Original subtitles

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- Who are you? - I can't see!

I'm blind! The sun has burnt my eyes.

I can't see a damn thing! - Come with me. Let's go.

- Who goes there? - Folgore!

Folgore!

This movie is dedicated to the Italian soldier.

It's a commemoration of a historic event,

faithfully reenacted without the use of archive footage.

The characters appearing in this movie are fictitious,

but symbolize all the protagonists of a heroic page of history.

November the 3rd 1942.

The English armoured corps, after their victory at the great battle of El Alamein

are now marching towards Libya.

But behind the moving front, on the far right of the Italian formation,

some men are still standing.

They're from the Folgore.

- Stay down. - Your wound, is it serious?

No Colonel, I can manage.

Down. How are you doing guys?

We're still here. - We're fine, Colonel.

Good.

Down!

- What about the men? - They're thirsty sir.

If we were on my mountains we could drink the snow.

It's the first time I hear an Alpine trooper talking about water.

It's that I forgot to bring the wine, Colonel.

Here's the Commander.

At ease.

Your company?

Severe losses sir. 72 men dead or missing.

- And yours? - 13 dead, one injured and eight missing.

- Yours? - 28 dead.

- And you? - I'm sub-lieutenant Borelli.

I'm the the only officer left in the 4th company after lieutenent Corsini died.

- And you? - 6th company. Colonel.

I'm the only one left.

Weapons and ammunition?

As of today 23 dead.

274 men available, 14 severely injured.

Weapons and ammunition.

Four machineguns, two English 88 mm cannons

Plenty of gun ammo.

No cannon grenades, therefore we can't use them.

Hand grenades: 75, including 31 English ones.

- Water supplies? - Only two bins, retrieved from an English jeep.

We've also lost our medic, Colonel.

His arms and chest are injured.

Nothing more.

War has destroyed everything.

Supplies, weapons, hopes.

They look so far, those quiet peaceful days!

Friar Gabriele had just moved into the Casoria monastery,

when he received his call.

It was June the 15, 1941.

Bless me.

May God bless you and may Gabriel the archangel protect you.

Come on, get down!

Move!

Hurry up!

Assemble!

Hurry up!

Come on!

Groups of three.

Faster!

Miky! Oh Miky, what are you doing here?

- Whose dog is this? - It's mine.

You know it's not allowed to keep dogs? Go!

Go!

GO!

Attention! By the left flank! March!

One-two, one-two, one-two...

- Halt. - Halt!

- Giovannetti! - Here!

- Delavigne! - Here! - One and two.

- Bellini! - Here.

- Moretti! - Here. - Three and four.

Tognon! - Here. - Five.

- Righelli! - Here! - Six.

- Salvi! - Here. - Seven.

Nardi! - Here. - Eight.

Santini!

- Here. - Nine.

- Damiani! - Here. - Ten.

- Villoni and Capitini! - Here. - Eleven and twelve.

Biava! Wake up!

- Here. - Thirteen. - Volpato! - Here.

Fourteen.

Mancini! - Here. - Fifteen.

- Bartolin! - Here. - Sixteen.

- Conti! - Here.

Eighteen.

Trobl!

Nineteen.

- Chianese! - Here. - Twenty.

You Alpines.

Out.

By the right flank.

One step foward, march!

If I see you making pranks like this one I'll throw you in jail.

Prepare your clothes for pickup.

Attention you all!

- At ease. - At ease!

Captain Santini! What are you doing here?

Private Santini Mario, lieutenant.

Do you like the moonlight, gondoliere?

- Parlez vous Fran�ais? - I wish I did milady!

- The police! Run away! - No, no...

And now, our flying daredevil, Damiani,

will execute a triple somersault with his eyes blindfolded!

- Carabiniere Bartolini! - Yessir.

You're confined.

Confined.

Confined...

- Captain Santini Mario! - Private Santini Mario!

Captain, private...

Mario Giovannetti, from Anzio. 83.600 kilos.

Match valid for the Italian Light Heavyweight title.

Go Mario! Go! Knock him out! Go!

Remember, take shelter from the rain.

Don't go where it's too dangerous. Be careful, my dear son!

Miky! Miky, you're still here!

Hide down here and stay put.

Hey!

- Hey! - Who, me?

- Off the bed! - What do you want? - I'll teach you! - What? - Down!

- You're making fun of me. 30 pushups! - What the hell, I was only sleeping...

You were barking like a dog. Come on!

Down! One,..

two... bend your knees. Three. Four.

Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Nine.

Ten.

Eleven. Twelve...

Fifteen.

Sixteen.

Seventeen.

Eighteen...

Jump!

Keep in mind. Arms outstretched,

and eyes open.

The next one!

Pull!

Go!

- Next! - Pull!

Watch out.

Ready? Go!

Attention!

- Action. - Action!

- Enough with the net. Let's do the brake. - Stop with the net! Brake exercises!

Go!

Next!

Get ready.

Go!

Another one!

Get ready.

Go!

Come on, jump!

Don't be afraid. Jump.

Go!

Get him out of there and call another one!

All right lieutenant. Buzz off!

Are you a paratrooper?

No, I've been rejected.

I had a vertigo attack.

- If I had one more day time... - What would you have done?

I could have overcome it. I'm sure of it.

If only I could talk to the Major, or the Colonel...

You're doing it now.

- Colonel! - Enough, boy.

I had your same problem the first time. I'm sure you'll be a good paratrooper.

Let's get back to the barracks. - Thanks you, Colonel!

Hit him Renato. Back off now.

- All ready to take off? - Ready.

You already know what to do once you're on the plane until the jump.

So I won't repeat it.

Rather, listen to me now.

Today is the day, the final test to become paratrooper awaits you.

Remember though that this test is different than any other.

If you fail this test you die. You can touch wood if you want.

I think I explained myself well.

But the parachute is going to open, right?

- Won't it? - Hopefully. - Ready for take off!

- Stand up! Come on, you damn wussies! - Let's hope good!

Launch directors, check the parachutes.

Don't worry Father, the angels will help you come down.

Angels usually help going up.

Easy does it, Sergeant.

How does it feel like when you jump?

You won't even feel the kick in the ass that I'll give you.

- What did you say? - That there's one for you too.

Hook the parachute ropes!

- So this is it, Captain... - Are you scared?

- Just a little. - Dont worry, it's easier than climbing up mount Cervino.

Get ready, we are in the target zone.

Out!

Come here Miky, it's our turn!

Miky!

Miky!

How are you? Was everything all right?

Let's go.

Hey, we're still alive!

Then, all of a sudden, the call of duty.

Tomorrow morning, Malta. What they've been dreaming for months.

I can't wait to be able to send a postcard from Malta.

My father always wrote me from the frontline.

It's taking quite some time...

Sand!

- Africa. - What? - Africa!

Africa...

That's even better.

It means we've been deployed to Alexandria.

That's the only explanation.

Where's the sea, Sergeant?

We're in the middle of the desert.

It looks like it.

It was Africa.

But not Alexandria or either Malta.

Months of training, of sacrifices...

It ended with an order. "Disengage the parachutes".

No longer Braves of the Sky. They would fight on the ground, like the others.

That day everyone felt like something was fading away forever.

Hey, what's with the long faces?

Come on sing with me: # Like a lightning from the sky...#

Sing, sing, we had to wait months to become paratroopers!

- And we ended up here, among the dunes. - Yeah!

What's wrong with that guy? Always quiet, never jokes.

He must have run in some sort of trouble.

He used to be a captain.

Halt!

I'm sorry Colonel, but you can't pass.

What's up? Why can't we pass?

Forbidden.

Minefield not cleared yet. Up to the burning truck over there.

- But the division must absolutely get to the frontline. - You can't.

Your convoy must go back four kilometers.

- How long will it take? - 5 or 6 hours.

Unacceptable! I have orders from the General Command.

Orders are orders. I have orders too.

Minefield, no one can pass.

Bartolini!

Are you crazy? Get back!

Bartolini!

Bartolini!

Come back!

Get off everyone!

But, colonel...

- Take charge of the column. - Yessir.

Follow me!

Come on!

Hey, wake up!

- Get ready to go on patrol. - Yessir.

Hey, Salvi.

You're on patrol tonight.

- And put out that fire! - Yessir, lieutenant.

- Don't move. Chianese, you're on patrol. - Yessir.

- He's feeling ill. He's been feverish the whole day. - Damn!

I'll come myself, lieutenant. Please.

All right, get ready.

- Bye Miky. Bye Chianese, see you later. - Bye.

Ok, let me recap the details. We are leaving at 21:00,

through breach number four, 120 degrees.

We come back at 03:50,

through breach number two, 310 degrees.

Emergency signal, green and red flares. Any questions?

- No sir... - Any questions? - No.

Good, it's 20:32.

Go, Weiss.

Salvi.

Let's move out.

The wind and the sand marked their days.

Always the same, for months and months.

Wind and sand.

Time is passing so slowly. All we can do is wait and wait some more.

And kill if you don't want to get killed.

That's war.

When will they end with this game?

It will take generations.

Yet life is still beautiful.

Even here, uncomfortable as we are, it's still great to be alive.

Air raid!

We've been lucky this time, huh? Hey!

Help me out. Hurry!

They went further on. We'll never get there.

Let's hope this jalopy will make it.

As long as it goes...

Here's the mail.

- What happened to your jeep? - It blew up.

We took this new ride, but we still made it through.

I'll prepare the outgoing mail, so you can leave tomorrow.

- The mail, lieutenant. This is for you. - About time!

- Can I distribute it? - Yes, give it with the rations. - Yessir.

Same old canned food, huh?

No. Chicken... lobster and caviar.

And tomorrow dessert. Here.

- Well? - From tonight half ration. Water supply hasn't arrived yet.

Hi.

No mail for you.

Dear Toni, it's me, your dear friend Pietro.

We are all fine here. Who knows when I'll be called back to arms.

We're all waiting for you, the taverner says that,

since you left, the grappa sales have hit an all-time low.

I saw Teresa yesterday at the church and she asked me to tell you...

... so they released my brother,

and the priest I told you about found him a job as cinema usher.

Maybe he can find a job for you too.

Jealous as you are, you will be pleased. There are no men left here anymore,

they've all gone to war.

So you can't be jealous of old men and kids.

When are you going to get a medal?

Get one if it's not too dangerous, I'd enjoy being the wife of a war hero.

I love you so much.

I put on some weight.

It's probably because I've just entered my fifth month of pregnancy.

Now I can almost hear our child, feels like he's talking to me.

I made myself a new pink dress for when you'll be back.

So you can tell me "How pretty you are!"

I love it when you do it.

By the way, I had a dream last night.

It was the day we married,

and instead of our few relatives, there were many, the whole town.

I was in white, and you in black,

and everyone was applauding and throwing rice and flowers. We were so happy.

Nothing new here. Father Antonio moved to the Perugia monastery.

You're always in our minds, everytime we go down in the garden

we remember how proud you were of your roses.

Father Sergio is in your cell now, he prays for you every day.

It's raining here, lots of water. You have the sun at least.

Is there an officer? - Over there.

Colonel, we have received only a fifth of the supplies we requested.

As usual, that's insufficient.

Yes, all right, we'll make do.

If you have no further orders I'm coming back tomorrow.

Thank you colonel.

Sublieutenant Gianluigi Corsini, assigned to the regiment.

Welcome among us.

- Are you relative of Lt. Corsini? - I'm his brother.

Good. We've been notified about your arrival.

The command assigned you to the 4th company, your brother's company.

- Sergeant? - Yes sir, Major?

Take the lieutenant to the 4th company. Have a safe trip.

Thank you Sir.

He's there.

My lazybones brother, still enjoying life in Rome?

Gianluigi! Get down!

Stay low. Sit down.

- But, do you live here? - Yes, as you can see.

Here's the living room, the study, the bedroom...

Well, it's not a five star hotel...

- You know what I'm thinking? - What?

If we enlarge it a bit, I too can fit in here. - It's a deal. Wait.

Look here.

And then... Whiskey. English.

They left singing.

On the desert border, an aircraft machinegun reached them.

They never came back.

The mail remained on the sand.

The usual field battery. Every night the same story.

A bit here, a bit there...

If only we could neutralize it.

We already tried, but it was useless.

They obviously have ammo depots hidden in the desert.

Santini, you stay posted here with your squad. Get back in two hours.

Allright, lieutenant.

British pounds?!

It must be that damned field battery. - I think you're right.

This could be our chance.

Put your hands up!

I congratulate you for your feat. An officer couldn't have done a better job.

Since I can't decorate you on the spot,

I will propose you for a medal. - Thank you, commander.

Hey, if I'm going to pay you, will you give me that can?

No.

Wait.

- Half each. - And what do I do with it?

They're pounds! You know what they're worth?

So what? Were it at least a glass of water!

The great battle began the night of october the 23rd 1942.

A massive onslaught of the British armored troops is imminent.

They have a new type of tank with a 120mm thick armour.

Our cannons can do little harm to them.

We can't count on anti-tank artillery, since we don't have any.

Our only viable weapons are mines, explosives and incendiary bottles,

but they are fallback weapons,

which must be carried by hand and exploded on the moving tanks.

We will organize voluntary groups of "tank hunters",

equipped with mines and explosives.

Major Sforzeschi will give you further details.

The vulnerable parts of a tank are their caterpillars,

the combustion chamber, the fuel tanks and the transmission box.

Therefore the explosive charges and the sticky mines have to be placed here,

here, where the fuel tanks are, and here.

You know that these mines we grabbed from the British

can shatter the most resilient armour

and generate a temperature of 3,000 degrees causing the explosion of the tank.

The assaulters must wait in the foxholes that the tank gets closer than 10 meter,

because below this distance the crew can't either see you or fire at you.

The company commanders have two hours to choose the hunting squads leaders

that will get more precise instructions.

Tonight we will start to dig the foxholes.

The holes must be dug at 20 meters intervals,

200 meters beyond the fenceline.

In each hole one man ready to attack.

Every company will provide for its own sector,

here, here and here.

In this moment I think I can express to you the gratitude of our motherland.

Corsini's sector. The tanks are advancing, they'll soon be within our reach!

Can you hear me? The tanks are right in front of the holes!

After days of intense fighting the tanks still weren't able to open a breach.

208 of them were lying on the sand, destroyed.

For a moment, war and death seemed distant.

They stood alone, the boys of the Folgore,

determined to fight and resist.

They stood with their casualties, their injured,

with their eyes burnt out by the desert.

I absolve you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost.

A stretcher!

A stretcher!

- Damiani! - Father!

It burns!

It burns!

One, two... no!

The fuse is too short.

Here come the tanks.

So many of them!

They're coming! We have to stop them!

It's dark now, it's nighttime, and it will forever be.

It was also night the last time I saw her.

She looked so beautiful in her bride veil.

It hurts! It burns so much.

I see nothing but fire and flames now.

Why did she cry that night?

I would have brought her smile with me for the rest of my life.

- Drink, drink. - I don't like it.

- Never liked that stuff. - Come on, drink.

- What will they do to me? - Your arm is to shreds!

What if I can't use it anymore?

A boxer without an arm...

This is the last vial.

It won't be enough. And we have yet to amputate.

- Doctor! It hurts! - Stay calm!

It could have been worse.

Corporal,

I was sure I was going to win the championship.

So far all the matches have been fairly easy...

Go Mario. Knock him down Mario...

Hit him with the right...

Right straight punch... it used to be my best weapon...

- Any news? - No, Colonel. I wasn't able to establish a contact.

Change frequency.

Change!

Hello?

Yes, it's me. How many of them?

All right.

All right.

I understand.

The enemy has started a new offensive. Get back to your positions. Quick!

Colonel. My place is over there with them.

There's room enough for everyone. Let's go.

The Folgore tragedy is over.

The roar of the battle quenched in death's peaceful embrace,

making all hatred vain and useless.

May this orderly multitude of crosses in the sands, no longer deserted,

be an example of heroism, of sacrifice and dutifulness,

and a warning by those who lived to those who live, so that all of humanity,

under the name of Christ, may rediscover the gift of loving.

English subs by richdager - March 2013 Provided by hristo8484 @KG

Revised by edam17@KG

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