What's the matter with you? I... I guess I... I can't take it sir. What did you say? It's...

Patton: What's the matter with you? Soldier Who Gets Slapped: I... I guess I... I can't take it sir. Patton: What did you say? Soldier Who Gets Slapped: It's my nerves, sir. I... I... I just can't stand the shelling anymore. Patton: Your *nerves*? Well, hell, you're just a God-damned coward. [Soldier starts sniveling] Patton: [Slaps him, once forehanded, then backhanded on the rebound] Patton: Shut up! I won't have a yellow bastard sitting here *crying* in front of these brave men who have been wounded in battle! [Soldier snivels some more, and Patton swings a vicious forehand slap, knocking his helmet away] Patton: *Shut up!* [to the doctors] Patton: Don't admit this yellow bastard. There's nothing wrong with him. I won't have sons-of-bitches who are afraid to fight *stinking up this place of honor!* [to soldier] Patton: You're going back to the front, my friend. You may get shot, and you may get killed, but you're going up to the fighting. Either that, or I'm going to stand you up in front of a firing squad. I ought to shoot you myself, you god-damned... bastard! Get him out of here! [pulls his service automatic. At that, the doctors leap forward and hustle the soldier out of the tent. Patton keeps shouting at the soldier's back] Patton: Take him up to the front! You hear me? You God-damned coward! [Takes deep breath] Patton: I won't have cowards in my army.