All language subtitles for #01 THE CHASE OF FIRE RAID

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

♪♪

There. Practically on time.

You ready for your swim in
the great, blue Mediterranean?

Mmm.

- Well, Hitchcock?
- Colonel wants us to get back
to the unit, Sarge.

- Now?
- That's the impression
I got, Sarge.

Pettigrew's somewhere in town.

Bail him out of whatever jam he's
in. I'll meet you back at the tanks.

They said you had
72 hours' leave.

Yeah. Well, we'll
write my congressman.

Hold it right there, Sarge.

Colonel wants to see you.

Okay. Thanks.

On the double!

What'd I drag you away
from, some dress-up affair?

It was kind of
the opposite, sir.

Sorry to interrupt
your paid vacation.

Somehow the war
doesn't wait... for any of us.

We've had a mission
requested by the British 8th Army.

They've sent a replacement
for you. An Englishman?

- Anything wrong
with that, Sergeant?
- Yes, sir. I don't know him.

Colonel, we've got to
be sure of each other...

How the other man's
gonna react every minute.

The man you're getting
was in this desert...

while you were still
sweating out the draft.

Meet Sergeant Moffitt.

Sergeant Sam Troy.
Moffitt's with the 2nd Division.

Scots Greys actually, sir.

Any questions, Troy?

Yes, sir. Why?

That's all right, sir.

I'm very familiar
with the desert.

My father teaches anthropology at
Cambridge. His field is North Africa.

As a matter of fact, I
wrote my doctor's thesis...

on the ecological structure
of the nomadic tribes.

Before the war, I visited Africa
with my father on many of his trips.

Doing what, Doctor?

Oh, meteorology,
sand conditions,

odds and ends.

Odds and ends. Smashing.

Knock it off, Sergeant.

Now, this is
what it's all about.

Up to now, the fighting has washed
back and forth across here many times,

like naval warfare.

Only we're on
wheels, not in ships.

Now, there's no real front and
always open flanks to the south.

Now, this makes for
bad supply problems,

and the Germans have
them worse than anybody.

G-2 says that Rommel's getting
ready to make a major move,

and more than anything else,

he's going to need
gasoline and ammunition.

In the desert, the last
guy to run out of gas...

is the guy who wins.

Your mission is to stop
him from getting any more.

I said, when one looks
for a needle in a haystack,

one may get one's
finger stuck in it.

We know that the English
buried large supplies

of ammunition and
gasoline in this area.

We must find that place. Do
you understand? We must.

Now back here, behind
Rommel's bunch...

Rather far back now...

We left behind a buried dump...

About 500 tons of
petrol and ammunition.

We planned to use it
when we got up there again,

but now Jerry knows about it, and he's
been swanning around, trying to find it.

We're going to have a bit of a
race to destroy it before he does.

You know where this
dump is? Map coordinates?

Of course.

Then what do we
need him for, sir?

Navigation, demolition...
That's our ball of wax.

Show him the pictures, Moffitt.

Low-level aerial photograph.

Dump area when we left it.

Main part's buried in
the angle of this wall here.

Same angle, same
area... 0800 yesterday.

Not quite the same, is it?

See, the desert is like a lady.

Puts on a new face every day.

With all due respect, Sergeant,

you could dig in that sand for
a week and never find the prize.

But with a bit of luck and those
odds and ends of mine, I can.

All right, there will be many more
of them when you find the supplies.

And above all, watch
out for the English.

The English, effendi?

So deep in this
part of the desert,

which is yours?

Yes, my brother. There's a certain
unit in this desert that I have met before.

Wouldn't it be amusing if
they led us to it themselves?

- Who runs this caper, sir?
- You. With advice
from Moffitt as to route.

- Yes, sir.
- Very well.

Lieutenant Connole will give you the
rendezvous point and the radio code.

Carry on.

Draw what you need from
Supplies and load the jeeps.

Look here.

I don't think I've actually
met the rest of you chaps.

Private Pettigrew.
Very good wheelman.

Ought to be. He was about the best
kid moonshine runner in Kentucky.

Howdy.

The other's Mark Hitchcock.

Hitch is a high-class
boarding-school type. Ivy Leaguer.

I say. That's what we call a public
school. I'm a public school boy myself.

Well, don't let his
innocent face fool you.

Troy.

I seem to upset you.

I'm not upset,
Doctor... Just careful.

Knowing my guys keeps us alive.

You I don't know
from a croquet ball.

Any, uh, advice, Sergeant?

I'd suggest we start
with a heading of 140...

and make a long sweep to the
south and come up on the other side.

I admit it's longer, but that
way we'll avoid Jerry traffic.

We'll make up time
by traveling at night.

At night? Across open
desert with no lights?

Time is of the essence, Troy, and
we'll have the cover of darkness.

Yeah. At the bottom of a
wadi with a busted axle.

Hey, Sarge. Lookee.

Don't split until
I give the word!

Now!

Well, cat's out of the
bag now, I'm afraid.

And hardly a coincidence.

Oh, they've got
us spotted all right,

like possums in a gum tree.

About that advice, Doctor...

We're rolling straight
through till we get there.

At night? Across the
open desert without lights?

Really, Troy.

After they changed direction, this is
the last place you saw them... here?

Yes, it was there. Mm-hmm.

So, connecting this point with
where that idiot pilot shot at them,

extending the line...

Here is where they
must be going now.

They must halt
somewhere for the night.

Here, I think. Bir du Maages.

Now we must make sure
that we do not disturb them yet.

Do you understand that?

Jawohl, effendi.

Hey, Sarge.

You gotta keep us
out of the bad places.

We're tearing up the wheels.

I can't see a thing,
Tully. Just keep it moving.

That rear left feels like
it's grinding rocks already.

Night driving. I sure don't
want anything to happen to her.

- Can't we hold up till morning?
- What seems to be the trouble?

Well, we might be needin' wheels
mighty sudden, and if they don't roll...

Sounds logical.

All right, you two.
See what you can do.

Bloody cold, isn't it?

Yeah.

I'm sorry about all this, Troy.

I mean,

obviously you were right
about the night driving,

and I was wrong.

No, Doctor. I was wrong.

What's worse, I knew it
going in. It was a lousy gamble.

How you doin', Tully?

I've seen worse, Sarge.

I hope the thing will go.

If they say so, it will.

Permission to brew up?

- Brew up?
- Tea.

One always asks permission
of one's commanding officers.

Go ahead. Use the T.N.T.

Cut up small, it
makes a nice fire.

You seem rather
good at all this, Troy.

Surprised they haven't
made you an officer.

Oh, they tried.

I know what you mean rather.

You see, I was in the
O.T.C. at Cambridge.

My family have never quite recovered
from the shock of my enlistment.

They all seemed
to feel I'd been too...

protected for the ranks.

Shall I make you a cup?

Tea? No, thanks.

Great booster for
the morale, tea...

Even under the most
difficult circumstances.

Thanks anyway.

That's our spot all right.

That wall was in the air photos.

Unload the gear. Grab
the shovels, and let's dig.

Not yet, old man.

Pure waste of time.

Notice the surface pattern?

Runs against the
prevailing khamsin.

Sand must be about
15 feet deep here.

So what do we do now? Relax.

My wicket for the
moment, you see?

Have to find a spot where
we can break through.

Hitch, get on the .50s.

Tully, up on the hill.
Watch out for Jerry.

Moffitt! You hear those engines?

I do rather.

Striated lime residue.

There it is, old man.

That's where I'd lay my
bets. The whole packet.

Hitch! Tully! Wheel
that junk over here!

Sarge, they're
gettin' mighty close.

Tully, Hitch, take a
jeep out on the flanks.

Draw 'em off while
I set a charge.

Get that jeep and
follow me. Take this.

Forget the jeep.

That's it then.

I've got a spot of bad
news for you, old man.

Yeah?

I've asked my
people if I could stay.

Hope you don't mind.

Not too much. Looks like you're
gonna be with us a long time, Doctor.

I've put in a request for you.

Well.

I say.

Rule, Britannia!

Why, that's what Sam
always says. Isn't it, Sam?

I've been known to say it, when
I'm drunk or sunstruck, ma'am.

I'm Sergeant Victoria
Moore... Vixen.

Jack Moffitt, Sergeant Moore.

Uh, how do you
do, Sergeant Moffitt?

You are very likely
the nicest thing...

that's ever happened
to this part of the world,

and I should like to know
you much... very much better.

Might I take you to dinner?

Um, I think after that,
you jolly well ought to.

Care to join us, Sam?

You don't mind? Mind?

Not at all. Join the
club, Sergeant Troy.