Rick Warden: Harry F. Welsh

Carentan

Harry F. Welsh

Harry Welsh: I want light and noise discipline from now on. That means no talking, no smoking, and no playing grab-fanny with the man in front of you, Luz.

Nixon: Harry... what exactly are you doing with your reserve chute? You've been hauling that thing around ever since we jumped.
Harry Welsh: Gonna send it back to Kitty when we get back to England. Silk. Figure it'll make a good wedding dress, you know. What with the rationing and all.
Nixon: [Chuckling] Jeez, Harry, I never would have guessed.
Harry Welsh: What? That I'm so sentimental?
Nixon: No, that you think we're gonna make it back to England.

Maj. Richard D. Winters: Hey, Harry.
Harry Welsh: How's the leg?
Maj. Richard D. Winters: Stiff. Sore. They want me to take it easy for a few days.
Harry Welsh: Yeah, you should.
Maj. Richard D. Winters: Talked to Colonel Sink. He said he appreciated Easy holding the line.
Harry Welsh: Hmmm.
Maj. Richard D. Winters: Said General Taylor was pleased.
Harry Welsh: Well, that's why I came to France. To please General Taylor.
Maj. Richard D. Winters: [sighs] Yeah.

SSgt. John Martin: Flash.
Harry Welsh: Thunder.
[referring to Germans singing across the field]
Harry Welsh: Catchy tune, ain't it?
SSgt. John Martin: Hey, Lieutenant. What's the news?
Harry Welsh: Oh, the same as it was this afternoon. They're in their hedgerow. We're in ours.
SSgt. John Martin: Spell me a minute sir.
Harry Welsh: You gonna let Blithe get some sack time?
SSgt. John Martin: My back teeth are floating.
Harry Welsh: Get back here ASAP, Martin.
SSgt. John Martin: You can count on me, sir.
Harry Welsh: How you doing, Blithe?
Pvt. Albert Blithe: I'm okay, sir.
Harry Welsh: What happened at the aid station today?
Pvt. Albert Blithe: Doc Roe, he called it hysterical blindness.
[Welsh offers blithe a drink from his canteen]
Pvt. Albert Blithe: No thank you, sir.
Harry Welsh: You know what they said in basic. Dehydration's a soldier's worst enemy.
[Blithe drinks]
Harry Welsh: It's a game, Blithe. That's all. We're just moving the ball forward one yard at a time. Nothing but a game.
Pvt. Albert Blithe: What is, sir?
Harry Welsh: This. The whole thing.
[offers Blithe another drink]
Pvt. Albert Blithe: No, thank you, sir.
Harry Welsh: Just a game.

Harry Welsh: [as the battle rages around him, he hears a noise and looks through his binoculars to find several tanks headed their way] Where the Hell did they come from?
[One tank fires off a shell and sends the members of Dog and Fox companies scattering]
Harry Welsh: Holy shit, there goes our left flank!
Nixon: [Watching the battle through binoculars from a distance] Sir, Dog and Fox are pulling back.
Maj. Robert L. Strayer: What?
[He turns and looks his binoculars to see the two companies retreating as tank shells burst around them]
Maj. Robert L. Strayer: Who gave that order, god damnit?

Alton M. More: [as Smokey sets up his machine gun for another round, two loud whistles sound as ordinance hits the German lines, sending soldiers flying] Jesus, what was that?
[They both look to their side to see a row of Sherman tanks heading in their direction]
Alton M. More: SHERMANS!
[They both start laughing]
Nixon: [Looking through binoculars] Well hello, 2nd Armored.
Frank J. Perconte: [Looks in the direction of the gunfire and starts cheering with Luz as the Germans begin running away] That's right you sorry asses, run!
Harry Welsh: Oh you beautiful babies you!
Maj. Richard D. Winters: Let's go, pour in on them! Let them have it, come on!
Walter S. (Smokey) Gordon Jr.: [He cocks his machine gun, an animalistic look on his face] YEAH!
Warren H. (Skip) Muck: Check it out, Shermans!
Donald Malarkey: About damn time.