"It's now five months since war was declared"
"and we are still waiting for real action" "here in France."
"Hornet Squadron's one kill turned out to be" "more good fortune than shooting skills."
"Squadron Leader Rex is determined" "to keep the pilots fit and ready for action,"
"whenever that may be."
"His survival exercise, however," "was not the success he hoped for."
Pilot Officer Hart was criticised for showing bad form by living it up in neutral Switzerland.
"As winter ends, morale is good," "with plenty of local company"
"and the food excellent as ever."
"We lost Miller and three Spitfires" "in the first serious engagement"
"without any successes on our side."
"There is a great deal of argument in the mess" "about tactics,"
"and with the coming of spring, the Luftwaffe" "must be planning the big push soon."
Yellow Two, this is what we do - perfect formation flying.
REX: "You should be able to learn a great deal" "from your spot, Yellow Two."
"Don't worry about asking questions," "that's what I'm here for."
Thank you, Red Leader.
Red Leader to Yellow Two. We're changing formation, Yellow Two.
REX: "Flight echelon starboard, go."
REX: "Keep it tidy, chaps."
(Machine-gun fire)
Argh!
Bandits, ten o'clock below. Bandits, ten o'clock below. Prepare for No.2 attack.
Close up, Trevelyan.
REX: "Check your safety catches." "Are you hearing me, Trevelyan?"
Where the hell are you?
Anybody seen the new boy?
Forget it. Bandits ahead. Prepare for attack.
(Machine-gun fire)
Argh!
Oh, Jesus Christ! Oh, Christ!
Oh, Christ. Oh, Jesus Christ.
Red Leader, bandits behind. 20 of the bastards!
Bugger it. Too many for us. Red Leader, regroup. Let's go.
- Is that you, Moggy? - "Yes indeed, as I live and breathe."
MOGGY: "Are you OK?" "-" I've lost my fingers!
That's a bit careless, old boy. Have you ever seen Peter Pan?
- What do you mean? - Well, don't you remember Captain Hook?
I mean, he got by. They can do anything these days.
Thanks a lot, Moggy!
MOGGY: "How are you going to land?"
I don't know. My mother's going to be furious about this.
This is going to be a laugh. He isn't all that brilliant with "two" hands.
(Engine splutters)
Oh! Oh!
Christ!
- It's probably an early war for Cox. - Lucky sod.
- And young Trevelyan was shot down? - No, he's missing.
What do you mean, missing?
What do you mean? It's quite simple. He's missing.
By that I mean, he's no longer with us.
You know. Disappeared.
- "I may be a little stupid..." "- Are you asking us or telling us?"
I mean, do we have a vote?
It could be engine failure, or even Hart failure.
- Does it really matter? - I think so.
I have to file these reports. Should I say, ''Missing in action''?
As it happened, he missed the action.
Whatever it is, I'm going for my bath.
Come on, daft dog!
Am I supposed to assume that young Trevelyan vanished into thin air?
Is he going to be an aeronautical Marie Celeste?
I mean, is there a ghostly Spitfire flying in the heavens?
Somebody must have seen him.
Don't look at me.
I ain't done nothing, guv'nor.
I'll bet the guy who shot him down is sitting on his arse in Germany,
getting congratulations from "his" squadron leader.
So you "did" see him?
No. You're not supposed to look out for anything unexpected in this outfit.
"We fly a tidy, tight formation," "flying wing-tip to wing-tip."
It's supposed to terrify the Luftwaffe.
We're not in for a 20-minute lecture on Spain again, are we?
You wouldn't understand it, Moggy.
Do you agree, Fanny?
A Jerry jumped on Trevelyan. I think that's a reasonable assumption.
The tail-end Charlie looks at the formation. We can't look out for him.
Isn't there perhaps a lesson in that?
I don't know. Shoot the CO?
"I'm joking, of course."
Anybody for a drinky-poo?
What we really need here is some roulette.
Baccarat?
Pontoon?
Three card brag?
Nap, gin rummy?
Happy families?
I've got a good idea, Sticky.
Why not take some cards and have a thrilling game of patience 1 00 yards away from me?
Or pick your toenails, do your homework, or go and frolic with Reilly.
He could throw a ball for you.
What have I done now?
You're here. Isn't that enough?
I was just going to offer you a drink.
A large Drambuie with a Guinness, a bag of crisps and 20 Passing Clouds.
I'll have the same.
Have you heard what happened to Cox?
His left hand's dropped off. It happens when you masturbate in a hurry.
How are your ailments?
Doc says it's a question of time.
I thought it was the other shoulder.
Well, it's both actually.
Ever thought of going to Lourdes?
I don't think that's funny.
"It was a serious suggestion."
The way we're losing pilots, you may actually have to fly again.
Come on, Pip, you know old Moggy. It was just a joke.
- No, it wasn't. - I pranged my kite.
It could happen to anybody. I'm not going to take that off you.
Really, old boy, is it pistols at dawn?
If you like.
Sir, could I have a moment?
Always a pleasure.
I wonder if you'd sign this, sir.
''I am writing with great sadness to inform you of the death of your son, Nigel.
With the squadron, he did what was asked of him without flinching.
His courage, determination and audacity were never in any doubt.''
Who did? We're not talking about Trevelyan?
- Yes, that's reasonable, isn't it? - Courage, audacity?
We know nothing about his courage,
and as for his audacity, we only saw him for two minutes.
Blah, blah... ''No thought of his own safety...
his death in combat was an example of self-sacrifice in the face of heavy odds
and extreme peril...''
He bloody disappeared. Hardly self-sacrifice.
The Frogs have discovered the wreckage.
Trevelyan collected a bucketful of Messerschmitt bullets.
Bloody fool.
Rather good letter, though.
And those?
Just copies. I leave a space and write in the names of the next of kin.
Oh, yes. Good idea.
Anything else?
We'll have the new pilots in a couple of days.
Did you know Hart is saying our tactics are wrong?
Yes.
Well, nobody wants to be tail-end Charlie.
Oh, yes? Who says?
In the mess, just chatting. I'm not suggesting there's a mutiny.
They all want what...
..what you want, sir.
Improving our efficiency, keeping going.
Hang on, Uncle, that's Hart's attitude.
Maybe. But I think you're a bit hard on him, sir.
Am I? His whole attitude is negative and insolent.
He's an over-opinionated prig, that's my view.
I think you probably don't like him.
Well, there you are.
- I can't believe it. - Piece of cake.
Does that make me an ace?
What do you think?
I don't know. I mean, to be an ace you have to shoot down five.
Then you're not an ace...yet.
That was just a dummy run.
It was a bit quick, wasn't it?
Well...
Come on, you're the expert, aren't you?
What the hell do you mean?
I mean, you're a widow.
And you're older.
(Chuckles)
What I meant was, you were married before. That's what I meant, OK?
The question is, will you marry me?
Oh, Fitz...
Why not?
Well, because...
Anyway, you don't mean it.
Of course I mean it.
Look, sex isn't everything, is it?
Maybe it is, I don't know.
But I've got this far, haven't I? Things can only get better, can't they?
Please, Mary, just tell me.
Don't hog all the wine.
Sorry.
Anyway, Flash and Nicole are getting married.
And?
Why not us?
Is that the reason?
No!
I love you more than Flash loves Nicole.
Have you asked him?
No. I just know.
You see, we could have a double wedding.
I could ask Moggy.
And he could be the best man.
Come on, you like him, don't you?
Well, yes.
He was very decent to come and see you when I was away on leave.
Very decent.
Oh, Fitz!
Come on!
What's the matter with you?
You're so good!
I know I'm not exactly the best in the world.
Not in bed, anyway.
Don't say that. It's me, I'm not worthy of you.
You are the best thing that has ever happened to me.
(Church bells)
"Right, just hold it there."
Very serious for a second now.
"Jolly good!"
Now, we've got that one.
Let's have a family group.
Would you, Skull? Marriott, get in at the back.
Sir, would you be so good as to join us?
"Brides and bridegrooms in the middle," "family and friends on either side."
Don't be such a twerp, Sticky! Just get in at the back with the other pilots.
"Jolly good." "Now, everybody looking towards the camera."
"You can smile. Smile."
♪ Always
I'm off, then.
This makes it worthwhile, eh, Fitz? I mean, this is what we're fighting for.
What do you mean? Watching Rex dancing with my wife?
I mean Mary, the charming bride.
It's worthwhile for me.
For all of us.
Sorry?
I always think of Mary as a symbol.
You know, England, home, and the kiddywinks.
School fees, cricket...glorious Goodwood.
Henley, Clem Atlee, the Army and Navy stores.
I really envy you, Fitz.
I'll drink to that.
And a bloody good cook.
How do you know?
Horses for courses in France.
I mean, they all cook well, don't they?
This is Dutton, the new boy. Skelton, Intelligence Officer.
- How do you do? - Nice to meet you.
Excuse us.
Flip is going to be your Section Leader.
I hope you're a bit better than the man you're replacing. How's your drink?
He came in and out of here like the Invisible Man.
Rum cove. You can have his room.
Don't worry about him. Shocking type.
Seen much action?
Not really. I've been swanning about Paris for the last month.
Lucky beggar!
Probably poxed up to the eyeballs. Been hanging round with the tarts?
No, I haven't, but I've got a copy of Lady Chatterley's Lover.
Crikey!
You're going to be a popular chap, old boy.
♪ Hokey Cokey
Just an ordinary day in the life of Fighter Command.
We're the Champagne Squadron, as they say.
This is Flying Officer Patterson.
Flying Officer Cattermole.
And this is Flying Officer Hart, a well-known soldier of fortune.
Hi. Been pissed on yet?
I beg your pardon?
Our daredevil leader has a dog who urinates on people.
He's been trained to do it.
Reilly splashes anything lower than a Squadron Leader.
♪ You do the hokey cokey and you turn around
♪ That's what it's all about
♪ Oh, ho, the hokey cokey!
♪ Knees bend, arms stretch, ra ra ra!
♪ I was a bachelor, I lived on my own
♪ And I worked at the weaver's trade
"# And the only, only thing I ever did wrong"
"# Was to woo a fair young maid"
♪ I wooed her in the winter time
"# And in the summer too-oo..."
Get 'em off!
"# But the only, only thing that I ever did wrong"
"# Was to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew"
♪ One night she came to my bedside
"# When I was fast asleep"
"# She laid her hand upon my head"
♪ And she began to weep
"# She cried, she sighed," "she damned near died"
♪ She said, ''What shall I do-oo?''
"# So I hauled her into bed" "and covered up her head"
♪ Just to keep her from the foggy, foggy dew
♪ Now I'm a bachelor, I live with my son
♪ We work at the weaver's trade
"# And every single time that I look into his eyes"
"# He reminds me of that fair young maid"
♪ He reminds me in the wintertime
"# And of the summer too-oo"
♪ And the many, many times I held her in my arms
"# Just to keep her from the foggy..."
(Explosion)
(Screams)
Take them down to the basement!
Marriott. Are you hit?
Stretcher bearers!
Get that bloody woman out of here!
"Get everybody out!"
(Explosions, aircraft overhead)
(Machine-gun fire)
Dutton!
Get that bloody trolley on!
(Strafing)
Poor old...Dutton, is it? I didn't even talk to him.
If you don't look, you get jumped on.
Hardly his fault. He didn't even take off to be jumped on.
The rest of us got off.
- I bags his book. - "Ah."
That's one of the few privileges of being CO of this Squadron. That book is now mine.
I didn't realise we had a coterie of Leavisites.
What?
Let it pass, Moggy. Let it pass.
Anything else?
We were vastly outnumbered.
"The whole thing was a bit hairy."
Three Spitfires damaged. Bloody mess.
These chaps need a good rest.
Anything else?
We did an awful lot of regrouping.
Corporal, I need you.
-Take me to the sickbay. - Yes, sir.
Atten-shun!
Carry on.
- Painful, sir? - Of course it bloody is!
What's the score, Doctor?
Well, we've got er...
One, two, three, four... I don't know, about 20 small wounds.
Which means 20 bits of rubbish to be got out.
Well, then, we'd better get weaving.
"That's a nasty sight, Rex."
I was thinking of cadging lunch. The only decent officers' mess in miles.
Well, sir, we could have offered you a feast but I fear it's only...
..chilled vichyssoise, venison...
Oh, and the chef has mastered the art of treacle tart.
I need him on the couch, face down.
What happened?
Frankly...they caught us on the hop.
Damn wedding!
When we finally engaged, they regrouped.
They got one or two of our chaps.
"Including Marriott, the engineering officer."
And a new pilot.
Bought it rather prematurely.
I trust you'll send us some experienced men, sir.
We're losing aircraft at a rate of knots.
The attack on Maastricht lost us 35 shot down,
70 planes out of action in three days.
Some of these bits may not want to come out. You're going to need an anaesthetic.
Bugger I am!
Didn't you hear the Air Commodore? I may have to fly again today.
- You're in no condition to fly anywhere. - I'll be the judge of that.
It's going to be painful.
Winkle the bastards out.
(Grunts)
- "Are you all right?" "- Of course I'm all right."
Look, Rex, you've done one show today. Let somebody else lead the next one.
- It's my Squadron. - But you're very weak.
Yes, yes, you're the doctor. I know I'm weak.
Why don't you give me some of that magic elixir, eh?
"Look, you don't want the sickbay filled up" "with cripples, do you?"
I thought the whole point of ministering to the lame and wounded...
was to get them better so they could get back into their aircraft and fight the enemy.
Is that right?
Yes, but in my considered opinion...
Bugger your opinion! Just pull your...finger out.
Well?
Exhaustion, loss of blood, pain.
Will he be fit to fly?
He isn't fit to breathe.
Honestly, I don't know why they want all this stuff.
- Have you told your parents? - They know I'm married.
When she appears on Henley-on-Thames, it may be a different matter.
Father thinks French girls are all right but you're not supposed to marry them.
- Marry who? - Nothing, darling.
- You're taking that plant? -Yes, I am. Mary?
"Ready."
- Will they take care of the cottage? - Who?
The Germans.
- Darling, the Germans won't occupy this village. - Of course they will.
I feel like a deserter.
Well, you're not a soldier or Joan of Arc.
What am I supposed to be? Nicole of Henley-on-Thames?
You just get to Paris and the British Embassy will arrange everything.
- Flash, I love you. - Oh, steady on, old girl!
Old girl!
Now, just remember when you get to Paris, you're both married women.
Take care.
(Barking)
(Growls playfully)
Come here, you daft dog!
He's off his bloody rocker.
I'd rather have Reilly leading the Squadron.
If I have to bail out again, I'll shoot the bastard.
- Who are you talking about? -The mad major.
To you, that's the CO.
I wouldn't worry about it, it's just that Squadron Leader Rex gets us into impossible situations.
"And then we all bail out. It's such good fun!"
But he's got the DFC.
"That's the problem. He wants another one."
"Posthumously."
If Rex asks you to follow him, look the other way.
(Phone rings)
Great Western Railway.
Aye aye, sir.
It's for you.
"It's your grandfather."
Come on, chaps, we're on.
Let's get at 'em. Tight, tight. That's particularly true for you, Lloyd.
No dawdling. I want a tight formation. When I move, follow me like greased lightning.
- You'll get the idea, old chap. - "How's the wound?"
Absolutely first class. I'm a quick healer.
The Rexes are survivors - doers.
Happy hunting, Moggy.
Christ. Don't wait for us!
(Planes overhead)
"Red 3, tighter."
Tighter than a choirboy's bum.
♪ I followed on with the old cock linnet
♪ "I dillied and dallied, dallied and I dillied"
♪ Lost my way and don't know where to roam
♪ "You can't trust a special" "like your old-time poppa"
♪ "When you can't find your way home"
An early aperitif, Uncle?
"Did you see him?"
High as a kite!
Doped up with something or other. What's he trying to do?
His duty.
Or courting glory, dreaming of his destiny.
I have a rendezvous with death.
Perhaps I'll have a snifter as well. We seem to be losing the war.
Rendezvous with death?
He's got shrapnel in his bottom.
It's all incredibly romantic, leading a fighter squadron, don't you think?
Romantic? He's not a bloody ballet dancer, you know.
Nijinsky leapt out of his window. I suppose that was a hero's death.
He was bonkers.
Yes, like Rex. Do you think he's doing it for England?
What's wrong with that?
It's too abstract, old man.
The hero wants to prove himself.
What better proof than dying? Nothing to do with England.
- Chaps don't think like that. - "Is the bar open?"
No!
- I just thought... - Well, you were wrong, Pip.
One of the few perks of being Adjutant is that I have the key to the bar.
It is not open to you.
"- How's the shoulder?" "-" It's on the mend.
- Have you tried it? - "How do you mean?"
Getting your arse into a Spitfire.
It's bloody painful.
I mean, I'm going to try.
Well...
..maybe I'll get a cup of tea somewhere.
Why not?
(Rex hums The British Grenadiers)
(Rex continues humming)
"Bandits below!"
Heinkels at ten o'clock.
We're gonna smite the awful Fritz.
Blue Leader to Red Leader, there's too many of them.
You're a simple-minded Antipodean colonial.
♪ Bring me my bow of burning gold, bring me my arrows of desire
Let's go!
Fly ahead.
Jesus Christ, he's crazy.
(Machine-gun fire)
(Machine-gun fire continues)
(Screams)
I suppose there's no doubt about Rex?
None.
I could easily organise a search.
He blew up, for Christ's sake! Into smithereens.
Ah.
And Lloyd?
- A 1 09 got on his tail. That was that. - Never even used his guns.
Rex was bloody bonkers. Singing and laughing. You saw him.
Whatever the Doc gave him, I'd like some.
Did it contribute to his death?
- Yes. - No.
"- Which was it?" "- Does it matter?"
I have to write my report.
''Nasty little scrap. Rex was killed.'' That's your report. I mean, he won't come back.
As usual, Moggy, concise and perhaps a little cruel.
I suppose I'll have to get on the phone and report the sad news.
What's the problem?
We should have followed him.
You're the guy who said ''Fly ahead.''
Yes, you did. Don't get all shirty with us. He killed himself, he was a flying disaster.
Yeah?
Now, what do you want me to do?
Well, I... I just wanted to put you in the picture, sir.
- Four pilots disobeyed an order. Is that it? - No.
You're not supposed to do that. Are you going to question every order?
- No, sir. -That way leads to anarchy.
I know that, sir.
No question of cowardice?
No.
There were a few incidents in the Great War, when men shot their officers.
We didn't kill him, sir.
Well, he's dead.
No question about it.
The thing is, is he gonna come back here seeking vengeance?
No, sir. Definitely not.
Well, that makes you Acting CO, Barton.
I don't want an enquiry. Do you?
Of course not.
The CO bought it. It happens all the time.
We went to raid the Sedan bridgehead yesterday.
7 1 Battles and Blenheims. Do you know how many came back?
3 1 . 40 crews blown to pieces.
We lost the best part of our whole air-striking force in an hour and a bit.
There won't be an enquiry about that and I certainly don't want one about Rex either.
Forget him. That's my advice.
We'll give him a posthumous gong and he'll be forgotten in a month.
Didn't somebody say war was a nasty business?
Quite good for promotion though.
How many aircraft have you got?
Four, sir.
Jerry's giving us a hammering. The French, as usual, don't help.
Try and keep them together.
Will we get some replacements, sir?
No.
(Car drives off)
We should take the children.
We can't.
What will happen to them?
I don't know. But they'll be safe somewhere.
- Why can't... - "They can't go to England, Nicole."
- We're very lucky, you know. - And my parents?
They'd want you to go to England. You can't help them here.
You must start a new life and help Flash and the baby.
Of course, I know. I just love France, that's all.
Blast it!
(Soldier shouts out)
Baissez-vous! Baissez-vous!
Attention les enfants!
Nicole!
Are we gonna have a bonfire?
Why not?
I've got a feeling the Germans are gonna come through here like a dose of salts any minute.
You're a defeatist, Uncle. Do you know Rex paid the kitchen staff?
How else do we get our venison and partridge? You don't get that from RAF rations!
You're getting stew tonight.
I don't care. I don't usually say this but I fancy a good piss-up.
I'd like to get paralytic - drunk as a skunk.
Those are his next of kin.
- Haven't we got a standard letter? - I thought a personal letter might...
Oh, sod it! Everybody else gets the same letter so why not...?
Mrs Lloyd and Mrs Dutton.
"Mrs Trevelyan and old Miller's mum."
Yes, it's the Colonel's lady and Judy O'Grady
and Squadron Leader Rex's mum gets the same tidings of sorrow.
So do you want to get pissed?
- Will it help, do you think? - Of course it bloody helps.
We need a boost.
They need a boost.
They're looking for you to lead them out of this mess.
I've seen the symptoms of breakdown of morale before.
"Have you seen Pip Patterson?"
He isn't injured. Something wrong with his shoulder?
He's terrified of getting into an aeroplane.
Blue funk - that's what he's got. And it can spread.
They've lost a leader and they're waiting for a captain's innings to win the match.
Otherwise, you're gonna spoil the war for everybody.
Bonsoir, messieurs.
- A table for nine, please. - I'm sorry. Pas de place.
-That's the one, I think. - Elle est réservée pour General Delacroix.
- General Who? - Le General Delacroix.
This is General Delacroix. Don't you recognise his ribbons?
He's the only General in the Royal Air Force.
- C'est un grand honneur, mon General. - Enchanté.
This is Field Marshal Skull Skelton
and that's his batman, Private Stickwell, VD and scar.
He was a runner-up at Crufts last year.
- Mon General. - Merci.
I think we need four bottles of champagne
and as many bottles of your excellent red wine as you can carry.
♪ Night And Day
(Chatter)
- Bonsoir, mon General. - Bonsoir.
There is a petit problème.
Gentlemen!
Gentlemen, please be upstanding.
I propose a toast.
A l'armée de la France.
ALL: L'armée de la France.
I toast l'entente cordiale.
ALL: L'entente cordiale.
And the hero of France, General Delacroix.
ALL: General Delacroix!
(Applause) - Mon General.
(Men singing Frère Jacques as a round)
"# Sonnez les matines, sonnez les matines..."
♪ Frère Jacques, Frère Jacques...
♪ Up his bum, up his bum...
(Singing continues)
Have you seen this?
Hitler hasn't got the money to invade this country.
Well, well.
This is Rex's chequebook. He'd like this.
Picking up the bill for his last supper.
Yes, he would.
As Acting CO...would you do the honours?
♪ Poor little Angel Eyes
♪ Her eyes were brown and her tits hung down
♪ Clad solely in an old blue gown
♪ She dreamed we're told of a land of gold
♪ "Poor little Angel Eyes"
♪ Then one day her prince came a-riding and he stopped right by her side
♪ Very soon he was bestriding
♪ She had her legs open wi-i-i-i-i-de...
Oh, dear. Here he comes.
Monsieur, you are not Lord Rex.
He wasn't a lord.
But you're right. I'm...not Rex.
And this is also from an English bank.
Yes.
Well...let's you and I have a little talk.
"# Her eyes were brown" "and her tits hung down..."
Rex is dead.
Er...
Rex est mort. Contre le Bosch, compris?
Today.
What the hell's French for today?
Today is aujourd'hui.
That's right. Aujourd'hui.
Well, that's what happened to Rex aujourd'hui.
And it was also aujourd'hui that Lloyd and Dutton were killed too.
And before them, Trevelyan, and before him, Miller.
Quatre pilotes morts.
In fact, very mort.
- Get it? - I see.
Well, do you?
Because then there's the problem of tomorrow and you don't have to tell me tomorrow,
tomorrow is demain.
I don't really care about demain because
aujourd'hui was demain for Rex, Dutton and Lloyd only yesterday.
"If you see what I mean."
My little problem is about this.
It is a problem.
But I'll tell you what erm...Henri...
"- It is Henri, isn't it?" "-" Henri.
That's right. Henri. Well, I mean...
Let's be reasonable.
You give the cheque back to me and we'll forget all about it.
Or, Monsieur?
Or?
Or I'll knock your fucking head off.
That seem like a fair deal?
Whatever I give back to you, Monsieur, I shall remain in your debt.
Thanks, Henri.
After the war.
(Men's singing continues)
♪ What a pretty scene on the village green
♪ Where the prince was wed to Ann Doreen
♪ Now the fair princess, she's a bloody mess
♪ Poor little Angel Eyes
♪ Poor little Angel Ey-eees!
(Reilly howling)
(Barking and howling)
(Barking and howling continues)
(Opens drawer and rummages inside)
(Barks, then howls)
(Click)
(Gunshot, then Reilly whimpers)
(Silence)
Sorry, daft dog.
(Sighs)