announcer: Up next, "Military Stories Week" presents four narrative short films from the GI Film Festival San Diego featuring "Doldrums," "The Craftsman," "This Is My Rifle," and "Cindy."

This showcase brings veteran filmmakers' storytelling to the screen.

speaker: Let's see.

[singing in foreign language] [grunting in pain] [agonizing scream] James: If you don't kill them, they will kill us.

Robert: Sir.

[music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] [music in foreign language] narrator: My great-grandfather Felix Landis was many things.

He was a farmer, a dreamer, an artist.

But in his heart of hearts, he was a master craftsman, specifically in woodworking.

His love of music led him to creating violins.

He loved the deep resonating emotion that poured like a flood out of this simple wooden instrument.

In his mid-60s, Felix decided to create his opus, four violins made from vastly different kinds of wood.

He would push the boundaries of violin making and create a set of masterpieces that would be unique in the music world.

He started the project during World War II when hardwoods were in high demand by the war effort.

Every single jeep, tank, and plane the US produced had hardwood components: seats, handles, every rifle stock.

Spruce and maple became impossible to find.

But Felix had an idea.

He went to different salvage yards and handpicked four antique hardwood doors.

Each one was 60 to 100 years old.

He discovered that the hollow cell structure of these aged woods would produce instruments with incredible resonance.

Their sounds were magical.

While creating these violins, he often thought about the stories behind the doors, each one a weathered timeline of history.

How many full and meaningful lives were lived behind these doors.

He thought about how doors can be opened with love or slammed shut with anger.

They can lock someone out or lock someone in.

They can hide a mystery or the truth.

Or a door can be opened wide for everyone to pass through.

When he finally completed all four violins, he wanted to memorialize them by recording the story of each violin onto a reel-to-reel recorder, and then he played a tune with each one.

He couldn't read music, but he could make the instruments flow with emotion, and to him that's all that mattered.

I've combined these two tapes so you can hear the stories and the music from Felix himself.

Felix Landis: Testing, testing.

Okay, I think this is recording, so let's proceed.

This first violin I call the Songbird.

I refer to the door it was made from as its mother.

This mother door was crafted from bird's-eye maple, a beautiful and decorative wood, and it came from the Lakeside Inn, a grand hotel which was built in the 1880s.

It somewhat resembled the Hotel del Coronado.

The door itself was fancy, probably imported from Europe, and was part of a double door set, most likely entering into the main ballroom.

I could tell it was the right side door from the position of the doorknob hole being on the left side.

I like that it was on the side that welcomed the guests in.

So many wonderful memories must have been created in that opulent room.

The formal dances where new love bloomed, the 4th of July celebrations where the entire town would gather together and hear the military band play, the wedding parties where two lives were joined as one, creating a joyful new beginning.

This door saw the best of people, smiles, laughter, and a bonding comfort that only a real community can experience.

Felix: This second violin I call The Darkness.

Its mother door was made from ebony wood, a very dark, almost black hardwood.

It was the main door to the original San Diego jail in Old Town, built in the early 1850s.

This door was almost 100 years old when it arrived in my workshop, and the sadness it had seen was unmistakable.

Inside the jail were metal cages that held the prisoners, but this door, this door was the main front door to the jail building.

I feel a heavy responsibility when I play The Darkness.

The truth is that most people who passed through this door were either hung or shot for their crimes.

That's what California justice looked like back in those days.

Yankee Jim Robinson was held there before they dragged him out and hung him on the town gallows.

He stole a rowboat.

And it cost him his life.

This door saw untold amounts of desperation and regret.

The weathered black wood, I'm sure, was a symbol of warning to the townsfolk.

Heed the law or suffer judgment.

This door has seen the darkest side of society, and I can feel it crying when I slide the bow.

Felix: This next violin is made from American walnut, a sturdy, solid wood.

I call it The Gambler.

This mother door came from a downtown hotel called The Grand Horton.

I picked it up from Cecil Salvage on Main Street.

He only had a few left.

Cecil believed that this door was probably the door to the beer parlor on the first floor because it was much more worn than all the other doors, as saloon doors are prone to be.

I couldn't help but think about the story of a certain gambler who was murdered in the hotel.

As the story goes, he was a cheater and a poor loser, and he was chased up to his room by some angry gamblers trying to collect a debt.

When they kicked the door in, they found him cowering in the armoire.

That's where they shot him.

The man was able to stumble downstairs and into the saloon through this door, where he collapsed and died.

The fear he must have felt lying there on the floor as a lifetime of bad decisions led to this moment.

Dozens of drunken men staring down at him, his life slipping away.

Felix: This last violin is my favorite.

It's made from a door crafted of Brazilian cherry wood, and I call her The Strawberry Blonde.

The music she creates is unlike any other instrument I've made.

This mother door came from a little chapel in Old Town called the Church of Immaculate Conception and was built sometime in the 1850s.

It was a simple chapel made from adobe.

In the 1930s, the entrance doors were replaced with much bigger, ornate doors, but this door--the amount of love this original door witnessed is immeasurable.

This door was always open and open to all.

There was once a poor young shepherd boy who met a wealthy Danish girl in his church, and they fell in love against their family's wishes, but their love was pure and powerful and destined to overcome all obstacles.

Their love even inspired a famous book called "Ramona."

It reminds me of my wife and I when we were young.

I was a poor farmer in Kansas, and she came from a wealthy family.

They treated me like the dirt I tilled.

But Alice, my sweet Alice, she gave up everything for me, her family, her family's money, all just to follow her heart with me here to San Diego.

I can still remember her smile as we stepped off the train, not a penny to our name, but I felt like I was the richest man in the world.

The love in her hazel eyes gave me the confidence to believe that anything was possible.

I can still hear that love in this violin.

narrator: My great-grandfather passed away when I was just a baby, so I never got to know him.

The violins were handed down to my grandfather, Felix Junior, and he displayed them in his home with pride.

Sadly, in the 1970s, some burglars broke in and stole the violins, all of them except The Strawberry Blonde.

Fortunately, that violin was being loaned out for a symphony's holiday concerto.

My great-grandfather knew that so much of life is lived in the spaces in between.

In between the turning points and between hopes and dreams.

Between the boundless joys and the tragedies that we all encounter on our journey.

And all the doors we encounter on our journey are not just wood and varnish.

They are a silent witness to the highs and lows of humanity.

They are a hardened physical symbol of the beauty of life we can all achieve if we just have the courage to open the door.

♪ In a quiet room.

♪ ♪ Where the sunlight creeps, crafting melodies.

♪ ♪ That the heart keeps.

♪ ♪ With every stroke, the wood starts to sing.

♪ ♪ Whispers of stories where memories cling.

♪ ♪ Hands of an artist skilled and so wise ♪ ♪ transforming the silence into tender sighs.

♪ ♪ Strings come alive with each bow's caress.

♪ ♪ In a dance of notes, we find our success.

♪ ♪ Play me a song let it echo through time ♪ ♪ weaving our dreams like a life in rhyme.

♪ ♪ Let the music flow through the air ♪ ♪ so bright together we'll chase every star ♪ ♪ in the night.

♪ Jake Wallace: All right, welcome to day 1 of 240.

Throughout this journey, I will be your studly guide, Jake Wallace, soldier of the apocalypse.

speaker: Handicap.

Jake: This right here is documentation for our future Marine.

And for my lady back home.

speaker: Who's already fuc-- someone else, speaker: Ashley, I don't blame you for moving on, girl.

speaker: You miss these guns.

Jake: Looking like a Vienna sausage in there.

speaker: Look, I've seen it in the shower.

Jake: Hey nothing wrong with a little fun size.

speaker: Verdict's out on that.

Jake: What are you most excited about?

speaker: I think it's the camel spiders, but I also love the MREs.

They give you the sh-- speaker: Well, I'm just looking for some peace and quiet.

speaker: Peace and quiet.

Jake: Don't worry, there will be no peace on my end.

speaker: Okay, what are you most excited about?

Jake: Well, Pat, I'm glad you asked.

See, fellas, I'm a simple man.

I'm just out for some adventure.

Wanna hunt me some Afghans.

Yeah, a little -- speaker: All right, y'all, this one right here is real special to me.

I've known this dude for a good minute now.

Pat's a combat Marine who fought overseas.

Pat fought against the Taliban in Marjah, Afghanistan.

His unit saw more combat than 90% of the soldiers in Afghanistan.

And he's here tonight to share with us in the language we all know and love.

Pat Winters: Uncle Sam wants you.

He wasn't pointing at you.

He was pointing at me, a confused little boy unable to see.

Crying for his mother, begging to be free.

Free from what, you ask?

speaker: Tuesday, 9:47 a.m.

speaker: Ernie, listen to me.

I'm stuck in this building, and there's smoke, and it's getting hard to breathe.

I want you to know that I love you.

Please stop.

Oh my God.

Pat: Guilt, this family we have proudly built, consumed by cowards, crashing into towers, incinerating families, our hearts are devoured, but those cannot take our powers, so we load up our guns and enlist in the earliest hour.

Eighteen with a dream to take the souls of the men that made Mrs.

Winters scream.

Begging for her life, I make them beg for theirs.

No joy in that I come to find.

The joy is in the unity of toeing the line.

This brotherhood, this closer than close family, I can finally call mine.

I ask you honestly, what's worse?

Losing the ones you go off to fight for?

Or losing brothers you forged in the Marine Corps, those you promised you'd bring home?

"Protect the man to your left and to your right," they said, but you fail and he drops dead, enemy sniper moved his rifle 1 centimeter left instead.

You swear to avenge, "God as my witness, that will not happen again."

But it does, again, and again, and again.

Drumroll, please.

Your six months are up.

It's time to come home.

Take off your camis, kick back, clear your mind of these Afghanis.

That bleeding heart you bared arms to heal has returned cold and impenetrable like stainless steel.

Pat: And the guilt consumes those that come back.

"I'm fine," they say, as their brains lie still with shrapnel at 5 a.m.

in the cul-de-sac.

Civilians shrug confused, "He was a high school quarterback."

Not knowing post-combat you were a paranoid insomniac, the result of the Klonopin, Zoloft, Seroquel stack given to numb the troops.

Their overwhelming guilt and flashbacks, normal feelings.

On a return from the depths of hell to hell, civilians slap with their thumbs up, "Thank you for your service," and a pat on the back.

Not knowing most days I'm on the attack.

Begging my mind.

Stay alive for your son so he never knows loss like you.

Need I remind stay alive for your fallen brothers that fell liberating Marjah.

If only for that reason, stay alive.

speaker: Yes, Carrie, it appears a team of American special forces became pinned down by Taliban during heavy fighting in the city of Marjah in the Helmand province of Afghanistan.

The city has now been recaptured by Taliban forces after the Marines liberated and left the town in the hands of the afghan army back in 2015.

Pat: What was it all for?

You gotta ask.

A task carried out valiantly alongside adopted family, the strongest of the corps losing their lives in a process that led to reverse progress.

Jake: There will be no peace on my end.

Pat: Confused, angry, I fight to repress the feelings that make me a mess and kill me, so I get on this stage and I share my healing, or attempt to, a process with progress.

Though they fight to rediscover home and who they once were.

The calls have been made.

Uncle Sam can't wait.

He was pointing at you.

He wasn't pointing at me.

A confused little boy unable to see what it was all for.

It's up to us to open up and discuss, we must.

Let the pain breathe, so others can take it in and see that war isn't all it's cracked out to be.

Veterans, stand up, speak, and share so our brothers and sisters with the same nightmares can hear that they are not alone.

And for those that are eager to enlist, that they fully know the hell where youth and laughter go.

Alex: I swear to God, I'm never looking for a job on Craigslist again.

Why is it so hard to find a quiet driving job?

[mariachi music playing] speaker: Tom, are you deaf?

Good morning, hello, wakey, wakey.

I wanna hear it.

Tell me.

Answer the question.

Why does she get to do whatever she wants?

Tom: 'Cause she makes more money than you.

speaker: I want more hours, Tom, and a new driver.

Tom: Why?

speaker: All he does is sleep and smoke too much.

I'm gonna get cancer, Tom.

Tom: For future chemo.

speaker: All you do is complain.

Just shut the f-- up.

speaker: She should have quit this job years ago, and I'm stuck with -- speaker: Oh, don't be soft.

You know, I'm just kidding.

Can we get some doughnuts before?

Tom: One second, one second.

You got a driver's license?

Alex: Yes.

Tom: Sally.

Sally, this.

Sally, Sally, Sally, Sally, did you call her?

Sally: Yeah.

Tom: Well, for -- sake, what did she say?

You're playing Candy Crush, Sally.

What did she say?

Sally: She said stop sending her -- creeps or she's staying home.

Tom: Oh, you got the job, kid.

I like you.

Alex: Wait, what?

Tom: You got any priors?

Alex: Excuse me.

Tom: Any priors?

Do you have a clean record?

Any warrants, DUIs, any of that?

Alex: No.

Tom: All right.

Alex: The listing said you're looking for a driver, right?

But it didn't say for what.

Tom: Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah.

Listen, it's $500 a night, all right?

And that's 50% on top of everything works out.

It's an eight-hour shift, and you start tonight.

Actually, you start right now.

Alex: Hold up, you're gonna pay me 500 bucks for the night?

Tom: Hm, all right, I want you to take this.

When you go to this address, she'll be waiting.

Alex: Who?

Cindy: You're late.

Alex: Wait, how'd you know I was your driver?

Cindy: Tom said to look for a sad Asian guy in a Honda, and you looked kind of sad.

You okay?

Alex: Yeah, I guess.

Cindy: Okay.

Tom give you everything you need for the night?

Alex: Oh, yeah, he gave me this.

Cindy: Is your record clean?

Do you have any warrants, DUIs, ever been locked up like that?

Alex: Really?

Cindy: You got a weapon?

Alex: Weapon?

Cindy: Just forget it.

Put this address in your phone and drive.

We're gonna be late.

Alex: Okay.

Seatbelt?

Yeah, okay.

Cindy: You know, you don't have to stop.

It's a full five seconds at every stop.

Alex: If it's a stop sign.

Cindy: It's fine.

The room is gonna be 110.

Alex: Okay, okay, What are we doing?

Cindy: I don't know.

I've never been here before.

It's a referral.

Alex: Okay, not what I asked.

This is the place, right?

Cindy: You have to knock.

Alex: You want me to knock on the door?

Cindy: Yeah, that's your job.

Alex: My job is to knock on the door?

Cindy: Yes, and -- it's okay.

Alex: Okay, what?

Why are you whispering?

speaker: Who are you?

Cindy, you're Cindy.

I knew this was too good to be true.

Sammy's.

Good morning.

Axel?

Oh, yeah, who the f-- are you?

Cindy: My bodyguard.

speaker: Bodyguard.

All right, sorry, I didn't know you're bringing the muscle here.

This doesn't even work.

Come on in.

Cindy: You're intense.

We're gonna work on that.

speaker: Yeah, yeah, yeah.

Let's work on that.

Cindy: This place is nice.

speaker: You, my friend, quite intimidating.

Okay, we'll keep it all, cheaper than VA therapy, ain't it?

It'll be a half hour.

Maybe a whole hour.

Alex: Holy-- Cindy: You were about to leave me.

Alex: No, no, no, I wasn't.

No, I was gonna repark the car.

Cindy: Repark the car.

Alex: Why are you back so soon?

Cindy: I forgot my phone.

You're a horrible liar.

You stupid liar, you're about to leave me.

Alex: What are we doing here?

What was that.

Cindy: You seem like a genuinely nice guy, and I know the night started a little weird, sure, Alex: I had a gun to my head.

Cindy: Yeah, I know.

It wasn't real.

Alex: Are you serious right now.

Cindy: Look, if you want to go, you can go.

Okay, I'll call Tom, and he'll send me another driver.

But I really, really don't want to do that.

So please--look, I'll buy you food, and you can ask me whatever questions you want.

Alex: It's fine.

Cindy: Thank you.

Give me the keys.

Alex: So are you, like, a hooker?

Cindy: Whoa, Alex, boundaries.

Do you think that's kind of personal?

Alex: I thought you said I could ask you, like, anything.

Cindy: Oh, yeah, I mean, we just met.

It's kind of hard to explain.

Alex: And can I ask you something else?

Cindy: I don't know, it depends.

I'm kind of asking some personal questions right now, Alex.

Alex: What happened to your other drivers?

speaker: Ha, ha, ha.

Come on, Cindy, Cindy.

I know what you do for a living.

Let me just see one nipple.

Cindy: I f-- hate ranch.

Alex: Cindy.

Cindy.

Cindy: They're all creeps, very little boundaries.

Alex: Sorry to hear that.

Cindy: It's all good.

What about you?

You know, you're not the usual weirdos that Tom hires to drive me around.

Alex: Yeah, yeah, you know, I was just looking for a quiet driving job so I could work on some stuff.

Cindy: Oh, yeah, on what?

Alex: Lyrics.

You sing?

Alex: Not exactly, no, yeah, I rap, it's like a hobby.

It's not important.

Steve: Well, well, well.

If it isn't Cindy.

Who the f-- is this, your new driver?

Oh, wait, are you babysitting now?

Cindy: Be nice.

Steve: You know what kind of shit she put me through?

Cindy: Alex, this is Cherry.

This is my ex-driver, Steve.

speaker: Thank God.

Hold on, I know you from somewhere.

Yeah, holy, you're that rapper on social media.

Cindy: You're famous.

Okay, well, let's hear it.

You want me to beatbox.

speaker: The choke artist.

I told you about that, right?

Yeah, I have the clip right here.

He's about to cry.

speaker: Okay, okay.

Cindy: It's okay, Steve can't read.

speaker: No.

Cindy: Was that a secret?

I'm so sorry.

speaker: Is that why you wanted me to order in there?

Cindy: You made her order.

speaker: What the f-- are you looking at, bro?

I know how to read.

speaker: I knew it.

speaker: See, this is why stop -- you.

She devil.

speaker: She's just taking a-- Shut up, Cherry.

Come on.

speaker: Yeah, I wouldn't have texted you so much.

Cindy: Bye, Cherry.

speaker: You're not gonna tell anyone, right?

Cindy: Hey, whenever you're ready.

I'd like to hear it.

I bet it's dope -- Okay, let's get out of here.

We're gonna be late.

Alex: So are there any more random crazies I should be aware of tonight?

Cindy: No, everyone else tonight are regulars.

Alex: Great.

Cindy: But they're all crazy.

Alex: Right, yeah, I know the drill, yeah.

Cindy: Very good.

Alex: Yeah, thanks for what you said about Steve, by the way.

Cindy: Remember when you had a gun to your face?

Max: Cindy, oh my gosh, I'm so happy to see you.

Cindy: Your hair.

I love it.

Max: It's new, Cindy: Alex.

Alex: Hey.

Max: Hey, I'm Max.

Cindy: New guy, super nice, like, actually.

Alex: Thanks.

Max: Well, I got somewhere to go, so let's make it a quickie.

Cindy: I love, quickies.

Max: He's cute.

Cindy: He's a little shy.

We're working on it.

Alex: You said this one has big knees.

Cindy: Oh, huge.

More than I can take sometimes.

speaker: Cindy, thank God.

Good to see you too.

I need you this week.

I'm here.

Who's this schmuck?

I didn't order Uber Eats.

Check next door.

Cindy: This is Jacob.

He's a doctor.

speaker: Gynecologist.

Cindy: Special interest.

You get to wait in the car.

Alex: Yeah, I'll wait in the car.

Cindy: Okay.

speaker: Hey, awesome.

Got some deep stuff that's-- Cindy: Hey, Luke.

Luke: Hey, Cindy, my dad got locked up again, but he said he really needs to see you after he gets out.

Cindy: All right, tell him to give me a call when he gets out.

Luke: What's up, big guy.

Alex: Was that kid 15?

Cindy: Yeah.

How long have you been seeing him?

His dad, his dad, his dad.

You haven't been seeing him, right?

Cindy: He's 15.

Is this your rap book?

Because I keep seeing you opening it and closing it like that.

Alex, 10 and 2, please, on the wheel.

Alex: Sorry, I didn't mean to do that.

These are--they're not ready yet.

Cindy: Who am I?

Part two.

Alex: Okay, how many guns have you had pointed at?

Cindy: I can't do it.

Alex: I was--wow.

Cindy: Stuff like that.

I mean, it's good.

Wait, I have to text Tom.

Can you go on ahead?

Alex: Okay.

Alex: I think it's the wrong place.

I think we should go.

Cindy: No, this is the right place.

Cindy: What's up, fools?

speaker: Shut the f-- up.

Cindy: There's a lot of need.

Cindy: We can take two, maybe three if we have time.

Alex: Hey.

speaker: Go wait in the car.

Cindy: Okay, let's get this over with.

I'm tired.

Alex: Yeah, I'll go wait in the car.

speaker: I feel like he's gonna cry.

Cindy: Yo, it's Cindy.

I'm sorry I can't get to the phone right now.

Alex: Hey, Tom, sorry to bother you.

I can't get a hold of Cindy, and she's been gone for a while.

Tom: What's a while?

Alex: Like two and a half hours?

Tom: Are you kidding me?

It's one hour max, two hours.

Look, these guys are all crazy.

He's probably chopping her up right now.

If anything happens to Cindy, I swear to God, I'm gonna-- speaker: What color is it?

To drive him to school in the morning.

Cindy: Oh my God, your head is huge.

It's kind of hurting me.

speaker: I'm sorry.

Alex: Cindy.

Cindy?

Cindy: Alex, oh my God, it's been two hours.

speaker: What the hell are you doing here?

Alex: I came to see if you were, like, okay.

Cindy: Fine, you should have just stayed in the car.

speaker: You better not tell anybody.

Alex: Tell anybody what?

That you were crying.

speaker: Who's what?

Who's crying?

Cindy: Okay, that's enough.

You work on that thing, and I'll see you next week.

Alex, wait.

Alex, wait.

Alex, Alex, can you just wait a second?

Alex: It's been a long night.

Can we just go?

Alex: So what is it you do exactly?

Cindy: You wouldn't even believe me if I told you.

Alex: Just forget, it.

Cindy: Okay.

I'm-- Alex: What?

So you're not having sex with them?

Cindy: No, of course not.

I mean, it depends if they're, like, really hot.

I'm kidding.

No, it's definitely not like that.

Tom doesn't even know.

He thinks I've been out here tricking, but who's tricking who?

Alex: I never would have guessed that.

Cindy: This is not something I set out to do.

And I'm not gonna do this forever.

I'm saving up for something.

Alex: Saving up for what?

Cindy: That is a secret, Alex.

Boundaries.

Alex: I wrote something earlier while you were gone.

You wanna hear it?

Or I could just do it tomorrow.

You're probably tired because of everything.

What time do you want me to pick you up tomorrow?

Cindy: Alex, I don't ever want to see you again.

Alex: What?

Cindy: You need to find time to do more of that.

Maybe, like, a nice quiet office job.

I don't know, something, you know.

You're super talented, Alex.

And I'd hate to see you stuck here with-- Alex: Wait, wait, wait, wait, you've never even heard me rap.

Cindy: Oh, I took a look at your notebook when you went to the bathroom, wow.

Alex: What happened to boundaries?

Cindy: You should write about tonight.

Maybe I'll hear it on the radio one day.

And I can tell everyone how close we are and how I got you started.

♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪ ♪♪♪