Subtitles by MemoryOnSmells http://UKsubtitles.ru.
'This is the BBC on November 3rd, 1960.
'Today, the last intake of men from all walks of life
'and from all over the country are being taken to army camps
'to start their National Service.
'In the House of Commons, MPs expressed concern at the effects
'the ending of conscription will have on our ability to protect Britain and her colonies
'from the escalating Russian threat.'
Thanks.
No, thank you.
Come on! Come on!
Come on, come on, let's have you!
Get out of the truck. Move! Come on, let's have you.
Come on! Come on, get out of the truck. Now!
Get in line, move! Come on - out!
Get in line!
Get in line before I drive that bloody truck over the lot of you!
You, put that down.
Get your hands out of your pockets
before I tear off your arms and feed them to my dogs!
What is your name?
Davies, sir. Do not call me "sir" - I am Sergeant!
You're a stupid Welsh man, aren't you, Davies?
Aren't you, Davies?
Yes, Sergeant!
How stupid?
Very stupid!
How stupid, Davies?
Very stupid, Sergeant!
I'm Sergeant Butcher.
You sorry mob are Two Section.
For the next eight weeks
I am your god, and your tormentor.
You will live to please me...
and I am a very, very, hard man to please!
Everything you have learned,
all that you had, no longer exists.
Because I am taking it away from you!
You will start here with nothing!
That is One Section,
they are two weeks ahead of you.
But because you are my section, you will be better than them.
Will you make me the happiest man in the world, Norah? Jimmy?
Say yes.
Yes!
Only promise me something?
I don't have to be there when you tell your parents?
Well, if they don't like it, they can go to hell
cos you're my family now and I'm yours.
Private Keenan, are you one of those pinko pacifist pansies?
Yes, Sergeant.
Wouldn't lift a finger if Wratten there was trying to violate your girlfriend?
No, Sergeant.
That's because you've got no backbone, Private Keenan.
It's because I've got no girlfriend, Sergeant.
That man, get back in line!
Private Davies, take charge of this section. What?
Move!
Hobbs, come here!
Come back, Hobbs, come here!
Hobbs, stop, you git!
I'm giving 3-1 on the beatnik.
I'll have some of that... Five bob.
Oi, back in line.
Jimmy!
Private Keenan - get back here!
Oh, no!
Come back here! I'll kill you!
Guard, stop that man!
Oh!
Well done, soldier.
On your feet, Keenan.
What you saw here today from Private Keenan was hooligan behaviour
not the actions of a soldier.
It will not happen again.
It will get you or the man next to you killed.
Do not forget that.
Ah, bloody hell.
No, I don't have anyone to take me
to the assembly hall dance next week and yes, I understand you miss
your wife and/or girlfriend terribly,
and a few drinks with me would ease the pain, but I'm afraid it's not going to happen.
Any more questions? Good.
Now, shall I tell Sergeant Butcher why you kept me talking far too long or do you open up?
A few weeks ago the Russians dropped a 27 tonne nuclear bomb.
It cracked windows 900 kilometres away.
The Americans will feel they have to go one better.
Is it so funny?
Actually, you reminded me of a joke about Yuri Gagarin.
He writes a note to his wife, "Dear Natasha, I'm going to outer space
"be home next Monday," and when he comes back,
well, it was after the ticker tape parade presumably,
he finds a note from his wife,
"Dear Yuri, I'm in the bread queue -
"no idea when I'll be home."
I'm glad someone can see the funny side of the impending Armageddon.
I saw a bomb once,
when I was twelve years old.
We were stationed in Cairo. Before all the business at Suez.
The locals wanted all the Brits to get out,
someone threw it over the wall of the compound.
If the headache persists,
tell the guard. I'll bring something.
What happened?
With the bomb?
It killed my mother and father.
Gentlemen.
This is your barrack room.
You will tell those children
that your wives have convinced you are yours,
that this is where you became a man. You will respect this place.
You will shine the backside of every surface,
polish the stove until it gleams.
Do you understand?
Yes, Sergeant!
One step forward, any of you serve in the cadet corps,
girl guides, boy scouts or any other such military organisation.
Private McIllvenny.
Um, Boy's Brigade, Sergeant.
Committed to discipline, obedience
and all intents towards true Christian manliness, Sergeant.
Private White-Bowne.
Officer training corps, Sergeant. Eton.
Awarded the house medal.
Twice.
Private Wratten.
East End Firms, Sergeant. Mile End Division,
serving under Generals Ronnie and Reggie Kray.
You think you're being clever, Private Wratten?
Awarded medals at lightweight, bantamweight and featherweight, Sergeant.
You think there's some sort of honour among these
knife-carrying, gutless thugs?
They're heroes in my street, Corporal.
They're thieves, Wratten. Just like you.
Watch out for this one, lads.
It says here the judge gave him a choice.
Time on D-wing or two years
in the company of honest, decent soldiers.
Two Section. You will unpack your bags, line up outside the mess hall
with your eating irons in 15 minutes.
Oi, Wratten? What are you playing at?
You need to pack in the backchat or you'll put us all in it, my friend. I'm no friend of yours.
It's every man for himself in this place.
And in that one statement Private Wratten misses the entire point of the army.
What do we think all that business with Keenan was about?
Why does the Sergeant have to do all that shouty, shouty all the time?
What's the point of that? I'm so glad I won't be staying for long
with you sad, sorry children, stuck in this place for two years.
How's that then?
Posh boy's daddy going to get him deferred, is he?
No. I think the old man will prefer if I caught a bullet
on the front line for Queen and Country and all that colonial guff.
So what then? You gonna get yourself shunted over to officer training?
No.
I've seen quite enough of that, but I will be waving you pack of no-hopers a fond farewell,
heading out of that gate in exactly three weeks' time.
Yeah, right.
Look, Norah, all I did was put some stitches in his forehead.
Nobody's telling me what's going on.
And I've got no idea where Jimmy is now.
Private Keenan didn't tell me anything.
Well, they'd let you in to see him, wouldn't they?
And you can ask him.
What? No, I can't...
Really, there are rules.
Connie!
Ever since I can remember, I've been the one that everybody stares at.
The darkie - from the first day of school
to the cinema queue last night.
And it wears you down.
I understand that but what has this got to do with the...
Today at ten o'clock, for the first time in my life,
I got a chance to belong somewhere.
Lance Corporal Hobbs asked me to marry him.
Oh, that's lovely.
Then ten minutes later he was AWOL and facing a charge.
For all I know I'll never see him again.
Norah.
I need to know what's going on.
I'm sorry, I really can't help.
Hm. I thought you were a friend.
Up...
I could have Nurse Charles look at it for you, Captain Gulliver,
but I don't think it's serious.
No, um, I was actually on my way to you on another matter.
I found these pills. I was looking for my collar studs,
I opened one of the... for the regimental dinner last night and I tried all the drawers,
including my wife's.
That's where you found them, in your wife's drawers.
Well, I can confirm what I think you already suspect, Captain Gulliver.
This is the famous new contraceptive pill.
You didn't discuss this with her?
It's just so confusing, I made clear to her my wish, my need for a son.
I mean, how could a wife do such a thing as this without...
without at the very least consulting her husband?
How are things in the marital bed?
Well, since she came back from her sister's after that last
falling out, things are a lot calmer...
less volatile.
So, to that end, I know it sounds somewhat regimental,
but we agreed to copulate on every second Friday.
But... how many of those Fridays was a betrayal - a lie?
What is a husband to do?
What he must "do" -
and do it at great length -
is talk to his wife.
What?
Come.
Sir, Private Keenan on a charge, sir.
All right, bring him in.
Prisoner and escort, quick march!
Left right, left right, left right
left right, left right, left right, left right. Halt! Left turn.
Sir.
Well?
I assume you know your name and rank.
Private Keenan, sir...
Colonel... Major?
Captain.
Are you one of these angry young men pacifists, Keenan?
Doesn't mind swinging his fists about? No, sir.
I looked at your record. You didn't try to get deferred.
I can't believe you didn't know your options.
Go before the conchie board, blow your little toe off, all that.
Must be my keen sense of duty, sir.
Don't push it, Keenan! You're in enough trouble already.
What were you going to do to Lance Corporal Hobbs?
Sgt Butcher seems to think you were going to tear his head off.
Isn't that what you want here, sir? Violent aggression?
Directed at the enemy, not the chap next to you in the ranks!
Lance Corporal Hobbs had, until today, an exemplary record.
Now, moments after you arrive, you've turned him into a fugitive.
What's this all about?
I'd rather not say, sir. It's a personal matter.
This is the army, Keenan.
We don't allow personal matters, they get in the way.
Find something useful for Private Keenan to do
until he changes his mind about this, Sergeant.
Anything else?
Still one man short in two-section, sir.
Chap called Lomax, making his way down from Glasgow on a motorbike.
Well, let's hope he has the makings of a soldier.
Get this "man" out of my office.
Prisoner and escort, left turn!
Quick march! Left-right, left-right,
left-right, left-right, left-right...
Put a call through for me through to my wife, would you, Henson?
'Yes, sir. Right away, sir.'
We have a system here, Keenan.
It turns gangs of scruffy lads like you
into disciplined teams.
It works.
You won't change it.
Don't try.
That sounds impressive, Sergeant.
Just makes me wonder why the Government's scrapping it.
Sergeant.
Come on now, lads. Right, lads. Hurry up, Sarge'll kill us.
Tell the CO what happened
or you'll spend every day of your time in this camp in here.
Eight weeks of basic training's not so long, Sergeant.
And then, when you leave us,
and your first posting is to some sticky mosquito-infested hole,
my recommendation will follow you
every day of your two years of service.
You'll see a lot of toilet bowls, Private Keenan.
Private White-Bowne tells me he is missing an item of property.
A Swiss gold watch.
This causes me great sadness.
But I will give whoever has transgressed
the chance to show he has some moral fibre.
The chance to earn the respect of the section.
Obviously, the culprit has no redeeming qualities.
Private White-Bowne, search every locker!
Private Hoy, look under every mattress, NOW!
Private McIllvenny, help Private Hoy.
Let's get this sorted out!
Anything to say for yourself, Private Wratten?
Gentlemen, you are suffering
because of Private Wratten. You need to thank him for that.
Thank you, Private Wratten.
Private Wratten does not understand
the value of discipline in this army.
Until he does, you ladies will pay for his delinquent behaviour.
You think I care about them? You think I want their respect?
What was that, Wratten? Did you hear that, boys?
Private Wratten wants you to do another five laps!
What? And he says Private White-Bowne
should do ten for being careless with his property.
Sergeant, shouldn't you be talking to this Private Keenan
instead of me? Finding out from him what's behind all this?
Private Keenan's refused to say.
So for the moment, we're both in the dark.
Why are you here, Sergeant?
Well, because...
Lance Corporal Hobbs is in serious trouble.
You know he's facing serious disciplinary measures?
You came to tell me that? Well, I knew that.
I just want him to know it's better if he gives himself up.
No, you want to check I'm not hiding him under bed.
Or in attic.
I'm not stupid, just cos I don't have stripes on my arm.
I wouldn't want you to waste your journey
so you'd better have a look around.
Go on! Only make it quick
cos I've got to be behind bar in White Horse in ten minutes.
Don't worry, if your boss asks me, I'll say you had a good look round.
Norah? Thank you.
You were really good. I mean, even I believed
when you were talking about all that stuff.
Never mind that, let's hear it.
You shouldn't have shouted at the sergeant like that.
In my own home I shout at who I like, including you.
Now what the hell's all this about? Nothing. Nothing?
I come home and find you've broken the back window to get in,
and then I have to lie through my teeth to your sergeant.
And you heard him. Serious disciplinary measures,
so don't tell me nothing!
I only met Keenan once.
It was on a train, we got to playing cards and he said that I had cheated
and took five quid off him. And did you?
Of course I didn't, but he got it into his head that I had,
things got a bit heated, bit physical,
he ended up coming off worse. I just got off the train.
And that's it? That's all? Well, if he's in the wrong
all you have to do is tell Sergeant Butcher all this.
No, no, I can't go back. I punched my CO, you get two years for that.
So what's the plan, Jimmy?
If you can't go back, and I'm asking as your bride to be,
what do we do now?
'Things I thought were true. One, there's no such thing as fate.
'Then the call-up papers arrive and almost the first thing I see
'when I get here is that man, and I think of you.
'And I want to kill him. I've been trying to get used to
'the loneliness, trying to forget how we used to be together,
'but fate or something like it doesn't want to let me.'
If I have to do one more lap of that parade ground, Wratten,
you'd better sleep with your eyes open.
I didn't take the watch.
Who cares, that's not the point!
Barrowman set me up, can you not see what he's doing?
What I can see is blisters on my feet
cos you think you're Al Capone, Wratten.
When we all jump if he tells us and shout, "Yes, Corporal,"
what, you think that's because we like it?
Here's what I think.
This is 1960.
The time for saying "Yes, sir" to a suit and uniform is over.
I think we need to teach that boy a lesson.
The next time he decides to open his...
What on earth is that smell?
Probably me.
While you were all learning the value of discipline
and team spirit, I was cleaning out the toilet block.
Well, if it isn't Roger Bannister.
What was the big chase all about, Keenan?
It's personal.
Oh, spill the beans, Ghandi! Where's your sense of team spirit?
We just had one rebel get us in trouble, we don't need another.
Going to teach me a lesson too?
A crack on the head after lights out maybe?
And who put you in charge, White-Bowne?
Anyone else thinks Wratten needs to be kept on a lead?
After what he's just put this section through?
I'm just the voice of the people.
Mr Lomax.
Captain. I've had a look at the boat
and I regret to inform you that,
well, I can't swim.
What? Shoot the driver.
If an officer gets in your way, shoot him too.
That's my plan.
Or to be absolutely honest, I didn't think we could do it.
Drop those shorts, McIllvenny.
You've got nothing they haven't seen before.
You heard what Butcher said.
Do you want to be stuck cleaning toilets for the next two years?
They've got no right to demand to know about my personal life.
Fine. Except somebody punched the CO.
They're not going to forget about that. Next!
Just tell 'em something. Anything.
Come on, Davies, show us all what you're made of.
Private Keenan, get over here.
Get those shorts down, Keenan.
Don't cover it up, lad! We're not in the boy scouts now.
Are you all right, old chap?
Get away from there!
Come on, who's next?
Private Wratten, sir.
I nearly slept with his mother once.
But the man behind me in the queue had the right change.
Don't rise to it. Unless you want to spend the night in the Infirmary.
Is there a problem there, two-section?
No, Corporal.
Wratten, pick up those knees, you little tea-leaf.
Ladies!
Fold this like that. Like we used to do,
under fire in Korea!
Tuck that in there! As the actress said to the Private!
That's all there is to it, ladies, do you understand?
Yes, Corporal!
Oi!
You need some help with that.
I can manage.
It weren't a question. You need some help with that, otherwise
come tomorrow's inspection, we're all having it in the neck.
Davies is right. It's the only way it'll work in this asylum.
He helps you with what he's good at
and you help him with something else.
The world waits.
Will Private Wratten shift the monolith of his stubbornness
the necessary half an inch?
By the left, quick march! Left-right, left-right, halt!
Left turn!
Sir.
Impersonating an officer, however badly,
is a grave of fence, Private Lomax.
Maybe my sense of humour is not to your taste,
but I'd go stark raving mad if I didn't crack some rather bad jokes.
I think it's David Niven, sir.
No, the killing is much better left to someone like you,
an officer and just possibly a gentleman!
Is he genuine, Sergeant?
Are you a fake, Lomax?
I think you are. I've no idea!
I'm not even sure who is responsible any longer.
You don't think we should show him to Captain Bulgakov?
See if he's trying to get a loony ticket out?
No, sir. I find it best usually not to indulge them.
All right.
Put him in with his section.
Private Lomax, left turn.
Quick march! Left-right, left-right,
left-right, left-right, left-right,
left-right, left-right...
Well, will you look at me?
I'm a soldier.
And I'm almost sad I'll be leaving you losers. Almost.
White-Bowne?
This escape plan of yours, the thing is, nobody believes you've got one.
Oh, really? Anyone want to put a bet on it? Let's say a fiver?
Wa-hey, listen to Rockefeller here.
Why don't we make it more interesting?
If you're still here after three weeks,
you clean everybody's boots for the rest of basic training.
OK.
But if I win and I'm stood here with my exemption papers,
then Private Keenan here will kneel and lick my boots clean.
Attention! When your sergeant enters your barrack rooms!
Private, quick march!
Left right, left right, left right, left right, left right. Halt!
Left turn!
Two paces forward, march!
About turn!
Two-section, this is Private Lomax.
He won't bite. At least I don't think he will.
Time to go home. The party's over, I'm afraid.
Somebody sat on the cake!
Just work around him.
Private Keenan, follow me.
You've got a couple of hours' duties before lights out.
Sergeant?
I'd like to talk to the CO.
Well?
What was it that filled one so meek and mild with such rage?
Sir. Lance Corporal Hobbs, he, erm...
tried to steal my girlfriend, sir.
It was about a year ago.
I didn't realise how angry I still felt until I saw Hobbs again, sir.
And that's it? That's the whole grubby truth?
Yes, sir. I just saw red, sir.
So we can close this sordid chapter?
Except I'm still missing a head cook.
Aren't I, Private Keenan?
Dismissed.
You, er, had a good day, darling?
I was thinking, now things are a little better between us... Colin!
If you suggest that we talk things over
or lay our cards on the table or clear the air or...
I'm going to have a drink so I can face the rest of the evening.
I suggest you do the same.
Go back to your barracks, Private Lomax.
We'll talk about this with Captain Bulgakov in the morning.
Let's all just see if we can be soldiers, shall we?
A-a-a-agh!
This girdle is too tight, are you sure it's really mine?
I've got better things to do than have these clowns waste my time!
Take 'em to the Kill Village.
Teach 'em a lesson they won't forget!
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