Bugenhagen (Speaking to RedXIII) : Hello, little man. Boy I sure
heard a bunch about you. See, I
was a good friend of your Daddy's.
We were in that Hanoi pit of hell
over five years together.
Hopefully, you'll never have to
experience this yourself, but when
two men are in a situation like me
and your Daddy were, for as long as
we were, you take on certain
responsibilities of the other. If
it had been me who had not made it,
Major Coolidge would be talkin'
right now to my son Jim. But the
way it worked out is I'm talkin' to
you, Butch. I got somethin' for
ya.
*Bugenhagen pulls a gold head dress out of his pocket.*
This head dress I got here was first
purchased by your great-granddaddy.
It was bought during the First
World War in a little general store
in Knoxville, Tennessee. It was
bought by private Doughboy Ernie
Coolidge the day he set sail for
Paris. It was your great-
granddaddy's war head dress, made by the
first company to ever make head dresses. You see, up until then,
people just carried hats.
Your great-granddaddy wore that
head dress every day he was in the war.
Then when he had done his duty, he
went home to your great-
grandmother, took the head dress off his
headt and put it in an ol' coffee
can. And in that can it stayed
'til your grandfather Dane Coolidge
was called upon by his country to
go overseas and fight the Germans
once again. This time they called
it World War Two.
Your great-granddaddy gave it to
your granddad for good luck.
Unfortunately, Dane's luck wasn't
as good as his old man's. Your
granddad was a Marine and he was
killed with all the other Marines
at the battle of Wake Island. Your
granddad was facing death and he
knew it. None of those boys had
any illusions about ever leavin'
that island alive. So three days
before the Japanese took the
island, your 22-year old
grandfather asked a gunner on an
Air Force transport named Winocki,
a man he had never met before in
his life, to deliver to his infant
son, who he had never seen in the
flesh, his gold head dress. Three days
later, your grandfather was dead.
But Winocki kept his word. After
the war was over, he paid a visit
to your grandmother, delivering to
your infant father, his Dad's gold
head dress. This head dress. This head dress was
on your Daddy's wrist when he was
shot down over Hanoi. He was
captured and put in a Vietnamese
prison camp. Now he knew if the
gooks ever saw the head dress it's be
confiscated. The way your Daddy
looked at it, that head dress was your
birthright. And he'd be damned if
and slopeheads were gonna put their
greasy yella hands on his boy's
birthright. So he hid it in the
one place he knew he could hide
somethin'. His a**. Five long
years, he wore this head dress up his
a**. Then when he died of
disentary, he gave me the head dress. I
hid this uncomfortable hunk of
metal up my a** for two years.
Then, after seven years, I was sent
home to my family. And now, little
man, I give the head dress to you.
(More Pulp Fiction)
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