This is almost a day behind us.
Well, who are they?
Americans? Brits? Italians?
It doesn't even say.
Well, I think we can assume they're friendly, Mr. Loomis.
Besides, it doesn't appear to be a suggestion, does it?
What the hell?
Might get a Silver Star out of this patrol yet.
Just have Coors plot it out.
Gunners mate standing by, sir.
Stow the weapons. They're British.
- You can tell that from here? - It's the sail.
The krauts use white on their lifeboats. The Brits use red.
Don't they teach you that in OCS, ensign?
Afraid not, but I can recite the submariners' motto in Latin.
Radar contact... starboard beam, seven miles out, sir.
God damn it!
What if they see us?
Well, they're pouring on the coal for somebody.
All ahead... emergency. Rudder to midship.
Crew to battle stations.
All ahead... emergency. Rudder to midship.
All crew to battle stations.
All right, do this at flank speed!
I want you to grab what's breathing on that boat
and you leave everything else behind!
Stand by to board survivors.
I got him! I got him!
Wounded coming down.
Next man, let's go.
Come on!
There's a warship approaching, guys.
Let's move! Move! Introductions later!
Ow! Ow! I'm going, okay?!
Next man. Next m...
What have we here?
Let's pull the plug.
Periscope depth.
Periscope depth, make your depth 65 feet.
Make depth 6-5 feet.
Bleed air in the boat.
All hatches indicate closed.
All vents indicate open.
Pressure in the boat.
It's a two-stacker...
about 3,000 tons.
It's not a friendly.
Possible Z-class.
If it is, rear recs, no side throwers,
four 5-inch guns, grapple hooks.
Fast screws, Mr. Brice.
30 knots or better.
2-5-0 feet.
Make it 2-5-0 feet.
2-5-0 feet. - Hard left rudder.
Hard left rudder.
Live to fight another day.
Smart move.
Three survivors... Brits... and get this...
one's a woman.
Three Brits... one's a skirt.
Three limeys... one's a female.
Hey.
Three Brits... one female.
Guys, listen up.
We've got three survivors... all Brits.
One's a woman, eh?
Hey, look lively. Woman onboard.
Hey, Hoag, spread the news... three tea bags,
and I hear one's, uh, bazooma.
We got ourselves a filly?
Ohh!
Sweet holy Jesus.
You're gonna wanna hear this.
Hey, boys... here's the news.
Front page...
we got three redcoats, and guess what.
One of them's a bleeder.
Aw, great. That's all this boat needs...
another piece of rotten luck.
Yeah, well, if it means you guys
finally wash the butt squirt outta your shorts,
I'm all for it.
So what exactly happened to your shi...
Um... your ship?
Hospital ship.
We were attacked two nights ago.
Two nights?
I'm... I'm sorry. My brain's a bit foggy.
Although I'm reasonably sure my name's Claire Page.
The rest of the details will emerge, I'm sure.
That's just a whale.
It's okay, really.
The sounds down here still get to me, too.
Make a hole. Comin' through. Make a hole.
Yow. Mind your pretty toes.
Best-lookin' bad luck I ever saw.
Doesn't look good, sir.
Why don't you get those clothes off of him
and see if you can get a better look at the wounds?
I can dress the wounds.
Other than that, I think it's best to leave him be.
Okay. All right.
Maybe I didn't make myself clear.
I saw it.
It crossed the moon's reflection just before the explosion.
Yes, it was dark, but I... I did see it.
It wasn't a mine.
I... It was a U-boat.
What class?
Type 7?
Was it an older boat or one of their newer ones?
Um...
Like this? Clean at the bow?
- You know... - No net cutter?
It was just a couple of seconds. I really couldn't say for...
So you were... you were on lookout that night, mister...
Kingsley... second mate, merchant navy.
Uh, no.
I was on the starboard deck grabbing a gasper.
Having a cigarette.
And how many aboard your ship?
About 300 patients.
At least that many.
Out of North Africa.
Yeah, plus over 70 hands crew.
So, um...
You said they fired only one torpedo?
O'Dell...
you better tell sonar we've got an enemy sub in the area.
Yes, sir. Just let me finish...
Now. Do it now.
Yes, sir.
I'm... I'm sorry that we couldn't save more. I...
Now this... the third member of your party, he's...
One of my patients.
Well, under normal circumstances,
I'd be able to drop you at the nearest port in England,
but, uh, it's a 300-mile detour for us.
So I'm sorry.
It seems as though we're stuck with each other.
Oh, uh, last thing.
Just try not to fraternize with the men.
Most of the men are fine,
but some of them get a little strange about having...
"Strange" as in "superstitious"?
As in "strange."
"Suddenly, his heart rolled over backwards in his chest,
"and he saw this huge, wretched thing before him.
"Instantly, its mouth widened
"into a terrible and hungry menace.
Now the malediction uttered a deep-throated sound."
- Malediction? - Look it up.
"And its breath stank gloriously
"of rotted carp and matted gorilla skins.
"Now... it slouched toward him...
"not fast, but slowly...
"slowly...
so very slowly."
Silly boy. Just the bulkhead shifting.
What'd you think it was?
The malediction?
Wahh!
What exactly bothers you, O'Dell?
Well, you have a ship
that's sinking slow enough to get a few lifeboats off,
but the submarine only fires one torpedo.
I mean, that's not textbook tactics.
You fire upon the target until the target is sunk.
So it was their last torpedo.
Yeah, but... why not use a deck gun?
O'Dell, isn't this your first patrol?
My second.
Yeah.
And your first was a little shakedown run
off the coast of Florida
in one of those old school boats, right?
I'm just wondering if the story didn't seem a little off.
I wouldn't worry about it, champ.
They got here somehow.
- You want coffee? - Sure.
I take it black.
Tell Broadway make sure it's hot.
Try to sleep.
I know you're in pain, but you must try.
Please.
Be quiet.
Sonar contact.
220 turns per minute, Mr. Brice.
Maybe the Z-class.
Maybe we didn't shake him after all.
- Full stop! - Full stop!
Boat stands at full stop.
Mr. Coors...
- flood negative. - Flood negative.
O'Dell, get on the thermograph. Find us some cold.
Conn, 5-degree gradient at 2-7-0 feet.
Cold water deflects sound waves just in case they decide to...
Aah!
Splashes!
- Splashes! - Splashes!
God damn it! Keep it steady!
Scared you, didn't it, kid?
Damage reports.
Well, maybe that Z-class just happened to be there.
And maybe the phonograph wasn't secured.
But God damn.
And maybe someone doesn't want us to make it home.
Miss Page claims she was in the control room the whole time.
Yeah, that's right.
- So what about the other guy? - Kingsley?
Hmph! If that's his name.
Where was he when it all happened?
I'm not sure. Maybe he stepped out.
Stepped out... or slipped out?
You know, maybe we're spending more time watching that broad
than watching our backs.
Who, me? I've talked to her twice.
I heard you were bird-dogging her, O'Dell.
Been running your mouth, ensign, about boat matters?
Gentlemen, gentlemen.
As for the record player going off,
well, yeah, that's strange.
But I don't think it calls for a lynching party.
I think we should all just take a deep breath.
Conn, Brice.
Where'd you find it?
Make a hole!
Lieutenant, I was all set to toss these pants,
then I noticed this, sir.
And these came from...
The half-dead guy, sir.
Must've been him done that record player.
Wake him up.
I... I'm sorry. I'm not quite sure...
Wake the German up.
Hello, mein Kapitan.
Jesus.
It was me. It was my idea.
I was the one who told him not to speak.
She had him under our noses the whole goddamn time.
Aah!
- Wait! - I'll tell you.
I'll tell you everything. His name is Ben Archerlift.
He's a downed aviator. He's a patient of mine.
He's a prisoner of war, and under the Geneva Convention,
he's entitled to humane treatment!
He has a wife and family.
He wants to get home just like you or me.
Everything will be all right.
You should've told me.
Maybe I was afraid you'd do exactly what you've just done!
You should've told me no matter what,
'cause your little secret nearly cost every man here his life.
You had no cause.
Mr. O'Dell, the woman is confined to quarters
for the duration of the patrol.
If she asks to use the toilet, you are to bring her a bucket.
Stumbo, clean up that fuckin' mess.
Fucking A-1, sir.
I'll be in my berth...
sleeping.
I just wanted to save one.
Just...
one of my patients.
Aaaahh!
Look, it's happened twice now.
I don't think that's an accident.
Somebody is up to something.
Well, just so you know, I've walked in the wardroom before
and found a steward listening to the record player
while he was cleaning up.
- Now, I wouldn't blame him... - Unless he's...
- Hey, Champ. - Hey.
How are those hydrogen levels?
It's almost 3%.
Chief says we need to vent before long.
All right. We'll ride surface tonight... 2100.
Is there something else?
Yeah.
I just can't believe it's one of our own hands doing this.
I've been on the boat seven weeks now,
and I know most of the guys.
I just don't believe it's one of them.
- Who are you suggesting? - I'm not suggesting anybody.
You know, it's been a rough patrol.
Some men do strange things under duress.
So just keep your eyes open.
Yes, sir.
Bright kid, O'Dell.
Get off.
Get off before it's too late.
Down here.
I... I was awake.
I wasn't dreaming. I know I was awake.
Don't let them get to you.
I heard a voice. I heard it.
It's nothing.
Just ignore them, all right? Claire, are you listening?
- I thought he spoke to me. - Claire...
It wasn't his voice, but he spoke to me.
Claire!
- Is this your idea of a joke? - Claire, don't.
Have you got nothing better to do at a time of war
than play games with dead bodies?!
You are on thin ice... real thin ice.
Wrap it back up...
for the last time.
We'll dump him when we surface.
A bit more respect for the dead might be in order, Mr. Brice...
from everybody onboard this ship.
This is a boat you're a guest on, not a ship.
Get off before it's too late!
Hoag, are you pushing him up or feeling him up?
I've got a dead kraut dick in my face, and you're complaining?
Come on, Stumbo!
You need to turn around.
Oh, nice try.
Hoag told you, right?
Turn around.
So many left behind.
I want...
God damn it!
What the hell are you doing, Stumbo?
Stumbo.
I'm telling you, there's some bad hoodoo on this boat.
That might've worked on the female, Stumbo, but not me.
Look, fuck the brillo pad. This ain't about her.
He talked to me.
- Oh, wow. - The dead guy?
- The dead kraut talked to me. - Yeah, right.
Wow.
Did he talk to you in English or German?
I guess it was English.
Case closed.
Prepare to surface. Prepare to surface.
Be ready on all four engines. Stand by to charge batteries.
Let's go. Come on.
Move it, move it.
Okay, okay.
The chief's gonna skin us alive.
I don't care what he said.
I've just got to get out of that room.
Well...
make it quick, all right?
Switching to night lights.
Coming up to periscope depth.
Lookouts, gun crews... stand by.
"1420 hours:
"Took periscope photos of German sub-pent at Lorient
"before moving on to areas north.
"O.M.I. should be happy with results.
Saw multiple shipping targets,
"but passed on all.
"Men getting itchy to come home...
With at least one kill."
Picked up three survivors
"from the Fort James British merchantman and hospital ship.
Reportedly victims of a German U-boat."
Some tall grass out there.
Yeah, it's good skies, though.
Oh, yeah.
Oh, we should be able to hit a couple of sites,
affix our position.
Well done.
The sextant in my cabin.
Very well.
Is it possible to see the...
Uh, talk to me later.
Mr. Coors, are we going to be surfacing soon,
take on some fresh air?
- We're trying to. - Any idea when that might be?
What are you doing here?
I... I wasn't comfortable in my cabin,
what with the blood on the walls.
You shouldn't be in the skipper's cabin
without permission.
Well, I'll gladly ask him.
Mr. Brice is the skipper, isn't he?
Lieutenant Brice is the current C.O. of the boat.
You need his permission to be anywhere
besides your assigned quarters.
Now...
Sorry.
Motormac Jenkins to the battery room.
Screws kicking over, starboard beam!
Emergency dive!
Emergency dive! Dive! Flood negative!
Give me a 25-degree angle on the bow plane!
25 on the bow plane, sir!
Used to feel like a big ocean, didn't it?
We are running out of places to hide.
Crow, give me one sounding for depth on their ping.
- Got that? - Yes, sir.
3...
2...
1.
Not much there, sir.
Bring in the soundheads. Let's use it all.
Aah!
What was that?
Don't ask me.
Ask him.
- What was that? - Miss Page, once again,
I must remind you, do not leave your station.
What did we hit just now?!
The bottom.
Well, how long can we afford to stay down here?
I thought you said we needed to surface to take on...
Attention all hands...
off-duty personnel are expected to be in the racks.
And the smoking lamp is out.
I guess we're gonna find out.
Seaweed.
Might be a fishing net.
It's caught up, slaps against the hull.
You hear... you hear a lot of strange things at depth.
I mean, I can't even identify 'em all.
So...
What am I gonna do with you?
I'm sorry.
I regret not telling you about Schillings...
because... well, I... I should have realized
that a submarine isn't a good place to keep secrets.
Is it?
We'd been stalking a German sub tender for a while.
We finally got our shot in,
cracked its back with one torpedo.
We went topside to survey the damage, and the ship was gone.
But there's a lot of debris in the water,
and Captain Winters decides to go down and haul some in.
It was the middle of the Atlantic.
He wants to do some souvenir hunting,
get something for his... I don't know... his mantle piece.
I try to talk him out of it, and... but he's al...
Anyway, he... the boat hit an underwater obstruction,
and he fell... he hit his head.
And he was... he went under before we could get to him.
I heard you were asking.
So he drowned.
We already radioed Connecticut with news of the accident.
You know, we really, really got off
on the wrong foot, and I...
So j-just feel free to move about the forward sections of...
Sorry, sir... humidity builds up,
drips out the power bus.
I'll get right on it.
So... would you reconsider England...
finding a port there?
I'm sorry.
Sorry for what?
Uh, she was... asking about Winters.
What did you tell her?
The story.
Well, it's coming up astern, but...
I don't know what that is.
Hooks! They're using their hooks!
Mr. Loomis, what do we do?
What are your orders, Mr. Brice?
Mr. Loomis, the helm is waiting!
The men are waiting for your orders, Mr. Brice!
Aah!
Get out! Get out!
Everybody, out! Move it out!
Go! Go! Go! Everybody, out!
- Come on! - Get out!
Get out! Get out!
Get down there, Harry! Move!
Get out.
O'Dell, make sure everybody's out!
- Everybody's out, sir! - Then close the goddamn hatch!
- Blow safety! - Blow safety!
What heading, sir?!
Any goddamn heading! Just get us out of here!
You'll do better at the board of inquiry.
We're sloughing oil, and it's bad.
I don't know exactly where it is,
but it's somewhere between the pressure hull and the sea hull.
And if it's leaking here or here,
then it's dumping oil under the main ballast,
which means that every time we surface or dive...
We leave an oil slick.
Well, that's how... that's how he's been riding us.
This boat is cursed.
Figure of speech.
So how do we fix it?
Well, there's only one way... from the outside in.
They'll be lining up for this job.
Okay, so let's make ready some dive gear.
All right.
O'Dell, pick two volunteers...
Yes, sir.
...besides yourself.
You want someone to free-dive outside with you
into the cold, black water, make our way below the boat,
locate the floodboards,
and slither in between the two hulls?
That's right. Find the leak and fix it.
- At night. - Hang on.
We're still submerged.
That means the main tanks are full of water.
This is in the dark, Dell.
Yeah, well, chief thinks that with the tower flooded,
it gives the boat enough weight to stay down
while we blow some air into the main tank.
Oh, well if that's what the chief thinks.
So... you're gonna go out there. You're gonna go outside.
Yes, that's right.
With all these... happenings happening.
Look alive.
All right.
Who are the lucky bastards?
Fuck, no.
Set.
I asked him to go. Buddy system.
- Ooh! - Oh, shit!
You and me, O'Dell. Forward.
You guys take aft.
Shit!
2330 hours.
To confirm sinking of German ship,
four officers go topside...
Commander Winters, myself, Lieutenant Loomis,
and Lieutenant J.G. Stephen Coors.
The night we lost Old Man Winters...
Odd time to bring that up.
It's an odd place.
So, how'd he bang his head before he went over?
You heard.
I heard that the boat hit something,
but I never felt it down below.
What?!
I didn't say anything.
I know, but what were you thinking?
Well...
I used to hear about these dock workers.
They would get welded up in these kind of places.
And then... they were never heard from again.
Wally?
You are so fucking out-of-bounds with that shit!
Let's keep moving.
Forward trim tank, it looks like.
Better drive some wedges.
Yeah.
So anything I say... stays here...
this side of the hull.
Yeah. Yeah.
There were survivors from the sinking.
Brice and Loomis even, uh...
even tried to fish a few out,
but... Winters had other ideas,
and, uh...
he ordered a gunnery party topside.
Well, three of us had a problem
with machine-gunning those men right in the water,
I mean, even if they were German.
There was an argument.
It got kind of heated.
Well, why didn't you tell us?!
I guess, uh...
I guess we were trying to protect him...
felt Winters was a pretty good C.O.,
even if he could be a tough son of a bitch sometimes.
For his reputation... you know, his family's sake.
Yeah, yeah, okay, but...
I still don't see how he hit his head.
Slippery metal.
Bad footing.
Accidents happen, right?
Where the hell did that come from?!
Near or aft?
Crew, sound off!
Get them out of there! Get them out!!
O'Dell!
Sound off, O'Dell!
- Oh! - Sir!
Fuck, was that you?
The light!
We gotta get him out.
Come on, guys.
How are we gonna...
Did you see that?
What happened, guys?! Come on! What happened out there?!
- Talk to me. - Don't touch me.
Did you fix it?
Which one of you boys was screaming out there?
- Are we a man down? - Don't touch me!
- Are we a man down?! - Shut up!
Who was screaming?!
Come on, grow some dicks and shut up!
Now, where is Mr. O...
Coors... where's Coors?
You tell me that's him.
That's gotta be Coors. He's still alive, right?
Sir...
that is the one person I can guarantee it's not.
Don't touch me. Don't touch me!
- Don't! Don't! - Hey, easy.
Easy, Stumbo. Easy, easy.
- Easy, easy. - Was that a "B"...
dash, dot, dot, dot?
I didn't hear a "B."
Dot, dash..."A"... thought I heard an "A."
No, that's not morse.
It's just some shit got caught up on the bow planes.
Now it's smacking up against...
"C"... you hear a "C"?
Dash, dot, dash, dot... definitely a "C."
It's hull sounds.
You guys are getting lathered up about hull sounds.
Now, would somebody please tell us what happened to Mr. Coors?
"Back"... B-A-C-K.
He's back.
And where'd you get the "K" from?
Dash, dot, dash... while you were talking.
Hey, champ, you can stay the hell out of this.
- And the rest of you... - Enough, already, enough!
In the wardroom, 5 minutes.
Keep your mouths shut till we debrief.
Did you finish the job?
Yes, sir, absolutely.
Right, Wally? Wally?
Oh, yeah, I'm finished.
All right, so, look, if the weather is good,
we surface tonight, we recharge the batteries.
We pour on the diesel, keep pushing for the barn.
Our barn?
Mr. Brice, southern English port's gonna be
more than two days away.
Two days away, Mr. Brice!
Kingsley here is a navigational officer. He knows the way.
I know all the ports, the depths,
where the submarine nets are, the mine fields.
Yeah, and have the R.A.F. bomb us
because they mistake us for a hostile boat... okay.
There are safety corridors that we can use...
Considered and rejected, thank you.
Mr. Brice, both our periscopes are down, our sonar is gone.
We are blind and nearly deaf.
Our men are in a bad way,
and now we've lost two of our senior officers.
Welcome to the war, O'Dell.
This has nothing to do with the war.
Just how much longer can we not say
what we're all thinking?
No one wants to be the first?
Fine. Allow me.
This submarine is haun...
When I want your opinion, Miss Page, I'll give it to you.
I am not one of your men that you can just dismiss, Mr. Brice!
I don't believe we're alone down here,
and I know some of you think the same way.
Unless we find a safe harbor soon,
we're all going to end up like your friend Mr. Coors.
The loss of Lieutenant Coors is unfortunate.
It fails to affect our plans.
Attention all hands... it's daylight now.
I expect to surface... at 1900,
recharge the batteries,
and proceed on base course back to Connecticut.
That is all.
You're 10 seconds away from finding out
what the penalty is for mutiny at sea,
'cause that's how long it's gonna take me
to open the armory and reload that sidearm.
Now, do either of you care to say anything else
that might further agitate this crew or me?
Mr. O'Dell?
Yeah, I didn't think so.
We just knock the nose around a little bit,
we're back on base, so make it 2-8-5.
Make it 2-8-5 true.
2-8-5 true, sir.
Heading home, boys. Sound good?
- Yes, sir. - Sounds good, sir.
Hey, you're oversteering. Mind your rudder.
She's getting some resistance, sir.
Chief of boat to control. Chief of boat to control room.
All right, belay that. Belay that.
I said belay that!
- Oh! - Oh!
Rudder at midship, sir.
Um, some... kind of hydraulic failure.
Oh, Christ.
Must have overshot our heading by...
170 degrees.
Oh, good. A gun. Yeah, I needed a gun.
I'll put that with the prizes.
Okay, I got feathers, crosses, and strip-show icons...
Rudder malfunction.
When we tried to shut down the props, no dice.
Wouldn't respond.
We're on a runaway boat, fellas.
Now, can any of you top that?
Well... I had a strange thought.
Take a number.
Yeah, but this one's real creep-show stuff.
What if, when we took on that kraut ship...
...we didn't sink 'em?
What if... they sank us?
Oh, that's a good twist.
I don't get it.
Might explain how that dead kraut talked to Stumbo.
I don't get it.
And the controls... that they froze up.
No, they... they rusted up.
That's because we're at the... the bottom of the ocean.
Flooded out.
Of course, I'm not sure what all that pounding was about.
Those are rescue divers... pounding on the hull.
Only it's too late.
Shit, I get it.
Hydrogen from the batteries...
CO2, ozone from the electrical shorts...
that's what we're breathing right now.
Like those deep-sea divers that don't get enough oxygen...
head starts playing tricks on 'em.
We got mechanical problems, that's all, okay?
We always got mechanical problems.
Now, please...
will you pinch this shit off?
- Unless... - Oh...
It happened during the depth charging.
Remember that one?
Rolled right down our deck.
So exactly how far from England are we?
Can I ask why you're asking?
No.
Right.
Uh, what's our heading?
0-9-5.
Right. Uh...
May I ask why you're asking?
Just in case the boat can't make it back home...
for whatever reason.
What do you suggest we do about it, chief?
Come on. Enough of the guessing games.
- Pressure blinding the shafts. - No, I don't think that's it.
Just lay it out for us, chief.
What about the I.M.O. pumps?
I.M.O. pumps check out. I don't think it's that either.
The rudder has a dedicated line from here to the stern.
If we tap into there somewhere aft,
I think we should regain our steering.
But where are you gonna tap in?
That's the thing.
The line goes right through the battery room.
That's a little dicey, isn't it, without venting first?
Just threading up new hydraulics, no welding.
Well, where are we at, anyway?
13 percent down.
- 13 percent hydrogen? - Keep your voice down.
Look, I don't know any other way to regain control...
Fuck if I know.
All right, but you gotta make sure you're sealed off,
'cause we don't want a repeat of the Hindenburg here.
Let's keep this quiet.
As if it's a bloody mechanical problem.
Fore door sealed.
After door sealed.
What's happened here, hmm?
What is this?
Go to the galley. Get a cup of coffee.
Oh, no, I'm fine, sir. Really.
You're falling asleep, champ.
- I'll watch your bubble. - Yes, sir.
Lieutenant, a word?
- Not now. - No, Mr. Loomis.
We need to speak right now.
That is a whale, right?
What else would it be?
Come on.
Let's get that rudder working.
Now, maybe this is just a coincidence.
I know Lieutenant Coors wasn't too sure
about the last star fix.
But it sure seems like we're going
right back to where we sunk that German ship.
Clear the compartment.
Everybody, give us 5 minutes.
Go!
All right. We're almost all set.
Just repressurizing the line,
see if we can't put the brakes on this little joyride.
I'll reset the bus.
Shit!
Hey, guys, we lost power up here.
Shut that goddamn door
before I shut it with your goddamn face!
What are you saying, O'Dell?
It's not a coincidence?
Somebody put us on this course?
I'm just asking a question.
Let me ask one.
Where were you when the rudder went over?
Huh?
This course heads back to England,
and I've noticed you've had a hard-on for anything English.
So where were you, O'Dell?
Back of the boat... messing with the rudder assembly?
Or did you get some motormac...
That is the craziest thing I have ever heard!
Not as crazy as what you're saying!
I'm tired of this hoodoo horseshit!
It is not what you think it is!
It is not even remotely fucking possible!
Okay?!
After room, get the chief to pick up.
Hoag!
Maneuvering room, respond.
Anybody, contact control.
Mr. Loomis, where's our crew?
It's warm.
Loomis...
I... I, um...
Go ahead.
I'm gonna change up my scrub.
Keep looking. Gotta be somebody.
All right. All right, chief.
- We found you. - Don't...
Can you feel anything...
your legs, your toes, anything at all?
- Don't... - Come on.
Try to stop me.
You're gonna pull through.
Especially...
You.
Time to go. Battery's still working.
What happened?
Sparks... the hydrogen.
Everybody... everybody's...
Loomis...
Loomis?
- Sir! Sir! - Get out of my way!
- Whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa, whoa. - Get the fuck off me!
Loomis!
Loom...
He's here.
Did he even have...
Air?
Not a bloody foot.
Come on, Stumbo. Keep trying.
We gotta release that air. Come on. One more.
Come on, Stumbo.
It's like it's welded.
All I know is what Coors told me.
And apparently...
Captain Winters wanted to shoot the German survivors.
Mr. Brice and Mr. Loomis
and Mr... Mr. Coors... wanted to help.
Apparently Captain Winters lost the argument.
Well, that's interesting.
But it's not what I heard... from Mr. Brice.
Lieutenant?
Are you sure he came back here?
Looking for me?
I, uh...
Just... reporting, sir, that the heating is down.
And, uh... the bow's levers are stuck.
Stumbo's working on it right now.
And that we show 90 pounds of compressed air
still left in the system, and I... wasn't sure
if you wanted to use that when we tried to surface
or use it now so we can breathe.
Shinola.
Sir?
Running out of shinola, too.
We also wanted to ask you about Captain Winters...
whether there was anything you could tell us
about what happened that night
that might help us to understand...
Don't pretend you don't know.
Just don't pretend anymore.
Well, wasn't that awkward?
Maybe Hoag was right. Maybe we already bought it.
If not the depth charge, then... the hydrogen.
If not the hydrogen, then...
Maybe the cold.
And if not that,
then we got a big evil spirit batting cleanup.
- Jesus Christ. - Come on, Stumbo.
There should only be so many ways a guy can die.
Listen to me. CO2 hangs low.
It starts from the floor up, and I need you right now...
- No, no. - To get up on your feet.
- Maybe I just need to... - Stumbo. Stumbo!
- Let me try. - We already bought it.
Come on, Stumbo. Head up.
- Over and over... - I need you to sit up.
- Over and over again. - Look at me.
Now look at me. Look at me.
Good.
Feel that?
Well, you're alive, then, aren't you?
You fuckin'...
- Stumbo... - Whoa, hey, hey, hey! Hey!
- Take it easy! Hey! - Relax, man!
Stumbo!
Isn't there a winch or a pulley
or maybe a come-along in a bowsman's locker?
- Yeah. - Can't we use that?
You know what he's talking about, Stumbo?
- Yeah. - Well, come on.
Come... we need it. Come on. Show... show me, Stumbo.
We've got to get it. Okay, come on. Come on.
So, tell me why three officers
would conspire to kill their captain
and cover it up.
That's what you're thinking, isn't it?
What if I am?
I can see I'm not the only one.
Loomis was up for a major citation.
And Brice was ready for his own command.
He was from a naval family. He went to Annapolis.
Coors had this beautiful girl waiting for him back in Boston
that he was always talking about, Claire.
These guys had everything to live for.
By that reasoning... they had everything to lose.
Are we missing somebody?
Wallace...
Wallace?
No!
- No! No! - Shh!
- No-o-o! - It's just us.
It's just... us.
Now, listen...
We're running out of plays in the playbook.
Do you have... any idea why the boat is going back
or how we can get control of it?
I've been checking the literature on this subject.
And the thing we know about maledictions is...
Maledictions?
Look it up.
Maledictions don't issue from Heaven or Hell
but from some unresolved place in between.
In fact, there's a great...
Wallace... we're running out of air.
Suffice to say...
the malediction needs satisfaction
in order to escape its netherworld.
And if you had to guess...
what would satisfy our malediction?
Old Man Winters never got a chance
to go down with the ship, did he?
Wallace, leave yours here.
We gotta dig up some more light.
Okay, listen, uh...
Just... Just promise me you'll stay on your feet, okay?
"Don't pretend..."
"Don't pretend you don't... know."
Sight target
believed to be German sub tender.
Winters orders flank speed to close target
and gain a firing angle.
Loomis checks target profile against I.D. log,
matching it to target, and I personally verify the match.
Single torpedo fired from number-4 tube.
Heard the strike, followed by collapsing bulkheads.
To confirm sinking of German ship,
four officers go topside...
Commander Winters, myself, Lieutenant Loomis,
and Lieutenant J.G. Stephen Coors.
"Many bodies in the water."
"Ship burning on the horizon."
What are you doing in here?
Go.
A German ship...
of the type Brice said you sunk.
My ship... the Fort James hospital ship.
So what you're saying is...
that the submarine Kingsley saw...
the one he thought was German...
Wasn't.
So it was an accident?
Not when he left us in the water to die.
Not when he heard the cries for help in English.
You actually believe
that Captain Winters would just leave...
Help! Help me!
No.
Captain Winters wanted to pick up the survivors.
That means...
Help!
Who mis-I.D.'d the ship?
Who had everything to lose?
Either the battery has finally crapped out, or...
Or maybe we're here.
Come on. Let's get some air going.
All right.
Come on, everybody, pull! Come on!
Come on! Pull!
Fuck me. This is it.
- Oh! - God, I hate being right.
Pull!
Kingsley.
Oh, Jesus, God, we're going down.
It's going up.
It's going up!
Okay. All right.
Wallace, see if you can work the radar, get a sweep of the area.
Stumbo, see if you can crack this hatch. Use a crowbar.
Drain the tower. See if we can get out that way.
If not, we gotta go out the forward...
Oh, God.
Hey, fellas... we have contact.
On SJ radar... 4,000 yards, starboard beam.
It's the same one? It's the same kraut ship?
- Are we being choosy? - All right.
Uh, Wallace, raise the antenna.
Issue a radio challenge on the Ariel-6.
Get the ship I.D.'d as of right now.
Well done, Mr. O'Dell.
But I'm feeling much better now.
You were saying?
We have a contact.
That may be an opportunity.
An opportunity?
To abandon ship.
Well, I don't know that that's a friendly out there.
Well, neither do I.
But it seems better to scuttle now and take our chances
with a surface vessel, even if it is German.
Scuttle and tell Connecticut what?
We sunk one of their finest fleet submarines
because we lost a few men carrying out our mission?
A few men, sir?
Contact at 2,500 yards.
Might cross the stern.
We'll wait... right here.
Wallace... no matter what Mr. Brice says,
I want you to go to the radio shack
and establish a voice contact with that ship immediately.
You are not the skipper of this ship, Mr. O'Dell!
And neither are you, sir!
Rain squall.
With a little luck, they won't see us in all this...
Weather.
Here!
Please!
We're over here!
Please!
Help, please!
Help!
On your starboard side!
It's really not safe up here, Miss Page.
We're going below now!
Aah!
Bury everybody and bury the truth...
is that it, Brice?!
Like this.
This is how I go.
If that's your plan...
get on with it, you fucking coward!
Stumbo, man the ports. Get ready to scuttle this boat!
Just leave!
They'll blame it on a U-boat!
Just get out of here! They'll never fuckin' know!
Any more advice for me, champ?
500 yards and closing!
Looks like we're definitely gonna lose some paint
on this one, sir!
I kept looking for some way just...
just to... take it back,
to make it end right...
some way without dishonoring Winters.
I was gonna wear this uniform back to port.
Now...
What should I do, Miss Page?
You give me the light so that I can signal for help.
I don't...
God, I don't know!
I just figured out why he didn't kill me, too.
He didn't have to.
Aah!
Hey! Over here!
Come back!
Come back.
Well, you weren't the first woman that ever slapped me,
and you won't be the last.
But that was a good thing you done for me back there.
Well done, Miss Page.
Well done, Mr. Stumbo.
Dead but not buried, I see.
Pardon me?
Your vessel.
So, what would you say if you had to explain it all?
Does seem rather unlikely now, doesn't it?
Have you thought that...
that maybe when Captain Winters died,
he just... died, and that was it?
And the rest...
I don't know.
You say whatever you have to say, ensign.
I'll always believe we were brought back here for a reason.