve got another job to do. IRRIGATION CHANNEL Further afield of Calley the 60 Detainees are standing at an irrigation channel. Some are sitting inside in the shade of the channel. About 10 men guard them all. INTERCUT ABOVE AND BELOW THE IRRIGATION CHANNEL In the channel, Babies are crying in their Mothers’ arms, some crawl around in the shade. Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter also sit there. ABOVE JAMES DURSI, a heavy-set Irish-Italian from Brooklyn, is with a BUDDHIST MONK dressed in white robes; he’s praying over an ILL ELDERLY WOMAN; she’s laying on a narrow wooden platform for carrying market-wares. Close by, Dennis Conti talks to Charles Hall. HALL You’ve been crying? CONTI (Changing the subject) ...Capezza’s gonna have had exhausted his supply of antibiotics by day’s end. HALL That’s a lot of mindless acts of pleasure. It’s a bit pointless... CONTI ...Seen a lot worse today. HALL Like, how worse? CONTI Like, I’d seen today a grenadier become a double vet’. I’m yet to be a double veteran. HALL Conti, what’d that mean? CONTI GI slang for the honor of raping a woman and then murdering her. Ain’t gone done it together. (Chuckling) (MORE) 87. CONTI (CONT'D) Though Calley caught me cock out and pants down... Conti from chuckling starts then crying, he’s unable to reflect and continue his side of the conversation. Meanwhile, Ronald Grzeik and Harry Stanley - two of those guarding - walk over to question the Buddhist Monk. The Monk is bowing and crying, trying to get them to understand. GRZEIK STANLEY (In Vietnamese; (In Vietnamese; subtitled) subtitled) Where have the North Where were the weapons? Vietnamese gone? Where were the NVA? A 2-year-old INFANT crawls upwards from the ditch. Dursi watches horrified as Lieutenant Calley grabs the Infant and throws it back down. DURSI What the fuck! Hey, Lieutenant! BUDDHIST MONK GRZEIK (In Vietnamese) (Translates in English There are or were no North simultaneously) Vietnamese soldiers in the There are or were no North village. There were no Vietnamese soldiers in the weapons. village. There were no weapons. Lieutenant Calley vexed approaches the Buddhist; he slams the Buddhist in the mouth with the butt of his rifle. The other villagers plead for the holy man’s life. Lieutenant Calley grabs him, drags him around, hurls him into a semiaquatic paddy, lifts his rifle, and shoots him dead. The Ill Elderly Woman, grieving, tries to stand. Calley turns and shoots the top of her head off. The men that guard them all just watch in disbelief. More Vietnamese are chaperoned to the scene. David Mitchell ushers two YOUNG CHILDREN under each arm. Another SMALL BOY with a prominent birthmark on his face treads at the heals of the Children, lugging a harnessed SIBLING on his back. Behind, Lieutenant Calley indicates to Paul Meadlo and Allen Boyce to begin pushing the Detainees into the channel. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Move them all into that channel! BELOW 88.

At the channel’s edge, a SICKLY WOMAN is struck in the face by Lieutenant Calley’s stock. She falls unconscious at Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter’s feet. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Stop standing and looking at me, that’s an order! Do it! ABOVE Other Soldiers join in, shoving them down the steep slope. Some Vietnamese jump in, others sit at the edge moaning and weeping, and begging, only to be forced in - it’s a pitiful sight. BELOW Progressively, the Sickly Woman becomes gorged by an intake of waterlogged bracken matter. ABOVE Herbert Carter’s kneeling beside Dursi, quietly amusing the two Young Children. Mitchell approaches and forces them in. Robert Maples is tending to the Skinny Woman’s hip wound. She still holds her Newborn; Lieutenant Calley grabs her and puts her in the channel. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) Robert, load your machine gun... MAPLES To what end are you proposing, Lieutenant? LIEUTENANT CALLEY To shoot these people, Maples! MAPLES (Shakes head) Lieutenant, I’m not going to do that. (Subtly) It’s sinful. Please I’ll -- LIEUTENANT CALLEY The fuck are you anyway, Maples, a priest among us soldiers? Lieutenant Calley turns to a forcefulness, reacting against Robert Maples insubordination. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) All we ever did amounted to killing. And as much as we could. (MORE) 89. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) And if we weren't doing that, we was leading up to it. And if we weren't leading up to it, we was doing that...... So you get ready to shoot these people, Maples! Harry Stanley intervenes. STANLEY Lieutenant that, it’s murder! LIEUTENANT CALLEY If I started murdering people, there'd be none of them left! This, it’s just progress Stanley! Lieutenant Calley responds by pressing the barrel of his M16 rifle against Maples’ breastbone. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) I'll shoot you for disobeying an order! A direct fucking order! MAPLES Lieutenant, sir -- LIEUTENANT CALLEY It’s unusual how a people like these Vietnamese get respect only with the prospect of their death. (To the Platoon Members) None of you’ve provided them any in life. Now you’ll follow my order! Stanley begins to address Lieutenant Calley in an actionable mannerism, poised to condemn. STANLEY ...Talking ‘bout cutting short all that life -- I wasn't brought up that way! To be killing no women and children! LIEUTENANT CALLEY Children? Vietnamese! STANLEY Young’uns that've only drawn breath to an air of conflict, nothing else, you bastard... Lieutenant Calley alter’s his M16's motive, redirecting it against Stanley's abdomen. LIEUTENANT CALLEY You’ll follow my directive, Stanley! 90.

STANLEY Fuck that -- and fuck you, Calley! A’int gonna do it! Stanley's pistol counters as an ultimatum, pressing into Calley’s rib cage. LIEUTENANT CALLEY I’m not fucking bluffing! STANLEY Neither am I. We all gonna die here anyway. It’s a keyed up stand-off. STANLEY (CONT’D) I just as soon go out right here and now, but I ain't killing no women and children. Their eyes intensify. Lieutenant Calley eventually backs down, leaning on others. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Move aside! Can fucking watch... BELOW The Sickly Woman’s asphyxiating; she vomits what she swallowed, freeing herself slightly to breath. ABOVE The squad leaders, David Mitchell, Kenneth Hodges, Lawrence La Croix, and Esequiel Torres, direct the Soldiers to stand in a line at the channel’s precipice, preparing to fire - most refuse. Only Lieutenant Calley, the squad leaders, Conti and Meadlo, stand in a line. The others walk from the scene, in disbelief anything will happen. Robert Maples hangs back for a moment. BELOW LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Maples, you patrol that fucking rice paddy! Additional Vietnamese in an obligatory consequence are forced to join those already detained in the channel. Some trample the Sickly Woman, who is now dead from asphyxiation, barely visible underneath a slurry of filth. 91.

Pham Thi Thuam fights for a foothold with her Daughter. The Daughter’s eyes are fixated on an OLDER WOMAN. In clear anxiety, she stands in her own excrement. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) (CONT’D) Let the grass grow through ‘em. Open fire! Suddenly, a tremendous ring of machine gunfire repeats, which crescendos as others find their triggers. The Detainees drop one by one during this excessive executional shooting. Others hide behind one another as hundreds of pieces of flesh and bone shower within the channel. ABOVE Torres ceases firing, unable to continue with the bloodshed. Lieutenant Calley takes his M60 machine gun and uses it. The Skinny Woman's features can be seen over the ditch, met only by Lieutenant Calley's bullets; her jawbone leaves its joint. BELOW Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter lay hiding below the piling dead. Pham Thi Thuam shuffles her Daughter, sliding her under her stomach. The Daughter is tormented, crying. PHAM THI THUAM (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Quiet. Shh... Bodies painfully weigh them down. Pham Thi Thuam fans out her fingers, pressing them over her Daughter's mouth. PHAM THI THUAM (CONT’D) Don't cry please. Quiet now and pretend to be dead. The sounds of magazines dropping coincide with the beat of bodies dropping; bullets kick up earth and blood. Pham Thi Thuam fearfully deafened stares at those next to her, all dead with collapsed features from smoldering bullet wounds. Pham Thi Thuam then looks straight ahead at faint motions of the Small Boy; he’s no longer supporting a harnessed Sibling but now cradles his own intestines like dirty washing. ABOVE 92.

William Doherty and Michael Terry in the distance wander around the irrigation channel as the fire slows, stopping. More protesting Villagers are forced on top of those fatally maimed; all are terrified, pleading, begging for their own lives and their Children's as they fall down the channel slope. LIEUTENANT CALLEY (O.S.) Y’all get yourself fucking ready, ready to unleash fucking fire!

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH Captain Medina and the command group walk deeper into My Lai, arriving at the roadside ditch. ROADSIDE DITCH They stop, looking at the scattered corpses, seeing the pile of 30. Captain Medina doesn’t like what he sees. Fred Widmer and Herbert Carter wander further afield. They are greeted by a HELPLESS KID; his arm dangles, hanging by a bullet wound. Widmer wells up but manages to conceal it. WIDMER Let me borrow your pistol now, Carter... Carter unholsters his pistol, hands it over. Widmer reluctantly aims the pistol at the Kid. WIDMER (CONT’D) I’m sorry kiddo... Widmer fires a single shot, but the bullet doesn’t kill. The Kid walks four steps before falling. Widmer walks over to him; wanting to put a final bullet in his head, he pulls the trigger. The pistol jams. WIDMER (CONT’D) (Distraught) Carter, fuck! The damn thing’s jammed. The Kid’s close to death; he dies moments later. Widmer hands Carter back his pistol. Carter tries to clear the pistol, pulls the barrel back. He accidentally fires a shot off into his foot. He screams. 93.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - 9:15 AM INTERCUT BELOW AND ABOVE THE IRRIGATION CHANNEL The few Vietnamese left persevere in ascending the channels claret slick, crawling on top of deceased kin, dying themselves in the attempt. At the bottom of the channel a JUVENILE GIRL is drowning in a shallow ravine of intestines and blood. In a moment of freedom, she looks upward, she meets Paul Meadlo’s deadpan leer. A grenade is then rolled in beside her, with an eruption of blasts following. The execution ends. ABOVE Lieutenant Calley and the 1st Platoon start striding alongside the channel’s carnage; a few stop, sitting and contemplating their actions. Meanwhile, as he trails the channel, David Mitchell stares at the sky as Hugh Thompson’s Hiller OH-23 Raven circles. Neighboring Mitchell now is Kenneth Hodges, who has questions. HODGES Where did Lieutenant Calley and those lackeys of his stray off to? Mitchell’s lost in his own thoughts, but he’s comfortable with that, grinning sadistically. MITCHELL ...Sometimes it’s hard to believe a human being can do what I’ve done. HODGES Thought Calley, thought he'd not be stepping out this far -- stay at the sidelines with those other timid dregs, hey Mitch? MITCHELL He’s always wanting to out-do Medina, to prove. Mitchell’s scraping his bloodstained palms; the dripping tips of his index and forefinger then rudely enter Hodges’ pocket, unveiling two cigarettes. 94.

HODGES What's happening now? What should I do? The two bloodied cigarette butt ends are pressed between Mitchell’s teeth. He continues speaking with them in his mouth. MITCHELL I hear it fluttering your vocals -- words are wanting... MITCHELL (CONT’D) HODGES ...What is it you want? Didn’t mean to stutter. HODGES (CONT’D) ...Want to fulfill a due sentiment I share with Mad dog -- “kill everything.” MITCHELL I get it. Stakes opportune here for it, being that us, we’re able to breach that division, getting furthermore even. He lights both cigarettes from the heat on the barrel from the operational usage of his M16. Embers take and abate. MITCHELL (CONT’D) Closing that gap, ending that feeling we’re carrying. He blows on the ends of the cigarettes. MITCHELL (CONT’D) Who said revenge leads to a man’s downfall. Hodges misses Mitchell’s point. HODGES (Chuckles) Fucking, sex that’s my downfall... MITCHELL Gotta take care of whatever’s in your pants. Mitchell’s unable to light the cigarettes. MITCHELL (CONT’D) Cigarettes are as wet as Calley's legs, his in-between parts, huh. Hodges lends a hand with a light from his Zippo lighter. 95.

MITCHELL (CONT’D) HODGES Too moist, it’s the blood. Here, she’ll be glowing bright. The cigarettes burn eventually. Mitchell snatches the Zippo, reads the engraving on its chrome, "35 KILLS... IF YOU ARE RECOVERING MY BODY, FUCK YOU." MITCHELL Hmm, cute. Hodges continues with the missed point. HODGES ...I fuck any way I can get it. If I have to force somebody to do it, I do... I fuck them... Mitchell hits the spot smoking; delivering a cigarette to Hodges’ agape jaw, he returns the Zippo lighter to his palm. MITCHELL (Earnestly) Doing your country proud. BELOW At the precipice of the channel is William Doherty and Michael Terry. Both jump down within to put down any living Vietnamese. Both put down a couple of fatally wounded Vietnamese. As he strolls, Doherty watches Terry as he gleefully clasps a hand conjoined and entangled in a dressed carcass. Disentangling it almost is a head, shoulder and arm, attached by anatomies’ tendons. Terry smiles at him.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COKPIT Skipping over reflective semiaquatic vegetation, the crew observe the unimaginable. The 60 Villagers of various ages massacred and piled in a dried up irrigation channel - it is a mass grave. COLBURN THOMPSON It can't be, civilians? God forgive, I will not. 96.

COLBURN But boss... ANDORETTOA ...How, there’s small shapes, women and children. The crew witness a detail of GI’s standing nearby, but no firefight is taking place. COLBURN ...That’s our lot, down standing at it, among it, boss. Colburn doesn't want to look, tilts his head away. THOMPSON We were fucking momentarily absent - - ANDORETTOA It’s a killing spree. THOMPSON Wait. That conceivably could be from artillery. COLBURN ANDORETTOA Ordnance? Wrong place, wrong time? THOMPSON U.S. Soldiers wouldn't commend that down there. ANDORETTOA What're you getting at, Hugh? What’s the cusp of it? THOMPSON Possibilities, it’s that all were killed by a misfire, gathered, placed in that ditch. ANDORETTOA Hugh, but think of the unthinkable - - THOMPSON These are families! They wouldn't have been...... Tell me y’all, would they’ve been systematically marched into that’er ditch? All to be executed! COLBURN What've we just seen? What about that woman? (MORE) 97. COLBURN (CONT'D) For that soldier, too...... Ah, what in fucking hell -- ANDORETTOA Hell’s empty and the fucking devil’s down there! Thompson sits with it, blinks intensely. He angrily radios the other gunships airborne about the prairie. THOMPSON (Radioing High Gunship) Y'all, there's bodies everywhere. What is this? There's a ditch full of bodies that we saw... It looks to me like there's an awful lot of unnecessary killing going on down there. It ain't sitting right, not this... HILLER OH-23 RAVEN The Hiller OH-23 Raven soars at a verdant landscape; its green landscape is punctuated by black dots of inanimate dead cattle; in between, on a small dirt track is a 70-year- old WOMAN hunched in a fetal position. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT THOMPSON (CONT’D) You got that one? ANDORETTOA Didn’t see any movement, I don’t think. THOMPSON Mm-hm. Gonna do a fleeting sweep to land. ANDORETTOA What did you see, Hugh? Nothing? THOMPSON Hold on. Making my way to her. COLBURN We'd better get on over before someone else does. They won't quit before us. THOMPSON Goddamn it! You know we should have set her down when we saw that woman writhing in pain, before that fucking Captain made his appearance! 98.

ANDORETTOA Marked the gal, sentenced her. Thompson pilots the chopper low at ground level, checking on the 70-year-old Woman. COLBURN (To the Woman) Stay put! Stay down, real low for a minute! Thompson and Colburn anxiously realize something. THOMPSON What the hell? COLBURN Damn. Boss, did someone shoot her? Colburn cranes his neck once more for good measure. COLBURN (CONT’D) Put'er down real close. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson hovers a few feet above the Woman. She’s laid on a darkened silhouette of matted blood, wearing a conical head- wear that’s unraveled, revealing brain matter. COLBURN (O.S.) (CONT’D) Yeah, yes, she's gone alight... Someone’s capped a bullet in her skull! THOMPSON (O.S.) Fuck! We've seen enough! HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT THOMPSON (CONT’D) More than enough! It's just all-out mayhem! Thompson retains altitude and scouts the surrounding hamlets; he contemplates the aforementioned. THOMPSON (CONT’D) ...I ain’t uncertain about them men down on the soil -- a few could not swear to all and every detail, but certainly some can give me an opportunity to accept it or not. 99.

COLBURN Yeah, you're 100%, Hugh. They must know what's going on down there. They’re not at our elevated P.O.V.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson’s Aeroscout is above the irrigation channel. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Thompson sees the stockpiled deceased; he’s mesmerized by the sheer number of hundreds dead, at least five bodies deep, others dead outside around the edges. He notes movements, people still alive. THOMPSON I got y’all and nobody else. I'll tell you where my minds headed -- fuck it, it’s at... I can't continue the pass. I will not. Thompson commences an unsanctioned landing maneuver, and the crew realize this. THOMPSON (CONT’D) So, I'll ask and you boys will give an answer, gonna be your sworn word if it’s yes. Boys, with me? ANDORETTOA It's just goddamned beyond everything I thought I'd see...... Set her down Hugh. COLBURN I want perspective, whether they know it or not. I gotta know boss. Colburn’s fingers dab readily at his M60's trigger. Thompson and Andorettoa are more tensed up. Thompson sets the Aeroscout down. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN David Mitchell and Kenneth Hodges are in close proximity as they approach. Landed, the motor still running, Thompson leaps from the cockpit. He identifies Mitchell as a Sgt., shouts at him to counter the engine’s noise. Both his counterparts remain in vigilant attendance. 100.

THOMPSON Sergeant! MITCHELL Ought to be above now, not down on our plain beside the men. THOMPSON My neck’s at risk either way sergeant. HODGES But for what? Lieutenant Calley as an onlooker advances. Thompson sees this. THOMPSON What's going on here, Lieutenant? LIEUTENANT CALLEY I'm sorry, pilot, but this is my business. Meaning it’s none of yours because I’m in charge of the ground troops here. THOMPSON (Looks at the irrigation channel) What is this? Who are these people? LIEUTENANT CALLEY Don’t need to concern yourself with that. It’s just the company following orders. THOMPSON Whose orders? No answer. THOMPSON (CONT’D) That silence don't hardly fucking say much. What the fuck do y’all call that sorta killing? LIEUTENANT CALLEY Call it fucking progress! THOMPSON These are human beings, unarmed civilians, Lieutenant! All that, it's beyond everything I'd expect to see above! 101.

HODGES Yellas don't bare the same rights as us -- us being men do, but what of them, if the gooks fucking did! THOMPSON (To Hodges) I ain't querying fucking law and our accordance, or fucking conduct for that matter. LIEUTENANT CALLEY What then? THOMPSON Maybe just questioning if your men have a fucking conscience, Lieutenant? Lieutenant Calley makes an aggressive move toward Thompson but slows as he becomes aware of Colburn. LIEUTENANT CALLEY Like I said, shouldn't concern yourself! Especially taking a trip to ground level! This is my show! THOMPSON Yeah, great job! LIEUTENANT CALLEY You better fucking get back in that chopper. Mind your own business! LIEUTENANT CALLEY (CONT’D) THOMPSON Get back to drawing out fire Lunatics leading the fucking while the men -- while we asylum. end it. Lieutenant Calley walks away from it all. LIEUTENANT CALLEY I'm sorry we couldn't be of help. THOMPSON You ain't heard the last of this Lieutenant! (To Mitchell, washed with rage) Help them! Goddamn it! MITCHELL Who...? 102.

THOMPSON Sergeant, I saw there's some wounded in there! Small goddamn shapes crawling... THOMPSON (CONT’D) Jesus Christ, they’re suffering! HODGES ...Yeah, think Christ had his fair share... THOMPSON Those people need help! Y'all could help them out! MITCHELL Yeah, we can help 'em out... We can put 'em out of their misery. THOMPSON Sergeant, how do you defend words like that! Where’s your empathy? Their dying? HODGES Precisely, already got their ticket to where they’re going, being half dead an’ all. MITCHELL There wasn't ever gonna be anything alive left within this village. So, like I said, only way I can help 'em, only way is to cease that misery. HODGES Like-minded. Just a proper thing to do, finish that lot off quick. MITCHELL Well, unless there’s a chance of ‘em pulling through, then there’s leeway for it to be slower, Hodges. (To Thompson) Information’s valuable to them who’ve got a reason to require it. Hugh Thompson, frustrated, enraged, moves back within the Aeroscout's cockpit. MITCHELL (O.S.) (CONT’D) We’ve got places to be Hodges. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT 103.

The Hiller OH-23 Raven Aeroscout takes off, hovering 15 feet above. Mitchell is spitefully walking along the channel and begins to randomly shoot at the piled bodies. ANDORETTOA Fuck! Taking some half-wild shots at the ditch! THOMPSON You've got to be fucking kidding!

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH - 9:45 AM HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT The Hiller OH-23 Raven Aeroscout simultaneously drones above Lieutenant LaCross's 3rd Platoon; they’re passing through the hamlet. THOMPSON Define insanity: y'all, we do the same, expecting a different result. ANDORETTOA What can we do to stop the momentum of an entire company? Thompson distinguishes the living from the lifeless, tailing down three SCAMPERING WOMEN, their fates all at once changed by the need to stay alive as eight Soldiers pursue. ANDORETTOA (CONT’D) COLBURN Companies on a murderous It's started. rampage. ANDORETTOA Dead people, every age. Fuck, ashamed I am. Colburn sees what Thompson sees. COLBURN Boss? THOMPSON First rule: pilots don’t live long if they take foolish chances...... We're goin' in. COLBURN ANDORETTOA We're with you, boss. Let’s do it. 104.

THOMPSON If these bastards open up on me, or these people, you open up on them! Promise me. COLBURN ANDORETTOA Got it boss. Consider it done. Thompson at a lower altitude transmits a radio message to the UH-1D Huey Helicopter Gunships. THOMPSON (Radio transmission) I'm setting her down. Would appreciate some help. Not gonna let these soldiers kill any more of these people. Can’t talk directly with ‘em without being on the ground. Thompson begins to land. THOMPSON (CONT’D) It’s just a fucking massacre, please come down, help these civilians in these GIs’ crosshairs. Because if these fuckers open fire, well, my machine gunner’s gonna turn his gun on the Americans, cutting ‘em down. I'm just telling you, help if you can. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN The three Women rush through overgrown bracken; they move quickly, finding safety in an underground shelter. At the same time, Thompson's landing maneuver’s proximity to the Soldiers is just above their heads - not decapitating them but affirming a motive - scaring them. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Once landed, Thompson fleetingly gazes nervously at Colburn and Andorettoa. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Hugh Thompson gets out, taking only his side arm in its holster. Determined in step, he flips up his visor, looks to one of the men - it's Lieutenant Brooks. He takes a deep breath: THOMPSON (CONT’D) Hey! Listen! Hold your fire! 105.

There’s no response over the engine’s noise, only eyes staring. LIEUTENANT BROOKS THOMPSON (CONT'D) (To the Platoon Im goin' to try to get these Members) people out of the bunker! Fuck did he say? Thompson, now further from the chopper’s rotors, is able to speak more clearly. LIEUTENANT BROOKS THOMPSON (CONT'D) I'd say...... That's a Just hold your squadron damned order...... Orders here! Or help... from a lower ranked official. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (To Thompson) Mm-hm. Yeah, well yeah, we can help you get 'em out of that bunker with a hand grenade. THOMPSON I can do better than that, Lieutenant. Just hold your men here. Lieutenant Brooks’ joviality disappears in the background, contemplating the aftermath as he observes the M60 in Larry Colburn's hand pointed in his direction. LIEUTENANT BROOKS (To the Platoon Members, jesting) Persistent man dressed in a pilot’s uniform makes me weak in the knees, gentlemen. After laughter, Lieutenant Brooks’ mood changes to anger. Gary Roschevitz recognizes the behavior. ROSCHEVITZ These pieces-of-shit have 30 ticks to get out! We'll be in otherwise! THOMPSON (To Colburn) They fire upon me or them, y'all shoot them! (To Lieutenant Brooks) I and my men are prepared to share in their death, Lieutenant. Been told. LIEUTENANT BROOKS Good to know. May well have to. 106.

THOMPSON Stay put, Lieutenant. Thompson approaches, seeing those within the small opening of the bunker:

INT./EXT. BUNKER CONTINUOUS Thompson’s faced by an OLD HUSBAND and OLD WIFE pleading for their lives. He then sees the whites of a small 6-year-old SMALL GIRL’S eyes; she’s clenching the Old Wife's leg. THOMPSON Hello. INTERCUT OUTSIDE AND INSIDE THE BUNKER Larry Colburn's finger apprehensively twitches across his trigger. Lieutenant Brooks assumes a more non-threatening posture. As he does, his entourage loosen up, laying their weapons to the ground. All are lighting cigarettes and thin cigars, menacingly looking on, not worried; there’s an arrogance to it. One Soldier, Thomas Partsch, unfurls a looted traditional tattoo kit, as the Grenadier sits shirtless in front, ready. INSIDE BUNKER THOMPSON (CONT’D) Y'all, come with me. Come on, follow me. You're in a tight one... Thompson gestures while talking to the Vietnamese. HUGH THOMPSON Now. Please can y'all come with me. OUTSIDE BUNKER Colburn's forehead is dripping sweat, fidgety as he becomes blinded, incessantly blinking. He stares at Hugh Thompson as he backs away from the bunker’s entry. THOMPSON I'm goin' to get y'all out of here. Away from 'em. INSIDE BUNKER The Old Wife emerges hesitantly. She then takes Thompson’s hand, and he eases her upright. She comes forth with the 6- year-old continuing to grip her leg. 107.

The Old Husband’s skittish but follows. Thompson gently holds the back of his arm; he’s nearly skin and bone. OUTSIDE BUNKER Thompson escorts them; he positions all indirectly of the Soldiers’ line of sight. Hugh Thompson peers back into the entrance way: THOMPSON (CONT’D) Anyone else in there? Hello? Another AILING WOMAN crawls out; she’s shouldering a tote of clothing and carrying a 10-year-old SICKLY GIRL. Thompson wonders what to do with these people. One by one, they come out, nine frightened souls tallied - two Women, five Children, one is Pham Thi Trine, two Elderly Men, one more feeble than the other piggy backs the first. Hugh Thompson walks with the nine Vietnamese, talking generally, communicating intentions through gesturing and body language. THOMPSON (CONT'D) Follow me. Come, follow me closer. Just stay close to me. No one's goin' to hurt you. Any of you. Lieutenant Brooks stares at Thompson as the Soldiers still take five; Partsch is meanwhile tattooing the Grenadier’s shoulder. GRENADIER You ever wonder if the Vietnamese dudes get English letters tatted on their skin? PARTSCH No, no I don’t. The Vietnamese reach the Hiller OH-23 Raven Aeroscout; scrambling, they step on or close to the helicopter. The crew assists. THOMPSON (To Andorettoa, subtly) We're low on fuel. Thompson leans in the cockpit, relaying a radio message to the gunship escorts. Colburn perspires in waves now; he doesn't bother to wipe it away; he can't free his trigger finger. 108.

THOMPSON (O.S.) (CONT’D) (Radio transmission) Danny, Brian, I need some help down here. Can y'all come in and get these civilians out of here before someone kills them? Please. I need help. Come pick these people up or else they're going to be dead -- else we are. A UH-1D Huey Helicopter Gunship lands; others, BRIAN LIVINGSTON'S, circles overhead, providing cover from air. DANNY MILLIANS looks out from the docked Gunship at the two Elderly Men and two of the Children, all of whom remain in Andorettoa's protection, waiting at the Aeroscout. At the same time, Thompson and Colburn begin to relocate some of the Vietnamese closer to the safety of Millians’ Gunship. THOMPSON (CONT’D) Danny. MILLIANS Thompson. This is a lot, not any more than what you got now. Blades’re gonna be cussing while spinning. THOMPSON I get it, don’t want to be mowing the grass. MILLIANS THOMPSON (CONT'D) Uh-huh. Danny, thank you. MILLIANS Up 'n down I see what's happenin', like you do Hugh. Millians gives the Vietnamese a lengthy look as his crew help them aboard, then to Lieutenant Brooks' penetrating leer. Thompson moves to Pham Thi Trine, he lifts her aboard. THOMPSON Get 'em above quickly. (Half-joking) I catch on quick, Danny, know there's little reason for you not to try and stay safe but you're coming back, ain't ya? MILLIANS (Humoring) I thought about not comin' back. (MORE) 109. MILLIANS (CONT'D) (Firmly) Thompson, you risk your life daily for us -- flushin' out the enemy, and these aren't my enemy. THOMPSON Thank you, Danny. Thompson gives a relieved breath. Millians looks to Lieutenant Brooks another time. THOMPSON (CONT’D) MILLIANS Thank you. Lieutenant’s looking aggravated. Sweatin' as if he's gonna raise hell. THOMPSON I'm not hiding, if he wanna start something we'll be part of finishing it, no matter the outcome. Thompson stays at the Gunship as its rotors start. Colburn goes back to Andorettoa. Millians’ gunship struggles to lift off from its overcapacity. A few seconds go by until it’s in the air. Colburn watches as Thompson backtracks to the Aeroscout. The Elderly Man, ailing from fragility, stands and musters a 45- degree bow as Thompson returns. Thompson acknowledges the respect.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - 10:20 ROADSIDE DITCH There’s a chasmal bullet hole to the foot of Herbert Carter, squelching blood as it leaks through a dressing. Carter’s shouldered by a twosome of Soldiers, NICHOLAS CAPEZZA, a field medic, and Fred Widmer. All are heading to a UH-1D Huey Helicopter for a medivac that’s not far from Phan Chot’s family home.

EXT. PHAN CHOT’S FAMILY HOME Nearby, Phan Chot still goes along My Lai as anybody might, any American that is. He returns to the burned-out shell of home, the flames now extinguished. He enters. 110.

INT. PHAN CHOT’S FAMILY HOME - CONTINUOUS He finds his daughter, HAI, blackened by flames and shot through the back. He falls to his knees. He holds her wilted body, grieving, hearing muffled words outside. PHAN CHOT (In Vietnamese; subtitled) Hai... Hai... Hai... TORTURED MAN (O.S.) (In Vietnamese; subtitled) The Viet Cong, 30 or 40 total...

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH - CONTINUOUS At the same time, the 3rd Platoon is casually sitting around, taking a break after the massacre. Among them is Captain Medina; he stretches his arms out as if to circulate blood to his clenched and bruised hands. Near to him is a TORTURED MAN, manacled and kneeling. His face’s flesh is jaggedly cut from a beating. Words pour out by a beat to his blood: TORTURED MAN ...30 to 40. 50... Overnight only... 50 overnight stayed, only 50. Meanwhile, adjacent another TORTURED MAN, #2, is exposed in nudity in a positional restraint. Manuel Lopez braces Tortured Man #2. Lieutenant LaCross steps close, punts his boot’s tread against the Man’s grimacing face. He drops, mud clings to his face. Captain Medina approaches Widmer as he returns. He is close to breaking a connection by tearing the radiotelephone from Widmer, who is holding it tightly. He orders the rest of Company C to take a break. CAPTAIN MEDINA (Radio transmission) Platoons, cease fire. Take a break, we’re moving back through the hamlet. Captain Medina hangs up the radiotelephone. He lights a cigarillo; as he does, he dances the flame over a thatched roof of a neighboring hut. 111.

At the same time, Widmer breaks away, walking about a ruination of dotted homesteads. Widmer passes Michael Bernhardt, who canters along with Greg Olsen, both walking, aghast at the atrocities. Their feet tread to an ashen downswing like falling snow. Turning, not able to look through smoke, Bernhardt and Olsen rest against a lean-to of a home’s opening. It’s stitched by machine gunfire; they step forward and peer within. BERNHARDT Keep goin'. I want to see if someone's here... To help.

EXT./INT. LONGHOUSE 1 - CONTINUOUS Bernhardt and Olsen step inside. Do Thi Nguyen with the black silk bow still tied to her hair lays dead by her Mother; Do Thi Nguyen’s body is abused, clothes ripped, and there’s a pooled area bloodied around her genitalia - raped to death. OLSEN ...Don't make a whole lot of sense, Michael, wasn't by a rifle? BERNHARDT Wasn't none, Greg. Wasn't no gunshot, only a guy, Greg. OLSEN Wasn't no gunshot... Bernhardt and Olsen mull over the massacre in a open-air silence as bodies materialize. Phuong Thi Moi, 13, and Do Thi Man, 12, both lay nude, both their vaginas savagely ripped agape. Nearby, Pham Thi Nho, 19, the same circumstance. BERNHARDT ...I could have done something... CUT TO:

EXT./INT. QUANG NAGI PROVINCE UH-1D HUEY HELICOPTER GUNSHIP COCKPIT Danny Millians twists his neck, looking at a cargo of petrified Vietnamese, while initiating a landing maneuver on open grassland three miles from My Lai. The gunship touches down. 112.

The Vietnamese passengers are relieved at disembarking; Pham Thi Trine waves goodbye as she’s freed. A moment passes; the gunship lifts off back to My Lai. CUT TO:

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, SOUTH INTERCUT BELOW AND ABOVE THE IRRIGATION CHANNEL Along the channel’s slope, Harry Stanley and Robert Maples walk, both pressed between oncoming Platoon members, who transfer their bloodied marks to their own military clothes through awkward contact. Stanley and Maples stand on top of the precipice; open- mouthed, they look at the aftermath. Fluids emerge from Stanley’s nostrils as emotion overtakes him. BELOW Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter are still alive, laying underneath the corpses of others. She frees herself and then her Daughter. ABOVE The Young Soldier squats constipated, incapable of a bowel movement. Suddenly, Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter surface the channel. Both are bathed in blood head-to-toe; they sprint fleeing to and across a path. The Young Soldier frightened dips to his own stool as they hightail it past. Running, Pham Thi Thuam ducks with her Daughter as gunfire spirals overhead. After a moment, far from the M16’s reach, Pham Thi Thuam and her Daughter freeze in the sunlight. Weeping hysterically, Pham Thi Thuam starts scratching at clumps of anatomy and flesh matted on her Daughter’s clothing and hair.

EXT./INT. MY LAI HAMLET, NORTH HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Larry Colburn and Glenn Andorettoa stand ready, aiming as Lieutenant Brooks and his squadron stay put. 113.

Lieutenant Brooks slouches to his feet, picking up a discarded pack of cigarettes; one’s left unlit. He taps it out against his weaponry’s butt plate and puts it in his mouth as he watches the gunship return. Danny Millians’ gunship lands opposite Hugh Thompson's Hiller OH-23 Raven Aeroscout. Lieutenant Brooks lights the cigarette with a lit match, takes a lengthy drag, exhales. Watching, he sees Thompson accompanying the final Vietnamese aboard the gunship. Lieutenant Brooks is still, soundless, and with his peripheral vision, he sees Thompson share a final word with Millians before taking off. Thompson marches back to the Aeroscout, casting a condemning gaze at Lieutenant Brooks. He boards the cockpit, all set and ready. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT The Aeroscout takes off. Thompson and his crew remain silent. After a minute, they fly over the irrigation channel. At a low altitude, the crew take a long hard look at all those countless bodies below. Andorettoa desperately looks for one thing. And there it is: ANDORETTOA Boss, something's moving down there! You can swing back around, right? HILLER OH-23 RAVEN As the Aeroscout loops and lands, Andorettoa pivots his head. He focuses in on a small moving spot. Landed. Andorettoa darts out. Thompson and Colburn safeguard the spot. Now no Soldiers are about. IRRIGATION CHANNEL Andorettoa reaches the channel’s boundary and slides down into it. BELOW Andorettoa steps cautiously over the mowed down bodies. He can’t help but see all the lifeless hands, fingers stiff and curved over, hundreds of pairs. 114.

He slows, lifts a corpse’s torso, sunlight shines through numerous bullet holes; laying underneath, clinging to his mother's corpse is Do Ba. Andorettoa looks into his dark eyes; he pulls the boy from a coagulated bloody snare and picks him up. Do Ba is petrified, stock-still with shock. Andorettoa then caries Do Ba along a laborious footing, sliding on all the intestines, pieces of flesh, blood, and additional bodily fluids. Tormented, Andorettoa looks around. There are no living, just dead. Genders and characteristics are unrecognizable - only bodies lacerated and shredded by automatic firing. He kneels and checks the pulses of random Vietnamese bodies. One, two, three, four - nothing. Then: a MAIMED WOMAN is alive. Andorettoa cherishes her hands while still carrying Do Ba. As time passes so does she, lifeless. He goes on ahead to the edge of the channel; he tries but is unable to summit its slope. ABOVE Colburn’s now above at the edge; he grabs the scruff of Do Ba's shirt, lifting the boy up, while simultaneously using the butt of his machine gun to pull Andorettoa up. After the fact, Colburn realizes his safety’s off. He sighs and puts it on again. Andorettoa marches straight to Thompson, carrying Do Ba. Colburn follows and sits next to Do Ba, who is sitting in the copter’s hull next to Andorettoa. Colburn checks the boy for physical traumas. Thompson leans in; he has his visor up. He looks at Do Ba close to tears. All eventually go aboard, ready to lift off. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Do Ba’s on Colburn's lap, being looked over again. He’s limp as a rag doll, eyes dilated; Colburn snaps his fingers in front of the boy’s face - Do Ba can't blink due to the overwhelming psychological trauma. Meanwhile, Thompson sits speechless, tears run down his face. He begins the take-off procedures. CUT TO: 115.

EXT. MY LAI’S NEIGHBORING HAMLET Carrying her Daughter, Pham Thi Thuam ramps up momentum as she reaches the final stretch to a neighboring hamlet. At a livestock drinking trough, Pham Thi Thuam drops her Daughter down. Both weep frenziedly as Pham Thi Thuam washes herself and her Daughter. As they clean off blood, other Villagers proceed towards. Some just watch; they’re impassive to what they see, attuned to it. A now washed Truong Thi Le and Do Ding Dung approach with fresh garments. CUT TO:

EXT./INT. QUANG NAGI PROVINCE SUPERIMPOSE: Lawrence Manley Colburn and Hugh Clowers Thompson, Jr., the Hiller OH-23 Raven Aeroscout pilot, one of the imperative eyewitnesses of the My Lai prosecution, both solemnly testifying, faced a collaborative objective by President Nixon's faculty team to disrepute their testimony. They were the subject of numerous hearings. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Thompson’s Aeroscout touches down at a sanatorium in Quang Ngai. As they land, a CATHOLIC NUN comes out. Hugh Thompson leaves the cockpit. He goes to the fuselage to Larry Colburn, who passes Do Ba into Thompson’s arms. Thompson approaches the Catholic Nun, choking on his words: HUGH THOMPSON Sister, I don't know what you're going to do with him, but I don't believe he has any family left. The Catholic Nun relieves Thompson of Do Ba. CUT TO:

EXT. LANDING ZONE DOTTIE - 11:15 SUPERIMPOSE: In the end, Lieutenant William L. Calley was the only man convicted. Charged with murdering 104 Vietnamese Civilians, he served a house arrest sentence of three and half years. 116.

HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Hugh Thompson's aircraft throttling every last percent of power, he arrives back at landing zone Dottie. The rotors’ blades form a tempo throughout. Landed. Thompson leaps out of the cockpit, throws his helmet to the ground, and proceeds towards his approaching section leader, CAPTAIN LLOYD, to tell the man what he had seen. SUPERIMPOSE: The My Lai atrocities were a massacre of which senseless acts claimed the lives of 182 Women, of whom 17 were pregnant, 173 Children, of which 56 were from newborn to five months old, and 60 Men and Women over the age of 60. 504 in total. FADE TO BLACK. CAPTAIN MEDINA (V.O.) LIEUTENANT BROOKS (V.O.) (Radio transmission, (Radio transmission, untroubled) distorted) We have reports of civilian Knock off the killing... deaths... Stop the We’ve finished for the Killing... Stop killing day... You hear me? civilians...

FADE IN:

INT. WAREHOUSE (PARTIALLY REPEATED FOOTAGE) The rotors’ blades tempo transitions into a hammer hitting a nail. SERIES OF SHOTS A VIETNAMESE CRAFTSMEN produces planks, sawing using a carpenter’s bow saw. Nearby, the CRAFTSMAN’S SON amuses himself by stacking and balancing sawn-off cuts as high as possible without it toppling over. The Craftsmen is assembling a wooden coffin - child-sized. Then, the Craftsman and another MAN lift a coffin onto a low stack in front of a reserve of approximately 900 wooden coffins. SUPERIMPOSE: Throughout the Vietnam War, 3,000,000 Vietnamese were killed. Among them were 2,000,000 civilians, and an 117. additional 2,000,000 sustained injurious trauma. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN:

EXT. ARABLE LANDS & DENSE FORESTRY (PARTIALLY REPEATED FOOTAGE) SUPERIMPOSE: Additionally, the political governing authorities of Vietnam publicized that 4,000,000 citizens were exposed to the herbicide, “Agent Orange,” and the Red Cross of Vietnam assessed that as many as 1,000,000 citizens are disabled or have health problems today because of the pesticidal agent. The faint roar of the 3C-123 Provider Aircraft reverberates. At a river bank is a heavily Pregnant Woman. She watches the three Viet Cong on the sampan drift down-river. She’s standing among the unnatural decaying tree line caused by the frequent fall of the U.S. defoliant. SUPERIMPOSE: The United States government has challenged these figures as being unreliable. FADE TO BLACK. FADE IN:

EXT. ARABLE LAND & FORESTRY - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: 8TH APRIL 1968. SOUTHWEST OF QUANG NGAI CITY. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN An OH-23 Aeroscout attends to two UH-1D Huey Helicopter gunships. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN COCKPIT Those who operate as the crew are the pilot, first Lieutenant BARRY LLOYD, Glenn Andorettoa, the gunner, and crew chief CHARLES DUTTON. They suddenly start taking a layoff of streaming fire from a 12.7 mm anti-aircraft machine gun. Andorettoa immediately takes a bullet from a small-arms ammunition. Dead by a sole shot through his head, he still shoots his M60 throughout. 118.

A volley of shrapnel rains inside the cockpit, destroying both the swash plate and the control panel. Dutton becomes covered with avgas, burning alive. The OH-23 Aeroscout begins to go down. It crashes into the ground, bursting into flames. Dutton remains in the cockpit alone, his screams are muffled by the Aeroscout’s mechanical workings of the wreckage. Dutton looks as a V-C Soldier runs toward the wreckage; it’s Tuân. He shoots Dutton dead through the bubble windshield. HILLER OH-23 RAVEN Outside, Barry Lloyd is laying in shock, landing where the impact had thrown him. He's partially burning; noticing, he rolls to put out the flames. The flames extinguished, he lays immobile and gazes downward at his ankles. Both are flattened, bones are splintered. Without pause, suddenly Tuân rolls over, falling over Lloyd. Lloyd’s painfully grinding his teeth, waiting for death while he holds the crucifix around his neck. Tuân stands, almost blind to Lloyd’s presence. He turns and jogs away. Lloyd sits up slightly, the crucifix falls around his neck, creating a clear silhouette of the cross against the flames. FADE TO BLACK. CARD: Pham Choi, age 59, male. Huynh Thi Hung, age 39, female. Pham Thi Cau, age 49, female. Phung Thi Muong, age 29, female. Pham Thai Hoa, age 10, female. Pham Sinh, age 5, male. Pham Thi Hue, age 5, female. Pham Thi Hong, age 1, female. Pham Thi Thi, age 39, female. Pham Thi Dang, age 29, female. Trinh Thi Thur, age 8, female. Duong Thi Chu, age 69, female. Pham Mui, age 43, male. Pham Mui, age 43, male. Do Thi Mui, age 67, female. Do Khanh, age 80, male. Nguyen Thi Dao, age 70, female. Hoang Dich, age 46, male. Vo Thi Tu, age 40, female. Hoang Van Thu, age 7, male. Hoang Van Du, age 5, male. Do Thi Tri, age 31, female. 119.

Bui Thi San, age 8, female. Bui Thi Man, age 6, female. Ly Thi Dong, age 50, female. Quang Em (Quam), age 49, male. Quang Du (Vu), age 49, male. Quang Xuat, age 50, male. Quang Thi Luy, age 6 female. Quang Thi Ban, age 4, female. Quang Cu, age 1, male. Pham Hoe, age 30, male. Pham Cu Ba, age 4, male. Pham Hoac (Huoc), age 60, male. Pham Xi, age 18, male. Nguyen Thi Chac, age 40 female. Pham Thi Cam, age 18, female. Pham Thi Bay, age 10, female. Pham Tam, age 8, male. Pham Thi Chinh, age 2, female. Pham Doc, age 40, male. Nguyen Thi Tham, age 35, female. Pham Tai, age 12, male. Pham Xi, age 10, male. Pham Meo, age 8, male. Pham Duc, age 6, male. Vo Thi Mai, age 35, female. Luong Xi, age 14, male. Luong Sau, age 11, male. Luong Thi Kien, age 37, female. Pham Luong, age 15, male. Pham Muc, age 13, male. Pham Duc, age 10, male. Pham Thi Be, age 4, female. Duong Thi Kheo, age 67, female. Pham Thi Dang, age 17, female. Pham Boi, age 8, male. Pham Thi Bay, age 6 female. Nguyen Khoi, age 50, male. Nguyen Thi Nam, age 43, male. Nguyen Nay, age 12, male. Le Thi Le, age 48, female. Nguyen Thi Thu, age 32, female. Tran Thi Diem, age 48, female. To Gioi, age 10, male. To Mot, age 6, male. Pham Thi Hiep, age 48, female. Nguyen Thi Thanh, age 48, female. Pham Thi Giau, age 31, female. Luong Thi Hung, age 71, female. Pham Thi Van, age 61, female. Nguyen Thi Sang, age 29, female. Nguyen Thi Sao, age 28, female. Nguyen Van Bon, age 27, male. Luong Thi Xanh, age 8, female. Luong Rung, age 11, male. Luong Tan, age 5, male. Ngo Thi Ty, age 9, female. Ngo Thi Mui, age 33, female. Luong Hai, age 11, male. 120.

Luong Thanh, age 8, male. Luong Thi Diep, age 5, female. Luong Tao, age 2, male. Ngo Thi Mot, age 10, female. Le Tieu, age 11, male. Le Thi Hom, age 75, female. Nguyen Thi Hue, age 39, female. Pham Thi Chut, age 39, female. Do Thi Lam, age 9, female. Pham Thi Rang, age 42, female. Luong Van Hieu, age 10, male. Vo Cao Phuc, age 9, male. Vo Thi Anh, age 7, female. Vo Cao Sau, age 4, male. Vo Nuoi, age 76, male. Pham Thi Lich, age 54, female. Tu Thi Y, age 26, female. Vo Cu Teo, age 3, male. Pham Thi Huoc, age 55, female. Nguyen Thi Thiet, age 20, female. Vo Duc To, age 2, male. Vo Mua (Mai), age 61, male. Pham Thi Phan, age 59, female. Vo Thi Muoi, age 15, female. Vo Thi Nhung, age 2, female. Ngo Thi Ngon, age 31, female. Nguyen Thi Khi, age 9, female. Nguyen Khai, age 7, male. Nguyen Khoi, age 3, male. Nguyen Thi Hoa, 28, female. Tran Hai, 9, male. Tran Ba, 7, male. Tran Tu, 3, male. Le Thi Khuu (Lai), 42, female. Vo Thi Phu, age 30, female. Duong Thi Ha, age 1, female. Nguyen Thi Ba, age 5, female. Cao Thi Em, age 61, female. Nguyen Thi Quyen, age 32, female. Ly Thi Hai, age 9, female. Ly Van Sinh, age 6, male. Nguyen Thi Yen, age 29, female. Ngo Thi Cat (Mot), age 45, female. Nguyen Thi Mot, age 23, female. Nguyen Duy Thanh, age 15, male. Tran Thi Be, age 3, female. Ngo De, age 6, male. Ngo Le, age 4, male. Ngo Xin, age 15, male. Pham Thi Dao, age 48, female. Do Thi Kieu, age 70, female. Vo Thi Vai, age 49, female. Nguyen Thi Ty, age 65, female. Nguyen Nhom, age 50, male. Nguyen Thi Bung, age 13, female. Nguyen Thi Chua, age 10, female. Vo Song, age 25, male. Ngo Ngo, age 55, male. 121.

Ngo Tu, age 15, male. Ngo Sinh, age 63, male. Ngo Dac, age 40, male. Ngo Thi Biet, age 45, female. Ngo Cac, age 46, male. Pham Hung, age 78, male. Le Thi Duoc, age 36, female. Pham San, age 12, male. Pham Thi Thanh, age 6, female. Nguyen Thi Puoc, age 62, female. Nguyen Thi Ba, age 12, female. Bu Thi Biet, age 37, female. Nguyen Thi Muoi, age 3, female. Bui Thi Bong, age 76, female. Nguyen Thi Chut, age 24, female. Nguyen Van Chay, age 3, male. Dinh Thi Hai, age 67, female. Nguyen Thi Thong, age 38, female. Nguyen Thi Dung, age 6, female. Nguyen Ky, age 14, male. Pham Quy, age 80, male. Nguyen Thi Quy, age 76, female. Pham Thi Co, age 56, female. Nguyen Thi Tham, age 12, female. Nguyen Thi Hong, age 11, female. Nguyen Thi Van, age 7, female. Do Con (Ngo), age 65, male. Do Duy Hat, age 5, male. Do Duy Thanh, age 11, male. Do Thi Nhut, age 7, female. Nguyen Nhieu, age 47, male. Nguyen Chon, age 68, male. Nguyen Toan, age 21, male. Do Xuc, age 61, male. Nguyen Thi Day, age 50, female. Pham Thi Thinh, age 3, female. Pham Thi Thu, age 1, female. Do Thi Bay, age 21, female. Nguyen Thi Tuong, age 46, female. Truong Thi Dau, age 45, female. Le Thi Tuu, age 70, female. Pham Thi Tho, age 64, female. Nguyen Thi Bi, age 17, female. Nguyen Thi Thu, age 8, female. Truong Nhi, age 33, male. Nguyen Thi Chan, age 31, female. Truong Bon, age 13, male. Truong Nam, age 6, male. Truong Thi Sau, age 4, female. Truong Thi Bay, age 3, female. Nguyen Thi Chua, age 56, female. Nguyen Thi Dao, age 8, female. Le Thi Thi, age 30, female. Nguyen Thi Thuyen, age 5, female. Nguyen Cu, age 2, male. Nguyen Hay, age 57, male. Do Thi Hanh, age 58, female. Nguyen Hay, age 21, male. 122.

Nguyen Cuong, age 3, male. Nguyen Giac, age 1, male. Nguyen Han, age 2, male. Nguyen Thi Bay, age 19, female. Nguyen Thi Dan, age 18, female. Do Thi Suong, age 70, male. Truong Giang, age 55, male. Do Thi Hiep, age 57, female. Nguyen Thi Tuong, age 22, female. Nguyen Ca, age 2, male. Do Cu Bay, age 9, male. Do Cu, age 3, male. Truong Tho, age 72, male. Truong Thi Mai, age 43, female. Le Thi Bay, age 45, female. Truong Thi Suu, age 18, female. Truong Kiet, age 18, male. Truong Thi Nep, age 9, female. Truong Thi Du, age 1, female. Troung Sung, age 62, male. Pham Muc Lai, age 70, male. Nguyen Da (Xi), age 6, male. Tran Dau, age 80, male. Tran Doc, age 48, male. Le Thi Tat, age 43, female. Tran Hung Sinh, age 18, male. Tran The, age 5, male. Do Thi Xuyen, age 68, female. Do Thi Loi, age 34, female. Truong Thi Ba, age 8, female. Truong Thi Khai, age 6, female. Troung Tan, age 14, male. Truong Cu, age 12, male. Troung Thi Xi, age 8, female. Troung Thi Bich, age 10, female. Troung Kich, age 6, male. Pham Thi Nhi, age 65, female. Nguyen Thi Cung, age 57, female. Do Tro, age 35, male. Do Thi Nhanh, age 7, female. Do Thi Be, age 9, female. Do Cu, age 5, male. Do Thi Loc, age 7, female. Do Cu, age 1, male. Pham Thi Em, age 34, female. Do Thi Ho, age 23, female. Nguyen Thi Chuc, age 55, female. Nguyen Van Duc, age 3, male. Cao Thi Nhung (Lieu), age 62, female. Nguyen Thi Dau, age 36, female. Pham Thi Mai, age 12, female. Pham Phuc (Dum), age 26, male. Pham Thi Nho, age 24, female. Pham Thi Khanh, age 6, female. Pham Hoa, age 4, male. Phung Thi Ly, age 24, female. Pham Thi Du, age 1, female. Nguyen Thi Sam, age 22, female. 123.

Do Thi Nguyet, age 12, female. Do Duoc, age 36, male. Do Thanh, age 14, male. Do Thi Nhut, age 7, female. Do Cu, age 1, male. Do Thi Be, age 3, female. Le Van My, age 8, male. Do Thi Can, age 26, female. Do Thi Thuoc, age 45, female. Phung Thi Lieu, age 25, female. Phung Thi Tien, age 5, female. Do Dinh Tu, age 4, male. Lu Thi Xuan, age 34, female. Nguyen Thi Thuan, age 60, female. Quang Thi Van age 55, female. Truong De, age 30, male. Nguyen Da (Hoa), age 50, male. Pham Thi Lau, age 47, female. Nguyen Hiep, age 40, male. Do Thi Ri, age 70, female. Do Thi Chin, age 49, female. Do Thi Gai, age 42, female. Phan Thi Tinh, age 70, female. Pham Thi Dao (Lai), age 75, female. Nguyen Doi, age 70, male. Nguyen Thi Num, age 35, female. Nguyen Thi Xi, age 12, female. Nguyen Tai, age 72, male. Nguyen Gap, age 68, male. Nguyen Thi Lanh, age 30, female. Nguyen Thi Thanh, age 28, female. Nguyen Co, age 28, male. Truong Thi Huyen, age 65, female. Do Ich, age 56, male. Do Dung, age 8, male. Dang Hanh, age 63, male. Truong Thi Nho, age 61, female. Dang Thi Xi, age 4, female. Dang Duc, age 2, male. Pham Lan, age 49, male. Ly Thi Anh, age 30, female. Pham Hung, age 14, male. Pham Thi Xi, age 1, female. Nguyen Thi Dan, age 27, female. Pham Cuong, age 1, male. Nguyen Luu, age 5, male. Nguyen Thi Nguyet, age 8, female. Pham Thi Hoac, age 31, female. Nguyen Thi Lien, age 52, female. Nguyen Thi Tri, age 10, female. Nguyen Hoa, age 5, male. Nguyen Danh, age 2, male. Phung Thi Hiep, age 30, female. Nguyen Thi Hue, age 12, female. Nguyen Thi Be, age 3, female. Le Thi Binh, age 34, female. Do Thi Nguyet, age 10, female. Do Bsch, age 8, male. 124.

Do Cu, age 4, male. Pham Thi Ung, age 45, female. Nguyen Thi Nguyet, age 8, female. Nguyen Cu, age 5, male. Do Thi Mai, age 42, female. Nguyen Thi Ru, age 11, female. Nguyen Ran, age 9, male. Nguyen Cu, age 7, male. Do Phung, age 68, male. Do Doan, age 20, male. Phung Cu, age 1, male. Pham Thi Tuan, age 28, female. Nguyen Thi Huynh, age 7, female. Nguyen Chi, age 44, male. Ngo Thi Tuyet, age 46, female. Vo Thi Thin, age 68, female. Nguyen Thi Bich, age 45, female. Nguyen Thi Buom, age 8, female. Bui Ta, age 60, male. Pham Thi So, age 50, female. Nguyen Thi Lan, age 19, female. Tran Lan (Hau), age 59, male. Do Thi An, age 42, female. Tran Thi Huong, age 17, female. Tran Van Khoi, age 15, male. Tran Van Sanh, age 12, male. Tran Thi Thu, age 10, female. Tran Thi Hoa, age 1, female. Nguyen Thi Duong, age 12, female. Nguyen Mai, age 9, male. Nguyen Dep, age 7, male. Nguyen Tinh, age 4, male. Nguyen Tu, age 2, male. Nguyen Khuong, age 25, male. Pham Thi Tri, age 23, female. Nguyen Thi Be, age 1, female. Pham Ky, age 20, male. Pham Thi Than, age 12, female. Pham Thi Lanh, age 10, female. Pham Co, age 60, male. Pham Quoi, age 39, male. Nguyen Thi Bo (Tau), age 49, female. Tran Thi Hong, age 11, female. Tran Thi Hue, age 7, female. Tran Thi Thong, age 55, female. Ngo Da, age 20, male. Ngo Thi Quan, age 14, female. Ngo Thi Minh, age 12, female. Ngo Thi Xi, age 7, female. Ngo Thi Hoa, age 8, female. Ngo Cu, age 4, male. Le Ly, age 70, male. Vo Thi But, age 65, female. Nguyen Thi Luan, age 34, female. Le Co, age 42, male. Le Cu, age 11, male. Le Thi Danh, age 9, female. Le Thi Biet, age 13, female. 125.

Do Thi Duoc, age 70, female. Nguyen Suong, age 45, male. Pham Nho, age 35, male. Lu Thi Quen, age 42, female. Do Thi Nguyet, age 9, female. Do Cu, age 5, male. Pham Thi Xi, age 20, female. Nguyen Tan Sanh (Goi), age 75, male. Vo Cu Tuan, age 10, male. Vo Phan, age 11, male. Tran An, age 45, male. Tran Chan, age 20, male. Tran Suong Kinh, age 28, male. Pham Nhat, age 1, male. Pham Xi, age 9, male. Pham Tan, age 5, male. Nguyen Ky, age 52, male. Truong Luyen, age 58, male. Truong Luyen, age 12, male. Truong Cong, age 16, male. Truong Sung, age 2, male. Truong Thi Nhon, age 6, female. Nguyen Quyen, age 46, male. Nguyen Duc Huy, age 32, male. Nguyen Thi Mot, age 6, female. Do Bong, age 10, male. Nguyen Hiep, age 52, male. Do Thi Thuan, age 60, female. Nguyen Oanh, age 10, male. Nguyen Thi Anh, age 14, female. Nguyen Hoang, age 60, male. Nguyen Ha, age 5, male. Nguyen Dacm age 10, male. Do Ky, age 57, male. Do Phuoc, age 26, male. Do Thi Binh, age 12, female. Do Thuy, age 10, male. Pham Chuc, age 62, male. Pham Chanh, age 1, male. Pham Cuoc, age 12, male. Pham Suy, age 41, male. Pham Kha, age 68, male. Pham Tong, age 38, male. Dao Son, age 50, male. Pham A, age 6, male. Pham Tuan, age 12, male. Pham Co, age 49, male. Pham Thi Sinh, age 19, female. Pham Thi Be, age 1, female. Pham Thi Em, age 6, female. Nguyen Thi Muoi, age 10, female. Nguyen Thi Lun, age 13, female. Nguyen Mot, age 50, male. Nguyen Dan, age 52, male. Nguyen Cao, age 64, male. Nguyen Thi Hoa, age 7, female. Le Thi Canh, age 14, female. Le Thi Tuong, age 12, female. 126.

Pham Thi Kiet, age 26, female. Pham Thi Tho, age 16, female. Pham Thi Hoang, age 40, female. Nguyen Van Thanh, age 5, male. Nguyen Van Cu, age 1, male. Ngo Thi Thi, age 7, male. Nguyen Toan, age 13, male. Nguyen Nhieu, age 13, male. Le Thi Minh, age 2, female. Nguyen Thi Kien, age 16, female. Le Thi Duoc, age 14, female. Nguyen Thi Dum, age 38, female. Nguyen Thi Hoa, age 16, female. Nguyen Thi Nga, age 2, female. Pham Thi Luong, age 2, female. Pham Thi Toan, age 49, female. Do Ngoc Nen, age 50, male. Do Thi Nham, age 33, female. Nguyen Thi Cai, age 43, female. Nguyen Cam, age 19, male. Nguyen Duong, age 39, male. Do Thi Xi, age 2, female. Duong Thi Han, age 10, female. Tran Thi Soa, age 6, female. Nguyen Duong, age 55, male. Tran Thi Phuong, age 60, female. Nguyen My, age 21, male. Nguyen Quan, age 18, male. Nguyen Thi Buom, age 12, female. Nguyen Thi Phuong, age 10, female. Do Hop, age 8, male. Nguyen Thi Truong, age 32, female. Truong Thi Ri, age 2, female. Nguyen Thi Binh, age 6, female. Nguyen Thi Bon, age 10, female. Nguyen Thi Huynh, age 15, female. Ngo Ngo, age 5, male. Pham Chiem, age 45, male. Do Thich, age 6, male. Pham Tang, age 59, male. Truong Hiep, age 18, male. Nguyen Thi Ngo, age 45, female. Nguyen Thi Mot, age 22, female. Nguyen Van, age 15, male. Truong Thi Dien, age 67, female. Duong Thi Nho, age 66, female. Nguyen Sinh, age 19, male. Truong Anh, age 42, male. Do Bang, age 15, male. Do Thi Sang, age 13, female. Do Thi Thanh, age 1, female. Do Tat, age 9, male. Do Thi Thanh, age 7, female. Tran Son, age 52, male. Tran Hoa, age 38, male. Truong Thi Chau, age 72, female. Nguyen Phuong, age 12, male. Pham Huoc, age 50, male. 127.

Pham Thi Man, age 10, female. Pham Thi Vong, age 71, female. Vo Thi Co, age 72, female. Nguyen Thi Thien, age 32, female. Pham Thi Moi, age 70, female. Pham Son, age 42, male. Pham Em, age 18, male. Truong Thi Lan, age 38, female. Do Hanh, age 1, male. Nguyen Cu, age 11, male. Pham Tan, age 9, male. Tran Kinh, age 38, male. Do Phuong, age 19, male. Nguyen Tam, age 48, male. Nguyen Cuoi, age 10, male. Nguyen Tio Tuat, age 46, female. Do Thi Xi, age 1, female. Ngo Thi Biet, age 45, female. Hugh Clowers Thompson Jr., April 15, 1943 - January 6, 2006. Glenn Urban Andreotta, October 30, 1947 - April 8, 1968. Lawrence Manley Colburn, July 6, 1949 - December 13, 2016. FADE IN:

EXT. TRANG BANG - DAY SUPERIMPOSE: 8TH JUNE 1972. TRANG BANG, SOUTH VIETNAM. ALEXANDER SHIMKIN’S sprinting flat-out, panting as he seeks out one individual who has caught his eye. A Vietnamese WOMAN and CHILD, both marred by ash and wearing seared and perished garments, walk in front of him. Gaining momentum, Shimkin comes behind five Vietnamese Children. One stops, a 9-year-old girl, PHAN THI KIM PHUC. She’s naked and has a severe scorch on her back and along her arm. All run toward Nick Ut. He takes a photo with his camera - a Pulitzer Prize-winning photograph - "Napalm Girl." Phan Thi Kim Phuc stands finally, displaying the severe torrid scorches on her back. MILITARY PERSONNEL verge at the scene, dowsing Phan Thi Kim Phuc’s burns with water from their canteens. Phan Thi Kim Phuc bellows in agony - a tempo is formed by the screams and cries, continuing throughout: SLAMS TO BLACK. END CREDITS - SUPERIMPOSE NARRATIVES PHOTOGRAPHY.