All language subtitles for Comandante (2023) (1080p.ITA.Audiodescr.Sub) (Ebleep)

In the sea, we are all at the same distance from God, within breathing distance. The one who saves you.

-- Russian shipwreck rescued by Ukrainian skipper (South Pacific, March 2023)

Recoded and corrected by rocky

It hurts;

Fascism is pain, Todaro.

Well said again.

Take an ampoule of this, when the pains is worst.

- Thanks. - At your command.

"Well said again."

Stupid, abnormal, syphiliac.

The only pain he knows...

it is the pain his wife causes him.

When she jacks him in the evenings.

Salvatore.

Your disability is a blessing.

Nah, did you put the afterword in my mouth too?

I like you disabled.

Well;

Retired.

Half dead.

But alive...

and that's great.

And my prisoner and under my custody.

I'll take you to Montenero.

In the middle of the beach, to see the sea.

We will cultivate the land, we will have animals.

Even bees for honey.

Our baby is sick.

It will grow in the fresh air,

away from war and no one will harm him.

And we will always have food.

Because we will grow the food with our hands.

In the winter I will make you warm minestrone.

And in the evenings we will always sleep early,

because we will be tired.

We can have a good life, Salvatore.

Calm down.

Happy.

Rina wants me to take the lower option.

The disability pension.

What do you see;

"What if...

"What if Sisyphus did...

Sisyphus Aeolides;

Why did Glaucon have a son...

(author Glaucus Tikten: in defense of Bellerophon")

Happiness, my Rinuccia, I do not demand.

It is something that must be fulfilled.

A complete feeling.

A state of inactivity.

La Spezzia: Royal Naval Academy, 29 September 1940

This wind, I know where it blows all these children.

He winds them to death.

song: "Un'ora sola ti vorrei", Nuccia Natali"

♪ When you look at me I have in my heart ♪

♪ A desire that never leaves me ♪

♪ My life trembles next to you ♪

♪ I forget the world and you know why ♪

♪ Just for one hour I'd like you ♪

♪ I who can never forget you ♪

♪ Let me tell you again with my kisses ♪

♪ What do you mean to me ♪

♪ Just for one hour I'd like you ♪

♪ To tell you what you don't know ♪

♪ And for this hour I would give ♪

♪ My life for you ♪

Sign up!

You never know.

You never know.

You never know.

Some cowards, brainless and brainless...

they believe that "submarines" do not really fight.

Bullshit!

You guys! Total nonsense!

- Commandante. - What's your name;

Electrician Efisio Careddu, Commandante.

Order.

You will remain on land.

As you can see, we are the last to leave.

The Germans attack in packs, we don't.

We are Italians.

And we are alone.

The king, in all his majesty, will not be present.

Duce won't be there to guide you.

I'll be him.

The mother will not be present either.

It will be Marcon.

And whoever starts crying, I will throw him into the sea.

My Gigino, he is the cook. And he goes to die like a mother.

He goes to die to feed his companions.

I still have his juice on me, but it's not dirt.

Anyway, washing him off doesn't cross my mind at all.

This boat is excellent.

Look at it.

Touch it, hear it.

In times of desperation, this will tell you what to do.

Our trenches are not visible.

And the enemy is far away,

protected by layers of water

and steel, from thousands of millimeter cannons,

by a deadly technology,

which our tragedians can only imagine

behind their carved desks.

But it's there...

somewhere there, with his heart beating,

glorified by the spirit of his British philosophy,

but full of fear.

Just like us.

Don't pretend you're not afraid.

Don't be disgusted by fear.

Love him.

- Fuck him! - Order!

Ready to sail.

I ran after him from a distance.

Nunzia was also there with Angelina, but we didn't greet each other.

We were caught up in our thoughts,

which were certainly the same, but they were ours.

And we were silent with our thoughts,

with the wind blowing our hair.

You never know.

Our thoughts caressed these children for the last time.

These children who go to war, stressed and with boiling blood.

I know that these children,

with the smooth skin and unconscious smile,

they should be fishing for pearls.

And instead they go to war.

I know they won't come back.

They have mothers, sisters, girlfriends.

And they have to stay here, watching them disappear, one after the other

inside the belly of this iron fish.

They need to see them laugh and joke for the last time.

But these are not here.

It's just us here.

There are also the virtuous, those who do not allow themselves to be touched,

but they are already asleep at this time.

And so it is left to us to accompany them and weep.

Why;

You don't have to be a fortune teller to know they won't come back.

And if they come back, they won't come back next time.

Or they won't come back next time.

You don't need to be a fortune teller to know that at the end of the war

when the reckoning is done,

we will discover that the sailors are almost all dead.

And then, we will cover the mouth with our hand.

What a waste of life in this coffin.

"Ambush";

Do you think they gave this to us?

a submarine to wallow in the harbor?

Reaching the ocean, anything that sails,

if it has a cannon or cannon on deck, we sink it.

Atlantic Ocean,

get ready, you'll be blown away!

I'm sorry, but did you have to call me on this mission?

Yes, you and me at war against all.

I understood.

Me and you at war.

But to get to the Atlantic, we have to cross Gibraltar.

Gibraltar is a vicious monster.

This vessel has been found again in Gibraltar.

In June, we just entered the war.

Captained by Cristiano Masi.

Why didn't it make it to Betasom? Huh?

Why did he come back?

Why did they push him away?

Here you go.

Yes, but that's lucky for us.

Masi was repulsed by the English fleet

and fled to Ceuta.

There it was claimed that he had a broken rudder...,

the Spaniards hosted him for 9 days in the port

and studied the movements of the English.

Let it be.

But I tell you that the passage of the Strait of Gibraltar

is already problematic due to the currents,

and without having to be shot by the English.

Here, look here.

E.

It is tight...

but there is room.

It's like a hen's butthole.

So what;

Shall we fuck this chick, or are we fools?

Huh?

Say. Are we morons, or aren't we?

With the craziest vessel in the fleet

with the most desperate, deadliest sailor in the Royal Italian Navy

are we morons or aren't we?

- Huh? - No.

You and I have already died once, Marcon.

Are we so stupid to die a second time?

- No. - Are we idiots?

- We are not. - I can't hear, are we idiots?

- We're not... - I can't hear you, fuck! Are we morons?

- We are not fools! - Ah! Seamen...

We have an issue here that we need to resolve.

Here at Marcon we wonder,

"Are we jerks or aren't we jerks?"

No, we're not idiots!

- We are not fools! - We are not fools!

Here you go! A!

♪ The art of the sailor is to die at sea ♪

♪ The art of the sailor is to die at sea ♪

- Today harefish with garlic and oil? - You idiot!

- What are you listening; - Huh?

- What are you listening; - Here, listen.

- Oh, sit down. Radio Andorra.

If only the Duce would listen to us.

Needless to say, he actually likes Radio Andorra too.

And since the sailor's art is to die at sea,

to be here, in the Cappellini submarine,

73 meters long and seven meters wide.

Armed with 2 100mm cannons and 2 twin 13mm howitzers

four torpedo tubes 533 in the bow and four in the stern.

And with ammunition

12 533 torpedoes, 300 rounds per gun

and 3,000 missiles per missile.

They consider me the most murky and the most excellent captain

of the Italian Royal Navy.

An ascetic, a fakir.

Maybe even a fortune teller.

I know I hit her with the seaplane

and now I wear armor of iron and ropes.

The Greek spirit spoke to me through Betti, the tailor.

This protects and governs my destiny.

My victory is the battle.

Fuck, fuck your mother whore.

Come on! Oh! Oh! Where the hell are you going, huh?

- Idiot, I'm before. - But what "before"?

Let's go in alphabetical order! Come on!

My name is Bicienzo, with a "B".

- I'm right after Alfredo. - Hey, back off!

- Fuck your mother! - Oh, don't you calm down a bit? My horn!

Guys! The shower broke.

No!

Hey, what are you looking at, my cock?

- Bono, I am the son of God! - Take a shower.

Will you stop breaking my dog's hair?

- What are you making; Spaghetti with potatoes? - Can't you see?

- What is that orange thing? - Shhh! Shut up. It's a secret.

That makes it sweeter.

But you'll never make Octopus ala Lucana?

I like it very much.

If you dive in and catch some, I'll cook them for you.

I don't dive anymore.

I don't dive anymore.

- You don't dive anymore? - No.

And what are you doing in here?

Don't you dive in here too? It's not the same;

This is a very difficult question, Gigi.

Remundi, a little salt.

Yes.

Gigino, do you know all your family dishes?

No, sir.

I know all the recipes for all the dishes from all the regions all over Italy.

Nice.

There will come a time when you won't be able to cook anything but spaghetti and potatoes.

So when I order you, you will list the dishes...

continuously, unceasingly, like a prayer.

Yes Sir.

Order.

The use of daylight saving time

will continue after October 12, until further notice.

I have a message for Commandante Todaro.

You are there; Over.

A message for you, Commandante.

Here I am, over.

It's a personal message, Commandante,

from my cousin, Careddu Efisio, the one you left on land.

Three days after departure, he was admitted to the hospital

and underwent emergency surgery for peritonitis.

If he had sailed away, he would have died.

Careddu would like to express his gratitude to you

when you realized it wasn't well,

saving his life.

And with it the gratitude of his whole family,

including, if I may, my own.

- Thank you.

Commandante.

The crew calls me the magician of Baku.

They even painted it on the turret.

I don't get them, on the contrary I enjoy it.

But I really foresee things.

Straits of Gibraltar 5 October 1940

I see the enemy when he approaches

and I let him find me with the cannon aimed at him.

Another thing I see is that I will die in war.

But in my sleep, never awake.

Depth bombs from English destroyers.

We have a passage of 20 meters with a depth of 70 meters.

Lower the periscope and descend to 80 meters.

Five degrees down.

It's like a hen's ass.

We have to hit them on the head.

Did they beat us?

No, it was the shock wave.

It blew over us. It's pushing us to the bottom, stabilize immediately.

If we go down any further, we'll stay there.

The electrical system was destroyed. Carbon dioxide is rising.

- Course line right. - Course Line Right!

- Rudders on rise. - Rudders on the rise!

- Rudders stuck on descent. - Engines reverse at half speed.

- Rising air. - Bouyancy tanks almost finished.

We are below 100 meters and we are descending.

- Sulfuric acid from batteries! - Masks.

- Sealed! Seal it! - A pillow. Isolate the leak.

Over 120 meters deep.

We have to go up before we implode.

My dear Rina, to those out there complaining about the crappy butter,

give them a black eye, because they deserve a crappy life.

These children have more terror in their bodies than blood,

and yet they do not complain.

They transform their weaknesses into a sweeping power.

Just as they are, full of tension, waiting for something,

they could pierce the hull of a destroyer with their claws.

They are ready.

And helpless.

Fuses were replaced.

Air in the lockers, while it's left.

- Rudders on rise. - Rudders on rise.

It moves. One hundred and ten.

Minniti, what are we up to?

It seems free.

A hundred.

Seabed mine cables.

We got stuck.

- Don't even think about it. - Prepare the escape hatch.

You wouldn't even think about it.

It's my business.

With the compressed oxygen respirator at 20 meters

life is a flash.

A scratch, a nice shine

Sorry, Commandante.

Monday, what are you doing over there?

But where are you going?

Want to end up like a rat?

At most you have dived in a lagoon.

You may have seen a spider crab and mistaken it for a vulva.

Vicenzo Stumpo will go 20 meters deep,

the coral changer of Torre del Greco.

Get me the paper cutter.

Grab the torch.

I'm ready.

Flood the escape hatch.

Flood the escape hatch.

With the compressed oxygen respirator at 20 meters,

i have 5-6 minutes of autonomy... before i die. What do you say, father?

I'll make it;

How many and small. How cute they are.

Plankton is the seed of the sea

I have to admit it is nice down here.

Really beautiful.

Maybe I should take advantage of it.

Only I could do something.

I am 20 years old, I would like to get married.

I could fall in love with a beautiful mermaid.

We could be together every night, but what if she had a baby?

My Panazia, O mother, star of the sea,

sharpen that blade that doesn't cut.

Santo Vicenzo Romano, patron saint of pearlers,

you gave me your name, give me your power.

Jesus, don't cry, because there is nothing to cry about.

I just need to be able to cut.

- What is he doing; Won't he make it? - He'll make it, he'll make it.

Eternal Father, but the blood of the Eternal Father.

There is no. With hands, with nails, with teeth, with rage,

with anything, I have to cut this cord.

Father, what are you doing here?

Pass away...

Fuck you, death must wait!

Wait a minute.

If I die now, what did I live for?

- Depth? - Twenty five meters.

Engines move slowly.

Honor and eternity the memory

to the engineer-sailor, Vincenzo Stumpo.

The boat is now free.

It slowly returns to the surface.

I'll stay here a little longer...

Maybe a siren is coming now.

You go, you go.

I am dead.

What's next for me now?

Commander, the stern cannon is out of order.

- Keep repairing! - Order!

Mulargia, don't you like fresh air?

Clean air stinks.

What is this smoking technique called, Mulargia?

"A fogu aintru."

"A fogu aintru.";

"With the fire inside." This is not how the enemy sees you.

Put on some music.

- Tell the cook to make gnocchi! - Yes Sir!

Gnocchi.

With semolina, or with water and flour?

As you like.

"Inno dei sommergibili" (Hymn of the submarines)

♪ Black waves break through the dense darkness, ♪

♪ From the raging ♪ ♪ turrets every eye watches! ♪

♪ Silently and unseen, submarines sail away! ♪

♪ The hearts and engines of the ♪ ♪ commandos against the vastness! ♪

Batteries are repaired, no leaks.

Some bolts have come loose and the generators are not charging.

- How much time; - One hour.

We don't have an hour, Stiepovich.

♪ Hit and bury every enemy in your way. ♪

♪ This is how a sailor lives ♪

♪ Deep in the heart of the noisy sea! ♪

- Battle Stations! - Get on it, Get on it! Move, move!

He doesn't care because he knows how to win!

- Mulargia, shoot him down! - Ammunition, gunners, quick!

- Ready! Fire! - This battery!

♪ rushes from the submarine ♪ ♪ fast and unerring ♪

♪ Straight and sure the torpedo strikes ♪ ♪ the sea is crushed, crushed! ♪

♪ Crossing the vast sea ♪

♪ Laughing in her face ♪ ♪ Mother Death and fate! ♪

♪ Hitting and burying ♪ ♪ Every enemy in the way! ♪

♪ This is how a sailor lives ♪

♪ Deep in the heart of the turbulent sea! ♪

♪ The enemy and adversity ♪

♪ They don't care because he knows he will win! ♪

I may not have the authority to award a medal of valor

to the brave gunner Mullargia, but…

I plan to honor him somehow.

From this moment on

you can address me in the singular.

You can address me the same way

as calling me "you".

"Commandante."

- Oh, you see? Nice. - Gnocchi!

- Come! - Where are the dishes?

- Great, Gigino! - Let's go.

- Take it. - Thanks.

- Do we have Parmesan? - A little.

- We will eat! - Give it here, come on.

Take.

- Take it. - Pass the dishes.

- Plates, guys. - Take it, come on.

The dishes. Thanks.

Give. There's nothing … we are good here.

- First course. - Here we are.

- Come. - Ah!

How many have you made, Gigino?

And now... bon appetit!

Good appetite!

There are truffle dogs and gnocchi dogs.

My dear Rina, perhaps the Greek meant

that it is not enough to hide so as not to be seen.

It's been quiet for a week now.

By day we sail underwater, by night we surface,

very far from the goal of our mission

called "Ambush".

The drinking water is with tin.

Pancakes.

Gnocchi is now a distant dream.

Sponge cake.

Macaroons.

Almond paste.

Cake.

Mandovana cake. Ricciolina cake.

Yogurt cake.

Walnut pie, rice pie and ricotta cake.

Pumpkin pie.

Cheese bread and Easter roll.

Caprese Cake.

Milanese cake.

And almond and chocolate cake.

Krapfen, strudel, rococo cookies.

Biscuits of all kinds, pastiera napolitana, cassata tsiciliana,

Pozzuoli cassata, nodolato, meringue.

This is united Italy, Rina.

Here one from Livorno and one Sicilian are more than strangers.

They are the inhabitants of two different planets

and distant in language, culture, temperament.

And yet here is a regular melting pot of all dialects.

Small works of art and great works of intellect,

pagan beliefs,

the Christian egalitarian revolution

and old relics, all merged.

It is our treasure.

- Huh, Poma? - Yes Yes.

What are you doing, praying?

- Are you deeply religious? - Yes.

Eh, me too.

Let me show you something, just a moment.

Look at a cross I made for myself.

You can kiss him.

- Oh, what the fuck are you doing? - Oh!

- You're an idiot; - You are filthy, Leandri.

You are a cat.

Do not blaspheme the Lord, do not dare!

Cut it out!

Nothing holds up in this submarine anymore!

I made a joke.

- No big deal! - He's right.

And how do I know he's a fanatic? Let's talk Italian too.

You could tell me "I'm a fanatical fanatic" and I wouldn't show it.

Calmly!

Now throw this thing away, got it?

What should I throw away? It is silver. Everyone relax.

- Come on, take it off. Come on. - Oh.

I take it out, but I don't throw it away!

Oh my god! God, you must forgive us!

What nonsense are we doing!

You must forgive us, you must…

Oops, I broke my arm.

Such a brothel, lovely and rotten…

it's Italy.

My dear Rina, we should be proud of our struggle

and pass that pride on to our son.

And be patient when I can't text you.

We only turn on the radio in extreme cases.

My back hurts, but I'm not touching the morphine, even though I'd like to.

How I would like it.

I do yoga when I'm sad

because I miss Sottomarina, Don Voltolina

who does not eat so that someone who is hungrier than himself can eat.

And so I heal the ills of distance with a stronger ill.

I call Marcon and ask him to speak to me in the dialect.

The honey of the mother tongue lulls me.

I no longer feel the distance, instead I feel that I am indeed there.

Stay here.

And wake me up in an hour or so.

An hour is extremely short, Salvatore...

In an hour I told you...

It's an order.

Atlantic Ocean October 15, 1940

At eleven, Commandante. Do you see it?

An eight, ten thousand ton truck.

Well done, Morandi.

It has lights out.

A cannon in the bow.

- Listen. - It does not show.

- Can't see what flag it has, huh? - No, Commandante.

He has a gun.

Sailing with lights off in a war zone. I'll sink it.

- Scuba diving; - No. Battle station!

- Battle station! - Rudder ten degrees left!

- Engines ahead at full speed. - Engines ahead at full speed!

- Lower the Breda [cannon]! - Hold bow!

Raise the Breda!

- Open! - Unlocked!

- Ready? - It's armed!

Tore, why don't we dive in and torpedo it?

These suppositories never find an ass, Vittorio. We'll stay up.

Poma has a broken arm, he can't shoot.

- Lower your aim, a thousand meters! - Quickly!

- Fire! - Fire!

Closer!

Pom! Huh!

...

Poma!

Make a point!

- Quickly! - Let's go!

Two degrees to the left!

Quick, two degrees left!

One squadron up!

Fire!

A thousand meters! Hold, hold, hold the shot!

- Close! - Armed!

- Go Go go! - Fire!

Commandante!

- Commandante! - Go to me, go to me!

Enemy gun out of action!

He called three children to carry him down.

No!

I saw my foot, Commandante. Leave me here.

I want to see the enemy sink.

Lesen, charting course 0-9-0 and firing 533 torpedoes.

Plotting course 0-9-0 and firing 533 torpedo.

You were right, Commandante.

This boat is excellent.

It's a doll machine!

And this is a war based on machines.

And peace, it will be a peace based on machines.

Someday machines will think too.

And they will think logically.

They will be better than men.

One two Three,

four, five, six, seven.

Miss. Long shot!

- Repeat increasing to 30 degrees? - No. Asto.

- Mulargia? - Yes!

- Continue approach maneuver. - Approach maneuver.

- Sink it. - Order!

They are Belgians, Commandante.

Yes, and they should be neutral.

Point it out to them.

...

Maximum alertness for any aerial threats.

Two men in the sea! Approaching from the left, Commandante!

Three more in the bow!

What are we doing, Commandante?

...

Tore, the Nazis leave them in the sea.

What are we going to do;

We will collect them.

Mancini, drop the net!

- Nucifero, the propellor! - Order.

You speak French;

Speak Italian.

Introduce yourself.

Third Officer Jacques Reclercq.

- And what was the merchant ship called? - Kabalo, under the Belgian flag.

- Neutral in the war. - And then why did you shoot?

Do you speak Italian too?

Flemish.

How many boats have you lowered into the sea?

Two.

You know I can't let you on the boat?

Yes.

Give them basic necessities.

Bring water, food and blankets, get moving!

Do you have a compass and compass?

- Yes. - I leave you water and food.

We are at 31 degrees 80 north, 31 and 30 west.

Where did you want to go?

To Madeira.

Stay the course.

Put them back in the lifeboat.

Let's go! Go ahead!

Help him.

Jacques!

Bring him down.

Apples!

All supplies to come from here at Marcel. Come on.

No special tombstones are provided for submariners

or handmade crosses.

In the submarine, Danilo Stiepovich…

lieutenant, Italian, who died a hero,

we offer our silent tears…

and a coral cross.

The same coral that another hero liked to fish for,

engineer-sailor Vincenzo Stumpo,

coral fisherman from Torre del Greco,…

whom we also say goodbye with emotion.

Caution!

When I was a child in Charleroi,

there was a milkman who had a daughter with two huge tits, that's all!

My cousin used to tell me that she was the one who extracted the milk that her father sold.

I believed it too!

Reclercq,

stop, there's no point in telling stories.

Soon we will be dead.

This is certain.

It's over, Jacques.

It is done.

Drop your latest bullshit thinking of his daughter

and then rest in peace.

Vice Admiral, Reclercq, translate for your countrymen, please.

The castaways of the second boat were saved

by a Panamanian-flagged steamer.

There are no other ships in the area!

Secure the lifeboat securely in the holds.

We will tow you to the Santa Maria area of the Azores.

Be patient and everything will be fine!

Thanks.

The English have disappeared.

At the port, before we set sail, I heard them say

that we are going to go to war on their side.

I hope so, otherwise...

why traffic in their war equipment?

And yet, in a second they decided that we don't count one for them.

It wasn't the British who screwed us over, it was the fascists.

The fascist pigs!

They are all the same.

Listen to me carefully.

I know, many of you are not prepared for this.

It's OK to shoot while on the surface,

to risk your life against the enemy.

We enlisted with this idea of sacrifice, we're not fools.

But let's take a look at the planes for a while

to save the strangers…

which under the guise of neutrality

perhaps he was in the service of the English?

Why;

It's not just about saving them,

but also that we have to sacrifice ourselves

reaching the limits of human endurance

to carry them ashore.

Lieutenant Reclercq, translate.

Everyone should be aware.

We are approximately 300 miles from Santa Maria in the Azores

which is the nearest safe port for castaways to disembark.

Because we are overweight…

we cannot maintain speed above six or seven knots.

So we will have to live in this situation for about 48 hours.

I want to be very clear.

Boarding the shipwrecked Kabalo,

it means I'm breaking the rules I've been given.

I know this and take full responsibility.

If on returning my decisions are not approved,

or not recognized, let me be relieved of the administration.

But now, here, my decision is settled and unshakable.

We sink the enemy's iron, without mercy, without fear.

But we save their people.

If you can deal with all these bodies, Gigino,

distribute some brandy to those who need it.

Take it to the black guy, the one with the burnt face. Come on, go.

The three wounded will remain in the officers' quarters, where they already are.

Three of us will help them.

I will be sharing my cabin with Captain Vogels.

So did Admiral Fraternale with Lieutenant Reclercq.

Some can be squished

in the control room.

Three, even tighter, in the toilet.

Five in the kitchen, standing, of course.

But everyone else…

they should sit in the turret,

because there is no other place.

This place is horrible, it sucks…

even when we are sailing on the surface, but there is no other way.

With the help of Commandante Vogels,

three-hour shifts will be set, in rotation,

so that your sacrifice is equalized.

I make it clear to everyone that in the event of a hostile attack,

the vessel should be submerged, to protect the crew.

If we find ourselves in such a situation,

for those in the turret there will be no possibility of salvation.

The words with which…

I wish to conclude this announcement

they are not mine, but the Japanese Emperor Mutsuhito's.

He said it at the start of the Russo-Japanese War of 1904.

"I wish life would go on as normal.

I hope everyone does the right thing."

That's all.

The Japanese won that war.

Did you hear the Captain? On your business!

Something has fallen on your feet.

Selvaggio, pull the washer!

I hope I don't offend you.

And most of all, I hope they do to you.

I noticed when you boarded that you weren't wearing any.

- Thanks, but aren't they yours? - I have more.

- Thank you very much, Commandante. - You are welcome.

Do you speak other languages besides Italian?

Portuguese…

English French,

Latin and Ancient Greek.

- Cigarette? - No thanks. I do not smoke.

Your parents must be proud of you.

Enough.

- They don't like my work. - Do you like it too?

- Now yes. - This counts.

Yes, Commandante.

Do you speak other languages?

French...

and German by necessity.

Damn fascist pigs.

Degenerate morons!

What do you say we do?

Come.

I'm coming, Marcel.

There.

Oh! Oh! Oh!

What the fuck are you doing? Gamioli!

Skatiari, what are you doing?

What is this, Commandante?

Cannons don't scare me.

But when the power goes out, that's when I get scared.

To arms, Commandante! To arms!

Did they do something serious?

They tore all the wires.

Cut their throats, or throw them into the sea, Commandante?

Fascist.

What did you say; "Fascist;"

I am a man of the sea!

Each of you, Italian or Belgian,

he will slap these shames of men

who put our lives in danger.

We do not kill them, nor throw them into the sea.

We slap them.

You start.

Twice they came to our rescue.

Twice!

Twice!

Twice!

My love, Rina...

I softened and showed pity.

After Stumpo and Stiepovich,

I had no desire to leave any more bodies in the sea.

I imposed upon them the punishment of the fathers.

So many slaps that, if they survive,

they will find the memory of the shipwreck sweet.

You didn't write everything.

Do the right thing and throw it on the beach.

Wake up, Tore.

We have to dive.

If we dive, those in the turret will drown like rats.

And if we don't dive, the English...

they will sink us.

I do not recognize you.

We are at war.

But we are still human.

There. It's English.

We have to dive.

- Reduced to three knots. - For God's sake, let's dive!

No, we'll wait. Stay the course.

What to expect?

Get within shooting distance?

Should the English put a bomb in our belly?

Let's get rid of them, Tore.

They tried to sabotage the ship.

We saved them and they wanted to get rid of us!

No. They will let us through.

They're already dropping us!

They throw us because they don't know.

- Now they will learn. - Are you crazy!

In five minutes we'll be within shooting distance! In five minutes they will sink us!

They will let us through.

But what are you saying?

They're firing cannons at us, don't you hear? We are at war, Tore!

We are at sea.

Give it to me.

Captain Salvatore Todaro from the submarine Cappellini.

Royal Italian Navy.

What are you doing, speaking to them in Italian?

Make him talk, at least he speaks English.

They understand just fine.

You never know.

We are carrying 26 survivors of the steamer Kabalo,

which we sunk three days ago

at location 31 degrees and 80 North, 31 and 36 West

We request free passage to disembark them in a safe port.

He says he can't dive...

because there are castaways in the turret.

He calls for an immediate ceasefire and twelve hours,

to disembark the rescued at the neutral port of Santa Maria Island,

and then return to the sea.

I'll take care of it, Commandante.

- What are you doing Mulargia? - I understand you, I just want to help!

I'll nail them right, so at least we can live.

That you who have a family can live.

Malaria!

I "gifted" you. Do not address me in the plural, but in the singular.

Cease fire.

My dear Rina, today is a blessed day,

for there is a wild heroism

and there is one more, before whom the soul weeps.

The sailor who wins is never that great

from the moment he bows before the defeated sailor.

Today, we and our enemies, together…

we were saved.

- You've never eaten one of these, have you? - No.

It's very simple, you put some oil in the pan.

- Garlic. Yes, you put capers, olives... - Gigino?

- Nothing left anymore? - A little, Commandante.

Reclercq, what delicacies do you eat there in Belgium?

Fried potatoes.

Speaking of delicious, what are you eating? What is your national dish?

Our national dish is french fries.

How are they fried?

Fries.

Fries. In the pan.

- Do you hear that? - Yes Sir.

- Did you know them? - No, I haven't heard them.

For sure;

I know about baked potatoes, baked in foil, stew, in the ashes,

a la Lyonnaise, in the shell, but fried...

I swear to my mom, I've never heard of them.

Are they tasty?

Delicious? They are fantastic.

- And where did you learn them from? - We made them. We invented them.

- Does it seem possible to you? - It seems strange to me.

Wich one;

It seems strange to me that we Neapolitans,

who fry everything, we didn't think of that.

Is there any lard left for frying?

- Yes Sir. - To see.

- This is lard! - Show them.

Yes. Raimondi…

- This is. - This is what we have here. Does it?

It does. They are pork fat, we fry them in beef fat.

Oh, sorry.

- But it's fine. - Okay;

Well, you will teach our cook

how to make French fries the Belgian way.

Yes, it's easy. I'll show you. Give me a knife and a potato.

Hey, Raimondi. Potato and knife to the master.

- You are welcome. - Thanks.

But that doesn't cut it.

Can;

- Yes, cut, cut. Come. - Thanks.

It cuts.

It cuts.

Commandante, but so far... eh?!

He does it better.

- He shows how he cuts them. - Yes.

- French fries. - French fries.

Here you go…

- Delicious. - French fries.

- You outdid yourself. - They are delicious.

- Delicious though. - Really tasty.

- How delicious they are. - Delicious.

- Well done, Gigino. - Not expecting.

Well done, Gigino.

- Well done. - Huh!

Well done! Well done!

Raimondi.

Go to those wretches in the turret, go.

Gigi', can you play us a song?

- A song! - Commandante.

- Do you allow me? - You are welcome.

Come on, Gigi.

song: “ 'O surdato 'nnammurato" (The Soldier in Love)

♪ Be sure of this love... ♪

♪ As I am sure about you.. ♪

♪ Oh, life... ♪

♪ Oh my life ♪

♪ Oh, heart of my heart... ♪

♪ You were my first love... ♪

♪ and my first and last! ♪

♪ Oh, life... Oh, my life ♪

♪ Oh, heart of my heart... ♪

♪ You were my first love... ♪

♪ and my first and last! ♪

Well done, Gigino!

Gigino, Gigino, Gigino!

Well done!

Well done, Gigi!

Tore.

I'm going to lie down for a bit. Wake me up in half an hour.

Tore, there's something I need to tell you...

- In an hour, go... - There was a message from your wife.

It's going to be a girl, Vittorio.

I'll call her Marina.

I won't meet her.

And you will take care of her.

- Do you have children, Reclercq? - No I do not have children.

Do it then. Do a lot.

I don't know how to thank you.

- There is a way. - Tell me.

What does it write?

- Do you know which text it comes from? - No.

It could be the Iliad.

What it says;

It is a genealogy, there are many such in the Iliad.

Could you translate it for me?

He says: “There lived Sisyphus, the most cunning of men.

Sisyphus, the son of Aeolus, who had a son Glaucus...

who in turn gave birth to Bellerophon.

Perfect, flawless."

That's it;

That's it.

We carried English planes.

Of course.

He continued.

Do you know that if I were you I would abandon you to the sea?

That's how war is.

Why did you save us?

Because we are Italians.

I have four children. tell me your name

so that my children may pray for him who saved their father.

Tell them to pray for Uncle Salvatore.

Salvatore. Thanks.

We are ready to set sail, my dear Rina.

I'm ready again

to drop and sink all the enemies I find in my path...

and to be again

invincible…

invulnerable,

when I save their lives.

Amen.

This is how it was always done at sea.

And so it will always be.

And those who don't

they will be cursed.

Seven days after the sinking of the Kabalo, Belgium abandoned neutrality and entered the war on the side of England.

Salvatore Todaro died two years later on December 14, 1942. He was hit by machine gun fire from a British Spitfire off the coast of la Galite, Tunisia. In his sleep, as he had predicted

All of Kabalo's crew managed to survive the war.

In peacetime, Vogel, Reclercq and their companions traveled to Livorno to meet his wife Rina and daughter Graziella Marina, whom the Vice-Captain never had the pleasure of meeting.

Of the Regia Marina Militare Italiana's fleet of 112 submarines, only 19 survived the war.

All the rest rest at the bottom of the sea, covered with coral crosses.

Commandante