All language subtitles for The.Memphis.Belle.A.Story.of.a.Flying.Fortress.1944.1080p.BDRipА

♪

(planes droning)

♪

♪

(explosions)

♪

♪

(plane droning)

♪

♪

♪

♪

(birds chirping)

♪

(bell chiming)

♪

This is a battlefront.

A battlefront like no other
in the long history

of mankind's wars.

This is an air front.

♪

♪

The working day begins
as it will end

with the ground crews,

as much a part of
the fortress as her wings.

If you're a mechanic,
you've got your own bomber.

You get attached to it,

but you know when your ship
goes out on a mission,

you may never see it again.

So you do your work
as well as it can be done,

perfectly,
because you wouldn't want

anything to go wrong
that would be your fault.

♪

Today, the bombs will be taken
from these bomb dumps

somewhere in England

and delivered to specific points

in Wilhelmshaven, Germany.

♪

To deliver them is the job
of the Eighth Bomber Command,

just a hauling job,

yet one of the most difficult
and complicated

of military operations.

♪

♪

General-purpose
demolition bombs,

impact velocity as high
as 750 miles an hour.

Pierce five inches
of armor plate,

destroy a factory.

♪

Briefing at 0800.

Pilots, bombardiers,
and navigators

take their places.

The group commander,
Colonel Stanley Wray,

steps up to the target map

and for the first time,
you learn where you're going.

Sometimes your face turns white
when you find out.

Sometimes the feeling
you won't come back

tightens your insides.

Not so long ago, you were
sitting like this in a college

or high school classroom,

not listening too hard,
perhaps even a little sleepy.

But you listen here.

And as you listen,
you don't have time

to think of yourself.

Fear fades.

You concentrate on the mission,

type of formation,
assembly point,

zero hour, route to target,

weather, enemy fighters,
enemy flak, route back home.

If forced down
in enemy territory,

destroy equipment.

If taken prisoner,
give no information.

Name, rank, and serial number.

That's all.

♪

♪

These are the passengers
with one-way tickets,

and this is the crew
of the Memphis Belle,

324th Squadron,
91st Heavy Bombardment Group.

Just one plane and one crew

in one squadron,
in one group of one wing

of one air force

out of 15
United States Army Air Forces.

♪

Well, fellas, we've never had
an easy ride over there yet

and today won't be
any different.

No escort except unfriendly,
so keep your eyes peeled.

Don't get excited and yell

when you're talking
on the intercom.

Save your ammunition
and make your shots count.

Let me know what goes on
back there, Quinlan.

Yes, sir.

Stay on the ball, gang,
and she'll bring us back

like she's always done, okay?

Let's go.

♪

They have completed 24 missions

in this, the toughest theater
of air war.

The big league of sky fighting.

Their experience is priceless.

And so, if the Memphis Belle
comes back this afternoon,

they will be sent
to bring the vital lessons

they have learned
to thousands of air crewmen

in training at home.

Home is America.

♪

(engines starting)

(planes droning)

This is a battlefront
like no other

in this or any war.

No monster armies,
no booming cannon.

Only the roaring engine sound
of the bombers

pounding through
the quiet English countryside.

This is an air front.

(thrum of propellers)

(plane droning)

(plane engine roaring)

(whirring)

The wheels of the Memphis Belle
leave the soil of England

for the 25th time.

The friendly soil of England,

with its ordered farms
and rural hamlets,

its country estates
surrounded by formal gardens

and well-kept parks.

The England these Americans knew

only from the classics
they had to read in school.

The England of the towns
and cities,

whose people have defended
their island's freedom

for over a thousand years.

But today, their countryside
has changed.

Today, their island
has been converted

into a gigantic bomber field.

A super aircraft carrier
anchored off the shores

of Fortress Europe,

with hangars and machine shops,

with hundreds
of dispersal points,

perimeter tracks,
and concrete runways.

This is England
in its fifth year of war.

And this is the new
battlefront, the air front,

from which we seek out
the enemy.

Not his infantry
or his artillery,

not his Panzer divisions,
but the greater menace:

the industrial heart
of his nation.

The foundation
on which the Nazi Empire

and its army stand.

The power behind
the German lust for conquest.

The steel mills and refineries,

shipyards and submarine pens,

factories and munitions plants.

Pinpoints on the map of Europe

which mean rubber, guns,
ball bearing, shells,

engines, planes, tanks, targets,

targets to be destroyed.

And these are the destroyers,

each with a belly full of bombs

and ten men like the crew
of the Memphis Belle.

Pilot, Captain Robert Morgan,

industrial engineer
from Asheville, North Carolina.

He's flown this ship
across the Atlantic.

The other pilot,
Captain Jim Verinis,

business administration student

at the University
of Connecticut.

Radio operator and gunner,
Sergeant Bob Hanson,

construction worker
from Spokane, Washington.

Navigator,
Captain Chuck Leighton,

chemistry student
at Ohio Wesleyan.

Engineer and top turret gunner,
Sergeant Harold Loch

from Green Bay, Wisconsin.

Used to be a stevedore.

Besides keeping
the Belle in order,

he covers the sky above.

Tail gunner,
Sergeant John Quinlan

of Yonkers, New York,

clerked for a carpet company,
but he quit

December 8th, 1941.

Ball turret gunner,
Sergeant Cecil Scott,

pressman for a rubber company
in Rahway, New Jersey.

Pilot to crew:

Ten thousand, put on oxygen.

They're climbing higher now,
300 feet a minute.

The strain on the planes
and on the men is mounting.

The rest of the crew:

Bombardier,
Captain Vincent Evans,

operated a fleet of trucks
in Fort Worth, Texas.

Waist gunners, on the right,
Sergeant Bill Winchell,

chemist for a paint company
in Chicago,

and on the left,
Sergeant Tony Nastal,

used to repair washing machines
in Detroit

when he was a kid.

Now he's 19 and has
two Nazi fighters confirmed.

It takes all
of a pilot's strength

to keep a 30-ton fortress
in tight formation,

but the formation
is the bomber's best defense

against enemy fighters.

The planes are deployed
to uncover every gun.

Stepped up and down.

Echelon to the right and left.

Arranged to overcome
the danger of gunners

firing into friendly ships.

Arranged so concentrated
combs of fire

from the caliber 50
machine guns cover the sky

for a thousand yards
in every direction.

(planes droning)

The friendly coast of England
slips by below.

It doesn't look like much now,
but in a few hours

when you come back,
if you come back,

this will be the most beautiful
view in the world.

Higher and higher,
climbing to reach

your best operational altitude,
25,000 feet.

Five miles straight up.

So high you can't be seen
from the ground

with the naked eye.

So high that after one minute
without oxygen,

you lose consciousness.

After 20 minutes, you're dead.

From now to the target,

you go about
your routine duties,

plot your course,
check your equipment,

and wait, and think.

Higher and colder.

Temperature:
40 degrees below zero.

Take off your glove
and you lose some fingers.

You look out
at the strange world beyond,

reflections in Plexiglas

like nothing you ever saw before

outside of a dream.

(planes droning)

Higher and higher into
the lifeless stratosphere

until the exhaust of the engines

mixing with the cold,
thin air condenses

and streams the heavens
with paper trails.

To the men in the ships,
they're far from beautiful,

for they point
like beckoning fingers

to the formation,

signposts in the sky
for the enemy to spot us.

For these bombers
to accomplish their mission,

a plan is needed.

Carefully worked out,
timed to the minute.

The job is to bomb Wilhelmshaven

effectively and economically.

The enemy is strong, skillful,
determined to stop us.

Here are his defenses.

Airdromes, well-dispersed.

Each plane indicates a Staffel
or squadron of fighters.

Heavy anti-aircraft,
highly-trained and accurate,

all along the coast

and defending
his vital installations.

Radar to warn him of our coming.

Here is our plan
to divide his defenses

and weaken his opposition:

At 1330 hours,
shortly after takeoff,

six groups of planes
will be heading toward

the enemy coast
from six directions.

The blue force: 100 B-24
Liberator four-engine bombers.

The white force:
300 B-17 Flying Fortresses.

The green force: 300 B-17s

with an escort of six squadrons

of P-47 Thunderbolts,

a force of B-26 Marauders,
twin-engine medium bombers

with six squadrons
of RAF Spitfires escorting.

Almost a thousand planes
and over 8,000 men in the air.

The enemy alerts
all his airdromes,

but which is our main force?

What are our targets?

Where should
the Nazi controllers

send their fighters?

It's our job to make them guess
and guess wrong.

A half hour later at 1400 hours,

the blue force will be heading
east across the North Sea

with the white force following.

These enemy fighters
are tied down,

waiting to meet them,

and will not be able to attack
the green force.

These fighters must come up
to attack the green force

and thus will be no threat
to the blue and white forces.

The B-26s and Spitfires
will bomb and strafe

a key rail junction,

diverting these six Staffeln

and preventing the enemy
from concentrating

too many fighters
on the green force

which is scheduled to bomb
an aircraft factory at Hanover.

At 1430 hours,
the blue force will threaten

this entire coastal area
of northwestern Germany.

Which target will it be?

Flensburg, the Kiel Canal,

or will it turn suddenly
and bomb Hamburg,

Vegasack, or Emden?

Actually, it carries
no bombs at all.

It's a decoy
and keeps the fighters

from the northern area busy

while the white force,
the main effort,

heads for the submarine pens
of Wilhelmshaven.

At 1500 hours,
while the white force

is over its target,
only a fraction

of the available German
fighter strength of the area

can intercept it

because of
the blue force diversion

and the simultaneous bombing
of Hanover

by the green force.

This is the plan of battle
for today,

drawn up by the Combined
Operations Planning Committee

and approved
by the commanding general.

The white force, lead group,
low squadron.

We've crossed the invisible
line of enemy radar.

The Hun is expecting us.

Steel helmets go on.

Watchful eyes strain.

Tight formations
are held tighter still.

Tense gunners more alert
because here it comes.

The enemy coast.

From up here, it looks
the same as any other:

houses, roads, green fields,
factories, waterways.

But they are the houses
and fields of those

who invade and oppress.

They are the factories
and roads of the people

who twice in one generation

have flooded the world
with suffering,

suffering in such quantity
as the history

of the human race
has never known.

Brought torment and anguish
into countless American homes,

gold stars, and telegrams
from the War Department.

The first flak.

Just harmless-looking
silent puffs of smoke,

only each puff
is a shell exploding,

throwing shrapnel
around the sky.

Exactly the range,

accurate flak
by radio prediction.

Five miles down,
Nazi anti-aircraft batteries

have calculated the altitude,
speed, and course.

Where will the next one hit?

You try not to be there.

(explosion)

The docks and submarine pens
of Wilhelmshaven.

Approach to the target starts.

No smokescreen can protect it.

Now the enemy knows
the path of your approach

and walls that path
with a flak barrage,

but you fly right through it.

Flak so thick you can
get out and walk on it.

(explosions)

Morgan changes course
every 15 seconds,

evasive action to confuse
the flak batteries.

Bombsight set
for correct altitude and speed.

Bomb bay doors open.

The bombing run begins.

Pilot to bombardier:

Okay, Vin, you've got it.

Now Evans flies
the Memphis Belle,

controlling it
through the bombsight.

And now, we are most vulnerable.

Committed to our bombing run,

we can't dodge flak or fighters.

Here's the first.

(gunfire)

(plane whizzing)

Top turret fires at him.

Evans must ignore the battle.

Crosshairs lined up on target.

Adjustments for wind drift made.

Two more fighters
diving from nine o'clock.

(gunfire)

Flak now has the range too.

(explosion)

They've hit this fort,

but he keeps on his bombing run.

(explosions continue)

As lead bombardier,
Evans's aim must be good.

Every other ship in the group
will drop its bombs

when he drops his.

Now, one pointer
on the bombsight

moves toward another
stationary pointer.

The instant they touch,
bombs will release.

(explosions)

They touch.

Bombs away.

(explosions)

(explosions continue)

(explosions)

(explosions)

(explosions)

The first half of the mission
is over.

The easy half.

Now to get home.

(explosions)

The flak stops.

That means fighters
out there somewhere.

A Staffel lurking behind
that cloud

or hiding up in the sun
where the glare blinds you

and you can't see them
waiting to dive down on you.

Fighters at six o'clock.

This is what a gunner sees.

A speck in the sky,
that's a fighter.

And then a blink,
that means he's firing at you

2,300 rounds a minute.

(gunfire)

(plane engine roaring)

In a running battle, one of
the most important instruments

is the interphone.

(plane engine roaring)

There's four of 'em,
one o'clock high.

They're coming around.

(gunfire)

Two fighters, six o'clock up,
coming in...

B-17 in trouble on two o'clock,
watch it.

Got an engine on fire.

(gunfire continues)

There's two more
down there further...

Three planes, nine o'clock,
coming around.

Keep your eye on 'em, boys.

- Around to ten.
- Watch them, son,

keep your eyes open.

There's a break at 11,
break at 11.

Two at two o'clock.

- Watch 'em, Scotty.
- I got my sights on him.

Check out B-17, Chuck,
three o'clock.

Motor smoking,
fire at 10:30, coming around.

10:30 upper or lower?

(gunfire)

(exploding)

B-17 out of control
at three o'clock.

Come on, you guys,
get out of that plane.

Bail out.

There's one, he come out
of the bomb bay.

Yeah, I see him.

There's a tail gunner
coming out.

Watch out for fighters.

See any parachutes, Quinlan?

Light at nine o'clock.

Eight men still in that B-17.

Come on, the rest of you guys,
get out of there.

Three more chutes.

Flak, 11 o'clock.

109 at three o'clock.

(gunfire)

Come on, you son of a b...

(gunfire)

He got him, chief,
look he's bailing out!

Dammit, don't yell
on that intercom.

Fighters at ten o'clock.

Watch those two,
they're coming in.

They're coming in, Scotty.

Get that ball turret out.

(gunfire, whirring)

Save the ammunition
as much as possible.

(gunfire)

Watch that fighter coming in
at three o'clock.

(plane engine roaring)

He's coming in on a half roll.

Pull her up, chief,
pull her up, hurry.

(gunfire)

This fortress is hurt.

Engine on fire,
losing airspeed and altitude.

Drifting into the flak,
alone and helpless.

A straggler.

In a minute, Nazi fighters
will swarm in like buzzards

for the kill.

You can watch,
but you can't go down to help.

You keep your formation.

(plane droning)

♪

Here, too, the mission
is being flown,

none the less real for being
in the minds and hearts

of these men behind.

Ask anybody who's been
to a field in England

or anywhere else
our bombers are based,

and he'll tell you
there's drama here, too,

waiting to see
who is coming back.

To watch them,
you might not realize

how tense
these ground crews are,

but they are tense
and plenty worried.

♪

In Air Force talk,
this waiting is known as

"sweating out the mission.”

These men know the flight plan.

Their watches told them
when the bombers were running

into enemy flak,

when they were over the target,

when they left the enemy coast.

And now their watches tell them

the bombers should be
nearing the field.

Every ear strains for
the first sign of the engines.

And then, somebody hears them.

And somebody sees
the first faint specks

in the distant sky.

♪

Every face turns to see

and count.

♪

The watches try to read
the numbers on the ships.

♪

These planes have priority
to land first.

The colored flares
mean wounded aboard.

In the hospital window,

these watching men
know what that means.

They know what it feels like

to lie on a bouncing
fortress floor

for hundreds of miles
through the frozen stratosphere

in great pain
with the other men in your crew

fighting to keep you alive
until they hit the field.

♪

The field.

Home.

It'll be okay then

because there will be
medical care, the best,

as soon as the wheels
of your plane stop rolling.

(plane droning)

♪

Head wound.

Concussion.

♪

Twenty-millimeter cannon shell
exploded

in his radio compartment.

Shock.

Internal injuries.

He'll be all right, though.

♪

Flak bursts scattered
flying shrapnel.

He's full of steel splinters.

This pilot's leg
is not a pretty sight.

Neither are the docks
at Wilhelmshaven.

♪

These men will all get
the Purple Heart...

♪

...and this man, too,
posthumously.

♪

A transfusion
right in the plane.

♪

This gunner is too weak
to be moved.

The new life-giving blood
flowing into his veins

might be the blood
of a high school girl

in Des Moines,
a miner in Alabama,

a movie star in Hollywood,
or it might be your blood.

Whose ever it is, thanks.

Thirty-six planes
left this field this morning.

Now, six more arrive.

That makes twenty home.

And this one is 21.

More wounded aboard.

Twenty-two coming in with
his left inboard engine dead.

(plane droning)

Twenty-three
with a feathered prop

on his left outboard engine.

Twenty-four, Southern Comfort,

with a chunk of tail gone.

Twenty-five, they flew home
on their luck.

Twenty-six.

Not a scratch.

The control tower learns
that two more landed

at a British field to the south.

One, a crash landing.

Crew safe.

That makes 28.

Twenty-nine.

A rough landing,
but her pilot is badly hurt.

It's a wonder
he brought her back at all.

Twenty-nine planes back so far.

Twenty-nine out of 36.

Our losses were heavy,

but the enemy's
were far heavier.

We destroyed
a German aircraft factory,

a rail junction,
submarine pens, docks,

and harbor installations.

That's specific known damage.

But who can tell the number
of German torpedoes

that will not be fired,

the number of our convoys
that will get through now,

the soldiers' and seamen's
lives that will be saved,

or the battles that would be
won instead of lost

because of what these bombers
and airmen did today.

♪

Pilot and tail gunner.

They can laugh now.

Fire on the inboard engine
did this.

Flames streaked back
and burned the stabilizer, too.

♪

Another crew luck brought back.

♪

Here's Old Bill.

A pretty good airplane
when it took off.

Lost its nose.

Lost its navigator.

Bombardier wounded.

Top turret gunner and pilot hit.

Hydraulic system shot out.

No brakes, no flaps.

But Old Bill came back.

♪

Now, among
the returned crewmembers

talk flows like a river.

Talking out every detail
of the mission.

These are the faces of combat.

Faces of Americans who have
watched their comrades die.

Faces that can never forget
the enemy.

And they are in no mood
to have their picture taken.

In the control tower,
Colonel Wray, group CO,

is still watching and waiting.

Then he spots the last flight.

Three more planes

and one of them is the ship
everyone has been pulling for.

♪

The Memphis Belle.

♪

The last few miles of this trip

have been a joyride.

The strain is over.

They can leave their guns now.

Now they know
they're going to go home

to Spokane, Green Bay,
Asheville, Detroit,

Chicago, Fort Worth,
and Yonkers.

♪

(plane droning)

♪

The Belle comes in
for a landing,

but first,
Morgan buzzes the field,

cuts the grass
with the giant fortress.

It's against the rules,

but this is a special occasion.

(whirring)

♪

♪

(squeaking, screeching)

♪

The wheels of the Memphis Belle

come back to the soil of England

for the 25th time.

♪

♪

This is a day
they will never forget.

♪

Another great day soon after,

Brigadier General Hansell
visited the field

and presented
the Distinguished Flying Cross

to every member of the crew.

And then, there was another day.

♪

♪

Their Majesties,
the King and Queen of England.

♪

♪

Johnny Quinlan never thought

anything like this
would happen to him

when he left Yonkers.

♪

The ground crew were
a little self-conscious

about being dressed in fatigues,

but the Queen thought
they were very nice.

♪

Finally, two more visitors came:

General Eaker, commanding
the Eighth Air Force,

and General Devers,

U.S. Commander of
the European theater.

The Belle crew received them
in flying clothes

as General Eaker read the order

for what he called their 26th
and most important mission:

Return to America
to train new crews

and to tell the people
what we're doing here,

to thank them for their help
and support,

and tell them to keep it up
SO we can keep it up,

so we can bomb the enemy
again and again and again

until he has had enough,

and then we can all come home.

♪

♪

(plane engine roaring)

♪

To the men
of the Eighth Air Force

who are now flying deep
into Germany,

bringing destruction to targets

almost a thousand miles
from their bases,

destruction like this,

and who have never once
been turned back by the enemy,

to those men, this film
is gratefully dedicated.

♪

♪

♪