FURY Written By David Ayer - Daily Script

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FURYWritten byDavid Ayer

OVER A BLACK SCREEN:April 1945 -- The Allied Armies strike at the heart ofGermany. In four weeks the Third Reich will be no more.EXT. FARMER’S FIELD - PREDAWNThick morning fog blankets all. A faint glow in the East.It’s quiet save for the DISTANT RUMBLE of artillery.Super title: Somewhere in Nazi Germany.A Spanish Arabian STALLION emerges from the fog. A waspwaisted German Army LIEUTENANT erect in its saddle. Hisdisciplined horse elegantly picks its way over the furrowedsoil. A dark hulk looms in the mist -- Horse and riderapproach.IT’S A BURNED OUT TANK -- An American Sherman. Stillsmoldering. Steel armor ripped open like tin foil.The Lieutenant moves on. Encounters another charred tank. Itsentire turret blown off. A small fire still burns inside.Around it are the blackened twisted shapes of burnt shrunkenmen.He moves on. Another hulk emerges from the mist -- This tanklooks like a scrap heap -- Sandbags, railroad ties, sloppysteel plate, cases of wine, rations and ammunition. Battered,scarred and seemingly abandoned.The Lieutenant guides his horse in a slow circle around thearmored vehicle. He HEARS a faint CLINK -- And draws hisLuger from its shiny black holster -- THEN:An AMERICAN SOLDIER hiding BEHIND THE TURRET leaps on him.Tearing the German from his horse. The two men CRASH to theground. The American stabs the Lieutenant in the face -THWICK-THWICK-THWICK! Fast, violent, shocking.The American then carefully slides the knife blade behind theGerman’s eye - Piercing his brainpan with a CRACK. The Germanconvulses for a moment. And dies.The American retrieves his knife. Wipes it clean on theGerman’s uniform and scans the area with burning primal eyes.This is DON “WARDADDY” COLLIER. Late twenties he looks middleaged. A light beard and hollow cheeks. Years of combat haveground him into something hard and sharp.(CONTINUED)

2.CONTINUED:With the mechanical clumsiness of exhaustion, Wardaddy cutsthe map case from the German’s belt. Then rips the largeKnight’s Cross medal from the dead man’s neck.Wardaddy stands to his full impressive height in his oilblackened overalls. He crosses to the horse. He grabs thebeautiful animal’s bridal and looks at it for a moment.Eye to eye. Connection with the animal. With incrediblegentleness he rubs its muzzle. And kisses it.Then he pulls his knife -- The horse jerks back, but Wardaddyholds it firm. He knows horses.THWICK! - He cuts off the bridle, slips the bit from itsmouth. He unbuckles the saddle and drops it to the soil.Wardaddy looking at the horse. Then it heads back the way itcame - Now without ride and tack.Wardaddy climbs aboard his tank -- Her name is “FURY” -- It’spainted on her cannon.INT. FURY - PREDAWNDark. Cramped. Crowded. A filthy machine with filthy men.There’s two main areas - THE TURRET BASKET -- A bigcylindrical cage that spins with the turret.And the BOW -- The front of the tank where the driver and amachine gunner sit. The sound of piss hitting tin.BOYD “BIBLE” SWAN is draped casually across the cannonbreech. A pastor’s kid from Des Moines, he’s serious, calm,centered. You’d never guess he’s killed a thousand men. Hefinishes urinating into an ammo can.TRINI “GORDO” GARCIA sits in the driver’s seat sipping winefrom a bottle. A Mexican butcher from Chicago. He’s beendrunk since 1942. He once went into combat sober - And vowednever to do it again.Next to Gordo, the transmission housing between them, is thebody of RED. A blood soaked jacket pulled over his head. Hisblood spattered inside the tank.GRADY “COON-ASS” TRAVIS, a good-old-boy from Arkansas, iswedged into the battery compartment fixing a short. He’scunning, viscous and World wise.Wardaddy drops down into the Commander’s hatch.(CONTINUED)

3.CONTINUED:COON-ASSGet that fucker?WARDADDYI knocked him off.Gordo offers Red a drink, pushes the bottle into hisshoulder. Whispers to him.BIBLEGordo. Stop. Leave him rest.WARDADDYHe’s dead. Or did you forget? Drunkdamn fool.Gordo shoots them a dirty look. Keeps whispering to his deadfriend. Wardaddy watches Coon-Ass work.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Goddammit. Ain’t you done?COON-ASSKeep ridin’ me.WARDADDYI’m not riding you. If I was, you’dknow it. More where he came from.Wardaddy tosses Bible the Knight’s Cross - Bible hangs it inthe turret - Where more German combat decorations hang likeChristmas ornaments.WARDADDY (CONT’D)You get some canned bacon for this?He tosses Gordo the dead Officer’s Luger. He inspects it.GORDOFor this? Yeah. A case or two.Wardaddy lights a cigarette. Then scratches another notch inhis knife with his GI can opener. It’s tense - They arebehind German lines and acutely aware of the danger they’rein. But danger becomes routine. After years of it.Coon-Ass smirks - KNOWING he’ll get a rise.COON-ASSHow come you didn’t shoot thathorse? You love shooting horses somuch.(CONTINUED)

4.CONTINUED: (2)Wardaddy darkens with outrage -- He works his way over toCoon-Ass and begins kicking the hell out of him.COON-ASS (CONT’D)Stop it! What’s that for?WARDADDYYou know what it’s for.COON-ASSWhy you always whoopin’ on me?WARDADDYBecause you’re an animal. A dog.All you understand is the fist andboot.COON-ASSBull-sheeet. I understand me thepussy and the gun. Killin’ andfuckin’.WARDADDYIn that order?COON-ASSMaybe. Timing’s important. I likeme warm pussy. Pipin’ hot.GORDOYou still talking? Can we get outof here? Everyone shut up.WARDADDYYou shut up. You’re a goddamnbottle of wine. Stink like wine.Think like wine. Alcohol neversolved nothing.GORDONeither did milk. Let’s go.Vamanos. Vamanos ya.WARDADDYWanna talk Mexican? Find anothertank. A Mexican tank. This is anAmerican tank. We talk American.GORDOWho put a nickel in you? You talkKraut. You can talk German and Ican’t talk Spanish?(CONTINUED)

5.CONTINUED: (3)WARDADDYI use my German as a tool of war.Coon-Ass grabs his crotch.COON-ASSHere’s my tool of war.Bible realizes this isn’t about horses or Spanish. It’s aboutRed -- The man with his head blown off in the Bow Gunner’sseat. Bible hands Wardaddy some coffee he warmed on a Colemanstove.WARDADDYThanks Boyd.BIBLEStop ragging on everyone. Youdidn’t kill Red. The German’s did.WARDADDYThat’s true. But I sure didn’t keephim alive.BIBLEHis number came up. That’s all.We’ve been lucky. Until now. Settledown.Wardaddy adds sugar to his coffee. Stirs it with a greasycallused finger. He opens the German’s mapcase -- Discoversseveral maps.WARDADDYThank heavens. We got a map.Wardaddy studies a German map.WARDADDY (CONT’D)We’re here. Battalion Area’s to theSouth. This hardball road here’llget us back. Sound good?COON-ASSYou got the stripes, Daddy. Youfigure it out.WARDADDYI got more, boy. Need more?Wardaddy pokes his head out of the Commander’s hatch andlistens carefully to the coming dawn.(CONTINUED)

6.CONTINUED: (4)His finely tuned instincts kick in. Wardaddy drops backinside - Pulls the hatch shut with a CLANK.THEN:The sound of ROARING LOCOMOTIVES -- An Artillery barrage ison the way.BOOM-BOOM-KABOOM! -- Shells explode around the tank. Rockingit. For the moment the men are safe in their steel cocoon.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Coon-Ass? Anytime, sweetheart.Coon-Ass turns a last bolt then extricates himself from thebatteries.COON-ASS‘Kay. Crank her up, Gordo. Whipthis bitch like your donkey back inOld Mexico.GORDOI’ll whip your Alabama ass with mydonkey cock.Gordo pushes the starter button. Expectant faces. The engineRUMBLES but doesn’t catch.MORE EXPLODING SHELLS -- Incredibly loud. Shrapnel PINGS offthe hull. They endure it with their trademark stoicism.They’ve been through it before - But a direct hit can killthem.WARDADDYChoke’er up. She’s cold.Gordo opens the choke. Tries again. The engine rumbling.Doesn’t start. Worried faces.GORDOThere’s condensation on the plugs.WARDADDYPlugs’re good. Don’t flood it.GORDODrunk or not I can start a damntank.(CONTINUED)

7.CONTINUED: (5)VROOM! -- The engine ROARS to life. They are relieved. Lowkey and businesslike, they don their headsets - It’s nowunbelievably loud in the tank. Coon-Ass joins Wardaddy andBible in the turret basket.Move out!WARDADDYGordo double-clutches and shifts into first. The tanklurches. Bible presses his eye to the gunsight.Wardaddy rotates the turret with his THUMBSWITCH, lookingoutside through a PERISCOPE.BEHIND GORDO -- We see the turret basket rotating, the legsof Wardaddy, Bible and Coon-Ass standing inside - It’s animpressive sight.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Forward! Pick it up! Forward!The tank RATTLES. CLANKS and SHUDDERS. Ammo cases, weapons, Crations vibrate. We are in the belly of the beast.KABOOM-BOOM-BOOM! -- Shells explode dangerously close. Thetank shudders. Gordo clutches, shifts into second. Stomps thegas. The tank builds speed. Wardaddy SEES the road.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Drive! Left. Left. Left.ON GORDO - Turning the tank with the two big steering levers.He whips it onto the road, upshifts into third gear. The tankbuilds speed - Moving surprisingly fast.Gordo can sure drive a tank. Eyes riveted to his periscope.Gas, oil, blood and piss sloshing over his boots. Red’s bodyin the seat next to him.Leaving the CRASHING artillery behind.Out of immediate danger, Wardaddy opens his hatch and takeshis normal position - Exposed from the chest up in thecommander’s hatch. He grips a captured German assault rifle,grimly scanning for threats with his cold hard eyes.The Fury has escaped. Her crew is neither grateful orrelieved. There is work to do. The war is not over.

8.EXT. BATTALION AREA - DAYA farmer’s field has been overrun by a travelling circus ofdeath - An American Armored Battalion. A couple thousand men.A couple hundred vehicles. The TIRED MEN load TIRED VEHICLESfor another day on the attack. Months of spearheading intoGermany have taken their toll.A BOOMING ARTILLERY BATTERY pumps rounds into German targetsmiles away. The BLACK DRIVERS of the Redball Express Trucksunload heaps of supplies from their trucks.MECHANICS, CLERKS, COOKS and MPs move with purpose.INFANTRYMEN clean weapons. A CHAPLAIN gives last ritesoutside the surgery tent as MEDICS line up more litters ofWOUNDED MEN.A hundred GERMAN PRISONERS sit listlessly behind barbed wire.A BULLDOZER plows a heap of dead Germans into a pit.A ROW OF FIFTEEN SHERMAN TANKS -- Their busy CREWS ready themfor another day’s push into Germany. The tankers stop workingand stare in amazement.HERE COMES THE FURY -- Driving up fast, it deftly spins andparks perfectly alongside the newer, cleaner tanks. SERGEANTDAVIS, commander of the Lucy Sue shakes his head.SGT. DAVISThought you were dead Collier.WARDADDYThe Devil watches over his own.Wardaddy jumps down. A pair of MEDICS approach the tank witha litter. Wardaddy and Gordo haul Red’s corpse out of thetank and lay him onto the litter.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Take care of him. He was a goodman.The Medic SEES the top of Red’s head is gone.MEDICYou said you had wounded. We’re notgraves registration.WARDADDYTake good care of him. Or I’ll takegood care of you.(CONTINUED)

9.CONTINUED:Wardaddy pats his assault rifle with menace. The Medics tradelooks and depart with the body. Gordo crawls under the tankand passes out in the mud.LIEUTENANT PARKER approaches Wardaddy. Young and fresh, hehas just a month with the outfit. He’s intimidated byWardaddy, this tough tanker hard tempered by war’s hammer.LT. PARKERSergeant I was afraid you weredead. I’m awful sorry about T-5Conley.WARDADDYIt’s Red. We call him Red.LT. PARKERSure. Where’s the rest of ThirdPlatoon?We’re it.WARDADDYLT. PARKERWhat happened out there?WARDADDYAnother goddamned green Lieutenanthappened.LT. PARKERWhat do I tell the Captain?WARDADDYTell him we drove straight into astrongpoint. Two Kraut tanks weredug in like pillboxes. I got ‘emboth. After they got everyone else.LT. PARKERWe’re moving again. Headquarterssection’s already folding. You’rein my Platoon now. We’re assignedto check out a town while main unitbypasses.WARDADDYA goddamned flank guard mission?Wardaddy nods at the Fury. Looking even more ragged in thedaylight.(CONTINUED)

10.CONTINUED: (2)WARDADDY (CONT’D)Lieutenant, I gotta short in themaster switch box. Steering linkageis rattling. Engine’s losingcompression. Oil’s in the radiator.Bogies need rubber. There’s a 75gouge on the turret that’ll taketwenty pounds of welding rod tofill in. She’s a mess. So’s mycrew.LT. PARKERMake ready to depart the companyarea on my order.WARDADDYYessir. Fuck my life.The young officer spins on his heels and walks off. Wardaddylooks at Bible and Coon-Ass, staring at him from atop thetank. Just crushed. Beaten, exhausted. Spent.COON-ASSParker’s douchebag. We working forthat Yankee fool now?WARDADDYDon’t you worry about him. You workfor me. Restock ammo and rations.Wake up Gordo. Have him top off thewater and gas. Do what you canabout the mechanical issues.Wardaddy walking away.BIBLEWhere you going?WARDADDYThe latrine to take a shit. I ain’tshit in a week.NORMAN ELLISON a shiny new Private with a dufflebagintercepts Wardaddy.NORMANSergeant Collier?WARDADDYMaybe. What the fuck are you?(CONTINUED)

11.CONTINUED: (3)NORMANPrivate Ellison. I was told toreport to you. I’m your newAssistant Driver.WARDADDYLookit you. Crisp and green like anew dollar bill. Puppy breath andall.Wardaddy lights a smoke. An outgoing volley from the nearbyArtillery Company makes Norman flinch.WARDADDY (CONT’D)Don’t worry about outgoing.Incoming mail’s the issue. Naziscan drop an 88 shell in your hippocket from two miles out.Wardaddy directs him to the Fury.WARDADDY (CONT’D)That’s home. Do what you’re told.And don’t get too close to no one.Wardaddy walks off. Norman approaches the tank. Bible andCoon-Ass scrutinize the newcomer. Gordo slides out from underthe hull, bathed in mud. The three feral tankers eye Norman.Gordo grabs Norman’s dufflebag and searches it. Norman afraidto stop him.NORMANWhich way’s the front?Bible gestures in a wide circle.BIBLEAll around us. Kid, this isGermany. We’re surrounded byKrauts.Norman sees a YOUNG TANKER running in circles holding an M1rifle above his head. Yelling this:YOUNG TANKERI’m a shithead! I’m a shithead! I’ma shithead! I’m a shithead!NORMANWhat’s that about?(CONTINUED)

12.CONTINUED: (4)BIBLEHe was cleaning a machine gun anddidn’t unload it. Nearly killed aSergeant. Lucky he didn’t getstomped into the mud.Norman swallows hard. Looks around. Gordo angrily looks upfrom Norman’s dufflebag.GORDOWhere’s your cigarettes?NORMANI don’t smoke.GORDOWell then you’re a bastard.Gordo tosses Norman’s dufflebag in the mud. Norman looksstricken.BIBLEYou go to tank school?NORMANI’ve never seen inside a tank. I’ma clerk typist. I was going toFifth Corps HQ. They pulled me offthe truck and sent me here. It’sgotta be a mistake.COON-ASSAin’t a mistake. Army does what itdoes.BIBLEKid, you from Missouri?Norman shakes his head: “No”.Chicago?GORDONorman shakes his head: “No”.Arkansas?COON-ASSNORMANNo, I’m from --(CONTINUED)

13.CONTINUED: (5)COON-ASS-- No one gives a damn where you’refrom.Gordo offers him his canteen. Norman politely takes a swig.Spits it out.NORMANIt tastes like hornet stings.GORDOYou don’t drink?NORMANNuh-uh. Especially that.Gordo snatches back his canteen.GORDOI hate you.BIBLEYou a praying man?NORMANI go to church.BIBLEDo you subscribe? Are you saved?NORMANI’m baptized.BIBLEThat’s not what I’m asking. And youknow it. Wait until you see it.See what?NORMANBIBLEWhat a man can do to another man.GORDOReverend-pastor-deacon Swan herewas in a preacher factory when hegot drafted.BIBLEIt’s called divinity college.(CONTINUED)

14.CONTINUED: (6)COON-ASSPraise Sweet Jesus. Thank you forthe war dear sweet, sweet Jesus.Thank you for all the goddamnedNazi’s to kill.BIBLENorman. There two are wicked men.Albeit amusing. You better grabhold of Jesus. He’s the one thingthat won’t rattle you loose.NORMAN. Sure.Coon-Ass pulls open the Bow Gunner’s hatch.COON-ASSHere boy. Here’s your seat. Get abucket of hot water from thekitchen and get it clean. Amishclean.Norman’s face drops when he peers inside.INT. FURY - DAYMinutes later. Norman kneels awkwardly over the transmissionas he scrubs off blood with a rag. He pauses to stare at thebig belt fed machine gun - Also spattered with blood. Hecleans it gently. As if afraid of waking a dangerous animal.Norman removes blood spattered pin-up girls. And a photo ofRed’s wife - The tough cattle ranching woman who has no ideaher man is dead. He reaches for a photo of Red in cowboyregalia astride a horse -- And freezes.WHAT HE SEES -- Blonde hair, an ear, a single blue eye. Halfof Red’s face.EXT. ASSEMBLY POSITION - DAYLove Company’s tanks are being readied for combat. Gas tanksare filled. Equipment is oiled and clean. Ammo loaded. Busygreen monkeys scrambling over big green turtles.ON THE FURY: Coon-Ass and Bible load ammo into the turret.Wardaddy and Gordo tighten track links with wrenches.(CONTINUED)

15.CONTINUED:Norman scrambles out of the tank and tumbles over the side.Landing on his hands and knees, he vomits his ham and eggsinto the mud.Coughing and sputtering he looks up in time to see a 6x6truck roll by, filled with a heap of corpses. German andAmerican. Legs and arms sticking out. It looks like they arewaving “Hi” to the young soldiers.Norman wants to cry. The Fury’s crew stares at him. Blankfaced. No sympathy.BIBLEGet back in there. It’s not goingto clean itself.Norman stands, brushes off the mud. About to climb back inthe tank, he pauses and stares with his mouth agape.Two TIRED GI’S escort and SS SERGEANT. His hands tied behindhis back with bailing wire. His head is SWOLLEN like awatermelon. Puffy slits for eyes, blood slicked hair. He’staken a serious beating.WARDADDYWhy ain’t he sleepin’?TIRED GIG-Two wants a prisoner to question.WARDADDYI’ll question him.(in fluent German)What’s your favorite color? Youlike chicken or beef? You a gooddancer? You like fat girls?The stoic prisoner blinks with confusion.THWICK! -- Wardaddy buries his knife in the SS Sergeant’schest. Smack in the heart. And works it side to side.The GI’s shake their heads with weary dismay. Bible and CoonAss pull Wardaddy away. Gordo cackles with delight.TIRED GIOkay, that kind of thing’s gonnaget you in a lot of trouble.WARDADDYWe ain’t here to ask themquestions.(CONTINUED)

16.CONTINUED: (2)The Tired GI’s drop their prisoner. They look at Wardaddylike getting ready to do something about it. Coon-Ass aimshis Tommy gun at them.COON-ASSIt’s a goddamned Kraut. Forget it.The SS man dies in the mud gasping his last breath. The tiredGI’s move along.TIRED GII have to tell them what you did.Wardaddy ignores him. Norman watches the men go, shocked.Wardaddy spits. Wipes his knife clean.NORMANYou killed a prisoner of war. Incold blood.WARDADDYI know what I did. He’s an SS.They’re real assholes.Wardaddy shakes a smoke from his pack. Scratches anothernotch in his knife with his can opener.WARDADDY (CONT’D)I kill every SS I can. You’d seenwhat I seen you would too.COON-ASSFuck every last one. They startedit. We’re finishing it.BIBLEHeinies don’t know they’re beat.Our Generals smell blood.COON-ASSYep. Ain’t nothing stopping thespear from sliding into the enemy’sbelly.WARDADDYWe’re the spearhead. Done anykilling?Norman shakes his head: no.You will.WARDADDY (CONT’D)(CONTINUED)

17.CONTINUED: (3)Wardaddy shoves an ugly stamped metal submachine-gun intoNorman’s hands. The GIs call it a “greasegun”. The Lieutenantreturns from the Company Command Post.LT. PARKERFirst Platoon TC’s! See me now.The first Platoon TANK COMMANDERS wander over to theLieutenant. WARDADDY, SGT. BINKOWSKI, SGT. DAVIS and SGT.PETERSON, all rough men who can kick ass in a bar fight.SGT. BINKOWSKII see you sir. I see you.LT. PARKERHere’s the big picture. Main Unit’sgoing East. We’re going North on aflank guard mission. We’ll tie upwith Baker Company from the 41st.Sergeant Collier is with us now.He’ll be acting Platoon Sergeant.SGT. PETERSONThat’s fine with me.

damn fool. Gordo shoots them a dirty look. Keeps whispering to his dead friend. Wardaddy watches Coon-Ass work. WARDADDY (CONT’D) Goddammit. Ain’t you done? COON-ASS Keep ridin’ me. WARDADDY I’m not riding you. If I was, you’d know it. More where he came from. Wardaddy tosses Bible the Knight’s Cross - Bible hangs it in