YOU WANT THE TRUTH? YOU CAN'T HANDLE THE TRUTH. Son we live in a world with walls and those walls have to be guarded by men with guns...who's gonna do it? You? You Lt. Wienberg? I have a greater responsability then you could possibly fathom. You weep for Santiago, and curse the Marines. You have that luxury, 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 inside, in places you don't talk about at parties, you want me on that wall...you NEED me on that wall. We use words like, honor, code, loyalty...we use these words as the backbone of a life spent defending something. You use these words as a punchline. I have neither the time, nor the inclination to explain myself to a man who rises and sleeps under the very blanket of freedom I provide...then questions the manor in which I provide it. I would rather you just said thank you, and went on your way...or otherwise I suggest you pick up a weapon, and stand a post. Either way, I DON"T GIVE A DAMN WHAT YOU THINK YOU'RE ENTITLED TO!