. Forrest Gump [LATEST]

Then came Vietnam. The jungle was hot, wet, and full of things trying to kill them. During an ambush that turned the world into screaming chaos, Forrest ran back into the fire again and again, pulling out wounded men. He found Bubba last, slumped against a mud bank with a hole in his chest. Bubba’s last words were about going home. Forrest carried him out anyway, but Bubba died on the banks of a river he’d never see again.

Forrest Gump never thought of himself as extraordinary. He sat on a sun-drenched bus bench in Savannah, Georgia, a box of chocolates resting on his lap, and told his life story to anyone who would listen. His voice was soft, his accent thick, and his mother’s words always on his lips: “Life is like a box of chocolates. You never know what you’re gonna get.” . forrest gump

He left the company to Bubba’s family and went home to Greenbow. His mother was dying. She told him that death was just a part of life, and that he’d done just fine. Then she closed her eyes, and Forrest sat alone in the big white house, listening to the crickets. Then came Vietnam

One day, a letter arrived. Jenny was back. Forrest ran to her—four miles, three blocks, and up her front steps—only to find her thin, tired, and living in a small apartment. She had a son. A little boy with sandy hair and quiet eyes. “Is he…?” Forrest asked. Jenny nodded. “He’s the smartest in his class.” Forrest sat down on the floor and cried. He found Bubba last, slumped against a mud

They married in the front yard of the Greenbow house. Jenny was sick—a virus, she said, that the doctors couldn’t cure. They had one year together. Forrest took care of her, read to little Forrest Jr., and watched the sun set on his wife’s face. When she died, he buried her under the oak tree where they used to swing as children. “She was my girl,” he said, placing her Medal of Honor on the grave.

He didn’t know what the future held. But that was okay. He had a box of chocolates, a boy who needed him, and a pair of old Nikes that had carried him across America—twice—when he’d felt like running.

“I’m gonna take him to school,” Forrest said, lifting the boy onto his lap. “He’s so smart, Jenny. The smartest.”