A monologue from the screenplay by Quentin Tarantino
This watch. This watch was on your daddy’s wrist when he was shot down over Hanoi. He was captured, put in a Vietnamese prison camp.
He knew if the gooks ever saw the watch it’d be confiscated, taken away. The way your dad looked at it, that watch was your birthright. He’d be damned if any slopes were gonna put their greasy yellow hands on his boy’s birthright.
So he hid it in the one place he knew he could hide something. His a**. Five long years, he wore this watch up his a**. Then he died of dysentery, he gave me the watch.
I hid this uncomfortable hunk of metal up my a** two years. Then, after seven years, I was sent home to my family. And now, little man, I give the watch to you.