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Strange happenings occur on a WW II submarine.
Lt. Loomis: Grow some dicks and shut up!
Brice: [snaps] You're not skipper of this ship. Odell: [snaps back] And neither are you, sir.
Brice: I feeling better much now
[first lines] Brice: [hands coordinates to Loomis] Lt. Loomis: This is almost a day behind us, sir. Lt. Loomis: Well who are they? Americans, Brits, Italians? It doesn't even say. Brice: Well I think we can assume they're friendly, Mr. Loomis. Besides, it doesn't appear to be a suggestion, does it.
Brice: Try not to fraternize with the men. They can be a little... strange. Claire: Strange, as in superstitious? Brice: As in "strange."
Lt. Loomis: Maybe we're spending more time watching that broad than watching our backs.
Stumbo: Hoag, are you pushing him up or feeling him up? Hoag: I've got a dead kraut dick in my face and you're complainin'? Come on Stumbo!
Brice: Mister Loomis, where's our crew?
[last lines] Claire: You say whatever you have to say, Ensign. I'll always believe you were brought back here for a reason.
Brice: Now I realize why he didn't kill me too. He didn't have to.
Hoag: What if, when we took on that kraut ship, we didn't sink 'em? What if... they sunk us? Wallace: Oh, that's a good twist.
Hoag: Best lookin' bad luck I ever saw.
Lt. Loomis: It used to feel like a big ocean, didn't it?
Lt. Loomis: Sorry about what? Brice: Uh... she was... asking about Winters. Lt. Loomis: What'd you tell her? Brice: The story.
Hoag: Three redcoats... and guess what? One of 'ems a bleeder!
