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Чапаев

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trim. You always look so slovenly.
What is it? You're a soldier of the
regular Red Army, my orderly.
You're supposed to set an example,
and you walk about like a tramp.
Well, as I said, under tribunal!
Mit'ka's died. My brother is dead.
Vassily Ivanovich was a peasant too.
Then worked as a carpenter in Balakov.
And now he's a military commander,
and what a brilliant commander!
Frunze wanted to give him an army.
You and I, says he...
- Vassily Ivanovich turned him down.
- Who is it?
- Why? let him answer first.
- Never mind. I missed anyway.
It's good that you're not sleeping.
But you shouldn't fire aimlessly.
But as long as you fire,
be a good shot.
- Everything is quiet?
- Quiet, Comrade Commissar.
Hands up!
- A scout? - No. I've come to you.
Your boy caught me and let me go.
Now I've come on my own will.
So you're Pet'ka's White. Your gun.
- So The offensive is planned for
tomorrow? - Yes, sir.
- You say, The officer units?
Kappelev's? - Yes, sir.
They devised some attack at the
headquarters,
a psychic one...
Pet'ka, take him to the quartermaster.
Keep him in the kitchen for awhile.
Come on, big guy, they almost sent me
under tribunal on your account.
What does the commissar think?
They want to stop us
by the counter-offensive,
so they're forming a striking force.
And what does the commander think?
Don't worry, we'll meet them.
I'm going to the political department,
to have a talk with the communists.
A psychic one?
Well, what the heck, let it be
the psychic one.
Hey, black raven, hey, black raven,
Why you circling over me?
I shall never be your booty...
- So we're taking a battle?
- We are. Why aren't you sleeping?
So that you wouldn't say that everyone
was sleeping and you fought alone.
- Did you sleep, Vassily Ivanovich?
- I did. Go to sleep, I said!
- Was it the night before? - Are you
some inspector? A Sleep Commissar?
I shall never be your booty,
I'm not the prey of yours.
Yeah, we don't have enough ammunition.
Nor enough men.
You know, you're too awesome a man
for my understanding.
I'd say you're like Napoleon!
Even more, Pet'ka, even more.
Napoleon had it easier.
There were no machine-guns or air
planes then. It was no big deal.
The other day they've sent me an air
plane, too.
It eats so much fuel, you'd never get
enough.
- Vassily Ivanovich, can you command
an army? - I can.
- How about a front?
- I can, Pet'ka, I can.
- And the Republic's armed forces?
- If they teach me a bit, I can.
Can you cope it on a world scale?
No, I can't. I don't know foreign
languages.
Will you go to sleep,
you pain in the neck?
- They attack in 30 minutes. Everyone
at their places? - Captain's not here.
I'll shoot that bastard, Zhukov.
- Pet'ka, rush to the squadron!
- Yes!
Have we got enough cartridges?
If the battle is fierce,
we'll be out of them in half a hour.
Come on, cook, take it!
- Mutiny in the squadron! They killed
the commander. - What? Zhukov killed?
- Take along some men.
- No! I'll manage alone.
Quiet! Don't listen to the enemy. What
are we going to win by taking our own?
There're lots of masters around.
We must kill all the masters!
You can go, but don't make us go.
Enough, we've had our share of
fighting. Let others fight now.
Why should we leave our homes?
Right! We won't go. No! We've had
enough. Let's go home, men!
Line up! Attention!
The country's best sons are giving
their lives for the cause of Revolution.
And you...
Only spilling your blood will atone
for your guilt!
I will myself go at the head!
Who fired?
Who fired?
We've finished one here ourselves.
Mount horses!
- Tell me, What do men Go to their
death for? - What for?
It's simple: for their life.
Everybody wants a good life.
- That's Kappelev's officer regiment.
- Where's Chapay?
Hold on, Anka. I'm dying.
The cartridges...
- They're marching beautifully.
- Aristocrats.
Shoot, bastard, shoot!
They've sold us out, men.
We're done
Чапаев Чапаев

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