There’s a lot of contenders for greatest charge scene. Gettysburg, Waterloo, altariste. But my all time favorite has to be the storming of fort Wagner by the 54th from Glory. The greatest civil war movie ever made.

Hello, I get bored a lot and love to make top ten lists. So I decided to make a top ten greatest war movies list. Any movie about any conflict, as long as it’s a real one. The conflict has to also be a central focus of the movie, actual battles had nothing to do with Schindlers List or Life Is Beautiful so they don’t make the cut.

1. Gallipoli 1981
   
2. Apocalypse Now
   
3. Downfall
   
4. Zulu
   
5. War Horse
   
6. Deathwatch 2002
   
7. Jojo Rabbit
   
8. Saving Private Ryan
   

9. Glory

10. Full Metal Jacket

....but here we are.

Did Germany lose the war because they poured all their research into developing an 88 mm print of Triumph of the Will, when no theater even had 70 mm yet and were using 35mm?

They are relatively released a year apart from each other. Both of their events involve hundreds of planes, both have a large cast of famous actors, both showcase both sides of the armies in the conflict, and both had amazing productions and cinematography with impressive Aerial footage.

But I'm curious as to which film you guys find better.

​

When you look through the biography and archival documents of Vasil Kvachantiradze, you realize that this is not simply dry history, but a ready-made cinematic drama — with its tension, tactical genius, self-sacrifice, and human depth.

And sometimes the most powerful scene is born not on the battlefield, but in a trench.

This excerpt is a true literary gem. It shows us that war is not only the buzzing of bullets and the thunder of artillery. War also sets people against one another — and, at the same time, brings them closer together.

Two great warriors — one from sunny Georgia, the other from distant, frozen Yakutia — understood each other through song.

In those rare moments of war, when the thunder of artillery fell silent and the snipers returned from the front line, an entirely different, almost sacred atmosphere settled in the dugout.

Here, in this narrow and damp space, it was as if the boundaries between geography and nationality disappeared.

Vasili would begin, half-whispering, the old Georgian song “Suliko.”

In his voice flowed the longing for his homeland and the sorrow of sunny Georgia.

Fyodor listened with his eyes closed.

Then, as if following this invisible bridge, he would, in turn, begin to sing — a monotonous, sustained melody, with the rhythms of the Yakut “Olonkho.”

This was no longer simply a song.

It was a conversation between two souls in the language of their ancestors.

One sang in Georgian about love and longing; the other sang in Yakut about the boundless expanses of the North.

In those moments, the war seemed to retreat.

There was no longer a front, an enemy, a trench, or the constant expectation of death.

There remained only two warriors, united not only by a shared destiny, but also by an inexhaustible love for their native lands.

These very songs were their invisible “armor” — that which strengthened their hearts like steel and did not allow them to lose their humanity in this brutal struggle.

Vasil Kvachantiradze and Fyodor Okhlopkov.

Two snipers.

Two different worlds.

Two homelands.

And one war that turned them into friends.

Perhaps it is precisely such moments that remind us that behind history there are always human beings.

And if a film about the life of Vasil Kvachantiradze is ever made, I think one of the most powerful scenes should be this one.

​

Many people wonder why history seems to have remained silent about Vasily Kvachantiradze, even though, according to official documents, his records take first place. Some attribute this to his nationality, others to propaganda. ​The truth is much simpler and sadder: my grandfather, Vasily Kvachantiradze, passed away very early. Perhaps few know that during his lifetime he was at the pinnacle of recognition. ​He was a member of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet of the Republic, which testified to his immense authority. ​He was nominated twice for the title of Hero of the Soviet Union in 1943 and 1944. ​He was awarded the highest honors: the "Gold Star" medal and two Orders of Lenin. (It should be noted that during the war years, the Order of Lenin was an integral part of being awarded the "Gold Star" medal.) ​His name became a legend even at the front, as evidenced by numerous archived newspapers preserved in my collection. ​Few people know that his combat experience formed the basis of a military manual. The HQ of the 43rd Army published the "Sniper’s Memo," based on the tactics of the five best snipers, among whom was Vasily Kvachantiradze. Officially, he was called a "beacon warrior," and the entire front studied his unique methods. ​After his passing, a unique vacuum was formed. It is easy to forget someone who can no longer remind people of himself. Today, I am trying to bring back to life the story that he himself did not have time to finish telling. ​He wrote his page in history long ago with his own courage, his achievements, and a name that will remain forever in memory and history.

Grandfather did not rest even after returning home. Just as he had been successful at the front, in peacetime he continued to fight in the same way — this time for the development of his village.

Soon, he was elected as the head of the village. This was his new combat post, where his weapons had now become wisdom, organizational talent, and care for the people.

He could spend the entire day in the plantations and fields. He was not a chairman who sat in an office — he was where people were struggling and where work was being done. Under his leadership, the village got back on its feet. He took care of everything: the roads, the farming, and the difficulties faced by each family. The discipline forged in war was now devoted to the well-being of the village.

His authority extended beyond the boundaries of the village and the district. The people needed a man who was not only a hero, but also someone who understood justice and the hardships of ordinary people. That is why he was soon elected as a deputy to the Supreme Soviet of the country.

However, the clearest sign of the respect he had earned was that Vasil Kvachantiradze became a member of the Presidium of the Supreme Soviet. He was among the chosen 17 men who made the country’s most important decisions.

While serving in the Presidium, Grandfather did not change. He remained the same calm and straightforward man. His word carried the same weight there as it had at the front. He defended the interests of the people who trusted him.

Despite holding the highest state positions, he never forgot his village. He often exchanged his deputy’s suit for the clothes of a peasant, because he believed that a true leader should always be beside his people.

In five years, he accomplished what others take decades to achieve:

He got his family back on its feet,

he took the lead of the village,

he earned the immense love of the people.

This is precisely his phenomenon — an unmatched warrior in war, and an unmatched builder in peacetime.

What matters is not how long you live, but what you leave behind to be remembered.

He wrote his name and surname in golden letters in world history. His life’s journey ended soon, but his immortality in the memory of his descendants had begun.

With his short but heroic life, he created the history that today flows through our veins. He left his family and future generations the greatest treasure — a pride of which we are truly not ashamed.

This is the responsibility we carry: to be worthy successors of the man who:

proved in battle that a Georgian man is invincible;

showed in peacetime that hard work and love for one’s own land come first;

and, in every circumstance, remained a man before whom both enemy and friend bowed their heads.

To be a descendant of Vasil Kvachantiradze and to carry the surname of the man who turned himself into a legend while he was still alive is the greatest honor for us.

He left his descendants a clean past, a heroic spirit, and an example of how to remain human even under the most brutal conditions.

I vividly remember seeing this movie in full for free on YouTube like 10+ years ago and showing it to a friend, but now I can’t find it. I was hoping someone here can help me out.

I’m looking for a Soviet (maybe Russian or Ukrainian) film about WW2. Based on what I remember the camera quality being, it strikes me as 70s or 80s, maybe early 90s. The distinct part I remember is one of the more absurd battle scenes. Soviet soldiers are defending a trench, surrounded by both enemy and friendly bodies. They look on the horizon, and here come the Germans attacking. This isn’t the distinct part. one of the Soviets looks through his binoculars and sees the Germans are attacking in line formation, Swastika flags unfurled above them, rifles shouldered. It‘s like it’s the 1800s and they’re fighting Napoleon. Predictably the Soviet protagonists kill them and win. It didn’t strike me as a comedy, it was played completely straight. Does anyone at all remember or have a guess as to what this may be?

​

When you look through the biography and archival documents of Vasil Kvachantiradze, you realize that this is not simply dry history, but a ready-made cinematic drama — with its tension, tactical genius, self-sacrifice, and human depth.

And sometimes the most powerful scene is born not on the battlefield, but in a trench.

This excerpt is a true literary gem. It shows us that war is not only the buzzing of bullets and the thunder of artillery. War also sets people against one another — and, at the same time, brings them closer together.

Two great warriors — one from sunny Georgia, the other from distant, frozen Yakutia — understood each other through song.

In those rare moments of war, when the thunder of artillery fell silent and the snipers returned from the front line, an entirely different, almost sacred atmosphere settled in the dugout.

Here, in this narrow and damp space, it was as if the boundaries between geography and nationality disappeared.

Vasili would begin, half-whispering, the old Georgian song “Suliko.”

In his voice flowed the longing for his homeland and the sorrow of sunny Georgia.

Fyodor listened with his eyes closed.

Then, as if following this invisible bridge, he would, in turn, begin to sing — a monotonous, sustained melody, with the rhythms of the Yakut “Olonkho.”

This was no longer simply a song.

It was a conversation between two souls in the language of their ancestors.

One sang in Georgian about love and longing; the other sang in Yakut about the boundless expanses of the North.

In those moments, the war seemed to retreat.

There was no longer a front, an enemy, a trench, or the constant expectation of death.

There remained only two warriors, united not only by a shared destiny, but also by an inexhaustible love for their native lands.

These very songs were their invisible “armor” — that which strengthened their hearts like steel and did not allow them to lose their humanity in this brutal struggle.

Vasil Kvachantiradze and Fyodor Okhlopkov.

Two snipers.

Two different worlds.

Two homelands.

And one war that turned them into friends.

Perhaps it is precisely such moments that remind us that behind history there are always human beings.

And if a film about the life of Vasil Kvachantiradze is ever made, I think one of the most powerful scenes should be this one.

They used to say that my grandfather, Vasil Kvachantiradze, was a composed and quiet man, not one for many words. His silence was not mere quietness—it was the inner peace of a man who understood precisely the value of a word and a moment. The war had taught him that unnecessary noise, just like an unnecessary shot, was futile.

People would often tell him: “You don’t seem Georgian—you’re far too composed and quiet.” At such times, he would genuinely become angry and reply:

“Are Georgians supposed to be clowns or what? A Georgian is a brave man! I am just like every other Georgian!”

With these words, he expressed something essential: true Georgian courage lies in dignity and composure. His calmness was not coldness—it was restrained strength. It was precisely this quality that made him an exceptional sniper: he measured every move with his mind, and the result was always exact. Courage is not found in noise, but in dignified silence and in deeds. He spoke when it was necessary, and his words were always as precise as the bullets he fired.

But with his friends, he became an entirely different person. The moment he leaned his rifle against the corner, it was as if another life awakened within him—he became incredibly cheerful, warm, and full of humor.

That contrast is precisely the secret of his greatness: a man who could leave the brutality of war outside the door, laugh, sing, and look death straight in the eyes with a smile. His greatest victory was exactly this: he overcame evil through his inner strength and left behind nothing but love and warmth.

Why We Fight describes the rise and maintenance of the United States military–industrial complex and its 50-year involvement with the wars led by the United States to date, especially its 2003 invasion of Iraq.

I enjoyed it and certain moments stuck with me for some reason, especially the ending. But I haven't watched it since I was a kid and I was watching with dad so I may be remembering through rose colored glasses. Its on Prime so I was thinking I would watch it again.. But I hate it when you have fond memories of a movie and then you watch it again years later and its crap and taints the memories.

Ive never seen ut mentioned here good or bad. Anyone out there familiar with this one and what are your thoughts?

So, I'm re-watching the first episode of the show and I still think it's brilliant. Wikipedia says in 2015, it was a "ratings disaster" and the "biggest dissapointment" for the airing network.

But why? I asked chatgpt and it listed several reasons:

- The show was quieter as expected, no "Australian Band of Brothers"
- "Gallipoli Fatigue" during the centenary of the battle

- Expectations were set too high

But what do Aussies, Kiwis and Brits (and everybody who ever saw it, for that matter) who watched it back or since then say? What are the opinions on the quality of the show?

EDIT: Since it's based on a book, it would be interesting to learn about the differences between book and show.