All language subtitles for Ghosts Of War (2020) 1080p

Subtitles by explosiveskull
www.OpenSubtitles.org

Get down!

Get back! Get back!

It's not working!

Medic! Medic!

What's your name?

Gunfire everywhere!

Incoming!

What do you want?

Hey, Butchie.

You got an extra pair
of them socks?

These dogs is
itching me like crazy.

Should've packed two pair.

I did.

Put holes in the first pair
after three days.

Damn it.

I wish I was born flat foot.

My cousin's kid brother
got flat feet,

he found out he couldn't
get into the army.

He hung himself
in my uncle's barn.

You're so full of shit, Kirk.

Your cousin's kid brother's
still your cousin, ain't he?

Why would you
call him anything else?

No kidding, he's my cousin.

Who would lie about that?

Do you even know why you lie?

Who you crackin' wise at?

The outpost
is 30 miles over those hills.

Let's move out.

Feel a jeep comin'.

How many M7s we got?

Maybe we should've
spared that jeep.

Still have
a long way to walk.

Yeah, 'cause it worked out
so well for them.

Nazis ain't
so tough now, are ya?

You ain't gonna be
needing this. Nope.

Hey, Butchie, keep your eyes out
for any maps, coded messages,

anything we can use
against these guys.

What do you
think I'm doing?

Hey, Butchie,
we got a live one.

You want I should
reel him in?

Or throw him back?

He's a major. That'll do.

Let's go, Jerry,
put up your dukes.

♪ When you're smilin'

♪ Oh, when you're smilin'

♪ The whole world smiles...

♪ ...with you... ♪

Huh?

Huh?

Shut up, Eugene.

Scruff fuck knows exactly
what I'm saying. Huh?

Huh?

All right.

- Huh? All right.
- Yeah.

Hey,
look at Rocky Graziano.

Mother Mary, this guy is good.

Nearest crossing now
is two miles over that hill.

Go get him, Butchie.

Yep.

Come on, you're swinging
like a ding-a-ling.

Sorry, guys, we're way behind.
Think I made a wrong turn.

Pack up.

I won't hurt you.

It's okay.

Take it.

Feels like
my feet are gonna fall off.

Once we get there,
it'll be cake.

You guys can sleep for days.

Who we babysitting
this time?

Not a "who."

A mansion or a castle.

It's supposed to be a big deal

when the 82nd Airborne
came through

and pushed out
the Nazi High Command.

We're to hold it
till our relief comes.

- How long is that?
- As long as it takes.

Yowza, yowza, yowza.
Clean sheets and toilet paper.

No wonder the Nazis
commandeered it.

Yeah. What's not to love?

Maybe he's just sleeping.

Yeah, not enough rooms.

Easy, little,
your relief is here.

You fall asleep star gazing
or something?

Get your gear.
Our relief is here.

I think I died
and gone to heaven, boys.

Man, you kidding me?

Look at this.

This place is as big
as Roseland.

It's bigger than my whole
neighborhood in Queens.

Okay, gear up and fall in.
We're out in two minutes.

- Wow.
- What's the hurry?

There's no hurry.

Why aren't you all
sleeping in the beds?

It don't have bedbugs
or something?

Yeah, bedbugs.

We put most of the mattresses
in the basement.

What's the story,
morning glory?

Any news on that thing?

No.

Uh, it doesn't
pick up much out here.

Must be broken.

Broken, huh?
Maybe you should leave it with us.

Eugene there is a regular
Marconian with a screwdriver.

Yeah.

Yeah.

- Can I go now?
- Not yet.

Where's the grub?

This place was
a crowd base for operations,

they stacked the pantry
full of sausage, cheeses,

wine and all the brandy
that you can drink.

Supply truck comes through
to re-up in a week.

They'll have fresh bread
and K-rations.

So what's wrong with the joint?

I mean, if this place
is like Coney Island,

what's the rush?

You're a day late.

We're behind schedule.
And some of us would like

to make furlough,
okay, asshole?

Let's go.

One of them left
their rucksack behind.

What do you mean
you never had fondue?

Were you raised in a brothel?

Give him pots and pans
and his Little Lord Fauntleroy.

Hey, how far's the nearest
cat house anyway?

Heard the French girls
are cut sideways.

It's the Jap girls that are
cut sideways, ya ding-a-ling.

I don't see why
we should be on lockdown.

We could be here all week.

I'm gonna take a look
around the house.

How about a fondue?

Eugene!

The cheese!

Boo.

This is the life, boys.

What?

Is that any good?

Oh, yeah,
it's about a machine

that's supposed
to be a mental portal

between dimensions,
but it turns out,

it's also a portal
between times.

You could've just said no.

Break's over.

What the hell is that?

Geez, what the fuck?

Three, two, one.

What the hell was that?

You saw it, too?

Not sure what I saw.

Earl Grey?

It's true.

My cousin's letter says,
"They're treating SPOW as well.

"The food ain't so bad.

"And we get to play
baseball all day.

"I love you.

"And I can't wait to see you
after the war."

And then at the bottom
in the letter, he writes,

"P.S., save this stamp
for Uncle Harold."

Except there is no Uncle Harold
in the family.

So we analyzed steams
off the stamp.

All curious, you know.

And underneath,

written in small letters,
five words...

"They've cut out my tongue."

God.

What's that?

Ah, I found it in the basement.

Belonged to one of the Nazis
who took over the house.

Dieter Werner. 18 years old.

Nazi shithead.

You guys remember Louis
from Bravo Company,

the ginger from the pig farm?

How that old whore
stole his money roll,

locked herself
in the bathroom?

What about her?

He hears glass breaking,
she starts screaming bloody murder,

so he starts
pounding on the door,

trying to break in,
but the door's solid.

And for a couple of minutes,
he gets through.

Sees a broken window,
the woman's ear in the sink,

and written in the vanity
in lipstick,

"Welcome to the wonderful
world of the clap."

You're
so full of shit, Butchie.

Do you hear that?

I hope it doesn't
do that all night.

I might have to sleep outside.

You should
if you're gonna read crap.

Well...

I could see
why they left it behind.

It says what happened
to the family who lived here.

And what he did to them.

Guys, I think I'm going cuckoo.

Is that Morse Code?

I...

H...

A...

V...

E...

N...

O...

Bullshit.

L...

E...

G...

S.

"I have no legs"?

Jesus.

Oh.

Get rid of that.
It's covered in disease.

Tsk. Who you supposed
to be, my momma?

Stop.

That was bullshit, right?

Tappert,
take the attic tonight.

Best vantage point
if there's any conflict.

We can all sleep
in a bed tonight.

And stay within
shouting distance.

Until we know
what the fuck's happening.

Come on.

Open up.

Shit.

So, anyone wanna
talk about last night?

These boys seem like
they wanted out in a hurry.

Ever find out
whose rucksack that was?

Tappert's going through it.

Think he'll find any gold teeth?

He gives me the shivers.

- I mean, after Paris...
- Drop it, you two.

You didn't find them sitting
in a pool of blood.

Six or seven 15-year-olds
all... carved up.

Hitler Youth.

Guts all on the floor.

And he's sitting there,
you know,

with that look he gets.

That weird smile...

And telling me
they were smuggling diamonds.

He showed you
any diamonds?

What do you think?

Have I ever told you guys
this part?

He holds up his hands.

He's got string
around his fingers.

You know, a cat's cradle?

And he just goes...

"Your move."

All dreamily.

Okay. That's a little laggy.

One last thing
to pull your coat to.

It wasn't the first move.

You know, like, a cat's cradle,

the first 10 moves are easy
and then it gets hard.

So...

who helped him get
to move five

in a room full of dead kids?

Glad he's on our side.

I think I figured out
what put the bee in the bonnets

of the last squad
that was here.

Radio said there's
a German line coming through

from Nuremberg
to some kind of camp,

in... in Strasbourg.

There's some trucks.

Maybe a couple dozen
Jerries on foot.

Shit.

Look, I say we gear up,

head into those woods
and wait for 'em to pass.

We stay here,
we're fish in a barrel.

We can't leave.

Five guys against 50.

- It's plain suicide.
- We're staying.

Great. Okay.

Well, then I guess I'll just go up to
the attic and try to spot 'em then.

Either of you wanna
maybe come help?

Eugene?

Come on.

We can play cat's cradle.

Not talking about people
not in the room.

What?

What the hell is that?

Black magic.

Sacrificial altars.

They say Hitler is
a big believer in the occult.

They say, huh?

The Nazis must've committed
ritualistic killings on the Helwigs.

Sick pervs.

Hey.

Give me a hand, will you?

You wanna take it over there?

Yeah, okay.

Got it. I got it.

- Ready?
- Mm-hm.

One...

Oh, fuck! You motherfucker!

Hey, that wasn't me.

Get away from me!

God.

You hear that?

...burning for eternity.
They're coming for you.

We steal joy...

What is that?

...falls apart
and reap your memories.

I don't believe in witches,

but if an old hag flies around
on a broom stick...

Please tell me we're having
this conversation right now.

- I thought I was going batshit.
- Yeah, me, too.

Now I know why the last bunch
was so desperate to amscray.

I mean, this place is...

Haunted.

Unless someone's got
a better word for it.

Look, before the Nazis come,
we should, like, 23 skidoo.

What is that?

I...

F...

Y...

O...

U...

"If you..." L...

E... God!

A-V...

"If you leave..."

Eugene, what the...

What the fuck is happening?

I'm not writing!

I'm not writing! Ah!

Fuck!

If you leave,

you'll die!

What?

It'd be nice if someone left something
in these we can actually use.

I'm gonna go
padlock the front door

and make them think that
we abandoned the place.

If they come in
looking for food...

not our first rodeo.

Thanks.

Okay, they're moving on.

They're moving on.

Fuck.

- Damn it!
- That son of a bitch.

Grenade!

Butchie, no!

Eugene!

- Chris!
- Come on!

Where are you?

Chris, we need to cover!
We need to cover from the back!

He's not here!

We're coming to get you.
Where are you?

Chris, where are you?

Come fast!

Out here!

Oh, shit. Oh, fuck.

Shit! Fuck!

No!

This isn't real.

This isn't real.

Always gotta be the hero.

How much morphine
we have left?

Enough to do the job...

if we have to.

Take this trash out
with the rest of 'em.

What the hell did you do?

You wouldn't understand it.

Strip him down
and put him with the rest.

What the hell
does haunted even mean?

Does that mean
specific people have ghosts

that are somehow anchored
to the places they died?

Or is it the places
where evil's occurred

that makes the portal
to demonic forces?

Or was evil simply a manmade
concept in the first place?

Will you
give it a rest already?

Look, evil is just...

Well, it's what makes
the violence so much fun.

Everything we experienced,

it's what what the Nazis did
to the family that lived here.

The Helwigs,

despite their French
royal lineage,

were hiding Jews.

So, the house
fell into Nazi hands.

And when the Nazis
finally came,

they smashed the doors down

and the children ran and hid.

But Mr. Helwig was found
right here in the library.

So, the Nazis
tied him to a chair.

Mrs. Helwig was hiding
in the kitchen pantry.

So they dragged her upstairs
where they found her son

hiding in the armoire
in the attic.

They drowned her boy
in the upstairs bathtub

and forced her to watch
at gunpoint.

They found the daughter

hiding in the servants'
quarters. Cristina.

So they dragged her
upstairs to the attic

and hanged her
from the rafters.

They carried the screaming mom
down to the library

where they had soaked
her husband in kerosene,

laughing as they
set him on fire.

They tossed their bodies
in a heap.

No funerals,

no headstones.

Is that why they're,
you know,

still here?

No Christian burial,
that sort of thing?

Wandering the Earth
with unfinished business?

I'm gonna go
check on Butchie.

It's all right, bro.

Put it away.

My father was a milkman.

My mother was my dead mother
now a memory.

I always had a thing
for scary movies.

You know?

Abbott and Costello
Meet the Mummy.

I Was a Teenage Werewolf.

Kids stuff.

The scarier, the better.

After Normandy,
I've seen and...

Done things.

Did I ever tell you how
I didn't sleep for five days

when I marched
through Stuttgart?

Five days.

They say it's not possible
without losing your mind.

I couldn't tell if I was
dreaming or awake after three.

And in my more lucid moments,
I wondered if I was ever gonna

get back to normal again.

What I did
to those Hitler Youth kids

was a fucking nightmare.

And I admit it,
I got the control.

I wanted to kill the eggs
before they hatched.

It was like floating
above my body,

looking down on myself

when I cut that little
blond boy's head off.

It was like
I wasn't doing it at all.

I mean, I remember just...

watching myself sitting there
when that...

that body just got up
off the ground.

Total insanity.

Fever dream.

And then he pulled a piece
of string out of his pocket,

that... body without
a head, and...

and he held his hands out
and he made a cat's cradle,

and... and what am I gonna do?
I just cut...

his fucking head off,
Am I gonna be rude?

So I played with him
for a while.

And then he just

laid back down.

I'm pretty sure it was...
it was a dream.

I was just...
I was just too scared to move.

So I sat there holding
that cat's cradle for hours

until you came and you
found me with the bodies.

I completely forgot that
that ever happened.

- Yesterday I reminded you.
- Yeah.

Kirk, you forgot
to drain the tub.

I'm here to help you.

Let go!

Hey.

It's another dream, man.

How much longer can you go
without food?

So what're we gonna do, Chris?

No one wants to stay here
another night.

We'll be court-martialed
for deserting our posts.

Hey, Tap.

Do you think you could find that
Nazi truck again if you had to?

I mean, it wouldn't matter.
I slashed the tires.

Maybe our relief will come soon.

All right, Butch.

The next bit is about quantum
entanglement. Dullsville.

"And then the Martian visitor
explained that the deeds from one life

"are carried with you
into the next.

"So reincarnation from
Martians..."

What are we looking for, anyway?

I don't know.

Memoirs, dairies,

anything that really belonged
to the Helwigs.

Oh, fuck a duck.

You got your Zippo?

Yeah, upstairs.

Studying German?

You sure there isn't anything
you wanna tell me?

Is anyone down there?

What's up?

Get your asses up here now!

This isn't real!
This isn't real!

This isn't real!
This isn't real!

This isn't real!
This isn't real!

This isn't real!
This isn't real!

- Where's the damn morphine?
- This isn't real!

- Eugene, morphine!
- This isn't real!

It's in the medical kit.

This isn't real!
It was us! It was us!

It was us! It was us!
It was us!

- What was us? What was us?
- It was us! It was us!

Remember.

Come downstairs.

We need to talk.

We're not staying another night.

I'm not saying
we abandon post,

but maybe take a new position
in the woods or something.

Just frankly, my dear,
fuck the court-martial.

This place is bad juju.

I think we should give him
a proper burial.

- Oh.
- Send him off to heaven.

Or the other place.

Does the journal say
where the bodies are dumped?

Let me see the journal.

I don't understand.

No kidding. It's in German.

You could barely order
champagne in Paris.

Does Dieter say
where they put the bodies?

I'll check, okay?

But right now, let's get out
of this house.

And you're all willing
to die in a military prison?

Yes.

I want everyone geared up and
ready to clear out. Double time.

All right.

We better get
our stories straight

before we get to base camp.

Like, "the German soldiers
burned the castle down."

That story ain't gonna
seem so straight

when they find the place
in one piece.

Maybe we should've torched it.

Maybe it wouldn't let us.

Do we keep going?

We could, uh,
flip a coin, I guess.

You guys ever read An
Occurrence at Owl Creek Bridge?

The entire story takes place

in the mind of the guy
hanging from a noose?

We're dead.

Heaven fucking sucks.

Unless it's the other place.

Well, that's what
they say, right?

Hell is repetition?

You know, most cultures have
a version of hell

where the dead relive their sins
over and over for eternity.

Just trapped in a loop.

This ain't right, man.

Let's just turn around.

I just realized...

I haven't taken a shit
since I can remember.

That's a classic pick-up line.

Neither have I.

For, like, weeks.

That's not possible, right?

No, it's not.

Situation normal, all fucked up.

Snafu, all right.

Okay, I'm just gonna say
what we're all thinking.

If we march tomorrow
and return...

One day at a time.

Like the drunk said.

This ain't right, man.

Let's just turn around.

Maybe the compass is broken.

Yeah, map, too.

It won't let us leave.

What if...

What if we gave him a proper
burial and all, like you said?

Did the journal 20
the body dump?

The last page was missing.

We need to communicate
with the spirits.

Find out where the remains are.

Are you baking them a cake?

Footsteps.
I want to see where they go.

Vetrulek.

Where'd you hear that word?

Hmm?

Vetrulek?

It's just something
that's been...

...floating around my head.

Triple word score on that one.

No, Dieter mentions that word.

It's an old Muslim belief.

Uh, "If you let evil happen,
it could come back to haunt you tenfold."

Like all that's required for evil
to triumph is a good man do nothing.

Yeah, but more like a curse.

Why would Tappert
know that word?

What do you want?

Guys, help!

Guys, help!

Shoot her!

Fucking shoot her!

Help! Help!

- Shoot her!
- Shoot what?

Shoot her!

Fucking shoot her!

No!

Flank left!

Chris, we're coming in!

One, two, three!

They're here.

What is it?

It's the last page
of the journal.

Done.

We should pray or something.

This makes no sense.

What?

The Helwigs weren't French,
they were Afghans.

Yeah, this family,
they hid dozens of Jews in the walls here,

and spent a fortune providing
them safe passage to America.

They risked their lives collaborating against
the Nazis for as long as they could.

Since when do you know Arabic?

What else does it say?

Uh, just before she died, Mrs.
Helwig performed the vetrul curse

against the men who just
stood by and watched.

Just haunting them to the grave.

Can we just focus on one
fucking thing for two seconds?

Let's finish it.

Ashes to ashes,

dust to dust.

As I walk through the
valley of the shadow of death,

I fear no evil...

Court-martial my ass for all I
care, as long as it's not here.

Amen to that.

Hey, give me a hand with this.

Whoa! Slowly.

Could be booby-trapped.

Cigars?

Locked in a trunk?

Gotta be worth something.

Whatever.
Let's clear out in five.

Hold on a second.

Dieter mentions something
about a trunk in his last entry,

and once the Nazis opened it,
his entries stopped.

- What now?
- It's, like, some of the words are different.

Like, it...
It says something new.

What?

That interring them
only gave them power.

Power for what?

Power to bring
them back from the dead.

Break's over.

This isn't real!
This isn't real!

Get off of me.

Remember!

Remember!

This isn't real! This isn't real!
This isn't real!

This isn't real!

This isn't real!

Easy, son.

Take it easy.

It's all right.

Relax.

Two...

Hold him down.

Easy.

Get away!

Back off! Back off!

- Get a grip. You stand down!
- Get away!

Stand down, son!

Son, before you hurt someone,

give me that.

Ann, you pull him out.

I don't want him going
under like that again.

Don't worry if you
can't remember anything.

That'll pass shortly.

Where am I?

You were flown to a special
off-book facility.

You remember your last day
in Afghanistan, Lieutenant?

Give it a sec.
It'll come to you.

Let's move!

What's the situation?

The asset's the blue-chip doctor
for Islamic state's top brass.

- Co-operating?
- Yeah.

Fed us sight intel on the
last four high-value kills.

Put his entire family at risk to help
us, but he's been blown.

Go for sent comm.

So it's an extraction?

The plan is to get his family
to a safe house in Kabul,

but there goes our information pipeline.
Copy that.

All the injuries to your squad
were extreme.

You were far too critical
for the Kandahar trauma center.

The mind is a very powerful
healing tool,

but when pressed by
the awareness of paralysis

and amputation, it can
simply shut down and die.

Our computer simulation
is designed to help soldiers

recover from their
post-traumatic stress

as they heal
from their injuries.

Where's Butchie?

Why can't I remember?

I'm sorry.

It's not supposed
to happen like this.

Like what?

Okay.

Playing cat's cradle, huh?

You see this?

I was going to give this
to my boy. You want it?

Your hands are tied.
You want that?

There.

Hey, Paul.

- As-Salaam-Alaikum.
- Wa-Salaam-Alaikum, Paul.

Please join us.

Doctor.

Is this everyone?

Yellow-six, stand by with the van.

What's wrong?

That day we hoped
would never come?

Your name keeps coming up
on the cyber chatter.

What? What happened?

You promised to protect us!

I know, and I'm sorry, but look,
you don't even have time to pack.

Just get your children,

get your passports and meet
us outside in two minutes.

- Let's move.
- Echo 11, abort mission.

- What?
- Got three incoming land bogeys

cutting off all major arteries.

You got about
30 seconds to find cover.

Command jacked
into NATO satellite,

ISIS forces are coming
in from all sides.

Three vehicles.

Put us in the wall.

What?

ISIS is coming,

and they're blocking our escape.
Put us in the wall.

- Hide.
- Come, please. It is this way.

Here, here, here.

Cristina!

Inside!

Keep dreaming, man.

Extraction is now impossible.

We wait for the hajis and let the
drones track 'em back to the big brass.

CDE can put eyes,
we're ahead in five.

- Move!
- Fuck that, I'm not going in there.

You don't have a goddamn
opinion until I give you one!

What about
protecting the family?

Get in the fucking wall! Now!

Fuck.

Come on. Come on.
You have to hide.

Come on.

Get in! Go!

Shh.

You're done.

Drones are locked.
Nobody move.

See you at my court-martial.

We were never here.

With all respect,
fuck you, sir.

You got eyes on 'em?
Do not lose them.

Bomb!

Oh, God. Oh, God.

We should have helped them. We could
have saved them before it was too late.

And what about this guys,
they're still in France?

Why did you guys put us
in a fucking war at all?

World War II scenario has been
the most effective for linking

like-minded soldiers
with purpose, with brotherhood.

something the sim
just can't create by itself.

For six weeks,
you all were thriving.

Making miraculous recoveries, despite
your conditions, especially in the mind.

A few days ago, Butchie Martinsen
woke from an induced coma

for reasons we don't understand.

And when he saw his body,
he just simply shut his eyes and he died.

Which he tried to tell us.

This isn't real.

- Phantom itch.
- You have an itch?

No, in the sim.

Kirk was always
scratching his feet.

And the Morse Code we heard,
was a message from... us.

"I have no legs."

That was our subconscious mind telling
us what we couldn't see for ourselves.

And, "you leave, you die." Not a
threat but a warning about the sim.

You sent subliminal messages
to yourself, that's...

- That's incredible.
- Yeah, and dangerous.

There's gotta be a way
to shut that down.

More CTZ to the frontal lobe.

Your sim is haunted, you know.

There's a ghost in the machine.

Or a computer virus,
or a programmer with a fuck ton of issues,

unless it's supposed to feel
like you're in a horror movie.

- How so?
- That's not part of the program?

Sticking in avatars of
previously engaged combatants?

- Reliving old missions?
- God, no.

The simulation is meant
to be benign.

World War II was chosen because it
would trigger fewer real-world memories.

What about the word
"vetrulek"?

What?

You all whispered that word
at one time or another.

The Internet says
it's a Muslim curse.

What the hell is that?

We brought the Helwigs
into the sim with us.

We brought them to life,
gave them power.

But the program...
None of it's real.

It's real when you're
fucking in it!

The prayers, everything.

Get an evac team down here
immediately.

- You gotta put me back in there.
- No, I'm gonna sedate them.

- 20mls Propofol.
- Put me back in, I can save them.

We were blind to what we did to them.
They tried to show us but we couldn't see.

Just look for yourself. Were my memories
in Afghanistan supposed to be there?

Okay, I'll put you back.

- But what will you do?
- We need to face what we did.

Atone for our sins
before it's too late.

Do it.

Okay.

Initiating promotion
sequence.

Simulator engaged.

Memory suppression complete.

- Wait, Chris!
- In 10...

- Your memory will be wiped.
- Nine...

Eight...

Seven...

Six...

Five...

Four...

Three...

Two...

One.

What do you want?

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