The Colonel: Son...

Sgt. Killian: Zwickley, he's sick Sir.
Lt. Benson: Sick?... This war you're either healthy or you're dead.

Sgt. Montana: You said you wanted to get one man alive out of your platoon. Well you got your wish, only double, there's you and me. Ain't that something.
Lt. Benson: Forget it. We'll never see the morning.
Sgt. Montana: Yes we will. They can't hurt us anymore now. They threw everything at us. Rifle fire, grenades, four twos, artillery. I'm telling you, they can't scratch us. If we wanted to take that hill, we could take it easy, the two of us.
Lt. Benson: With what?
Sgt. Montana: We're lucky, we're lucky. With guts we'll take 'em. We still got the flamethrower.
Lt. Benson: Yeah.
Sgt. Montana: Let's go get it.
Lt. Benson: Wait.
Sgt. Montana: You'll go with me?
Lt. Benson: Yeah, but wait.
Sgt. Montana: Wait for what?
Lt. Benson: I want to live as long as I can.

Lt. Benson: Battalion doesn't exist. Regiment doesn't exist. Command HQ doesn't exist. The U.S.A. doesn't exist... We're the only ones left to fight this war.

Lt. Benson: You know, I feel sorry for you, Montana. You got nobody now but me.