-You snotty little bastard.
-I’d like to ask for a recess.
-I’d like an answerto the question.
-The court will wait for an answer.
-If Lieutenant Kendrick gave an order that Santiago wasn’t to be touched then why did he have to be transferred?
Lieutenant Kendrick ordered the Code Red because that’s what you told him to do.
-Object.
-And then you cut these guys loose.
-I’ll hold you in contempt.
-You doctored the logbook.
-Damn it, Kaffee.
-Consider yourself in contempt.
-Colonel Jessup, did you order the Code Red?
-You don’t have to answer that.
-I’ll answer the question.
-You want answers?
-I think I’m entitled.
-You want answers?
-I want the truth.
-You can’t handle the truth.
I have a greater responsibility than you can possibly fathom.
You weep for Santiago, and you curse the Marines.
You have the luxury of not knowing what I know, that Santiago’s death, while tragic, probably saved lives.
And my existence, while grotesque and incomprehensible to you, saves lives.
-You don’t want the truth because deep down you don’t talk about you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall. We use words like honour, code, loyalty. We use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use them as a punch line. I have neither the time nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the blanket of the freedom I provide and then questions the manner in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you and went on your way. Otherwise, I suggest you pick up a weapon and stand a post. Either way, I don’t give a damn what you think you are entitled to.
-Did you order the Code Red?
-I did the job.
