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We have to move. Come on!

Bombs blasted. Soldiers were shot.

Yes. I expect those things would happen in a war.

Well, if you know,

then no reason for me

to keep answering your questions.

Did you answer one? I must've missed it.

What do you expect to get from this?

"Get from this"?

If you think that's a difficult question,

you might want to reconsider your future in journalism.

I'm curious.

That never bodes well.

Well, maybe for you.

You're making a big deal out of nothing.

They're just pictures.

I don't believe that.

There must be stories behind them.

Why does it matter?

They should be heard.

Don't you want the world to know about you?

Well, isn't that why you went there?

You think I went to war so people would know my name?

- I didn't say that. - I think you did.

I'm not trying to interrogate you.

All interviews are interrogations.

The good ones, anyway.

Were all of these published?

- Some were. - But not all?

What do I get?

What do you mean?

I tell you about these pictures.

I give you all of my stories.

What do I get in return?

Does it have to be so transactional?

Well, that's what life is.

I'll tell you a story about me

if you'll tell me a story about you.

Fine.

I'd been the model,

I'd been the muse, I'd been the ingenue.

But I was done with all of that.

I was good at drinking,

having sex, and taking pictures.

And I did all three as much as I could.

Life was fun.

Take the lobster, put it to your right ear,

as if you were on the telephone with your lover.

Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

That's great.

How many arguments do you think they've had

since we left?

You think they actually got out of bed?

Hello?

No. He's not a "lunatic".

He's calculated. Evil. And he won't last.

- But the Germans seem to love him. - Well, the French do not.

- Vive la France, mon amour. - Lunch is served.

Bravo. Come sit.

Merci.

Please, no more politics.

So, I was thinking,

we should swim before cocktails this evening.

Wonderful. I agree.

But seriously,

France will not stand for his ideas,

we will move against him.

And when that fails, England will be ready

to ride to your rescue once more.

-Ah. - Darling, you're here!

We were going to send out a search party.

The English love to brag about saving the day.

It helps that you usually wait

until the last second.

- Roland. - Hi.

Roland. Welcome.

Was it a hideously long journey?

From Cassis?

From London, of course.

-I got stuck behind a farmer. - You know Roland, don't you?

If I did, would I like him?

He's quite charming.

Mm. So I won't get bored

if we continue with this introduction?

I doubt it.

His art gallery is selling your tits and ass.

How much?

Oh. I get to speak for myself?

But clearly not priced high enough.

Sold far too quickly.

I'd like to have held onto them longer.

Suits me. I never did like to hang around.

Haven't you heard? That's what all ex-models do.

They travel the world

and pretend to be someone interesting.

What about you? Why don't I know you?

Well, I'm not particularly important.

I just peddle their wares.

Well, if you're not that important,

maybe you should cut your commission?

I work night and day for you, my dear man.

Oh.

You don't look like someone who works night and day.

And there's paint on your hands,

so I assume you're also an artist.

I see you don't wash it off,

is that because you want people to know?

Or do you leave it there because you need to convince yourself that you are?

And you pour your own wine

before asking the host if you could.

I'll bet the members of any major family in England

know your name before you walk through the door.

You're part of the establishment,

and you hate that.

Am I right?

My lot are Quakers. Not exactly establishment.

But otherwise...

She can see us all.

Can I have a go?

Please.

Good luck with that!

Hmm. You...

grew up staunchly middle class,

which means you were poor for the rich people and rich for the poor people,

so you feel you never fitted in either.

You're used to people getting distracted

just by looking at you.

You've learned to use that.

Which makes you cleverer than most.

You dislike anyone who questions you,

especially when you know you're wrong.

And you have secrets.

Many...

that you'll never share.

I'm never wrong.

That's our Lee.

And I can pour my own wine, too.

Salute!

I've known you almost as long as I've known Jean.

And I love you nearly as much.

We miss you.

Come back to Paris with us.

I don't know who I am in Paris any more.

The question is,

who do you want to be now, Lee Miller?

And what are you going to do about that?

I've seen your work, you know.

Tits and ass,

I remember.

No, I mean your real work,

your photographic work.

You're really very impressive.

Thank you.

I'd rather take a picture than...

be one.

Do you mind if I come in?

You've known me for four hours.

Just imagine what I could know after five.

Roland?

Roland?

Ah.

Hello.

Morning.

We were taking bets

on what time we'd see you today.

Mm. Who won?

Guess.

Well, he's much less square than I would've thought.

Ah, he lives. Morning.

Barely.

- Morning. -Morning.

May I?

Please.

Now look here.

If I fall down these steps and die,

be sure to say nice things about me.

Don't let Man Ray go on one of his rants.

"She lived as she looked,

"frivolously and with adventure."

I'm not frivolous.

I'm not.

Where should we go from here?

Well...

Certainly not back down there.

I leave tomorrow.

Come with me to London?

When was the last time you spent longer than a few months in one place?

How can you possibly know all there is to know

if you stay in the same place all the time?

And you find enough purpose in that?

Well, maybe I haven't found anything

interesting enough to keep me around.

Anything or anyone?

God.

Don't run.

Well...

Would you just...

This little lady at the Shoe and Leather Fair

is showing off dainty footwear for policemen.

But the serious side of the show has some very pretty things for you to look at.

And you can look at the shoes too.

Going from one extreme to the other,

when Hitler has his 48th birthday,

they make a show of it in a big way.

In fact, over there,

the recipe for successful birthday parties

seems to be something like

throw a few hundred men on parade,

present a few dozen colours flapping in the breeze...

- Jesus, look at them all. - They're idiots.

But dangerous.

They're all brainwashed.

Not everyone can believe this.

Surely they can see what he is.

But they don't. Look at them.

This is not an act.

The only sane response

to tyranny is to paint.

- To create. - And drink.

And write! And dance!

I still don't understand

how none of you saw it coming.

It happened so slowly,

yet kind of overnight.

We woke up one morning

and Hitler was the most powerful man in Europe.

Even as it was happening it didn't feel real.

So what did you do?

Well...

I got on with my life.

By then, Europe was at war.

But it all seemed a long way from London.

Roland, as an artist and conscientious objector,

had been hired to develop camouflage techniques

for the war effort.

And we felt safe.

Roland?

Darling, you're back.

Holy hell.

Your turn.

Which attacked the Italian...

Please, let me start dinner.

Come on, I've had a breakthrough.

- You promised. - I didn't promise.

I make it a point never to promise anything.

All right.

- How was town? - Horrible.

It took forever to find a cab.

- Where do you want me? - Right here, please.

...a considerable blow

to Mussolini...

You ready?

All right, make me invisible.

If I can make you invisible

then I can hide anything.

...that the loss of German aircraft

to anti-aircraft defensive...

Be quick, I'm starving.

Queues were dreadful. But I did find us some butter today.

Mm-hmm.

And they had chilli powder at Fortnum's,

so if we have to eat rats,

at least they'll be well spiced.

Concentrate.

That's quite hard to do.

Oh, God.

Oh, Jesus!

Hmm?

Don't be territorial, Audrey.

Editorial, I think you mean.

Excuse me, Miss Withers. There's a Lee Miller to see you.

The Lee Miller?

What's she doing in London?

Goodness. Do show her in, Maud.

Do come in.

Thank you.

- Cecil Beaton, hello. - Well, well.

Something to say?

Lee Miller. I hear you're the woman to see about a job.

Audrey Withers.

And, yes, I am. Please, do sit down.

Thank you.

May I?

We don't hire older models.

Oh, don't blow a gasket.

- I'm not a model any more. - Oh, dear.

- So what exactly are you then? - Cecil.

Would you give us a moment?

Please.

I'll be back to fix this disaster.

I do apologise for Cecil.

- He can be a bit of a... - Monster?

No. He never could hide his disappointment

that women get old.

That's true.

And not entirely unique to men in fashion.

But he is irritatingly talented, so I manage.

Where was this taken?

That's, er, Syria.

Erm, my studio work is right here.

Er...

Oh, these really are rather spectacular.

Mm, thank you.

But Cecil is right, I'm afraid.

We're not hiring at the moment.

To be frank, what with all that's going on,

we're not sure how much longer they'll let us keep at it.

Let me get through the next issue,

see where we stand and we'll talk again.

How does that sound?

She didn't say no.

She didn't say yes.

You're looking at this the wrong way.

Oh, please. You weren't there.

I just wanna do my part, how hard can it be?

You'll find something, my love.

God, that is so patronising.

Darling, I need to tell you something.

What?

I've heard that people in Paris are going underground.

What do you mean?

It's getting dangerous.

Paul, Nusch, Solange, Jean,

they'll all be in hiding from the Nazis.

Why didn't you go back to Paris?

I couldn't. Not then.

Paris was occupied by the Nazis,

and Britain was all alone,

and we were totally cut off.

So, what else is there to know?

Oh, plenty.

And although my friends were living under occupation,

even they were doing something.

Paul and Nusch had joined the resistance.

But I didn't know that then

and I had no way of reaching them.

And, er...

And then everyone started doing their bit.

Roland was out most nights being an Air Raid Warden.

And I felt useless.

And the more depressed I got, the smaller my ass got.

Which is usually the opposite.

But did she end up giving you the job?

Oh, yeah, she caved pretty quickly.

I think she realised that wrangling Cecil Beaton

would be a lot more fun with another woman around.

Cecil Beaton...

Ugh.

- Is everyone all right? - Mercifully, yes.

Where's Audrey?

There.

It's actually not as bad as it looks. The structure is sound.

But we will need to move in the basement for a while.

Are we out of business?

Oh! I don't see why we should be.

I spoke to the Ministry this morning, and we have our paper ration.

- Well, that's a relief. - We also have a mission.

To encourage the women of Britain to do their duty.

Might I borrow these for a moment?

- Certainly. -Thank you.

Maud, come with me.

Er, and you.

- Would you care to join us? - She's so creative.

Just hold it in position...

- Okay. - ...with this ridiculous strap thing.

-I can't see a thing. - Can't see a thing?

- I can't see. -My gosh.

Here, this is your... Right here. Right, here we go.

There!

There, that's it.

Oh, goodness.

Maud, you can sit right there. All right, here we go.

Pay no attention to the burning building

over my shoulder.

The Blitz turned houses inside out,

streets upside down,

and created chaos for the people of London.

But everyone carried on

and I did what I could to capture it.

Men were sent off to fight.

The wives were left behind caring for their children.

Without that responsibility

we were able to be single-minded.

We worked all hours.

Anything to get the next issue out.

The months rolled by...

...bombs rained down.

It became part of daily life.

There were times when we froze our asses off,

but we just kept going.

Audrey was a terrific boss

and we became friends.

There wasn't much more to it than that.

Oh, Audrey.

Children?

Oh, God, no. You?

Oh, God, no.

May I?

So you never actually wanted children?

Well, I never thought I could.

I was never cut out for mothering.

Why are you asking an old woman so many questions?

- Come on, you're not that old. - Oh.

Now, isn't that like a man?

First, I'm not young enough, then I'm not old enough.

Just trying to understand.

What?

Trying to understand you.

Target...

I was ambitious.

I was good at shooting on my own.

Er...

Maybe form a line.

In my experience,

working partnerships were tricky.

And there can only be one boss.

Evening, ladies.

But then Davy Scherman from Life Magazine showed up.

- Hello. - Hiya.

Not exactly the place I thought

I'd find another Yank.

Uh-huh.

It's a little bit dark.

I know.

May I?

Suddenly it wasn't a competition, we were a team.

It felt easy.

- Left a little. - Yes, ma'am.

- Say "Blitz". -Blitz!

Thank you.

- Thank you. - You're welcome.

I'm afraid this is as far as you can go, ma'am.

No, I... I'm with Vogue Magazine.

Look, she's with me.

You need military accreditation

beyond this point.

Oh, God.

The publications were informed, ma'am.

Only non-military access for women.

Please make your way over toward the mess block.

Jeez.

You think they'd let up after I spent hours in that goddamn car.

Sorry.

Oh.

- Hello. -Oh, excuse me.

I'm Lee Miller. I work for Vogue.

Oh! Ann Douglas, ATA.

Wow, you fly.

Only ferrying our bombers between bases. But...

Yes, I do.

Would you mind if I took your picture?

Oh, no problem.

Your work, it really, erm...

It lets us know what's going on out there.

Thank you.

Let's push you back over here by the door.

Let's try that.

There you go.

See if we can get you in the magazine.

Oh. Does this sort of thing get published?

Hopefully.

Would you mind taking off your hat?

Wonderful. Here we go.

There.

Don't wanna take any more of your time.

Pleasure meeting you.

Lovely to meet you, Miss Miller.

Are you still staying in that shitty hotel?

Not for long if I keep bringing home broken mirrors.

Mm. Well, you're welcome to stay here.

- We have the room. -You sure?

And Roland wouldn't mind?

The only people who care

about the men I'm sleeping with are the men I'm not sleeping with.

Away?

Where?

The coast.

I'm only a few hours away.

For how long?

A while, I expect.

We're getting ready, aren't we?

For the invasion of Europe.

Oh, I know as much as you do, I'm afraid.

I'll be disguising tanks to look like ice cream kiosks,

but I didn't tell you that.

Davy, take our picture before he leaves.

Yep.

Aw.

Don't go. It won't be long.

Stop.

No. No. No!

Not some poor woman's intimates!

If Lee Miller thinks she can...

It's not about what Lee Miller thinks

or doesn't think, Cecil.

This is about our duty to our readers.

Those of us without housekeepers

or hot water

care about a lot more than couture.

- It's not Vogue's place... - It's not your place!

The pants stay on the line. Thank you.

Lee.

Cecil.

Well, I think that's what you English call

getting your knickers in a twist.

Only a woman could have taken these.

Well, thank you.

Audrey, listen to me.

When the time comes, send me to Europe.

The Ministry has been very clear

that when the time comes, our duty will be...

To do our bit. Yes, yes, yes. I know, I know.

But why should the men get to decide what that is?

Why can't women go to the frontline? Why?

As much as I admire your tenacity, and I do, Lee,

it wouldn't work.

You wouldn't be able to get anything back to us without military sanction.

It's just fruitless.

I'm sorry.

Ask again.

Yeah. Yeah.

I'll be there.

All right, so long.

When do you go?

Dakota leaves in the morning.

You don't even speak French.

Hey.

Scoot over.

What's going on? You all right?

That's bullshit.

It's bullshit!

I know it's not your fault.

But I should have the right to go as much as you do.

The only reason you get to go is because you have a set of balls.

Lee, I was sleeping.

Look, I don't wanna go anywhere.

I'm happy right here in this bed with you.

I understand, I really do.

The British and their damn rules,

they're never gonna send you.

Besides, you're an American.

Holy shit.

Holy shit!

That's right, I'm an American.

I'm an American.

You're a genius, Davy Scherman.

You're a goddamn, fucking genius!

Turns out, I'd been barking up the wrong tree.

The British were never going to send

a female correspondent to a war zone.

But the Americans were different.

They weren't held back by tradition.

You're absolutely sure you want to do this?

Yes. Yes, yes, yes, yes, yes.

Will you be all right?

Let's hope so.

Do be careful.

- Please. - I'll try.

I was born determined.

And I had never felt so alive.

It was all an adventure to me.

I had to be where the action was

and that was Europe,

and I'd arrived.

And finally had a chance to see things for myself.

There's no women allowed in the press briefings.

You've gotta be kidding me.

Is there a powder room around here?

The enemy is well-trained,

well-equipped,

and battle-hardened.

Our air offensive has reduced their strength in the air

and their capacity to wage war on the ground.

As you may know, we, along with our allies,

have increased the target bombing over Germany

over the course of the past few weeks.

Now, you will each be assigned to specific units

as we continue to put the pressure

on the ground attack here in France.

It's pretty lively out there.

Watch your backs, your fronts.

Eyes on the road.

Dismissed.

You!

Well, you must be Lee Miller?

Well, it's a war zone, Colonel.

Just Lee is fine.

Well, "Just Lee", there's no women

in the press briefings.

I assume you received the instruction.

I guess I didn't hear correctly.

Can you hear me now?

Yes, sir.

We don't send women to combat.

Well, that's a problem because I'm here.

Which means...

Which means I have to deal with you.

Follow me.

These doctors perform over 100 procedures per day.

Every day.

Just hold still.

Excusez-moi.

We need some scissors here.

Jesus Christ! Light!

I need a light over here.

Here. Here, here. Over here with that.

- Lights! -Oh.

Come here.

Even when I wanted to look away...

I knew I couldn't.

Roland wrote to me every week

begging me to come home.

He didn't understand why I wanted to be there.

There were moments when I didn't either.

- May I? - Of course.

We have to keep going.

Hey.

I've seen you here.

Who are you?

I'm Lee.

- I'm with Vogue Magazine. - Yeah?

You scouting for models?

I don't need to, found you.

What's your name?

Kurt.

You have beautiful eyes, Kurt.

I've got my mom's eyes.

Lucky boy.

They tell me I'm going home.

Hey,

can you take my picture?

When I get home and all handsome

I want my girl to see how brave I was.

Of course.

Miller.

Will you make sure they print that?

I promise.

Grab your kit. You're going to Saint-Malo.

- You can hitch a ride with Civil Affairs. - Really?

Write your own obituary and send it to your editor

before you leave.

Standard practice.

Don't get excited. Town's pacified.

Goddamn it! Get out of here! Move!

What?

Hey! We have to move, come on.

What the hell are you doing here?

They just said it was pacified.

No, no. You can't be here, lady.

Stay there!

Let's go! Eyes on me!

Charlie Three!

This is Baker One-Five.

Still receiving heavy fire from enemy position. Over!

Coordinates...

Coordinates 325...

364. 364. Over.

Don't mind me.

Up 100, left 200.

Up 100, left 200.

I'd stay away from that window, Mac.

They've got snipers.

What the fuck was that?

- Jesus Christ, you again? - You said to stay here.

- Downstairs now. Now! - No, wait.

You wanna be useful,

there's a bunch of French women in the cellar.

- Listen, buddy... - Find me one

that speaks English. God!

She's the one! She's the one there!

Shut up!

I'm not done.

You want me to shut up?

She's been talking,

telling the Germans everything.

Stop.

Stop, Madame, that's enough.

Hold your tongue.

Hold your tongue.

Mademoiselle, are you alright?

Tell me what happened, I'm not a soldier.

See?

He wasn't like the others,

I swear.

He was kind.

He said he loved me.

And now I'm scared.

I'm not a collaborator,

I swear I'm not.

He told me he loved me.

Yeah, honey, that's what they all say.

They all say the same thing, it's not your fault.

It's not your fault.

Dry your eyes.

What you got?

That evil witch says her neighbour's

been tipping off the Germans about your night drops.

And the blonde?

She's just a girl who got taken advantage of.

Sure she did.

What did you say?

That's what they all say.

-Private. - How dare you?

What the hell?

They put up the white flag!

Asshole.

Heil Hitler.

Fuck.

Who do I have to sleep with to get some dinner around here?

About fucking time.

Not to be sentimental but...

I am glad you're not dead.

Good to see you.

Come on.

So...

Are you all right?

Yeah.

Yeah, I'm fine.

This goddamn blank page.

Spoken like a true writer.

I want it to be good.

I want it to be true, but I...

I want it to be good.

Worry about the true part first.

Make it good later.

- I'm happy to see you. -Yeah, you, too.

It was napalm, wasn't it?

Well, we didn't know it was napalm

until much later.

Audrey couldn't figure out

why the censors refused to print it.

Never thanked her.

For what?

Well...

For trying.

What's that?

It's a poem.

By Paul Eluard.

Who's he?

He's... He...

He's my friend.

FREEDOM

"On my school books.

"On my desk.

"And on the trees.

"On the sand.

"On the snow.

"I write your name."

Excuse me.

Allez!

Excuse me.

What're they saying?

That she's a whore.

A dirty, collaborating whore.

No one can tell you what it feels like.

Shame.

There are different kinds of wounds.

Not just the ones you can see.

Liberation.

The word was as joyous as it felt.

People celebrated.

But Paris was just one city.

The war continued across Europe.

The fighting was far from over.

And for me, well, things were just getting going.

David Scherman and Lee Miller.

Any packages for Lee Miller?

Merci.

Mm-hmm.

Another loving metaphor?

Mm. Hmm.

Oh! God bless you, Audrey Withers.

If we're heading out do I, er, do I get to shave first?

That's all right. I'm, er...

I need to see a friend.

- I won't be long. - All right.

Relax. Come on. Take it off.

No. You wanted this.

No.

Come on.

Stop. Please.

No.

- No. -This is what you want.

Just shut up. Shut... Shh!

No! Shut up.

- You fuck, fuck! - What?

- Get off of her! -Get off of me.

- Crazy bitch. -Get away from her.

- Fucker, leave her alone! - Jesus Christ.

Asshole!

Jesus Christ.

You think they'd be more grateful.

Get outta here.

Get outta here! Go on!

Dumb bitch.

Fucking...

Are you all right?

Here.

Next time...

cut it off!

Excuse me, madame.

Excuse me, Madame.

I'm looking for someone who lived here.

Madame.

Solange?

Lee.

Oh, Solange!

Solange.

Oh!

Oh, my God. You're skin and bones.

You're freezing.

Yes.

Sit.

Come sit. Sit.

Solange...

They're gone.

Everyone's gone.

My son's gone.

He was trying to reach the outskirts of Paris

to welcome the Americans.

We're here now.

Everything will be all right.

They shot him.

- The Germans. - What?

Jean made him promise not to join the resistance.

But I...

I could not stop him

after they took his father away.

- They took Jean away? - Yes.

Where did they take him?

I looked for him after they released me.

Released you from...

From... From where, Solange? I don't understand.

You have to ask these questions

because you weren't here.

So you don't know.

No.

Come back to the hotel with me.

What if Jean comes back and he can't find me?

What if he comes back and there's this mess?

Please come with me.

I promise I'll take care of you.

Promise.

Don't make promises you can't keep.

Davy!

Oh.

Davy!

Davy Scherman!

Lee, what are you doing?

Did they lock...

Did they lock the door?

Come on.

All right, all right.

Where'd you go? What the hell happened?

Here, drink this.

Okay. All right.

You're a good guy, Davy.

You're one of the good ones.

Yeah. I'm all right.

Really bad things do happen.

You know?

Bad things do happen to some of us girls.

Lee...

Lee, honey, what do you mean by that?

You know what?

We'll talk about it later.

Let's get you to bed, okay?

Lean back.

There you go. There you go.

It's all right.

Well, I think it's safe to say you're getting the hang of this.

You think?

- It's damn good. - Oh.

"And by the power of the word

"I start my life again.

-"I am born to know you. -"To name you."

Liberte!

Oh.

I gave her my helmet.

She pissed in it.

Emptied it out the window. I'm trying not to look.

You know, disinfects it with hooch. And then hands it straight back to me.

And being Davy, he put it right back on his head.

Yep.

That's right.

Men usually do idiotic things around our Lee.

It feels...

It feels strange to laugh.

We could never laugh in hiding.

We could barely breathe.

Paris is like a smile

where half the teeth are missing.

I saw Solange.

They kept her in prison for three months.

We didn't know where.

We didn't know if she was alive.

And then one day she was back.

- Why did they take her? - Who knows.

Evil Nazi logic.

And what's happened to Jean?

Do...

- Do you know anything? -No.

We just...

We just don't know. Everyone's looking for someone

but none of us have any answers.

They're fucking barbarians.

And it's not just Jews.

Artists. Communists. Homosexuals.

Black people. Gypsies.

Anyone with an opinion.

Anyone who didn't fit their ideals.

They just disappeared. And with no warning.

All we know is

they pushed them onto trains.

Old women.

Tiny children.

And when they go off on those trains,

they don't come back.

Where do they take them?

They're just gone.

So many people are gone.

People don't just disappear.

Je sais pas. I don't... I don't know.

They do.

Mm.

Yes. Yes!

Audrey Withers.

Thanks for the care package.

Lee! How's liberation of gay Paris?

They say it's marvellous. It must just be one big party.

We're all on tenterhooks to hear what you have to say,

of course.

We're actually celebrating here.

Maud's mother's made a cake.

Have you spoken to Roland? How's he getting along?

Lee?

Are you there?

Have there been any reports of missing people in the news?

Missing?

I don't understand.

Thousands and thousands of missing people.

Erm, anything?

Sorry, it's not very clear. Who's missing?

- It's not over at all. - I know.

But by the time the next issue goes to print

I'm sure there'll be more good news.

Erm...

I've gotta go.

What...

- Do... Do be careful... -

What?

Look what the cat dragged in.

Oh, God!

Are you all right?

Mm-hmm.

I think you should come home.

I can't just come home, Roland.

I've missed you terribly.

This'll all be over soon.

I think you've got to let me look after you now.

Look after me?

Oh, Jesus Christ.

- What's the matter? - Is that why you're here?

To escort me home?

No. No.

Everything's changed. It's all different now.

I'm the same.

You're the same.

Everything will be back to normal,

it'll all be better.

Normal?

You only want me home so you can feel better about spending the war painting some fucking sheds.

There's no need to be cruel.

- What are you talking about? - Please keep your voice down.

People are missing. Our friends.

I can't just come home, sit still, and do nothing.

Lee.

- I don't have a choice. - That's not true.

Have you heard a goddamn word I just said?

Yes, I have.

I'm just worried about you.

Well, don't.

And I love you.

Come home.

Please.

I love you, too.

Roland thinks I should...

"Roland thinks" is not really a sentence

I'd like to hear finished right now.

I'm heading to the front.

Ready to go?

That's not what I thought you were gonna say.

Why didn't I just go home?

I guess I could have.

But I've always been the last to leave the party.

You want some?

Everybody's taking them.

Takes the edge off.

I'm all right, thanks.

Suit yourself.

Oh, God.

My entire body hurts.

Ugh!

We drove for months.

Didn't wash for weeks.

Five hundred miles into the worst of it all.

- Colonel. - Miller.

Suicide pacts.

We're finding them everywhere.

Whole families swallowing cyanide.

We the first ones here?

Yes, you are.

Thanks.

There's so much life in a person's eyes.

Right up until the moment that there isn't.

It was no longer something I'd heard about or imagined.

It was real.

Okay, that's far enough.

Once you've seen it...

...you can never unsee it.

No sign of life, sir.

No sign of life.

No sign of life, sir.

Oh, my God.

-Davy. - Yeah?

Davy, give me a leg up.

All right.

Okay.

It's all right.

It's all right.

See?

I'm not gonna hurt you.

I'm not gonna hurt you.

I'm not gonna hurt you.

Jesus Christ.

What?

Davy.

And go.

All right, let's go.

Got it?

Yeah.

- Okay, come on. -Yeah.

Davy, slow down. Slow down.

Is this it?

Yeah, left. Left.

Prinzregentenplatz, yeah.

-Hiya, press. - This place is off limits.

Officers only.

- Cigarette? - Thank you.

- It's kinda chilly out, huh? -Sure is.

I'm Lee Miller.

This is my friend David Scherman.

We'd love to step inside

for a few moments if...

that would be all right.

Thank you.

- Good evening. -Ma'am.

You guys got any requests?

Welcome to Hitler's humble abode.

Thanks.

-Cigarette? - Oh. Thank you.

- Thank you. -Pleasure.

- Hi. - Hi.

Davy.

Fuck.

After you.

Hey, Davy, it's hot.

Davy.

Come here.

- What? - Come on, quick. I need you.

For what?

- Is it good? - Locked.

All right.

All right.

Here?

Yeah.

- Ready? - Yeah. You?

- Oh. Hot! - Wipe off the frame.

Yeah. Fucking thing.

Wait.

Jesus Christ!

Is that in?

- Just check. - All right, it's in. Come on.

Make sure you can't see my tits,

we'll never get it past the censor.

Go.

Davy?

I... I don't know...

All those people.

All those people.

They were all my people.

Hitler and Eva Braun were dead

by the time we were in his apartment.

They'd committed suicide in Berlin.

But we didn't know that.

Did that change how you felt?

Washing in Der Fuhrer's bathtub?

What on earth made you do that?

You think it was wrong?

I think it sounds like you.

- What does that mean? - Being impulsive.

Not thinking about the consequences

or appearances.

Why the hell should I care about appearances?

Why don't you answer some goddamn questions, hmm?

Fine.

Tell me about your mother.

What do you want me to say?

Up to you.

I spent my entire life

thinking that I was the problem.

My mere existence was the problem.

Took me a long time to realise it wasn't me. It was her.

I felt like she blamed me

for everything that went wrong in her life.

And...

And that made me feel like I ruined everything for her.

That's really what you think?

Do you have another explanation?

That's disappointing.

Stop.

Jesus Christ.

I think it's here.

Where are they?

- Where are my pictures? -Are they not there?

- Let me look. - No, they're not fucking here!

Lee? Hello, can I help you?

Are... Are you looking for something in particular?

Er...

Can I... Can I help?

Where are they? Huh?

Oh, goodness!

Stop! Stop! Please, you mustn't.

These are mine.

I took them. I decide what happens to them.

Lee!

Stop! Stop! Stop, stop, stop!

Stop, they're an historical record.

Well, who cares? Nobody saw them!

You didn't print them.

I fought for them, Lee. I fought for them!

- Fuck! - These must be preserved.

For what? To just sit in a filing cabinet?

The Ministry thought they may disturb people.

Fuck! This happened!

- This really happened. - Lee. Lee!

- This happened. - Lee, Lee.

These images will disturb people

more than they've already been disturbed.

People need to move on.

Move on? Move on?

All right. This little girl, in a death camp,

raped and beaten!

How does she move on? How does she move on?

Ever. Ever.

Ever.

I just wanna...

I've sent them to New York.

And I'm hoping that American Vogue

will publish them.

I'm really trying, Lee. I'm really trying.

Not hard enough.

You're not trying hard enough.

I know you think I've let you down.

And I wish

that you'd let me explain

before you started destroying them.

I'm sorry.

My mother was unwell

when I was seven years old.

So I was sent to stay with

family friends until she got better.

They were nice people.

They were good to me.

But there was another man who came to visit.

He had dark hair.

He took care of me at the house when the...

The family went into town one day.

He took me into the bedroom

and told me,

"Lie down."

And he...

He...

My mother said I should never tell.

She was...

She was so ashamed.

So I've never told.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

It's unthinkable.

But it happens all the time.

And they just get away with it.

This is a...

lock of hair

from your first haircut.

This is the first book I ever read to you.

This is the first picture you ever drew.

This is the first picture

I ever took of you and your father.

I know I made mistakes.

And I know I may not have been a good mother, Tony.

But I really tried.

Why didn't you tell me about any of this?

I wish I'd known.