Character: captain Thomas "Tom" Dodge

Somebody find Buckman, stick him the cork in the ass and run it through a torpedo tube. And air at last hold! The stink eye eat!

["Stingrey" lies at the bottom; "Organza" over it.]
Sonar [in a whisper]: Sir, there is "Orlando". Someone just dropped 45 cents.
- Are you sure?
- Oh, Yes. A quarter and two dime.

[While all the crew members clean the sub Babinec sunbathing on the beach chair.]
Stepanak, what are you doing?
- As little as possible, sir. I'm the pest of the whole operation. Absolute destroyer of morale.
- You know of course that the submarine service is entirely voluntary. You just have to give up.
My dad will not give. [sarcastically] He's the Admiral. Thinks that the submarine service will do me good. Ha!
- Well, then I'm afraid you leave me no choice, son, but to displace you.
Really?
True. [Buckman passes by.] Bachman!
- Yes, sir? [Lentils turned sharply] [accidentally with a MOP knocking Babenco overboard in a bucket of motor oil.]
Thank You, Buckman. That's all.

So while you can practice on cats.

- Come on, guys. Only members not erase.
- Thank you, sir. I will try.

Okay guys time to kick this pig. It's time to separate the wheat from the chaff!
- The sheep from the sheep...
Sailors from the rookies.

- Polishing the old torpedo, sir?
- Shut Up, Panic.

Admiral Graham on the radio, sir.
Thank you.
- Connect, sir. Radio works like a Swiss... car.
- Dodge... "Stairway to heaven"... Led Zeppelin, 71 years old, right? Great! Congratulations, guys, we just won two tickets to the Billy Joel concert and promotional t-shirt! Nitro, and now you want to get me Admiral Graham.

- You can hear Sonar?
- Nothing special, sir. Lentils fly buttons in the latrine, Bebenek repairing a leak.
- I mean, in the ocean.
But...

- Have you ever drowned before the boat, Lieutenant? I mean, deliberately?
More you and even on the simulator...
And yet... the Simulator is not a boat. No one has ever heard about who died heroically the crew of the simulator.

Well, ladies and gentlemen. Will see what this pig!

- Captain...... this boat is a tin can, trash can. This crew is trash, bunch of twats yet the earth was not wearing! I know why You're here, but don't know why I'm here! I refuse this job!
- Excuse me, excuse me. And why am I here?
- Do you know. Your penis.
What thing?
- Well tattoo!

Course 170 South - West. The objective can see clearly!
- Fire!
- Come on, fool round, go to the right place.
- Good shot, sir.
- What the fuck? We'll dissect here, so You can Golf?

Sand: Sonar technician, second class, E. T. Lovatelli, sir! Love the nickname "Sonar".
Dodge: Welcome aboard, Sonar.
Sonar: Um, excuse me, sir. And it's really the submarine Navy? Not layout for some parade?
Dodge: I'm Afraid not, Sonar.
Sonar: Hmm... very strange. [climbs the ladder]
Dodge: [quietly, Pascal] Let me guess - deaf as Beethoven.
Sand: [whisper] Oh, no. Great ears, sir. Watch what you say around him, he hears everything. His previous commander considered him a security risk.
Sonar: [shouts from the top of the ladder] uh, pardon, sir! I don't hear everything. And I can trust.
Dodge: So.