This film has been made possible by

the contribution of the Ministry of Culture,

which recognized this film

as a subject of Cultural Interest.

A film by ENZO MONTELEONE

EL ALAMEIN - The Line of Fire

Okay, get off.

Nice here.

Sure is.

What are you doing?

You never know, might find something.

If I'm lucky, this backwash

will be enough to get back.

How much longer?

Are you in a hurry?

We're almost there.

Egypt - October 1942

This is it.

You're here.

Report over there.

Okay, thanks.

Is that good water from El Daba?

- Yes, a two-liter canteen.

- Don't let them steal it.

Pvt. Serra, reporting. I just got here.

I've been posted here.

Lt. Fiore.

- Are you alone?

- What do you mean, sir?

I asked for substitutes,

I expected at least 10 men.

- Are you alone?

- Yes, sir.
Are you an urban vigilante?

I'm a University Volunteer.

I know what it stands for. It was a joke.

What do you study?

Literature and philosophy, third year.

Why didn't you finish?

I heard soldiers were needed

on the front, I'd be a coward not to go.

They said they'd send us to Africa,

so I signed up.

- Where are you from?

- Palermo.

What's being said in Italy?

We'll arrive in Alexandria

and drive the British out of Egypt.

How's the weather there?

Fall has begun,

but we're still swimming in Palermo.

- Is that good water?

- Yes.

Let me have a sip.

Come on.

Good.

Sorry, water's an issue here.

You'll join S. Sgt. Rizzo's Unit.

Corporal.

Take our student to Rizzo.

Serra, some advice:

Take off that patch. It's useless here.

Yes, sir.

Why did he tell me to remove it?

Some people have been in Africa

for two years now.
They've earned repatriation,
but can't get back home.

When they see someone

who could have stayed home...

but decided to volunteer...

they get ticked off.

What was that?

British 88's.

They always shoot four at a time...

but the ones that hit you sound different.

It's the first thing you need to know.

If you want to get out alive,

perk up your ears.

Give me some of your water.

Excuse me...

I haven't had real water in so long.

Get down, this'll hit us!

Corporal!

Who are you? What happened?

Pvt. Serra.
I have to join Sergeant Rizzo's Unit.

They shot at me and the Corporal,

but I can't find him anymore.

I'm Rizzo. De Vita and Spagna.

- Who was the Corporal?

- Part of the command company.

Boys, take a look around.

I found this.

He became sand. It happens.

We'll report it.

You used up your first miracle.

Just got here and already used up a miracle.

What miracle?
That's enough. Let's go.

- Is that good water?

- Yes.

Stay low.

Set yourself up there,

a guy from Padua used to be here...

he got hit by a grenade splinter.

It literally pierced his stomach.

- Is he dead?
- The war is over for him.

He's in a hospital in Bengasi.

They will send him home soon.

Come, I'll brief you.

To the right, the Qattara Depression.

Not much to worry about.

There's a minefield past the barbed wire,

then no man's land.

The British are over there,

you can't see them.

But they see us clearly

and send their 88's here.

Keep low during the day, we move at night.

Our artillery?

The remaining cannons are in the north.

We're in the south sector,

abandoned by God.

First rule: Keep your head low.

Second: If you get dysentery

don't report sick, we all have it.

Just cope with it.

Third: Vipers and scorpions.

Watch where you put your hands

and when you put on your shoes...

because scorpions look for warm places

at night.
A quarter liter of water a day.

If you're used to washing up,

learn how to do it with sand.

Rations arrive after dusk,

but often don't show up.

You'll have to make do

with canned goods and biscuits.

Cigarettes in abundance,
but matches are scarce.

- Got that?
- Yes.

Any questions?

- The mail?
- On and off.

Beloved Mom, Dear Father...

I've finally arrived on the front line.

My unit is posted
in the southernmost point of the front...

near the Qattara Depression.

I'm the youngest.

The others are veterans of Africa.

Everything is empty, immense.

I've yet to see real war.

It's not what I expected.

I imagined something else:

Clashes, battles, gunfights.

Our real enemies now

are thirst and dysentery.

We must be careful...

because we can die suddenly,

unexpectedly...

without ever seeing the enemy.

I hope I'll distinguish myself

and make you proud of me.

Spagna, where the fuck are you?

- Everything okay?
- Yes, Lieutenant.

If that had hit our pit, goodbye homeland.

- Lieutenant.
- How's it going?

Fine.

Well, they keep getting closer.

Lieutenant, two wounded

in the connection zone.

- Hit by 88's?
- No, by a sniper.

What?

Let's go.

What happened?

The two linemen were adjusting

the telephone cables...

and they were shot by a sniper.

- How did he get there?

- We don't know.

He must have arrived last night.

He wasn't there yesterday.

Stretcher bearers!

- Where is he?
- Perhaps behind those wrecks.

Lieutenant, sir.

- Do you feel like going?

- Yes.

Be careful.
He may disregard your armbands.

We'll go anyway.

Run! Hide!

He got him.

Did you see where he's shooting from?

I saw a spark from behind that truck.

Are you sure?

- Yes. I saw him clearly.
- We need the mortar.

- Who'll go call Tarozzi?

- Me.

Go to the command post,

get him, and bring him here.

He needs to bring his 81, hurry.

Stay low and always run for cover!

- Where's Tarozzi?
- Over there.

- Who's Tarozzi?
- Me.

Lt. Fiore needs you, hurry.

You called for me?

Set up the mortar.

- Ready.
- Come here.

- See that wreck?

- Yes.

There's a sniper in there, blow it to pieces.

Yes, sir.

Cover!

You son of a bitch!

Go to hell!

Don't shoot!

Damn you! To hell!

Don't waste ammunition!

Bastards!

Listen...

shall we blow up this son of a bitch?

Yes, sir.

- See what he did to our boys?

- Yes, sir.

Then concentrate
and send him straight to hell.

Got it?

I'll get him, I swear.

Cover!

Get the wounded man

and take him to the infirmary.

Fix the cables. Good job, Tarozzi.

Let's go.

You're a champ.

What a sight.

They remind me of my town's fireworks.

The rations arrived today.

Tasty sand and rice mush.

Know why rations arrive at night?

So we can't see all the flies in the food.

When do you think we'll attack?

When will we get to Alexandria, to Cairo?

Maybe you don't get it.

We've been here four months

and haven't advanced a meter.

Cairo, the pyramids,

we can forget about them.

You've become an expert

on military strategies?

It's common sense.

Our provisions are in Libya,

Bengasi and Derna.

That's 1,000 kilometers from here.

We're far from everything

that's why nothing arrives on the front line.

But the British bases are nearby.

They switch off every 15 days.

They take leave and go have fun.

Rommel isn't just any guy...

he whipped the British pretty badly.

If he made it this far,

why can't he advance some more?

If he stopped,
something must have happened.

Supplies and ammunition haven't arrived.

Gas hasn't arrived and neither has water.

I think the British will attack soon.

Even if they do, they won't get through here.

They won't kick us out.

We're like boulders:

Firm, solid, immovable...

neither forward...

nor backward.

- Sergeant, what do you think?

- That you talk too much.

Once you start thinking, you're dead.

Just do as you're told.

And if I have to die...

I'll die.

I'm sure of one thing: That I won't surrender.

They won't take me...

not alive.

What is it?

A British truck. It drove over a mine.

- Let's go.
- Where?

To do some shopping.

There are mines here.

Stay in line behind me.

I don't want to have to scrape you
off the ground.

- Sergeant.
- What?

I stepped on something.

Don't move.

Stay still.

You lucked out.

Move.

Slowly.

It's an anti-tank mine.

They're calibrated for 300 kilos.

If it was an anti-personnel mine,

you'd be gone.

Christ, be careful.

You used up your second miracle.

Damn.

What do we have here?

Look.

These British have it all.

Chocolate, whiskey, jam...

Everything, even canned fruit.

Sergeant, he's alive!

What'll we do?

The British will come get him,

they'll handle it.

Let's hurry up.

Come on, let's go.

Serra, move it.

Good stuff.

Want some?

British vitamins.
All this talk about miracles...

what is it?

Look at this.

It was on my head.

A bullet entered here and exited here.

I could have died.

But I didn't...

I felt...

a breeze through my hair.

What would you call that?

When you step on a mine

that doesn't explode...

grenade splinters hit the pit...

and the guy next to you dies...

these are miracles.

The Corporal turned to sand,

you didn't even get a scratch.

That was your first miracle.

Here, we are each allotted three miracles.

You've only got one left.

Afterwards all you can do is pray.

And you, how many do you have left?

We used them up long ago.

Don't worry...

if you're going to die,

it shows the day before.

How can you tell?

Your nose becomes thin and long...

and your ears, transparent like tissue paper.

You're pulling my leg, right?

Good morning, Lieutenant.

- What have you got there?
- Where are we?

- Naqb Rala, south sector, why?

- I knew I'd get lost. Damn!

These trails are all alike,

nothing but fucking sand.

- These aren't supply trucks?

- No, special transport.

I'm supposed to go to El Daba...

but I had to change route

because of a bombardment.

El Daba is on the northern coast,

at least 80 kilometers away.

- It's full of shoe polish.

- What?

For the parade, when we reach Alexandria.

What's in this truck?

A horse. Mussolini's, for the parade.

We could roast it with potatoes.

You can't touch it, I have to bring it back.

Then say the British took it as a prisoner.

Do something, you tell them.

You keep this. I'm confiscating the horse.

- Pull it out.
- You can't, it's Mussolini's horse.

If anything happens, they'll shoot me.

Bullshit. Tell them I took it,

they can come to me.

Open up.

It really is Mussolini's personal horse...

I swear.

You don't get it.

Tell Mussolini we've been eating sand

and drinking piss for months.

If he wants to march in Alexandria

with his horse and shiny boots...

he's got to send us arms, uniforms...

water, shoes, food, medicine,

and fresh troops to replace us.

He has to send the air force

to bomb the British.

Forget about shoe shines.

Got it?

Who's going to kill it?

Who's going to kill it?

Sorry, you're a beauty

but we're in bad shape.

Take it, get lost.

Beloved Mom, Dear Father,

today we're moving.

The Lieutenant is sending us

behind the front to get bins of water.

After weeks of being stuck in the pits...

riding in the desert tastes like freedom.

We seem to smell the sea.

It's 60 kilometers away...

but for us, it's more unreachable

than a mirage.

The names here

are straight out of The Arabian Nights:

Camel Plains, Dove Hills...

Gazelle Cliff.

But they are mere dots on the map

that only the Bedouins can recognize.

- Are we lost?
- No.

Know where we are?

More or less.

It's all the same here...

even the names...

Qaret el Khadim, Qattaret el Diyura...

Qaret el Yidma. All the same.

They said there were palm trees,

but I don't see any.

We should be near, try that way.

There they are.

No one's here.

- Are you from the Pavia Division?

- Yes, that's us.

I thought you got lost.

It's all yours.

Tastes like diesel!

Tanks we stole from the Germans.

We have to drink diesel-tainted water?

You should thank God I brought them.

How long since you've gotten

a water supply?

Seems you're not doing well.

We can't drink this water, we're not animals!

Enough, let's unload it.

All wasted water.

Know how many I've transported

through this desert?

Thousands of tanks, and what for?

To rinse the generals' underwear.

Then they complain

we don't move forward or backward.

Bullshit!

I've got a solution.

What?

If I transported grappa...
we'd be at the pyramids by now.

In WWI, we Italians along the Piave River...

were all drunk, otherwise,

like hell would we have won.

I feel generous today.

Drink, men are supposed to drink wine.

Use the water for the truck radiators.

Spagna, how long since you've had a bath?

Do I smell?

Sure, we all stink!

I asked because...

about 40 kilometers from here...

is the sea.

- How would you feel about a swim?

- Are you crazy?

- We'll dive in and leave.

- Then they'll court-martial us all.

Let's vote. Shall we go or not?

Let's go.

- Shall we go?
- Yes!

Sure, fuck it!

Why don't we stay here?

We'll hide away and wait here

for the end of the war.

Hey, what are you doing?

Who are you?

Pavia Division, we're on a mission.

That's a mined area. Get out of there!

Sergeant, is what they say true?

What do they say?

That the British took you as prisoner

and you managed to flee.
They caught me when Bengasi fell.

They brought us to a POW camp in Egypt.

Some were glad...

because they figured

the war was over for them.

Being a prisoner is horrible for a soldier.

It's humiliating...

it's a non-life.

A soldier's duty is to fight,

a prisoner's is to flee.

I didn't want to rot away in Kenya or India.

I managed to go back to Bengasi.

The British were still there.

For three months I hid out

at a friend's place...

in a brothel.

It was the best time of my life.

Then when we liberated Bengasi...

I went back to my troop.

- How long have you been in Africa?

- Two years.

- You never went back to Italy?

- No.

This is a cursed place.

You boil in the day, and freeze at night.

But what a sky.

I'd never seen a sky like this.

The desert plays with you...

makes you think strange things.

I'm sure of one thing.

When we go home...

if we save our hides...

we'll miss this wretched place.

The minefields, the sand, the pits...

Everything.

We'll miss hunger and thirst.

- It's cooked.
- A brush of oil and rosemary.

Lieutenant, want some?

Fire up two steaks!

- What is this stuff?

- Camel steaks.

- Where did they come from?

- Serra did it.

Wait.

What does that mean?

- Weren't you on lookout today?

- Yes, sir.

Tell me exactly where you found the camel.

Right in front of me.

- At the lookout point?

- Yes, near there.

Christ.

Show me.

- Here?
- There, see the blood?

- How was it killed?

- I shot it.

Isn't this supposed to be a mined area?

I believe so.

How did the camel get here

without blowing up?

I don't know.

The camel didn't come here by chance.

The British sent it into the minefield.

If it doesn't blow up, that means it's safe.

We have to check the area.

What's the situation?

It's all de-mined here.

There's a clear path

of at least five meters here.

- Can you close the gap?

- We'll try.

Any news from command?

We've been cut off, we know nothing.

They say the British are preparing an attack.

It's a matter of days.

They're waiting for the full moon.

This time, it'll be a major attack.

We keep finding de-mined areas

along the front.

- Which sector will they attack?

- They say to be on guard.

They saw heavy movement

of vehicles and troops.

Our command is moving

the Ariete tanks toward the north.

But that'll leave our rear uncovered.

If they attack with tanks,

how will we stop them?

That's what I heard.

Call us if you need us.

Thanks.

You called for me, sir?

Rizzo, sit down.

This arrived.

We're on general alert.

After that de-mined area...

they asked me to send a unit

to check the Depression.

The Depression?

They want to be sure the enemy

won't attack through the Depression.

That's impossible.

The Depression is impassable,

even for Bedouins.

It says here to send some men to verify.

You must find out what happened

to the Bersaglieri Unit...

which was posted on look-out.

They haven't reported back in days. Got it?

Good.

Get one of your men and leave right away.

All right.

- If we encounter the enemy?

- Leave immediately.

Units are only useful if they return.

Yes, Lieutenant.

Good luck.

Know why I chose you?

Because you're the youngest,

you're a volunteer...

and the last to arrive.

We're below sea level here, right?

According to the map we're at 70 below.

It's an oven,
it must be at least 50 degrees Celsius.

Don't think about it. The more you think

about it, the hotter it feels.

How far have we gone?

About 12 kilometers.

Sergeant, what is it?

It's a mirage.

They call it Morgan le Fay.

What shitty shoes. I got blisters all over.

What is it?

I wonder who drew these.

Once, this area was all green.

There was water, trees, animals...

When the ancient Romans were here?

Long before that...

at least 10,000 years ago.

10,000?

I can't even imagine a number like that.

Studying teaches you lots of things.

I finished elementary school,

I can read and write...

but that's it.

At age 10, I was in the hills with the cows.

Know what I miss most?

The green fields behind my house.

There's a plum tree.

I sit under it...

and look up.

- Know how to ski?

- No.

Back home,
the first snow has already fallen.

See anyone?

No, no one.

Nothing.

What if the British are there?

They'll shoot at us.

If the British made it here,
they can make it anywhere.

They're more Bedouin than the Bedouins.

What will we do now?

We'll go back.

- Is today the 23rd?

- What?

Is it October 23rd?

Yes.

Why?

It's my wife's birthday.

How old is she?

30.

I haven't seen her in two years.

I wonder if she'd recognize me.

That's the north.

Those are our posts.

These aren't the usual 88's. Let's go.

De Vita.

What are you doing?

Fixing the case.

It's all broken.

How are you?

Fine.

What happened to you?

Nothing, why?

- Your hair turned white.

- Really?

- Where's Spagna?
- Spagna...

Spagna, how are you?

It came down like hail.

What happened to De Vita?

A grenade landed three meters from him,

made a huge hole, but he's fine.

Not a scratch, just his hair.

How many boys did we lose?

At least 20, between dead and injured.

What we expected has happened,

the battle has begun.

The British attacked the entire front.

They bombed us, but they didn't attack

with tanks and infantry.

They tried to break through

the Folgore sector.

They suffered great losses there...

entire companies destroyed...

but they held their position.

They stopped the tanks

with incendiary bottles.

An attack is expected tonight,

with the full moon.

Our 28th is with Ruspoli's group

at point 105.

They want us to go there.

A gap has opened, they want us to patch it.

Are they sending us to croak, sir?

- Who are you?

- Pavia Division.

I'm Lt. Fiore.

Lt. Sforza of Folgore,

we were waiting for you.

How's your situation here?

Last night was a nightmare.

The British bashed us.

The 19th is gone, the 22nd

has few remaining defense posts...
and the 6th is surrounded.

We don't know how long they'll hold up.

We stopped them
by burning about 30 British tanks.

They told us to reinforce Ruspoli's group

at point 105.

Ruspoli's gone, he died this afternoon.

An 88 hit his truck, three officers died.

One from the Pavia Division.

What should we do?

Take post at point 115,

between the 24th and 20th.

One of my soldiers will bring you there.

Are there tanks?

They promised us the Ariete tanks

and the German Panzers...

but we can only count on our forces now.

You three with the Breda, in here.

Tarozzi, there with the mortar.

Three more in there.

Serra, De Vita, in here.

Find some sacks and rebuild the wall.

You two, in here.

Rizzo, there.

You two, in here, set up the pit.

Spagna, get three men and stay here.

Boys, come here. Three more with me.

Take these sandbags.

You two, in here.

De Vita, here.

You all, in here.

You three, over here.

Remove what you don't need from the pits.

Distribute the ammunition.

- De Vita, knock it off!

- I'm fixing it.

Fix it some other time.

Fine.

I brought some amphetamines.

So you'll stay awake.

Get down!

De Vita! Where the fuck are you going?

Come back here!

Finally, war, the real kind, has arrived.

I kept an eye on it,

like a bus on the corner of a street.

The British broke through the first line...

but they were stopped by the artillery.

They got stuck in the minefields

and had to turn back.

Maybe this was the third miracle.

Today I looked horror in the face.

At school they teach us:

"Lucky is he who dies a hero. "

I've seen many of these heroes.

Those who die are neither lucky

nor unlucky.

They are just dead.

They rot at the bottom of a pit...

without a shred of poetry.

Death is beautiful only in school books.

In real life it's pitiful, horrendous...

and it stinks.
This time, I'm going home.

Of course.

They'll even give you a medal.

If you're lucky, it'll happen to you, too.

See you back in Italy.

See you in Italy.

Write to me, Sergeant.

Got it? Write to me.

What do they say?

II Duce deems it necessary

to maintain the front at all costs.

Win or die.

The big battle moved up north.

It overthrew us like a flooded river.

Then, once the flood passed...

it all went back to normal.

It seems they've all forgotten about us.

Our enemies and our command.

The days pass, always the same.

We don't know what will happen to us.

We've become rocks, boulders...

immobile, hard.

Fear no longer exists,

because life no longer exists.

We know we can't win.

We're alone, in the middle of the desert.

Alone with our sins.

It's all one great light

with no dimensions, no size.

It's all a blinding light...

immense, infinite.
The British broke through up north,
the Ariete Division was destroyed.

And the Germans?

They lost almost all

of their Armored Divisions.

Rommel decided to retreat,

he wants to save the Afrika Korps.

What are our orders? What'll we do?

Disengage and establish

a new line of defense...

30 kilometers from here, at Qaret el Khadim.

- The Folgore Division, too?

- No.

We're at Gebel Kalakh.

They stationed us as rearguards.

Let's hope for the best. They say

"disengagement" but they mean "retreat. "

Maybe we'll get our hides home safely.

Are they sending trucks?

No, there are none.

We'll have to make do.

May God help us.

Look! The Germans!

Stop!

Italians, you'll die here!

Damn Germans!

Italians!

Stop. Stop, for God's sake!

Not even the Holy Spirit could fit in here!

- There's plenty of room!

- We're full!

Let us in!

Son of a bitch!

General. Lt. Fiore, 27th Pavia Infantry...

at your orders.

At ease.

Can we be of help?

No, I don't need anything.

We can dig.

He was my orderly for 15 years,

I want to bury him myself.

- You're not wounded?

- No.

We're retreating to Qaret el Khadim.

Want us to send a vehicle for you?

Thank you.

Take cover with your men,

don't worry about me.

Yes, sir.

Whom did I have the honor of speaking to?

It doesn't matter anymore.

Good luck.

Thanks, Your Excellency.

I want my shoe back!

Here it is!

It's all over, you can go home.

You're going home.

Good evening, Lieutenant.

Where are you going?

To Qaret el Khadim.

This is it.

Where's command?

There isn't one, it's a hospital.

They told us to come here.

The British are everywhere,

we've been ordered to retreat to Fuka.

How will we get to Fuka?

That truck is leaving soon.

Get on and leave the injured behind.

- What will you do?

- I'm staying here.

We're waiting for the British.

They'll take better care of them.

Good luck.

- Tarozzi!
- Hello, Serra.

Lieutenant.

How are you?

Here's how I am.

Stop!

Calm down, there's a shelter!

There it is. We're there.

Stop, you can't enter!

They're shooting, we've got injured men.

You can't go in! Understand?

You don't understand,

we won't stay out in this bullet storm.

- Look!
- What a mess!

Christ!

- Lieutenant?
- Yes, sir.

Where are you going?

Retreating to Fuka,
taking the injured to the hospital.

Good. Make sure they get better soon...

and go back to the front line

as soon as possible.

Aren't we retreating?
This is an active war, sometimes
we go forward, sometimes we go back.

It's a strategic retreat, temporary.

Reinforcements are arriving.

Colonel!

We don't have a vehicle.

Will you send one for the injured men?

Sure, will do.

An Italian soldier never loses hope.

If he's willing, he'll always find a way.

Shall we go?

Stop!

We've come from Qaret el Khadim.

They told us to go to Fuka.

The British are in Fuka.

The 10th Army Corps

should gather at Marsa Matruh.

But that's 100 kilometers away!

We don't have a vehicle,

we've got injured men.

Those are the orders.

I'll go look for the rest of the column.

We proceed haphazardly.

Commands and countermands.

No one knows what's happening,

what to do.

We wander through the desert

fending for ourselves.

We can only hope something will happen...

anything that will put an end...

to the humiliation of this endless end.

Lieutenant, how's the wound?

Fine.
Want to eat something?

We have some extra canned goods.

No, thanks.

Serra.

- It's the last one?

- Eat.

I don't sleep near corpses. It's not right.

It's not right.

This is a cemetery.

Will we make it back home?

We'll make it.

Italian soldiers,
command has abandoned you.

The war is over for you, surrender!

Put down your weapons.

Don't resist.

Lieutenant!

I'll help you.

Look! Maybe they're ours.

Start.

Start!

Lieutenant, there's water.

Seems to work.

There's gasoline!

Sergeant, help me pull it out!

It won't start.

- Start!
- It's pointless.

Start!

It started! I told you so!

- Maybe we'll make it.

- We won't make it.
I won't make it.

You go.

Find a vehicle and come back for me.

I'll wait here.

Sergeant, let's go!

I'll help you.

Get on that bike.

Get on that bike.

I'll stay here.

The Lieutenant can't stand up.

You go without me.

I won't leave you here. Let's try, Lieutenant!

Too much sand,

we won't even move two meters. Go.

Let's try anyway!

We've got to get out of here.

You have more chance alone,

to find the column, a trail.

We have to go!

Go.

Fine, but I'll come back.

I swear!

I know you will.

Lieutenant, hold on.

I'll get a vehicle and come back!

The battle of El Alamein was fought

from October 23 to November 4, 1942.

104,000 men of the Italian and German Army

faced 195,000 men of the 8th British Army.

The Italians and Germans suffered

9,000 dead and 15,000 wounded,

and 35,000 prisoners.

The British suffered 4,600 dead

and 8,500 wounded.
The 10th Italian Army Corps,

made up of the Brescia,

Folgore, and Pavia Divisions,

which was positioned

in the southern sector,

was completely destroyed during the retreat.

PAVILION 297

UNKNOWN