Zone Troopers (1985) Movie Script
1
Joey!
-Hey, Joey!
-What gives, Mittens?
I'm reading here.
You still got that book
with them blonde dames
from space?
-Pirate Women of Venus?
-That's the one.
Sorry, pal.
Swapped it to a guy
in G-squad.
For a pack of Luckies.
Nuts! It had a swell cover.
Say, Verona,
you don't smoke.
How about them Luckies?
Thought you'd never ask.
That's gonna cost you
every candy bar you got.
All of 'em?
Smell that fine
Virginia tobacco?
Hand 'em over.
How's that ankle, Philips?
This cold ain't
doing it no good.
What I really need
out here is a nurse.
Yeah, me too, doc.
Me too.
Snowman to Scotty one!
Snowman to Scotty one!
Scotty, where the hell are you?
I still can't reach
him, Sarge.
All I get is this junk.
I tell you, it's weird.
I've never heard
anything like it.
Keep trying.
Snowman to Scotty one,
do you read me?
Ferguson, let me
see your compass.
Sure.
Thanks.
Hey, Sarge, how long
are we gonna stay here?
Forward, march!
Hey, boys!
Hold it just
like that.
Perfect!
Who the hell are you?
Yeah, where'd you come from?
I hooked up with
your outfit this morning.
Charlie Dolan.
The Charlie Dolan?
Afraid so.
He's the writer guy.
All the big papers
print his stuff.
Yeah, I know.
Corporal Mattinski.
Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
Jeez, Mr. Dolan.
You gonna do
a story on us?
Something like that, son.
Hey, corporal.
Mind if I bum a smoke
from you? Thank you.
Say, is that
the Zippo General Patton
give ya?
-Sure is.
-Wow!
Thanks for the smoke.
See you later.
Say, Mr. Dolan.
You didn't get the name.
PFC, Joseph Verona.
Fort Lee, New Jersey.
Okay, Joey, you got it.
Take it easy.
Son of Angelo and Rose Verona.
Hey, Sergeant Stone.
Charlie Dolan.
Yeah, I know.
How about that interview, huh?
Later!
-Butt me, Mittens.
-Sure, Sarge.
So, how are we doing?
Hey, Mittens,
you got cigarettes?
Sir, I don't think
we can hold off the
other squads any longer.
I think they're lost.
What's more,
the radio's not working.
Something's not right.
I say we walk now,
Lieutenant.
Listen up, Sergeant.
I've been taking
your guff all morning long.
I'm in charge here
and it's high time you
started listening to me.
There. There, you see?
There they are, now.
Lieutenant, I wouldn't...
Damn green kid.
Take cover!
Pull out!
Red Cross! Red corps.
More coming.
-We gotta get
out of here.
-Joey, 10 o'clock!
Matin! Make for the woods!
Let's go!
Come on!
Sarge!
They got the sarge.
No, look!
What are you
waiting for? More krauts?
Where are the rest of our guys?
We're it! Move!
Okay, I think
we're in the clear.
Boy, Sarge, I crossed
you off that time.
I guess it's true.
Nothing seems to kill
the Iron Sarge.
What'd I say?
I don't wanna hear
that ration of bull
from you or anybody.
You know what
saved my neck? This.
Helmet. Steel.
GI, Olive Drab.
Government issue.
Nothing else.
Not luck. Not magic,
not my guardian angel.
Understood?
Gentlemen, move out.
Mittens, point.
The radio bought it
with Ferguson, Sarge.
Did you check it out?
Made sure it couldn't be salvaged?
No, sir. I did not.
Damn it, Mittens.
What the hell were
you thinking about?
I was thinking of my pals
laying dead back there.
I was thinking of you
turning down that
battlefield commission.
If you had been
in charge, instead of
that baby-faced lieutenant,
we would've never
gotten ambushed.
So, that's how you figure it?
That's how I figure it.
What commission was that?
What the hell are you doing?
Taking notes.
Ah, that's swell.
Say, fellas,
how much farther
are we gonna hike?
My dogs are screaming.
Damnedest thing I ever saw.
Compass won't settle.
Probably some new
kraut secret weapon.
Magnetic ray, perhaps?
Get a load of Buck Rogers.
Could be an iron ore deposit.
Where do you figure
we are, Sergeant?
I don't know.
Somewhere behind
enemy lines.
You know, it's funny.
You know, these woods.
We could just
easily be in Illinois.
Yeah, till you get
popped by a sniper.
Sniper? No!
We're in too deep!
Ain't nothing out here
but us and the bears.
Fire!
Mortar!
What happened?
Could have been lightning, huh?
Weird.
Wife and kid?
They were once.
How long's it been
since you've seen 'em?
Two years.
Only family I got now
are Sarge and Joey.
What about you? Got a girl?
No. Too hard to keep
'em in my line of work.
It's getting so
I can't remember what
a woman looks like.
Well, I can.
And that's worse.
So, you've been
with the sarge since
North Africa, huh?
Algeria, yeah.
You think he can
get us out
of this mess?
If anyone can, it's the sarge.
Well, I don't want
to raise any hackles
around here,
but he ain't
the friendliest guy
I've ever met.
Sarge doesn't try
to make friends because
he doesn't like losing them.
Thanks.
Who's Velma?
You ask a lot of
questions, mister.
I'm a reporter, mister.
Is she the wife?
Velma was a girl
from the neighborhood.
She beat the crap
out of Mittens
in the first grade.
Is that true?
If I was a kraut,
you'd all be dead.
Less mouth, more ears.
Verona, watch.
Yes, sir.
Mittens?
I know it's you.
Now, cut it out.
Big lummox.
Mittens!
You starting to get my goat.
What is it?
It's nothing,
I just thought I'd...
Then back to your post!
Sure, I just gotta
do something first.
Damn, it's cold.
Sun will be up soon.
Have some coffee, son.
Thanks.
Mr. Dolan, have you seen
many guys crack up?
You know...
Battle fatigue, shell-shock.
Too many.
Last night, I could've
sworn I saw something.
Something weird.
Go on.
There was this man in the dark.
Well...
Not exactly a man.
More like a...
Like a monster.
These big eyes
and this great
big, hairy head.
And there was
this sticky egg, see.
Only, when I went
back to go look for it,
it was gone.
I'm going crackers.
Mr. Dolan, I'm going
crackers, ain't I?
Hell, no, son.
You probably saw
a moose or something.
A moose, yeah, sure.
That's right, a moose.
It was pretty dark.
And I don't feel crazy.
Of course not.
Listen, this is a new one
on me too.
Getting stuck behind
kraut lines like this.
Hell, even the sarge
himself is sweating it.
He only went to sleep
a few minutes ago.
Been up all night.
You're up, Dolan.
Okay.
I saw a deer. Boy,
what I wouldn't give
for a fresh piece of meat.
So, let's bag it.
Nah. Can't go
shooting' up the woods.
Nobody can trace one shot.
You can drop a deer
with one shot?
Hey, back home
they call me,
"Bull's-eye Dolan."
Where'd you spot him, Mittens?
Let me check with
the sarge first.
No, wait. Let him sleep.
Come on, he just got to sleep.
He's not gonna complain
about a steak breakfast.
Okay, one shot.
That's the limit.
Mittens, I don't
know about this.
It was right here.
Standing in the moonlight.
A statue, like he was
king of the forest
or something.
He was taking a dump.
Look, he had something
to eat right here.
He headed off
right across that way.
Probably towards water.
What are you, part Indian?
Yeah. My uncle's
Mahatma Gandhi.
Wise guy.
Okay,
that's two men on, two out,
bottom of the ninth.
Stan the man, it's up to you,
or the cards are sunk.
It's the wind-up, the pitch.
Home run! The crowd goes wild!
You know, kid.
I've seen a lot
of screwballs come
through my outfit,
you take the cake, Verona.
Gee whiz, Sarge.
How else am I gonna get
to see the World Series.
What time is it?
You should have
woke me.
Dolan said not to.
"Dolan said." "Dolan said?"
Where is that pencil pusher?
He went hunting.
Hunting what, soldier?
Deer. Mittens seen a deer.
Let me get this straight.
We're ten miles
behind German lines,
and Mittens and Dolan
are on safari?
What's next?
Schnapps at
Il Duce's hunting lodge?
Saddle up. Now!
Yes, sir.
Son of a bitch! Get that!
Do you hear something?
Yeah, it's coming
from over there.
Holy smokes!
Now, what
the hell are the SS
doing out here?
Who cares? Let's beat it.
Wait a minute. Wait.
The camp's deserted.
Where's the rest of them?
Looking for us. Come on!
No, no. Wait.
That's impossible.
This is the kraut elite.
These are the big boys.
They don't mess around
with common joes
like us. No, that's...
Something big is up down there.
-Maneuvers.
-Maneuvers?
Ten miles from the front?
I don't buy that.
Neither do you.
Come on.
Let's get a closer look.
No.
It's deserted, Mittens.
Listen, Dolan.
I went along with
your stupid deer hunt,
but this is where
I draw the line.
I am not marching
into no SS camp
so you can scoop
a story, got it?
All right, Corporal.
I'm crazy, I'm nuts!
I'm sorry!
All right, come on.
-Wait a minute.
-What now?
I'd like to take a leak.
Okay, but shake
it up, will you?
You got it.
Damn it!
Mittens should have
known better.
Dolan talked him
into it, Sarge.
Maybe they got lost.
Boy, it'd be easy
enough out here.
This place gives me
the willies.
All them big, creepy trees.
Like a fairy tale or something.
Come on.
I'll tell you one thing,
they don't show up
by sundown,
you and I head back, alone.
You can't just write
Mittens off like that.
What if he's in trouble?
Joey, you okay?
Yeah, yeah.
But, what's that thing?
I don't know.
Looks like it was burned.
What, is it hot?
No.
Cold. So cold, it hurt.
Funny-looking gizmo.
Part of an engine, maybe?
I don't know.
But I don't like it. Come on!
Double-time it, Dolan.
Dolan!
Son of a bitch.
What the hell is this?
Some kind of Nazi
secret weapon?
My God.
Hey, Sarge.
There's more of this junk
all over the place.
And the tops of them
trees look like something
smacked right through 'em.
Verona, I got better things
to worry about than
some damn plane crash.
I lost my entire squad
out here and I don't
even know where here is.
Well, how's about I take a hike
up that hill, take a look,
see what I can see, huh?
Yeah, you do that.
Sarge! You better
come up here! Quick!
I really think
you should see
this! I really do.
What is it?
Jesus Christ.
You're one dumb lug.
Move out.
-What about this stuff?
-Leave 'em, damn it!
Come on!
Uh-oh!
Hey!
Jeez, it must have been huge.
What do you think?
Some kind of new zeppelin?
I don't know.
I've never seen markings like those.
Probably some
kraut secret weapon.
It could be ours.
Or it might be...
Might be what, Joey?
Nothing, nothing.
Best way to find out
is to get inside.
There's gotta be
some way to get
this open.
Gosh!
Stand back!
This thing's still ticking.
There might be survivors.
Like a steam bath
in here!
Sounds like pistons.
We must be over the engine.
Hey, there's a door up ahead.
Watch your step, Joey!
Ah, it'll hold us.
Hang on!
Hang on, Joey!
Hang on, kid.
Thanks, Sarge!
We're getting out!
But we just got here.
We gotta take
a look around.
Who do you suppose
built this getup?
I don't know,
but it wasn't
the Army Air Corps!
Take a look at it!
It's humming like
an engine!
Listen, I say,
we bail out of here!
-She could blow any minute!
-Come on, Sarge!
Where's your sense
of adventure?
Joey!
Joey, you okay?
Yeah, just a sec.
Sarge!
Jesus, what's that smell?
It's him.
Him, who?
My God.
What is it?
He looks just like
the guy I saw last
night on watch.
I thought I was nuts.
I was afraid to tell you.
Don't you see, Sarge?
We're on a rocket ship
or something from Mars.
Mars, nothing.
Get with it, Joey.
It's some kind of animal.
Crazy Nazi experiment.
They're doing it
all the time.
Incredible, we gotta
get a light on here
or something.
Don't touch anything.
Don't touch--
That's swell, Verona.
At least I got the lights on.
Look, this chair's
empty, right?
That's the co-pilot
running around out
there in the woods.
Look like re-con photos. Huh.
These guys must
be taking pictures.
That stiff is making me sick!
-We gotta get
this door open.
-Leave it to me.
No, no! Don't do anything.
You've done enough damage.
Stand back.
Some kind of periscope, maybe?
It wasn't made for
a human head, Sarge.
See anything?
Yeah.
The colors are all screwy.
What's going on?
- Let me have a look.
- No, I see, hold it!
Krauts!
Lousy, stinking krauts!
It's no use.
I've tried every button
and switch there is.
They're inside.
Sounds like there's
50 of them out there.
We got plenty ammo.
Come on, Verona.
Think like a Martian.
There's got to be
an escape hatch
around here somewhere.
That stupid thing.
I feel fresh air. It's a vent.
Sarge, that kraut on the bike.
Not now, Verona.
We gotta figure a way
to blow this ship.
Are you crazy?
I know you don't
believe it,
but I'm dead sure
this is a rocket ship
from outer space.
You're out of line, soldier.
Maybe so.
But if I'm right, this is big.
Bigger than the whole
war. Think of it.
Another planet.
Another civilization.
Listen! If the krauts want
this thing, it goes.
That's our job.
That's our duty.
Yes, sir.
I figure we drop
a pineapple in that tailpipe.
Shake that engine up real good.
We gotta move now
while they're bottled
up inside. Let's go!
Let it fly, kid!
Sarge, the krauts
that got away had
Dolan's lighter.
Maybe they did get
Mittens and Dolan.
If we're lucky,
that bike will cut
a path through the woods
so we can follow.
Come on, Joey.
Hey, Fritz, Fritz.
What's all the commotion going on out there?
Huh?
What is it?
The big airship
you guys shot down?
We're hip to you!
Can it, Dolan. You're not gonna
stop until you get us
both killed, are you?
Au contraire,
my thick-knuckled corporal.
The way I figure it is,
if the Germans think we
know something they don't,
maybe they'll keep us alive.
For how long?
Well, who cares?
As long as we're not dead.
Hey, Hans! Hans!
It's colder than
a penguin's ass out here.
How about a couple of blankets?
Drop it, will you?
Let's get some shut-eye.
I can't sleep in
this cage, Mitts.
Yeah? Well, the way I see it...
If I'm sleeping, I ain't here.
Well, I have
to keep talking to stay warm.
Besides, my arm's killing me.
Hey, Hans.
Under the terms
of the Geneva Convention,
you are required to treat
prisoners of war by
giving them warm food,
adequate shelter
and everything else
That goes along
with that convention.
Do you...
You're off my
Christmas list, pal.
I mean that.
-What's going on?
-Get out!
I am Colonel Manheim.
You will be questioned, now.
Wait. Wait a minute, wait!
I'm an American correspondent.
A civilian journalist.
You can't do this
to me, don't you...
Mattinski, George R.
Corporal, United States Army.
Jesus!
You ain't nothing, kraut-head.
Is that all you got?
Stop it, damn it!
I'll talk.
Now, you're showing reason.
What do you know
about the rocket,
and where are
the rest of
your soldiers?
Don't be a sap.
- I can take it.
- Well?
Dolan, Charles Francis.
Civilian correspondent,
St. Louis Post-Dispatch, USA.
Serial number C19717139.
Francis?
Mittens? Mittens?
Come, come, up!
What are you gonna
do with me?
In God's name,
what the hell is that?
What do you know about this?
What, are you nuts?
I don't know nothing
about this.
You have never seen
the creature before?
Not a chance, pal.
Believe me, I'd remember.
You are lying.
This is only becoming
more difficult, Mr. Dolan.
I'm not lying. I'm not lying!
DeinFuehrer.
Heil,Hitler.
Heil,Hitler.
Pinch me, Dolan.
Did I just KO Hitler?
You sure did, champ.
Too bad we won't
live to tell about it.
Hey, Hans!
Shut these dogs up, will ya?
I need my beauty sleep.
Shh!
Verona, how'd you get here?
Where's the sergeant?
Don't talk, just listen.
Me and the Sarge got a plan.
We're busting you out.
They had this
bug-head guy in there.
A spaceman, too.
Hey, Joey.
Mittens! You okay?
In the pink.
I decked Hitler.
That bad, huh?
Nix, here comes that fat kraut.
Damn.
Ja, ja.
Uh, ja, ja.
Ja.
Ja.
The jig's up!
We gotta make
for the truck.
Dolan!
Heil,Hitler.
Mittens, now!
Hang on!
I got a present for you.
Velma!
So long, Fritz.
Duck!
Gosh, thanks.
Yank the distributor cap.
We'll leave the krauts
a nice roadblock.
What's up, Sarge?
We gotta ditch the truck.
We'll never make it
past that checkpoint.
-Where are we?
-We're almost home.
Ever since we blew
that ship, the compass
has been working.
Dolan, you'll need this.
Mittens, Dolan. Joey!
All right, Mac,
you're coming with us.
What's that face mean?
Why, it's one of them
tombs my grandfather
told me about.
They're all over Italy.
Great, we'll hole
up here for the night.
Dolan, Bug.
What's eating you?
Nothing.
I got respect for
the dead, that's all.
Ain't no stiffs
in there, Mittens,
the robbers cleaned
them out years ago.
Why doesn't
he do anything?
What would you like
him to do, Mittens,
beg for peanuts?
No, he just sits
there, that's all.
Yeah.
What a story.
I'd give a million bucks
to know what's going on
inside that noodle of his.
Maybe nothing,
maybe he's sleeping.
Hey, you guys,
quit crowding him.
-So, you find the
packs okay?
-Yeah, right where we left 'em.
How's he doing?
Who can tell?
Joey, break out the rations.
Yeah, I'm starving.
Dolan, let's take a walk.
What for?
Joey, what'll it be?
Goulash or SOS?
Both, we got company.
Hey, Joey, where do
you think he's from?
Venus, maybe?
Get smart, Mittens.
Anybody knows
there's no life on Venus.
He's got to be from Mars.
Mars.
What's on your mind?
This whole stinking
mess and where
you fit in.
-I don't get you.
-Then I'll spell
it out for you.
Two days ago, command
drops you in my lap.
No reason given.
Next thing I know,
I got a half a spaceship,
a six-foot-tall
grasshopper and the kraut
elite on my butt.
I know, it's crazy, ain't it?
Cough it up, news hound.
Who sent you?
Army intelligence? OSS?
Ike knows about this.
Roosevelt, too, right?
Boy, are you off the beam.
Sure, I had command
keep you in the dark,
but I came here
to write about you.
The Iron Sarge.
-What?
-It's true, Stone.
Whether you like it or not,
you're becoming a legend
with all these GI's.
I've heard you've been
killed a dozen times
but you always come back.
Unless you want
your name printed
on a pack of lies,
you've got nothing
to print, Dolan.
I'm just another dog-face
fighting this lousy war.
The boss says,
"Come home."
Come on, Dolan,
let's head back.
What's all this crud
about Mittens decking Hitler?
He really did.
You should've seen it.
No dice in the lima beans.
Hell, Joey,
even we don't eat those.
He drank some
water at least.
Anything else
in the pack?
Nope.
Wait a minute.
It's my lucky day.
Hey, what the...
He's eating it?
He's eating it.
He likes tobacco.
-Give him another one.
-Forget it.
Don't be stingy, Mittens.
What is that?
He wants to swap.
Hey, wait a minute.
Joey, you okay?
Look.
Hello, soldier.
I'm dreaming.
I don't think so.
Gosh.
Hi.
Lay off, lunkhead.
You're cramping my style.
I'm on a roll.
Hand it over.
Let's see if we can
get a blonde in here.
Now, you've done it,
you big ox! Why, for
two cents, I'll...
Holy...
Easy, Bug.
It was an accident.
I think he's talking.
Don't shoot, Sarge,
he's trying to
tell us something.
What's he saying?
Maybe that he's a soldier
from outer space.
It gives me all
the more reason
to tie him up.
You can't do that.
He's not an animal.
He's an intelligent being!
He just showed us that.
Listen, Joey.
It's for his own good.
If he runs off again,
the krauts could grab him.
Look, he's scared.
Sure, he's scared.
A million miles from home.
Lost in a strange land,
doesn't speak the language.
People trying to kill him.
Sound familiar?
What are you looking at?
Guess he makes
those eggs to sleep in.
Looks like he chewed
right through it.
Charlie, you were on watch.
Didn't you see anything?
Sorry.
All right, gear up.
We're gonna have
to go after him.
Which way?
Let's say northeast,
toward his rocket ship.
Yeah, he doesn't
know you blew it up.
He couldn't have
gotten too far.
Hold it.
What the hell is that?
Stand back.
It's like something
out of the World's Fair.
Come on.
Wow!
Now, just what in
the hell army are
you people with, huh?
They're from outer space.
It's obvious.
Joseph Verona, planet Earth.
Pleased to meet you.
The name's Mattinski,
but call me Mitten.
Mittens, Joey,
as you were, damn it.
How do we know
this ain't some
kraut trick, huh?
That gizmo in his ear
must be a translator.
Where are you people from?
Wait a minute.
Wait, my God, I've
got a million questions.
What's it like up there?
How do them ray guns work?
Do you have any women with you,
like blondes from Venus, maybe?
The Thrachian is a female.
Jeez.
We never thought of that.
You're welcome, sir.
Ma'am.
Then, it's so long,
suckers, right?
My men risked their butts
for Jiminy Cricket here
and you just take off?
Return the favor, damn it.
Help us get back
to our lines.
Your little visit has cut
the whole Kraut army
loose in these woods.
Sarge!
Take cover, guys!
Verona!
Get down!
Get down!
You gotta get out
of the way! Come on!
Jesus.
Mittens! They got Joey!
Oh!
You'll be okay, Joey.
We'll get you home.
Mr. Dolan.
I'm right here, kid.
Never got that interview,
did we, boy?
You're gonna write
about all this,
ain't you?
Sure, kid. Sure.
So, the guys
at home will know...
Joey Verona met
the men from space.
Shouldn't we say
a prayer or something?
No, it's too late for that.
You'd think with
all they must know,
them rocket guys
could've done
something for Joey.
Sergeant, sergeant.
Kraut platoon strike
coming in from
the southwest.
Move.
Hey, put your
radio in your ear.
Radio in your ear.
The enemy is on their way
and they're looking for you.
Listen, I figured
the eight of us can
catch them in the meadow
with those fancy ray guns...
We will not help you
kill your own kind.
The Nazis ain't our kind, pal.
Forget it, Mittens.
We'll just have to reach
that meadow by ourselves.
Just the three of us?
It's like I told Joey.
If the Krauts want
something, it's our job
to keep them from it.
Mittens, Charlie.
What do you think
they'll do now, Sergeant?
Throw a squad in our
face and another one
on the back end.
-How's the ammo?
-Last clip.
Likewise. What about grenades?
One, and I'm saving it.
Listen, we got to hold
those krauts till
that rocket takes off.
-I'm dry.
-Me too.
Now, what?
My men are out of ammo!
I wanna talk surrender
with your commanding officer!
I'd as soon kill you
and be done with it.
But, if you lead us
to the creature,
I will give you
and your men
free passage to your lines.
You've got a deal, Fritzy.
Let's shake on it.
My God, he really did it.
Yeah.
He gave us a chance.
Let's take it.
I ain't leaving
without the sarge.
There's nothing left, Mittens.
Tough luck, Dolan.
Looks like we've all
bought the farm.
Did you see that?
-Where'd it come from?
-I don't know.
Thanks.
Hey, how do you
work this thing?
Dolan, grab it like this.
All right then. Let's
show the Hun what
this puppy can do.
If we had 100 of these
pea shooters, our boys
would be home by Christmas.
I wouldn't start buying
that plum pudding yet, pal.
No, no, there's too
many of them, no.
That's cooking, bug-head.
Yes, sir.
So, now it's back
to the heavens.
Well...
Thanks for
saving our butts.
Thanks, Bug.
Dolan.
Well,
the way I figure it,
our lines are right
up this road here.
Looks like
we finally made it.
Yep. Listen to me.
-Listen, Dolan. you got
to write about this.
-Yeah.
You gotta do it
for Sarge and Joey.
Well, I've been
thinking about that
and you know what?
What?
-I can't do it.
-Why not?
Because there's not
one shred of evidence.
I mean, my editor would
throw me in the loony bin.
If I were you, I'd watch
telling that tale about
socking Hitler, too.
I mean, who's gonna
buy that one, huh?
Write about it anyway.
I don't know.
Sell it to one of
Joey's crazy magazines.
-That's worth a try.
-Yeah.
Last one.
Look.
What's he doing?
He's not shooting.
Well, I'll be damned.
Butt me, Mittens.
Gentlemen.
Move out.
Joey!
-Hey, Joey!
-What gives, Mittens?
I'm reading here.
You still got that book
with them blonde dames
from space?
-Pirate Women of Venus?
-That's the one.
Sorry, pal.
Swapped it to a guy
in G-squad.
For a pack of Luckies.
Nuts! It had a swell cover.
Say, Verona,
you don't smoke.
How about them Luckies?
Thought you'd never ask.
That's gonna cost you
every candy bar you got.
All of 'em?
Smell that fine
Virginia tobacco?
Hand 'em over.
How's that ankle, Philips?
This cold ain't
doing it no good.
What I really need
out here is a nurse.
Yeah, me too, doc.
Me too.
Snowman to Scotty one!
Snowman to Scotty one!
Scotty, where the hell are you?
I still can't reach
him, Sarge.
All I get is this junk.
I tell you, it's weird.
I've never heard
anything like it.
Keep trying.
Snowman to Scotty one,
do you read me?
Ferguson, let me
see your compass.
Sure.
Thanks.
Hey, Sarge, how long
are we gonna stay here?
Forward, march!
Hey, boys!
Hold it just
like that.
Perfect!
Who the hell are you?
Yeah, where'd you come from?
I hooked up with
your outfit this morning.
Charlie Dolan.
The Charlie Dolan?
Afraid so.
He's the writer guy.
All the big papers
print his stuff.
Yeah, I know.
Corporal Mattinski.
Nice to meet you.
Nice to meet you.
Jeez, Mr. Dolan.
You gonna do
a story on us?
Something like that, son.
Hey, corporal.
Mind if I bum a smoke
from you? Thank you.
Say, is that
the Zippo General Patton
give ya?
-Sure is.
-Wow!
Thanks for the smoke.
See you later.
Say, Mr. Dolan.
You didn't get the name.
PFC, Joseph Verona.
Fort Lee, New Jersey.
Okay, Joey, you got it.
Take it easy.
Son of Angelo and Rose Verona.
Hey, Sergeant Stone.
Charlie Dolan.
Yeah, I know.
How about that interview, huh?
Later!
-Butt me, Mittens.
-Sure, Sarge.
So, how are we doing?
Hey, Mittens,
you got cigarettes?
Sir, I don't think
we can hold off the
other squads any longer.
I think they're lost.
What's more,
the radio's not working.
Something's not right.
I say we walk now,
Lieutenant.
Listen up, Sergeant.
I've been taking
your guff all morning long.
I'm in charge here
and it's high time you
started listening to me.
There. There, you see?
There they are, now.
Lieutenant, I wouldn't...
Damn green kid.
Take cover!
Pull out!
Red Cross! Red corps.
More coming.
-We gotta get
out of here.
-Joey, 10 o'clock!
Matin! Make for the woods!
Let's go!
Come on!
Sarge!
They got the sarge.
No, look!
What are you
waiting for? More krauts?
Where are the rest of our guys?
We're it! Move!
Okay, I think
we're in the clear.
Boy, Sarge, I crossed
you off that time.
I guess it's true.
Nothing seems to kill
the Iron Sarge.
What'd I say?
I don't wanna hear
that ration of bull
from you or anybody.
You know what
saved my neck? This.
Helmet. Steel.
GI, Olive Drab.
Government issue.
Nothing else.
Not luck. Not magic,
not my guardian angel.
Understood?
Gentlemen, move out.
Mittens, point.
The radio bought it
with Ferguson, Sarge.
Did you check it out?
Made sure it couldn't be salvaged?
No, sir. I did not.
Damn it, Mittens.
What the hell were
you thinking about?
I was thinking of my pals
laying dead back there.
I was thinking of you
turning down that
battlefield commission.
If you had been
in charge, instead of
that baby-faced lieutenant,
we would've never
gotten ambushed.
So, that's how you figure it?
That's how I figure it.
What commission was that?
What the hell are you doing?
Taking notes.
Ah, that's swell.
Say, fellas,
how much farther
are we gonna hike?
My dogs are screaming.
Damnedest thing I ever saw.
Compass won't settle.
Probably some new
kraut secret weapon.
Magnetic ray, perhaps?
Get a load of Buck Rogers.
Could be an iron ore deposit.
Where do you figure
we are, Sergeant?
I don't know.
Somewhere behind
enemy lines.
You know, it's funny.
You know, these woods.
We could just
easily be in Illinois.
Yeah, till you get
popped by a sniper.
Sniper? No!
We're in too deep!
Ain't nothing out here
but us and the bears.
Fire!
Mortar!
What happened?
Could have been lightning, huh?
Weird.
Wife and kid?
They were once.
How long's it been
since you've seen 'em?
Two years.
Only family I got now
are Sarge and Joey.
What about you? Got a girl?
No. Too hard to keep
'em in my line of work.
It's getting so
I can't remember what
a woman looks like.
Well, I can.
And that's worse.
So, you've been
with the sarge since
North Africa, huh?
Algeria, yeah.
You think he can
get us out
of this mess?
If anyone can, it's the sarge.
Well, I don't want
to raise any hackles
around here,
but he ain't
the friendliest guy
I've ever met.
Sarge doesn't try
to make friends because
he doesn't like losing them.
Thanks.
Who's Velma?
You ask a lot of
questions, mister.
I'm a reporter, mister.
Is she the wife?
Velma was a girl
from the neighborhood.
She beat the crap
out of Mittens
in the first grade.
Is that true?
If I was a kraut,
you'd all be dead.
Less mouth, more ears.
Verona, watch.
Yes, sir.
Mittens?
I know it's you.
Now, cut it out.
Big lummox.
Mittens!
You starting to get my goat.
What is it?
It's nothing,
I just thought I'd...
Then back to your post!
Sure, I just gotta
do something first.
Damn, it's cold.
Sun will be up soon.
Have some coffee, son.
Thanks.
Mr. Dolan, have you seen
many guys crack up?
You know...
Battle fatigue, shell-shock.
Too many.
Last night, I could've
sworn I saw something.
Something weird.
Go on.
There was this man in the dark.
Well...
Not exactly a man.
More like a...
Like a monster.
These big eyes
and this great
big, hairy head.
And there was
this sticky egg, see.
Only, when I went
back to go look for it,
it was gone.
I'm going crackers.
Mr. Dolan, I'm going
crackers, ain't I?
Hell, no, son.
You probably saw
a moose or something.
A moose, yeah, sure.
That's right, a moose.
It was pretty dark.
And I don't feel crazy.
Of course not.
Listen, this is a new one
on me too.
Getting stuck behind
kraut lines like this.
Hell, even the sarge
himself is sweating it.
He only went to sleep
a few minutes ago.
Been up all night.
You're up, Dolan.
Okay.
I saw a deer. Boy,
what I wouldn't give
for a fresh piece of meat.
So, let's bag it.
Nah. Can't go
shooting' up the woods.
Nobody can trace one shot.
You can drop a deer
with one shot?
Hey, back home
they call me,
"Bull's-eye Dolan."
Where'd you spot him, Mittens?
Let me check with
the sarge first.
No, wait. Let him sleep.
Come on, he just got to sleep.
He's not gonna complain
about a steak breakfast.
Okay, one shot.
That's the limit.
Mittens, I don't
know about this.
It was right here.
Standing in the moonlight.
A statue, like he was
king of the forest
or something.
He was taking a dump.
Look, he had something
to eat right here.
He headed off
right across that way.
Probably towards water.
What are you, part Indian?
Yeah. My uncle's
Mahatma Gandhi.
Wise guy.
Okay,
that's two men on, two out,
bottom of the ninth.
Stan the man, it's up to you,
or the cards are sunk.
It's the wind-up, the pitch.
Home run! The crowd goes wild!
You know, kid.
I've seen a lot
of screwballs come
through my outfit,
you take the cake, Verona.
Gee whiz, Sarge.
How else am I gonna get
to see the World Series.
What time is it?
You should have
woke me.
Dolan said not to.
"Dolan said." "Dolan said?"
Where is that pencil pusher?
He went hunting.
Hunting what, soldier?
Deer. Mittens seen a deer.
Let me get this straight.
We're ten miles
behind German lines,
and Mittens and Dolan
are on safari?
What's next?
Schnapps at
Il Duce's hunting lodge?
Saddle up. Now!
Yes, sir.
Son of a bitch! Get that!
Do you hear something?
Yeah, it's coming
from over there.
Holy smokes!
Now, what
the hell are the SS
doing out here?
Who cares? Let's beat it.
Wait a minute. Wait.
The camp's deserted.
Where's the rest of them?
Looking for us. Come on!
No, no. Wait.
That's impossible.
This is the kraut elite.
These are the big boys.
They don't mess around
with common joes
like us. No, that's...
Something big is up down there.
-Maneuvers.
-Maneuvers?
Ten miles from the front?
I don't buy that.
Neither do you.
Come on.
Let's get a closer look.
No.
It's deserted, Mittens.
Listen, Dolan.
I went along with
your stupid deer hunt,
but this is where
I draw the line.
I am not marching
into no SS camp
so you can scoop
a story, got it?
All right, Corporal.
I'm crazy, I'm nuts!
I'm sorry!
All right, come on.
-Wait a minute.
-What now?
I'd like to take a leak.
Okay, but shake
it up, will you?
You got it.
Damn it!
Mittens should have
known better.
Dolan talked him
into it, Sarge.
Maybe they got lost.
Boy, it'd be easy
enough out here.
This place gives me
the willies.
All them big, creepy trees.
Like a fairy tale or something.
Come on.
I'll tell you one thing,
they don't show up
by sundown,
you and I head back, alone.
You can't just write
Mittens off like that.
What if he's in trouble?
Joey, you okay?
Yeah, yeah.
But, what's that thing?
I don't know.
Looks like it was burned.
What, is it hot?
No.
Cold. So cold, it hurt.
Funny-looking gizmo.
Part of an engine, maybe?
I don't know.
But I don't like it. Come on!
Double-time it, Dolan.
Dolan!
Son of a bitch.
What the hell is this?
Some kind of Nazi
secret weapon?
My God.
Hey, Sarge.
There's more of this junk
all over the place.
And the tops of them
trees look like something
smacked right through 'em.
Verona, I got better things
to worry about than
some damn plane crash.
I lost my entire squad
out here and I don't
even know where here is.
Well, how's about I take a hike
up that hill, take a look,
see what I can see, huh?
Yeah, you do that.
Sarge! You better
come up here! Quick!
I really think
you should see
this! I really do.
What is it?
Jesus Christ.
You're one dumb lug.
Move out.
-What about this stuff?
-Leave 'em, damn it!
Come on!
Uh-oh!
Hey!
Jeez, it must have been huge.
What do you think?
Some kind of new zeppelin?
I don't know.
I've never seen markings like those.
Probably some
kraut secret weapon.
It could be ours.
Or it might be...
Might be what, Joey?
Nothing, nothing.
Best way to find out
is to get inside.
There's gotta be
some way to get
this open.
Gosh!
Stand back!
This thing's still ticking.
There might be survivors.
Like a steam bath
in here!
Sounds like pistons.
We must be over the engine.
Hey, there's a door up ahead.
Watch your step, Joey!
Ah, it'll hold us.
Hang on!
Hang on, Joey!
Hang on, kid.
Thanks, Sarge!
We're getting out!
But we just got here.
We gotta take
a look around.
Who do you suppose
built this getup?
I don't know,
but it wasn't
the Army Air Corps!
Take a look at it!
It's humming like
an engine!
Listen, I say,
we bail out of here!
-She could blow any minute!
-Come on, Sarge!
Where's your sense
of adventure?
Joey!
Joey, you okay?
Yeah, just a sec.
Sarge!
Jesus, what's that smell?
It's him.
Him, who?
My God.
What is it?
He looks just like
the guy I saw last
night on watch.
I thought I was nuts.
I was afraid to tell you.
Don't you see, Sarge?
We're on a rocket ship
or something from Mars.
Mars, nothing.
Get with it, Joey.
It's some kind of animal.
Crazy Nazi experiment.
They're doing it
all the time.
Incredible, we gotta
get a light on here
or something.
Don't touch anything.
Don't touch--
That's swell, Verona.
At least I got the lights on.
Look, this chair's
empty, right?
That's the co-pilot
running around out
there in the woods.
Look like re-con photos. Huh.
These guys must
be taking pictures.
That stiff is making me sick!
-We gotta get
this door open.
-Leave it to me.
No, no! Don't do anything.
You've done enough damage.
Stand back.
Some kind of periscope, maybe?
It wasn't made for
a human head, Sarge.
See anything?
Yeah.
The colors are all screwy.
What's going on?
- Let me have a look.
- No, I see, hold it!
Krauts!
Lousy, stinking krauts!
It's no use.
I've tried every button
and switch there is.
They're inside.
Sounds like there's
50 of them out there.
We got plenty ammo.
Come on, Verona.
Think like a Martian.
There's got to be
an escape hatch
around here somewhere.
That stupid thing.
I feel fresh air. It's a vent.
Sarge, that kraut on the bike.
Not now, Verona.
We gotta figure a way
to blow this ship.
Are you crazy?
I know you don't
believe it,
but I'm dead sure
this is a rocket ship
from outer space.
You're out of line, soldier.
Maybe so.
But if I'm right, this is big.
Bigger than the whole
war. Think of it.
Another planet.
Another civilization.
Listen! If the krauts want
this thing, it goes.
That's our job.
That's our duty.
Yes, sir.
I figure we drop
a pineapple in that tailpipe.
Shake that engine up real good.
We gotta move now
while they're bottled
up inside. Let's go!
Let it fly, kid!
Sarge, the krauts
that got away had
Dolan's lighter.
Maybe they did get
Mittens and Dolan.
If we're lucky,
that bike will cut
a path through the woods
so we can follow.
Come on, Joey.
Hey, Fritz, Fritz.
What's all the commotion going on out there?
Huh?
What is it?
The big airship
you guys shot down?
We're hip to you!
Can it, Dolan. You're not gonna
stop until you get us
both killed, are you?
Au contraire,
my thick-knuckled corporal.
The way I figure it is,
if the Germans think we
know something they don't,
maybe they'll keep us alive.
For how long?
Well, who cares?
As long as we're not dead.
Hey, Hans! Hans!
It's colder than
a penguin's ass out here.
How about a couple of blankets?
Drop it, will you?
Let's get some shut-eye.
I can't sleep in
this cage, Mitts.
Yeah? Well, the way I see it...
If I'm sleeping, I ain't here.
Well, I have
to keep talking to stay warm.
Besides, my arm's killing me.
Hey, Hans.
Under the terms
of the Geneva Convention,
you are required to treat
prisoners of war by
giving them warm food,
adequate shelter
and everything else
That goes along
with that convention.
Do you...
You're off my
Christmas list, pal.
I mean that.
-What's going on?
-Get out!
I am Colonel Manheim.
You will be questioned, now.
Wait. Wait a minute, wait!
I'm an American correspondent.
A civilian journalist.
You can't do this
to me, don't you...
Mattinski, George R.
Corporal, United States Army.
Jesus!
You ain't nothing, kraut-head.
Is that all you got?
Stop it, damn it!
I'll talk.
Now, you're showing reason.
What do you know
about the rocket,
and where are
the rest of
your soldiers?
Don't be a sap.
- I can take it.
- Well?
Dolan, Charles Francis.
Civilian correspondent,
St. Louis Post-Dispatch, USA.
Serial number C19717139.
Francis?
Mittens? Mittens?
Come, come, up!
What are you gonna
do with me?
In God's name,
what the hell is that?
What do you know about this?
What, are you nuts?
I don't know nothing
about this.
You have never seen
the creature before?
Not a chance, pal.
Believe me, I'd remember.
You are lying.
This is only becoming
more difficult, Mr. Dolan.
I'm not lying. I'm not lying!
DeinFuehrer.
Heil,Hitler.
Heil,Hitler.
Pinch me, Dolan.
Did I just KO Hitler?
You sure did, champ.
Too bad we won't
live to tell about it.
Hey, Hans!
Shut these dogs up, will ya?
I need my beauty sleep.
Shh!
Verona, how'd you get here?
Where's the sergeant?
Don't talk, just listen.
Me and the Sarge got a plan.
We're busting you out.
They had this
bug-head guy in there.
A spaceman, too.
Hey, Joey.
Mittens! You okay?
In the pink.
I decked Hitler.
That bad, huh?
Nix, here comes that fat kraut.
Damn.
Ja, ja.
Uh, ja, ja.
Ja.
Ja.
The jig's up!
We gotta make
for the truck.
Dolan!
Heil,Hitler.
Mittens, now!
Hang on!
I got a present for you.
Velma!
So long, Fritz.
Duck!
Gosh, thanks.
Yank the distributor cap.
We'll leave the krauts
a nice roadblock.
What's up, Sarge?
We gotta ditch the truck.
We'll never make it
past that checkpoint.
-Where are we?
-We're almost home.
Ever since we blew
that ship, the compass
has been working.
Dolan, you'll need this.
Mittens, Dolan. Joey!
All right, Mac,
you're coming with us.
What's that face mean?
Why, it's one of them
tombs my grandfather
told me about.
They're all over Italy.
Great, we'll hole
up here for the night.
Dolan, Bug.
What's eating you?
Nothing.
I got respect for
the dead, that's all.
Ain't no stiffs
in there, Mittens,
the robbers cleaned
them out years ago.
Why doesn't
he do anything?
What would you like
him to do, Mittens,
beg for peanuts?
No, he just sits
there, that's all.
Yeah.
What a story.
I'd give a million bucks
to know what's going on
inside that noodle of his.
Maybe nothing,
maybe he's sleeping.
Hey, you guys,
quit crowding him.
-So, you find the
packs okay?
-Yeah, right where we left 'em.
How's he doing?
Who can tell?
Joey, break out the rations.
Yeah, I'm starving.
Dolan, let's take a walk.
What for?
Joey, what'll it be?
Goulash or SOS?
Both, we got company.
Hey, Joey, where do
you think he's from?
Venus, maybe?
Get smart, Mittens.
Anybody knows
there's no life on Venus.
He's got to be from Mars.
Mars.
What's on your mind?
This whole stinking
mess and where
you fit in.
-I don't get you.
-Then I'll spell
it out for you.
Two days ago, command
drops you in my lap.
No reason given.
Next thing I know,
I got a half a spaceship,
a six-foot-tall
grasshopper and the kraut
elite on my butt.
I know, it's crazy, ain't it?
Cough it up, news hound.
Who sent you?
Army intelligence? OSS?
Ike knows about this.
Roosevelt, too, right?
Boy, are you off the beam.
Sure, I had command
keep you in the dark,
but I came here
to write about you.
The Iron Sarge.
-What?
-It's true, Stone.
Whether you like it or not,
you're becoming a legend
with all these GI's.
I've heard you've been
killed a dozen times
but you always come back.
Unless you want
your name printed
on a pack of lies,
you've got nothing
to print, Dolan.
I'm just another dog-face
fighting this lousy war.
The boss says,
"Come home."
Come on, Dolan,
let's head back.
What's all this crud
about Mittens decking Hitler?
He really did.
You should've seen it.
No dice in the lima beans.
Hell, Joey,
even we don't eat those.
He drank some
water at least.
Anything else
in the pack?
Nope.
Wait a minute.
It's my lucky day.
Hey, what the...
He's eating it?
He's eating it.
He likes tobacco.
-Give him another one.
-Forget it.
Don't be stingy, Mittens.
What is that?
He wants to swap.
Hey, wait a minute.
Joey, you okay?
Look.
Hello, soldier.
I'm dreaming.
I don't think so.
Gosh.
Hi.
Lay off, lunkhead.
You're cramping my style.
I'm on a roll.
Hand it over.
Let's see if we can
get a blonde in here.
Now, you've done it,
you big ox! Why, for
two cents, I'll...
Holy...
Easy, Bug.
It was an accident.
I think he's talking.
Don't shoot, Sarge,
he's trying to
tell us something.
What's he saying?
Maybe that he's a soldier
from outer space.
It gives me all
the more reason
to tie him up.
You can't do that.
He's not an animal.
He's an intelligent being!
He just showed us that.
Listen, Joey.
It's for his own good.
If he runs off again,
the krauts could grab him.
Look, he's scared.
Sure, he's scared.
A million miles from home.
Lost in a strange land,
doesn't speak the language.
People trying to kill him.
Sound familiar?
What are you looking at?
Guess he makes
those eggs to sleep in.
Looks like he chewed
right through it.
Charlie, you were on watch.
Didn't you see anything?
Sorry.
All right, gear up.
We're gonna have
to go after him.
Which way?
Let's say northeast,
toward his rocket ship.
Yeah, he doesn't
know you blew it up.
He couldn't have
gotten too far.
Hold it.
What the hell is that?
Stand back.
It's like something
out of the World's Fair.
Come on.
Wow!
Now, just what in
the hell army are
you people with, huh?
They're from outer space.
It's obvious.
Joseph Verona, planet Earth.
Pleased to meet you.
The name's Mattinski,
but call me Mitten.
Mittens, Joey,
as you were, damn it.
How do we know
this ain't some
kraut trick, huh?
That gizmo in his ear
must be a translator.
Where are you people from?
Wait a minute.
Wait, my God, I've
got a million questions.
What's it like up there?
How do them ray guns work?
Do you have any women with you,
like blondes from Venus, maybe?
The Thrachian is a female.
Jeez.
We never thought of that.
You're welcome, sir.
Ma'am.
Then, it's so long,
suckers, right?
My men risked their butts
for Jiminy Cricket here
and you just take off?
Return the favor, damn it.
Help us get back
to our lines.
Your little visit has cut
the whole Kraut army
loose in these woods.
Sarge!
Take cover, guys!
Verona!
Get down!
Get down!
You gotta get out
of the way! Come on!
Jesus.
Mittens! They got Joey!
Oh!
You'll be okay, Joey.
We'll get you home.
Mr. Dolan.
I'm right here, kid.
Never got that interview,
did we, boy?
You're gonna write
about all this,
ain't you?
Sure, kid. Sure.
So, the guys
at home will know...
Joey Verona met
the men from space.
Shouldn't we say
a prayer or something?
No, it's too late for that.
You'd think with
all they must know,
them rocket guys
could've done
something for Joey.
Sergeant, sergeant.
Kraut platoon strike
coming in from
the southwest.
Move.
Hey, put your
radio in your ear.
Radio in your ear.
The enemy is on their way
and they're looking for you.
Listen, I figured
the eight of us can
catch them in the meadow
with those fancy ray guns...
We will not help you
kill your own kind.
The Nazis ain't our kind, pal.
Forget it, Mittens.
We'll just have to reach
that meadow by ourselves.
Just the three of us?
It's like I told Joey.
If the Krauts want
something, it's our job
to keep them from it.
Mittens, Charlie.
What do you think
they'll do now, Sergeant?
Throw a squad in our
face and another one
on the back end.
-How's the ammo?
-Last clip.
Likewise. What about grenades?
One, and I'm saving it.
Listen, we got to hold
those krauts till
that rocket takes off.
-I'm dry.
-Me too.
Now, what?
My men are out of ammo!
I wanna talk surrender
with your commanding officer!
I'd as soon kill you
and be done with it.
But, if you lead us
to the creature,
I will give you
and your men
free passage to your lines.
You've got a deal, Fritzy.
Let's shake on it.
My God, he really did it.
Yeah.
He gave us a chance.
Let's take it.
I ain't leaving
without the sarge.
There's nothing left, Mittens.
Tough luck, Dolan.
Looks like we've all
bought the farm.
Did you see that?
-Where'd it come from?
-I don't know.
Thanks.
Hey, how do you
work this thing?
Dolan, grab it like this.
All right then. Let's
show the Hun what
this puppy can do.
If we had 100 of these
pea shooters, our boys
would be home by Christmas.
I wouldn't start buying
that plum pudding yet, pal.
No, no, there's too
many of them, no.
That's cooking, bug-head.
Yes, sir.
So, now it's back
to the heavens.
Well...
Thanks for
saving our butts.
Thanks, Bug.
Dolan.
Well,
the way I figure it,
our lines are right
up this road here.
Looks like
we finally made it.
Yep. Listen to me.
-Listen, Dolan. you got
to write about this.
-Yeah.
You gotta do it
for Sarge and Joey.
Well, I've been
thinking about that
and you know what?
What?
-I can't do it.
-Why not?
Because there's not
one shred of evidence.
I mean, my editor would
throw me in the loony bin.
If I were you, I'd watch
telling that tale about
socking Hitler, too.
I mean, who's gonna
buy that one, huh?
Write about it anyway.
I don't know.
Sell it to one of
Joey's crazy magazines.
-That's worth a try.
-Yeah.
Last one.
Look.
What's he doing?
He's not shooting.
Well, I'll be damned.
Butt me, Mittens.
Gentlemen.
Move out.