Das Boot

Our bosun's mate.

Been on quite a bender tonight.

Who are those pigs?

Their fireboat drill.

They're all from my boat.

Captain.

Marten's crew.

They move out at dawn.

It's time to find ourselves

a little French quail.

Do you know how to flush it out?

They're scared. They comfort

themselves in women and schnapps.

- What's going on here?

- Ready... Fire!

- Sir.

- My second officer.

This is Lieutenant Werner.

War correspondent.

He'll ship out with us, and report

the truth about life on a submarine.

- Welcome on board, Lieutenant.

- Good evening.

Come and have a drink with us.

- Good evening, Captain.

- Two beers, please.

Where's our friend Thomsen?

He should be celebrating his medal.

Have you talked to your wife?

No calls to Germany

before 10 o'clock.

- Two beers.

- Thanks.

Captain.

My report from U96, sir.

All provisions and arms aboard.

- Thank you.

- One more thing, Captain.

On the way here

some of the crew molested me.

It was... quite outrageous.

- They stopped me and...

- You were initiated?

- Exactly.

- Me, too.

May I have your attention?

Silence would be appreciated!

I'd like to call on Lt. Thomsen,

our latest hero!

Thomsen is from the old guard.

He's always drunk now.

Quiet in this whorehouse!

To our wonderful... abstaining...

womanless Fuhrer, -

- who rose gloriously

from an apprentice painter -

- to become the world's

greatest battle strategist.

Isn't it true?

He's a great naval expert.

Who, in his infinite wisdom...

How does it go again?

Our great Fuhrer has been showing

their English bed-wetter...

... the cigar-chomping

a**hole Churchill...

... where exactly to go

and stick his stinking cigars.

Excuse me.

I'll see you in the morning.

I must phone home.

Phillip, the old bunch has gone.

Look at these new heroes.

All wind and smoke. Big mouths.

Yeah, yeah...

Cheeks together.

Balls in hand.

And the belief in our Fuhrer

in their eyes.

They will know in time.

Combat! Conquer! Order!

Come on, Phillip.

Give me a hand. Help me get him up.

I wanted to really...

screw my brains out tonight, -

- but I'm not

in any condition to f***.

That's Thomsen's boat.

Find anything wrong with our boat?

- The propeller plate was banged.

- I see.

- That explains the whining noise.

- We've got a brand new one.

That's our boat.

Stand by for inspection! Attention!

Eyes left!

All hands present and accounted for.

The boat is clear for sea, Captain.

Thank you, Number One.

At ease.

Well, men...

- All set?

- All set, sir!

We have a guest on board.

Lt. Werner.

A war correspondent.

He has even brought his camera.

He is writing about war heroes.

See you remember your manners.

- Aye-aye, sir!

- Harbour stations, men.

Sink them all!

Get those crates out of here!

This isn't a vegetable garden.

Fish store, where we maintain

and store the torpedoes.

- You're going to be in the papers!

- Thank you, men.

Follow me. Here we have the can.

Just one for 50 men.

The other one's full of provisions.

You can't eat sh*t. Logical, no?

Here's the Chief Petty Officer's

quarters. My home away from home.

- I've brought plenty of books.

- You have it really cosy here.

- Where are you, Lieutenant?

- I hope you don't get sea sick.

Here's the radio and the hydrophone.

The eyes and ears of the boat.

Here's the control room.

The boat's command post.

Through here, Lieutenant.

Wake up, you've got company.

Good morning, Lieutenant.

The petty officers' bunk

sleeps 12 men.

Two to a bunk.

One sleeps while one is on duty.

One man comes off watch and

climbs into the other man's stink.

You've got a bunk to yourself

since you're a guest on board.

- Here.

- This is your escape gear.

- You can use it in the shower.

- The mask helps out with the stink.

Of Frenssen's feet!

Come on.

This is our galley.

And here's Johann, our phantom.

Johann, everything in order?

- Permission to come up?

- Yes, Lieutenant.

It's better to take photos

on our return from the mission.

What do you mean?

They'll have grown beards by then.

The British will be ashamed

to see these shaven faces.

Pale-faced kids.

Innocents dragged from mama's skirt.

Sailing with them

makes you feel so old.

It's like a children's crusade.

- Permission to pass, sir.

- Carry on.

- Bon appetit

- Thank you.

- From Mexico, aren't you?

- Yes. South of Mexico City.

- Good there?

- Very nice. Good climate.

- Quite a way.

- As a German, I had to come.

- Did you work there?

- On my step-parents' plantation.

- You're the boss's son?

- You could say so.

- Stand by, fiirst watch.

- Excuse me.

Can I get by?

Permission to go on watch, Captain.

A new breed, our Mexican recruit.

A young machine.

He follows orders without question.

He's so uptight he could

crack nuts with his butt cheeks.

- Permission to come up?

- Yes, Lieutenant.

Stand by main vents.

- Shut out main engines!

- All hands forward!

All hands forward!

Come on, move it.

Come on, move! Move! Faster!

Get a move on, you guys!

It's an alarm, not a blasted cruise!

Get into diving positions!

Blow negative tank.

Stern planes ease to 10 degrees.

Not bad. Practice makes perfect.

It keeps you from getting rusty.

A practice drill.

- Level off, Chief.

- Bow up 15. Stern up 10.

Planes on zero.

- Levelled off, sir.

- Shut all main vents.

- Main vents shut.

- Dive. Let's see how she does.

Bow planes down 15. Stern up 10.

The boat is rated to 90 metres,

but of course we could go deeper.

There's a limit somewhere.

We can only take so much pressure -

before the boat will be crushed.

Check all valves.

Check all valves.

- The pressure.

- Yeah, sure.

Deeper.

- She must take this depth.

- 150.

- That'll do for now. Surface.

- Bow up 10. Stern up 5.

Our journalist is sweating.

Your girl?

French girl?

Do you know the flower shop

beside Caf A I'Ami Pierrot?

- A I'Ami Pierrot.

- Sure, I know it.

The two pretty salesgirls.

Jeannette and...

Francoise.

Nobody knows... but we're engaged.

Unofficially.

Can I see?

Very pretty. Really.

What's wrong?

She's pregnant.

Don't you know what that means?

If the resistance finds out?

A German baby.

I told her,

but she wants to have it.

- She wants a baby.

- You've got problems, friend.

Our masters spend all their time

finding Churchill new nicknames.

What's the latest?

Drunken pig.

Fat boy.

Paralytic.

For a drunken paralytic

he's putting up a damn good fight.

We'll cut the swine to shreds.

That is my firm belief.

Listen, smart guy. Mr. Churchill

is a long way from shreds.

I'd like to know how many

of his ships are getting through -

- while we sit on our behinds

waiting for orders.

Our patrol planes.

Where are they, Herr Gring?

The British have plenty of them.

Talking big is all he's good for.

Big heroes.

Nothing but hot air... all of them.

Put that one down. It'll make

exciting reading in your epic.

The Propaganda Ministry

will love it.

Music we need.

Do you think our Hitler Youth leader

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