Up the Academy

You know what you are, Chooch?

You're a little fart.

I bend over backwards to teach you the business...

so that we can be known as "Bombalazzi and son."

You know, that could be you.

What am I doing this for? For my health?

You'd think I suggested you get involved in murder or drugs or robbery.

What are we talking about here? Gambling and whores.

They're victimless crimes.

Ain't you got no respect for the family?

You don’t wanna listen. You don’t wanna learn.

Well, now, you're gonna learn to listen and learn.

Mark. Kevin.

Chooch is going to the airport. Make sure he gets there okay, all right?

God be with you, Eisenhower MacArthur.

Say goodbye to your stepmother.

Where'd you stash the grass?

It's in your diaphragm case.

We wouldn't wanna see you miss your plane, son.

I'll miss you, Eisenhower.

God will comfort you in my son's absence, Nubia.

But not in the same way your son does.

The Lord will look after him, precious lady.

And when Eisenhower returns to the fold...

perhaps he'll be a stronger person, closer to the Holy Spirit...

instead of just a jive-ass nigger.

It just seems to me that the son of the mayor...

of one of the most respectable towns in Michigan...

should at least know the meaning of the word "rubber.”

Especially in an election year.

Candy and I love each other, Dad. We wanna do the right thing.

Don't worry, son. You will.

You will.

Oliver!

I'm not gonna lie to you men and tell you it's gonna be easy.

Nobody's gonna roll over for you out there.

The Krauts didn't roll over for us when we stormed the beaches at Normandy...

but we still kicked their asses.

And you know why we beat those bastards?

Because we were there.

And we were there because we were ready.

And we were ready because we were trained.

And any son of a bitch who thinks he can do a job without training...

is a son of a bitch I don't want in the trenches with me. He'll get me killed.

And he's gonna get my men killed.

I know most of you are scared shitless, and you have a right to be.

They don't call me "Old Blood and Vinegar" for nothing.

That's right.

And if you don't wanna be a man, if you don't wanna cut the mustard...

crawl out of here right now with your tail between your legs...

because we don't want you!

Or you. Or you.

Thank you, Commandant Causeway, for that inspiring opening message.

Oh, sir.

- Where's the pool? - Yeah, smells like jock straps in here.

- What a dump. - You mean there's no color TV?

All right, you barracks rats...

shape up and get your gear stored, and he'll be right in.

Who will be right in?

Liceman.

- Who's Liceman? - Who cares.

My name's Oliver Holt. I'm from Michigan.

That's not my fault.

- Eisenhower MacArthur. - Is that a history lesson or a name?

- Is your father in the Army? - No, he's a sadist.

Why else would he give me this name?

- Just call me Ike. - Hash.

- No, thanks. Maybe after dinner. - No. My name is Hash.

It's easier to say than El Hashid Amier, Jr.

It's easy to smoke too.

Don't you think so?

I'm taking this top bunk. Anybody got any objections?

- Sorry. I didn't catch your name. - I didn't throw it.

Hold on a second. Since there are only three top bunks...

let's draw straws, make it democratic.

- Draw this. - Hey, watch it.

Take it easy. If we're gonna be living together, we have got to try and get along.

Let me tell you guys something. We're not living together.

I'm by myself. I don't wanna be here. I wanna do my work...

mind my own business and get out of here when my time is up. All right?

Here he comes!

Liceman's coming!

Ten, hut!

Welcome, gentlemen. My name is Major Vaughn Liceman.

And I'd like us all to be friends.

Weinberg can be a very lonely place if you don't have friends.

I know.

I was 7 years old when I first came to the academy.

I didn't have any friends.

Nobody liked me.

- Whose bunk is this, now? - Mine.

- Don’t you mean, "mine, sir"? - Yes, sir.

- Say it again. - Mine, sir.

- Say it again. - Mine, sir.

- Say it again! - Mine, sir.

But as the years rolled by, I learned how to get along with people...

by doing what was asked of me.

By living up to the code of the academy...

and by putting my trust in my superiors.

And pretty soon, everybody liked me.

Now, suffice it to say, the saddest day of my life was the day I graduated.

And I was never really happy again until I returned here...

to assume my duties as assistant to the commandant.

Oh, yeah.

I forgot. I did have a few brief moments of satisfaction in Vietnam...

where I was fortunate enough to serve my country to the fullest extent at My Lai.

But, by and large, Weinberg is where I belong...

and in a sense, Weinberg belongs to me.

- Something wrong with you, boy? - No. It's just a little chilly in here.

- Don’t you mean, "It's chilly in here, sir"? - Yes, sir.

Well, say it!

- It's chilly in here, sir. - Say it again.

- It's chilly in here, sir. - Say it again!

- It's chilly in here, sir. - That's what I thought.

Anyway, gentlemen, I think this semester can be a pleasant experience for all of us...

if you just obey the rules.

Because if you don't, I'm gonna find out about it.

And then I won't be able to be your friend anymore.

Because whatever you do...

wherever you go...

whatever you're thinking...

I'll be watching you...

looking out for your better interests.

Because, after all...

that's what friends are for.

Now, you take these candlesticks here, for instance.

I do not think they belong in there. Now, do they, Punjab?

- They were a gift from my uncle, sir. - Pick them up.

- Yes, sir. - I catch you stealing., I'll rip your balls off.

- Fair enough, sir. - Say it again.

- Fair enough, sir. - Say it again.

Fair enough, sir.

Gentlemen, it's getting late.

Once again, welcome to Weinberg.

Get a good night's sleep tonight.

Pleasant dreams.

Doing the best I can, Sergeant Patty.

He didn't mean it when he said he wanted to be friends.

No shit.

Dear Candy, I've thought of you every minute since I got here...

but this is the first chance I’ve had to write. This place sucks.

Orientation week is over and tomorrow we start classes.

My dad says if I see you again or do anything to screw up his election...

don't get the new car for my birthday and I never get to go home.

So if we want to see each other again, we have to be careful.

I miss you so much and want to see you very badly. Love, Oliver.

P.S. I think I can get rubbers.

I wrote to Candy over a week ago. Why hasn't she written me back?

She probably has, but you gotta be patient.

It takes a long time for a letter to be delivered to hell.

Holt!

Not "halt!" Holt!

Holt, halt!

This letter arrived for you a couple three days ago.

I just got around to opening it.

- You opened my mail? - You opened my mail, sir!

Yes, sir. That's what I meant, sir. Thank you for correcting me, sir.

- It's from your girlfriend. - Thank you again, sir.

- Now, just don't try it. - Don't try what, sir?

- Leaving to see her. - I couldn’t do that, sir.

- She's halfway across the country. - No, she's not.

Your girlfriend has been enrolled...

at a girls' military school in the area, the Mildred S. Butch Academy.

- That's not far from here, sir. - But it's off limits to you, boy.

- Yes, sir. - You just remember that.

- I will, sir. - Now, sir, have I not been your friend?

- You're my friend, sir. - Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir. - Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir. - Say it again.

- You're my friend, sir. - Good enough. Now...

the rest of the letter is just a bunch of lovey-dovey bullshit.

I'll tell her to stop that, sir.

It doesn't matter to me, boy. It's your mail.

All right, gentlemen, moving right along.

In this course, you'll become familiar...

with a number of basic field weapons, such as the one I'm holding.

The M-1 recoilless semi-automatic rifle...

used by the U.S. Army infantry.

We'll become familiar with the hand grenade.

Metal, rounded incendiary device...

which, when properly activated, will cause a small explosion.

And, of course, the 135 mm mortar.

This hard, cylindrical, blunt-ended artillery shell.

Smooth to the touch, but highly explosive...

when shoved into the chamber and fired.

Any questions?

So I say right now, for all of you out there within the sound of my voice...

get back, devil! Beat it, Beelzebub! So long, Satan!

We've had enough!

Look out for the grandeur and the glory of God...

because it's coming into your life!

Records and tapes available on MacArthur Records...

for only $7.98 at your local record shop.

That's really your dad, huh?

That's my pop, the faith healer.

Can he really perform miracles?

Well, he got us to Beverly Hills, and that's a miracle.

I'm trying to do my homework. Do you mind?

- That's Ike’s father. - Hey, it's okay.

- What are you trying to find on that map? - The Mildred S. Butch Academy.