All language subtitles for (ololo.to) The Triple Echo (1972)

That's it, my old dear, that's it.

There, you see,
I knew you'd want it.

That's a clever boy.

Now it's just the paraffin and
the chocolate, Mrs Charlesworth.

That's it. Oh, you'll be
wanting the coupons for that.

Oh, I'll just take the eggs
for the paraffin,

and you can give me tuppence
ha'penny for the chocolate.

Thanks very much.

There you are.

- Thank you.
- I'll, er...

I'll take the basket now,
if I may, please.

There you are.

Hey!

Hey, you!

What are you doing on
other folks' land?

I was walking.

This is my land.

I missed my way.

I thought there'd be
a footpath down this.

Well, there isn't.

"That the gun unloaded be.
Matters not the least to me."

It is loaded.

Then you shouldn't be
pointing it, should you?

You're still trespassing.

Not if I give you sixpence.

Sixpence?

Token payment for any damage
I might have done.

- Who says that?
- My dad.

Well, I've had two-legged foxes
after the hens before this.

You're not afraid of me, are you?

I didn't say that.
I've had stuff pinched.

Nightingale.

Haven't heard one in ages.
We get 'em at home, though.

Go on, get off.

There's no way down...

Okay.

Hey.

What?

- You can go down this way.
- I can?

Well, it brings you out on the road
that much sooner.

- Thanks.
- Don't make a habit of it.

Well, you know what they say
about soldiers.

Always on the scrounge.

No need to worry about me.

I'm not anybody.
Name's Barton.

Was that you shooting?

In the yard. A rat.

And up there? Apart from me.

Rabbit, hare, anything to
help out the rations.

- You shouldn't go after hare.
- Go after what I like.

- They're bad luck.
- Who says that? Your dad again?

Gave me a turn.

His goggles, just hanging...
on nothing, really.

Battle of Britain.

I saw it come down two year ago.

- Pilot couldn't have stood an earthly.
- No.

Hey, it's nice.

You should have seen it pre-war.

Like our place.

- Where's that, then?
- Oxfordshire.

Dad and me
used to work it together.

Well, you don't look like
a farmer's boy.

No, I'm not now, am I?
Damn well made me into a soldier.

It's hard on my dad.
On his own.

I should know.

- I go up that way, do I?
- That's it.

Look, I'm just going to have my tea.
Would you like some?

- Oh no, I...
- It's only eggs.

- You hungry?
- Yes.

I'm never short of eggs.

Oh, be quiet, silly old thing.

- Two on a raft.
- Oh, is that what they call it?

- Don't they?
- I've not heard it before.

Help yourself to milk and sugar.

Can I...?

Go on, I can drink tea
with or without.

Thanks.

That's real tea.

The muck we get.

Sorry there's no bacon. I ate
the last of the ration on Thursday.

You ought to keep pigs.

Mmm. Jack wanted to, but...
oh, I don't know.

- Your husband?
- Yeah.

He's a prisoner of war with the Japs.

Sometimes I think
I'll never see him again.

You ought to be using this.

Oh, fat chance.
Packed up on me last year.

Bet I could fix it.

You couldn't.

Do it tomorrow.

Don't they give you
nothing to do in the Army?

It's ridiculous. All bull and waffle
about the second front.

Cushy war for some.

Yeah, when I could be on the land.

Still, I'd better get on,
or they'll have my bollocks off.

- Oh, sorry.
- It's all right.

- Here, I'll give you a hand with that.
- Oh, ta.

Thanks for the tea, then.

You be here tomorrow?

Am I ever anywhere else?

- Well, thanks again for the tea.
- It's all right. It was nothing.

Fresh eggs, real tea.

You'll be telling me next
I don't know there's a war on.

No, I wouldn't. Not with
your husband a POW with the Japs.

No.

- Well, good night then.
- Night.

- Cup of tea.
- Thank you.

How's it going?

- All right.
- Well, it's not, is it?

- Ah, it will be.
- Says you.

Hey! Sounds like he's
got that tractor going.

Come on, me old dear,
let's see if we got a new tractor.

Off we go.

Hey! Get out of the way, chickens.
Move!

Come for a ride!

Oh, don't be daft,
you big, soft dog.

Good Lord!

- Last one.
- Yeah.

Well, that turps has done the trick.
See, all the oil's gone.

Ssh!

He doesn't like me.

Shouldn't. He's a one-man dog.
Always was.

And old.

There.

It looks worse than it is.
That's just the rinsing.

Well, get the creases straight.
Front and back.

I do know about trousers.

- Well, so does Gunner Barton.
- Oh, ah.

I'm well known at the depot.
Do other blokes' BD. Bob a pair.

- Don't trust me, then?
- Well, we'll see. Here.

Ah, blooming tramlines.
Here, I'll do it.

- Know everything, don't you?
- I'm a trained man.

- Same time tomorrow, then?
- No. I'm on guard.

Oh. Might have said.

Oh, I forgot.

Lose all track of time up here.

So it'll be the day after.
All right?

Course it is.

Well...

Good night, Alice.

Night.

That was a lousy...

Gun's no good.

It's cockeyed.

Well, I get the rats all right.

Yeah, only 'cause you're
breathing down their necks.

It's twisted right out of true.

It's very dangerous.

I'll have a good look at it
when I get back.

Hey, come on. Lie down.

Good dog.

He likes you in Jack's old clothes.
Hasn't growled once, has he?

No.

Whole week's leave.

My dad'll be pleased, won't he?

Like him now, don't you, boy?
Eh? Good dog, that's it.

You miss me?

Managed before.

Yes, I suppose you have.

You in those clothes.

You said I was to wear them.

You ought to have taken them in.

Well, I was going to, wasn't I?
Only there wasn't time.

Not tonight, not with you
coming up out of the blue.

I'd better change.

Alice!

Oooh, I could...
Here, let me.

Oh, it's not heavy.

You look so different.

Me?

I'm a master of disguise.

Thought you said your leave
didn't start till tomorrow?

Oh, I swung it.
Got off a day early.

So you're going home today?

Mmm.

What time's your train?

Midnight.

- Oh, so you can stop for dinner?
- Mm-hmm.

Do you want horseradish?

Roast beef. Yorkshire pud.
Horseradish.

You don't know
there's a war on, do you?

Oh, well, it's just...

I traded five dozen eggs
for the beef.

I looked in the postbox.

Must have been sent
before he was captured.

You had a good look, then,
didn't you?

Just an old card.

"All my love, Jack."

When they're captured,
you get a telegram.

Posted last October.

It's taken all of six months.

Yeah.

Sorry.

It's not your fault.

Nothing to do with you.

Want that horseradish?

Come on, for a walk.

What's up, eh?

Your dinner's ready.

Now, it's you.

You look different.

Yes.

Come on!

- It's a hand-embroidered tablecloth!
- All right!

Hurry up! Come on!

- Damn coat!
- Oh, come on, never mind that.

Whose idea was it
to eat in the garden?

Getting all drenched out here.

Soaking, this jacket.

- You're not bringing that through.
- Course I am.

You are not.
Take it round. Don't be daft.

God!

How are you doing?

Want a hand?

You all right?

Mind out!
I'm Hitler's secret weapon!

- Oh!
- You banged yourself?

I'm all right.

- He thinks we're mad.
- Well, we are.

Oh, the chairs!
Look at the chairs!

You're not going through the...
Oh, look at that mud everywhere!

Dear Lor'! Come on!

- You all right?
- Yes.

You're covered in mud!

- Come on out. It's stopped.
- It hasn't stopped. It's pouring down.

- I can't get through here.
- Course you can.

Come on, give me your hand.

Hang on, hang on!

Good. Jump.
All right?

Oh, look at your face.

- You got a hanky anywhere?
- Yeah, it's in that pocket.

- You're not shocked?
- No.

No.

Why should I be?

I wanted...

I wanted it.

Alice. Alice.

It's a peaceful sort of name.

It's quiet.

The war never has been here.

For me.

Just isn't here at all.

Oh, there's no justice in this world.

The length of your eyelashes.

Mine won't keep the dust out.

This is Richard Dimbleby.

There has been no slackening today
in the great battle of El Alamein,

which, as it continues day by day,
with undiminished intensity,

is gradually moving towards its end.

There is no indication whatever yet...

I always listen to the news.

You didn't last night.

No more war. Not here.

- Did a good tidy-up.
- Mmm.

- Milked the cow.
- Mm-hmm.

Expect you're wondering
about your train?

No.

You have to get the ball from me.

- You ready?
- No, you come and tackle. Come on!

Right, now you've got to
let me get it this time.

- That's it! Oh, look!
- Oh, get off!

You can't do... no!

Ah! No, you... get off!

No!

No, the goal's at the other end!

Come on!

No!

Come on!

I'm not playing any more.

- Why not?
- I'm too bushed, that's why.

- Did you score?
- Yes.

Five-nothing.

It's not what you'd call pretty, is it?

But I like it.

- It's like me.
- Who says?

I do. And my mother.

Smile.

There, you're both wrong.

You and your mother.

Only two days left.

There's a funny thing.
Now, this is a funny thing.

I went home the other night.
There's a funny thing!

And I went in the back way,
through the kitchen,

through the dining room
and the drawing room.

And there's a fella standing there,
not a stitch on.

Can you imagine that, ladies?

How's your memory, girl?

He hasn't got a stitch on.
I brought the wife in. I said, "Who's this?"

She said, "Don't lose your temper,
Miller, don't go raving mad."

I said "I'm only asking
a fair question. Who is it?"

She said, "He's a nudist, and he's
come in to use the phone." 'Ere!

There's a clever one for the wife, eh?

You can still
come up in the evening.

- It's not the same.
- No, but...

Come on.

I'm not going back.

You've got to go back.

What for?

Square-bashing, fatigues,
bull, whitewashing bloody stones.

You can't not go back
after your leave.

No, it's finished.
I'm bloomin' going over the hill.

Well, that can't be right.

Why can't it be?

Well, I mean...
it doesn't matter where you go.

Wherever you go, they're going to
find you in the end if you desert.

I'm not going anywhere.

Who said I was going anywhere?

I'm staying. Here.

But that lets me in.

Oh, all right.
All right, if you don't want...

- No, I'm sorry, I didn't mean that.
- Look, I only...

I only meant for a day or two.

Couple of days.

I've... got the barn roof to fix.

Plus that four acre bit,
to get ploughed for Brussels.

- It's just you sounded so determined.
- Well, I am, but...

Not if you don't...

you know...

want me to stay.

Oh, I do.

You know I do.

It'll be all right.

We'll be all right.

Oh, it's bloomin' barmy!

Well, you've got to be somebody.

I mean, people talk.
I've had inspectors,

there's an old pack man
who comes round. News gets about.

I can't walk about the farm
dressed in that!

Why can't I be your brother
on sick leave?

Don't be daft. How long does
sick leave last? For ever?

I mean, I've thought and I've thought,
and this just seems to be the best.

I know.

Come on, try it on.

- No, I'm not put... I am not...
- Now come on, I've sewn it now.

- Just for a look. Come on.
- No!

Let's see you up close.
There, you see?

- That's lovely, isn't it? Isn't that lovely?
- No, don't do... I am not...

Will you stop?
I am not wearing that!

What?

- Switch it off!
- What?

Switch the tractor off!

What, and break my nails
starting it again?

Oh, turn it off!

Thank you.

- You're my sister from Coventry.
- Who says?

- I say, and your name's Jill.
- Jill?

Well, it was the woman
in the shop.

She kept asking why I was
buying extra stuff and that.

Gave her my ration book, did you?

Don't be daft.
I had to say something.

I don't like the name Jill.

Well, it was the first name
that came into my head.

And you don't have to like it,
just remember it.

Bloody ridiculous.

Haven't got a darker powder,
have you?

It's for my sister Jill, see,
and she's that much darker than I am.

Oh. Dunno.

I mean, it may have got a bit damp.

Gone all caked, I shouldn't wonder.

Well, it's the colour, really.
Let's see, now, it's like this...

Well, it's certainly darker.

- Let me take this one.
- Mmm. All right.

Right, last chance.

Come on, put your head up.
Come on. Now, open your mouth.

It's only a little sweet.

Good dog. Come on.
Come on. Come on.

Open your blooming mouth!

Oh, good God!

Ugh!

How is he?

- No better.
- Did you give him that aspirin?

He wouldn't let me.

- Wouldn't let you?
- Wouldn't.

- Don't be daft. He's as soft as...
- He nearly took my hand off.

Where?

Well, he didn't actually.
I was too quick.

It's you who's soft.

Did he frighten you then,
my old darling, eh?

Did you, then?
Never mind. Aaah.

Where is it?

- I dropped it.
- Well, where's the bottle?

That's my lovely.
What's the matter, then, eh?

Never mind, that's it.

There. Come on, now, my lovely.
That's it, up.

That's it. Come on, my darling.
Never mind.

Ssh. That's it.
Now.

Only have to be firm.

He's your dog.

He's Jack's dog.

You've let the fire go out.

Yes.

You haven't done the ironing,
I suppose?

- No, I haven't.
- Oh, no. What have you been doing?

- My nails and my hair.
- Is that all?

It's important. It was you
decided I had to look like a girl.

You didn't have to behave like one.

- I don't!
- Don't you?

I'll show you.

Daft.

This can come off,
for a start!

- What are you doing?
- Mind your own business!

What are you doing?
You can't cut your hair!

- Give those...
- Give them to me. Don't be daft.

It's onlyjust started to grow.
Don't... you can't have it,

Give me those!

I can't do anything,
according to you.

I can't go out, I can't work.
All I can be is your sister.

I just didn't want you
to cut your hair, that's all.

That's all.

Oh, get off.

Not in the afternoon.

What's the matter with that?

Not in the mood for it,
that's what's the matter with that.

Yeah, well, when are you ever now?

Oh, well, of course,
the only thing you ever think of.

Well, what else have I got to do,
cooped up in here?

Alice...

Be lovely, wouldn't it,
if I got pregnant?

Fuckin' hell.

Bawbey Wood Farm?

Yes?

Thank you, Sergeant.

- I'm prepared to ask the questions.
- Sah!

- I'm sorry to butt in on you like this.
- That's all right.

- Not exactly spring-like, this morning?
- Should it be?

Just a...
I wonder, can you help us?

According to our map, there should be
a road going right through here.

- Here?
- Going through your farm.

It's obvious it doesn't, isn't it?

- Possibly, my Sergeant misread...
- Oh, no.

Sir.

- This is your farm?
- Yes.

Damn peculiar.

There can't be two Bawbey Wood Farms?

There's Bawbey Wood Grange, further up,
close to the hills, like we are.

It was, er...

burned down just before the war.
Struck by lightning.

They sold off the land,
and we bought this.

Sergeant, much is explained.

Oh, good.

Your husband about, is he?

No.

He's a prisoner of war
with the Japs.

Oh, bad show.

So you're alone up here?

- Well, there's my sister...
- Mind if I poke around?

See how all this tallies
with the hills behind?

Still foxes me, rather.

Your sister married too, is she?

- No.
- Oh.

Younger than you, is she?

Or older?

Younger.

You ever go dancing?

No.

I'll bet you used to, though, eh?

Nothing much to do round here,
I'll bet, eh?

We manage.

Two girls alone.

I should have brought
my mate Stan up.

He's a corporal.

We could have made up
a foursome, eh?

His quick-step's electric.

Your sister like dancing?

No.

Oh, come on. You're young.

After a day's work here, all we're
good for is to drop into bed.

All you're good for?

I'll bet you're very good!

Got my bearings now.

Our map's a nonsense.

All that wood ought to keep
you and your sister very snug.

Her old titties needed that, then, eh?

You can feel
the pressure easing, I bet.

Well, no joy.

No dancing, eh?

No, I said.

Well, maybe I'll ask
your sister, then.

Well, she won't either.

She's not very strong.
She's not been too well.

Did I say I like 'em strong?

Weak but willing, that'll do me.

My mate Stan, he, er...

He likes a real hard pull
on the old teat, does Stan.

All right, Sergeant.
All is clear.

Sah!

The road we want is
where the other farm used to be.

Time we cracked on.

Thank you for putting us straight,
Mrs Charlesworth.

Do you keep pigs?

- Your officer, he's going.
- Well, let him wait.

He's got two pips,
but that's all he's got.

Lot of money in pigs.

Blokes is making a fortune.

No upkeep. Free swill.

Breed like flies.

No, it's too cold up here
to keep pigs.

There's a lot of swill
down the cookhouse.

I could have it
sent up if you like.

- Thank you, Sergeant. I'm waiting.
- Sah!

Well...

"Abyssinia", as they say, Mrs C.

Keep pulling.

Who's got a
pretty little bum, then, eh?

Not you, sir.

What did that officer say?

Piece of cake.
Didn't blink an eyelash.

- What did he say?
- Nothing!

- Are you sure?
- Course I am.

- Where are you going?
- After these silly buggers!

- You're daft!
- I know!

It worked! It worked!

What did that officer say to you?

- I said.
- No, exactly.

How his map was wrong.

What if he'd asked
for your identity card?

Why should he?
I fooled him, didn't I?

You wouldn't have fooled that Sergeant.
Eyes like gimlets, he had.

Who says I wouldn't?
Stupid Tank Sergeant?

Not on the table.

- Hey, you know what?
- What?

I can go shopping with you now,
can't I?

Don't be daft.

Why not?

Meet the lady in the shop, even.

- This is my sister from...
- Oh, talk sense!

What were they doing
round here? Why here?

I dunno. Something about
tanks and hills and...

"Make good tank training country,"
that's what he said.

So it'll be tanks
all round us next, will it?

Well, I dunno. How should I know
what the Tank Corps' gonna do?

You'll never see in the dark
if you don't eat your carrots.

♪...course the people do not understand

♪ Some say, "why don't you be a Scout

♪ "Why don't you read a book?"

♪ But I get lots more pleasure

♪ When I'm playing with me uke

♪ Of course I take no notice, you can tell

♪ For Mother's sound advice will always stand

- ♪ She said "My boy, do what I say..." ♪
- Hello, Stan. How'd you get in here, son?

Took your name in vain, didn't I?

♪ "If you keep your
ukulele in your hand..." ♪

- It's through.
- No!

Yeah. Saw your posting.
Chief Clerk tipped me off.

You crafty sod.

Lovely glass-house, here I come.

Guess what date it's effective?

- Christmas Eve.
- That's it. How'd you know?

Asked the new
Father Christmas, didn't I?

- Hey, you know what swung it?
- No.

That stint you done down in
Bovington as Provost Sarge.

That was the best year of my life.

You won't miss the tanks, then?

Who wants to die in a sardine tin?

- Now, I've got some news for you.
- What?

Crumpet info.

Any time.

- Here, have a sip.
- Ta.

This is no good. I'll have to...

What?

I'll have to draw out
my marriage allowance.

- You can't do that.
- Can't? I damn well have to.

I've got a stack of bills that high.

But I'll be living on
another man's earnings.

Well, you are, aren't you?

The money's got to come from
somewhere, hasn't it, to keep you?

I've had this letter saying I'm
entitled to 42 pounds ten.

But, even so,
I can't take it. I mean...

You say. It's me
has to manage, hasn't it?

Has to think for you, all the time.

It'll be the day when I don't,
won't it?

You wou...

you wouldn't...
wouldn't give me up.

Wouldn't let me down.

After all this time.

I could, couldn't I?

My funeral too, isn't it?

Oh, God.

Up a blooming gum tree.

Sitting pretty compared to some.

What do you mean by that?

You...

Shut the hens up.

Alice?

Oh, my God.

Oh, it's no good. We'll have to
put him out of his misery.

- We can't.
- Oh, we've let him suffer long enough.

- But you can't just...
- Do you think I want to?

No.

You'll have to carry him.

I can't.

I can't.

I can't.

♪ Daisy, Daisy

♪ Give me your answer, do

♪ I'm half crazy

♪ All for the love of you

♪ It won't be a stylish marriage

♪ I can't afford the carriage

♪ But I fuck sweet upon the seat

♪ Of a bicycle made for two... ♪

What's the matter with me?

It's all right,
Mrs C, it's only me.

Ha ha!

Ha ha ha!

♪ I'm half crazy

♪ All for the love of you

♪ It won't be a stylish marriage

♪ I can't afford a carriage ♪

Ha ha ha ha!

Ho ho ho!

We surrender.

Reach for the sky, Stanley.

There you are. We're all yours.

Oh, this is my mate Stanley.
He's the quick-step king.

Excuse me.

Cor blimey! What a welcome!

After commandeering top priority
transport as well.

Get upstairs, quick.
That Sergeant's here.

- What do I do?
- In bed, anything. Go on!

- We come in peace, Mrs C!
- Go on, upstairs.

What a to-do.

And all we're here to say is,
there's a dance tonight.

Eh?

You coming?

I don't go dancing.

Same old story.
No room at the inn.

- Not Christmas yet.
- That's as may be.

But we got some mistletoe
in our Naafi, haven't we, Stan?

Oh yes, you would have,
wouldn't you?

Yeah, and besides, our Stan
don't reckon me no more.

He says my chin's too stubbly.

So here we are.

You and your sister.

Touch of the old slide and glide?

How about it?

Coming?

I said no.

Don't worry, Stan.

Her frosty exterior conceals deep
hidden fires. I know. I can tell.

Where's your beautiful sister?

- In bed.
- Aye aye!

She's got a bad throat.

Well, she should keep it warm,
shouldn't she? Go on, just this once.

We are not coming dancing!

You're always speaking for your sister,
aren't you, Mrs Charlesworth?

She's quite the mystery woman,
isn't she, Mrs Charlesworth?

Mystery?

No mystery.
She just got a bad throat.

All right. Strategic withdrawal.

How about that?

Oh, don't worry, Mrs Charlesworth.

Stan knows a lot about
sporting rifles, don't you?

Look, I have to get
down to the village afore blackout,

then back here to lock up,
so would you mind?

All right, I'll give you a lift.

You'll walk, won't you, Stan?

Thank you.
I have my husband's bike.

Oh, so you've got trouble
with the crossbar, have you?

Would you please go.
I find your language...

Ho ho! So that's it, Stan, eh?

We're not posh enough for her.

She don't like speaking to nobody,
of course unless they're an officer.

No, that's not it.

This gun could blow
your bleeding ear off.

You wanna be careful, lady.

Would you please go?

All right, Stan.

Come on.

We've got our marching orders,
haven't we, eh?

Cheerio, Mrs Charlesworth.

Oh, er...

look after your sister's
throat for me, will you?

Cheers.

You were wrong.

Seems some married crumpet
doesn't mind what it's missing.

She'll warm up.

All we've got to do is to
regroup our forces and counter-attack.

What with?

Kept on, didn't they?

About the dancing.

Dunno what you're smiling at.
I was scared stiff.

Oh, I feel so tired all of a sudden.

That's the reaction.

Mmm. Must be.

Here we are again!

Oh, er... my mate Stan was
a little worried about your gun.

- Wasn't you, Stan?
- Yes, Arthur.

Hello, hello, hello.

Here she is at last, then, eh?

Eh?

- Oh, Stan was worried about your gun.
- Yeah.

Well, there's no need. I...

I only use it for shooting rats.

You was after hares.

We saw you.

Anyway, Stan knows this fellow
who's a gunsmith in civvy street.

- He'll fix it for you, won't he, Stan?
- Yeah, he'll put it right, yeah.

- But there's no need.
- But it's bloody lethal as it is.

Pretty, isn't she?

Eh?

It don't talk much, though.

She's saving her throat, isn't she?

Well, I'll get the gun.

Hello, Stan, we won a trick, old son.

Don't tell nobody,
but I think we won a trick.

Hey, come and see what I've got.

- Where have you been?
- Sorry I was so long.

But look what I found.

Yeah, that's nice.
Thick with berries.

I'm going to try and get
some gold paint.

What for?

For Christmas decorations.

Ooh, it's freezing.

- Is it going to snow?
- I hope so.

- Why?
- We'd get cut off, wouldn't we?

Hey, we can have a party.

I'm taking one of these
little tins of syrup too, please.

Could be in for a white Christmas,
by the look of it.

That'd be nice, wouldn't it?

I don't think it's sticking, though.
It's more sleet, really.

What about that?

Gold paint?
How long have you had this, then?

Here.

Pilchards!
I can't believe it.

Ooh, I never asked about
your sister's throat.

- Jill?
- Mmm.

- She's much better, thanks.
- Oh, good, I am glad.

So long as it doesn't settle
on her chest.

Oh, no, no.

When did the doctor say
she could get up, then?

Well, she is up, but she has to
stay in the warmth.

Oh yes, don't you let her out
at this time of year. No!

Cath.

Is that short for Catherine, or what?

Cathleen.

Oh.

Cath.

Yeah, it suits you.

And your sister, her name's, er...

Alice.

Oh, yeah.

Well, we're getting warmer now,
aren't we? Eh?

Bit of a tartar, your Alice,
isn't she?

It's her being the eldest.

Yeah, I know what you mean.

Chalk and cheese, though,
Cath, eh?

And I can't get enough cheese.

Hello, speak of the devil.
Here comes summer.

I was just saying,
"Here comes summer."

Oh, we kept the pot warm.

Blimey. "Mind our Cath's throat.
It's still bad," she says. Didn't you?

All right, I'll shut it.

Oh, by the way, I got you
a couple of pheasant. Your...

Your gun, my shooting.

Gun's beautiful now.

Pick a flea off a church steeple.

How about that, then, eh?

Bloody marvellous!

Didn't think about
the blackout, did you?

Still as charming as ever, eh?

Hello, then, what's in this?

- Leave that alone.
- Gold paint.

Quick-drying lacquer.

- What's in the bag?
- I've asked you to leave that alone!

All right, I'm only looking,
ain't I?

Acorns?

Oh, I get it.

Decorations, eh?

Well, then,
gotta see what we can do, eh?

Open the old honey-pot.

Have a little bit of a...

dippy-dippy-dippy-dippy, eh?

Here you are, Cath.
Gold earrings, for free.

You'll look lovely at the dance.
I'll do you another one.

What dance?

What dance?

Christmas Eve.

Dippy-dippy-dippy-dippy-dippy
in the old honey-pot,

goes the little old bee.
Buzzy-buzzy-buzzy, eh?

There you are, Cath.
Try 'em on.

Go on, don't worry about the paint.

Go on, girl.

Ooh, beautiful, eh?

What a lovely pair.

What a lovely pair.

Get out.

If you're not out of here
in two minutes,

I swear to God
I'll blow your bloody head off.

All right!

All right, I will.

But only out of respect
for your feelings, Mrs C.

Oh, by the way,
the gun's not loaded.

Well, Cath, me old darling.
Seems the party's over.

I'm sorry about that, but I'll have to
meet you seven-thirty, Christmas Eve.

- All right?
- She's not going.

- Who says so?
- I says so.

Oh.

Well, I'll be here seven-thirty
regardless, all right?

Seems our sister Alice
is a little jealous.

I can see why.

- Get out!
- All right!

All right, Mrs C.

All right.

- Seven-thirty, okay?
- Will you get out!

And you take your bloody pheasants
and hang yourself with them!

I forgot me old titfer.

Why did you call yourself Cath?

I've always called you
Jill in the village.

I panicked.
Had to say something.

Not that much.

Oh, all right, I didn't think
Jill suited me somehow.

Didn't suit you?
My God!

Look, if I've got to parade about
like a bloody woman,

then at least I ought to be able
to choose my own false name.

- Do you think I like it?
- You were thoroughly enjoying it.

- I had to play along.
- Not like that.

I'd better get your supper.
They kept me pilchards in the village

because I said Jill liked fish.

You've gone on too much
at that shop.

- I have to say something too, don't I?
- Yes, like I did.

You want potatoes?

- I don't want anything.
- Oh, don't be daft. You've got to eat.

Here. You don't do a hand's turn
these days. Open that.

I said I didn't want anything!

You don't want this,
you don't want that.

You not only look like a woman,
you're beginning to act like one.

You've got spoilt and choosy.

It was a joke.

I've always hated sergeants.
That's why I made up to this one.

- Not good enough for you, am I?
- I didn't say that.

- You said you'd go to that dance.
- For a laugh!

Okay, okay,
I won't go to the dance.

A woman's privilege, of course,
changing her mind.

- You cow!
- Get off me!

- You're going to apologise for that!
- You're hurting me.

I don't change my mind.
Now, you apologise!

You apologise.

Griffiths, get bleeding on with it!

You call that a shine?

- You call that a shine?
- First application, Corporal.

I'll applicate you, lad!
That ain't no shine!

It's an unwiped arse.

Shut the door, nig-nog.
Shut the door.

Got your kit okay?

Yeah. Had to have the
greatcoat taken in, didn't I?

- Slipped the tailor five bob.
- Slimline, eh?

It was a bloody great
bell-tent, wasn't it?

Bleeding monkey.

Did you hear
what that man said, Provo Corporal?

It was prejudicial!

24, 36, hup!

Guardroom, double!

Move it!
Move those bloody men!

Open that bloody door!

That's bread and water for
your Christmas dinner, innit, sonny?

It looks bloody marvellous, Stan.
Marvellous.

You ain't seen the half of it yet.
It's gonna be like the bloody Lyceum.

Don't look at me, nig-nog.
Polish the floor.

Take that thing out of here.

- Jugged hare. Lovely.
- Take it out.

What are you doing with that dress?
I didn't say you could wear it.

Get rid of that thing.
They're bad luck.

You're going to that dance.

- Get rid of it.
- Why don't you?

- I wouldn't even touch it.
- Are you stark raving bloody mad?

I thought you said
you weren't going?

I want some fun.
It's Christmas Eve.

Fun? You little fool.

- Don't you realise he'll...
- He'll what?

Well, you don't think he just wants
to dance with you, do you?

I'll get away with it.
I know I can.

He thinks you're a girl.

It'll be the Tank Corps tanked.

Oh, my God.

Do you want to serve time?

What do you think I'm doing here?

He's here.

Yes.

He said seven-thirty, didn't he?

Hello, there. Merry Christmas!

Hello?

Oi! It's snowing!

It's all right. It's me.

My transfer come through.
Just right for Christmas, eh?

How do you like it?

You're not ready.

I know.
Have a little totty, eh?

Genuine Scottish article.

I'm not going.

Why not?

Eh?

We got a lovely floor, and old Stan'll
sweep you away into dreamland.

He's dead skilful.

Come on, Alice,
get your glad rags on.

Don't use my name.

Why don't you ever unfreeze, eh?

Eh?

Ding dong merrily on high,
and all that Christmas.

Why don't you just go?

What, without my Cath?

She's my number one
pin-up, ain't you, Cath, girl?

Cor blimey.

Whohoo! What about that?

Hee hee hee,
what have we got here, eh?

Proper little darling.
Well done, Cath.

Cor!

Blimey!

What an armful!

You smell something gorgioso as well.

Here.

Your sister won't drink with me,
you drink with me, eh?

- Go on.
- You'll need a coat. It's pouring.

Not with this, she won't.

Touch of the old gallants here.

Me and my commandeered transport.

What more could a girl want?
Come on, darling, down the stairs.

There.

Drink up.

Go on, get it down.

All right.

Off we go, Cath.

See you later, Mrs C.
Don't stay up.

♪ Ding dong merrily on high

♪ And all the birds are singing ♪

♪ Ding dong merrily on high... ♪

You get up...

there.

Now then, here comes Ramsbottom.

Thinks I'm a bloody German.

You've got natural rhythm,
haven't you, Stan?

With you I have, Christine.

It's all right, you're doing fine.
Wiggle your hips, just relax.

Go with me.

That's right, just so
we move together, eh?

Just so we move together.

Cor blimey!

I've heard of blokes
treading on girls' feet,

but never the other way round,
Cath, eh?

I never could do the foxtrot.

Hello! What luck!
Look, how did we get here?

Cath, it's Christmas.

Good will to all men, eh?

- I...
- Or do you want a little drinkie?

Little drinkie for starters, eh?

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

And now, a complete
change of atmosphere.

The big moment, girls.
Lower the lights, please.

Watch it, lads.
It's a Ladies' Excuse Me.

Where you going, Cath?

- Where you going?
- To the ladies'.

Well, it's the wrong way, innit?
It's the wrong way.

It's too red, Merle!

Let's see.

Excuse me.

Looks like Dracula
caught in the act!

Oh, Christ.

See you later.

You're shivering. You cold?

- Here, have a drink of this.
- No.

Oh, don't tell me
it's the monthlies, Cath.

No, it's...

Go on, have a drink.

That's my girl.

Come on.

No, I want to dance.

Well, it's another foxtrot.

Come on, Cath. Come on.

Cor blimey!

Here we go.

Bleedin' hell!

Sorry about the interruption.
It's important clerical business.

Arthur?

Stanley!
Whoo-hoo-hoo!

You naughty old pickle!
Ha ha ha!

Sorry, mate. Two minds but with
a single thought, old son.

That's all right, Arthur.

Chris and me don't mind, do we?

Stan, take your hand
out of me knickers

when you're talking to your friend.

That's all right.
If they don't mind, neither do I.

Oh, er...
Cath don't like foxtrotting,

so it's a little bit
of the altogether, okay?

Yeah.

Not with the lights on.

I don't do nothing with the lights on.

How about moonlight? Eh?

Silvery moon? Nice.

Stanley, come here, son.

Go and stand by the old, er...
light switch.

All right.

- How about that, then, eh?
- Creepy, isn't it?

How about that?

Look, I've gone all goosepimply!

That's interrupted passion,
innit, Arthur?

That's right, my son.
That's right.

Four's company, eh?

Well, to touch of the
altogethers again!

Don't be frightened, darling.

It can't be your first time, eh?

Eh?

Oh, what lovely hair you've got.

Oh, what a lovely pair.

What a lovely pair.

- You mustn't.
- Come on.

Stan? There's no need to bother.
I put camiknickers on specially.

Good girl.
Thoughtful. Very thoughtful of you.

- Just relax, eh? Just relax.
- Please, Arthur...

Come on,
don't be so bloody stupid.

Listen to Chris.
She knows what it's for, don't she?

- No!
- Why are you so coy?

You're worse than your bloody sister.

Having trouble with yours, Arthur?

Nah, she just needs a little
breaking in. Don't you, darling?

Mine's like liquid velvet.

No!

So you was cheating,
was you?

Was you cheating to me, Cath?
Was you?

Was you cheating? Was you?

Well, I didn't come to all this bother
just for a fucking peck on the cheek.

Did I, eh? Eh, Cath?

Now then...

you just relax, my love, eh?

Let your old Uncle Arthur
have a little grope, eh?

Eh?

Let him have a little grope
with the old titties, eh?

That can't be too bad, can it, eh?

Have a little feel
of your bum, too, eh?

A little feel of your bum, eh?

Oh... oh... Stan!

Stan!

You get away from me!

Arthur? What's going on?

I'll tear his bloody bollocks off!

Arthur?

- Stan?
- Shut up. Arthur?

Stan, just a minute!

- Hello.
- Pl... please...

I've got to go home.

That's all right, dear.
We let the ladies out.

Someone got fresh?

- Did you let him through?
- Him?

Never mind.
Raise the barrier, will you?

I don't wanna
go chasing no pervert.

- Come on, come on!
- We'll miss the last waltz, Stan!

We'll never find him.

- Get out.
- Well, I only said that we...

Get out!

- Stan!
- Bog off!

You rotten bastards!

Oh, God!

Maybe we ought to
get this organised, Sarge.

Yeah.

Check first.

Verify.

Right.

Hmm! Right!

We'll make this official, eh?

Left, left, right, left.
Left, left, right, left.

Squad, halt!

Turn to your right,
and fall out in front.

Fall... out!

We can bring him in now, sir.

It's annoying at Christmas,
but try not to be too rough.

- Sah!
- Good luck.

Come on, get these boots on.

I don't want to go any more.

Well, you've got to.

Come on.
You hide up by that old plane.

Come on.
Nobody'll find you there.

Then, when they've gone,
I'll come and get you, all right?

- Yeah.
- Yeah?

Sit down, and I'll
get these boots on.

Right, come on, get out!
Move your bloody selves!

Corporal Thompson, bring 'em here!

Get these men round
the back of the woods

This farm's down there.
Move!

All right, let's piss off.

I'll not let you down. Never.

Go on.

Right, get in the yard, Arnott.
Corporal, come with me.

816973 Barton, JL.
Private, the Royal Artillery.

Absent without leave since
the 14th of April last.

You know I live here with my sister.
Where is she?

There's no sister. Only Barton.

You've been hiding him here
for the last seven months.

I'm here to do my duty,
Mrs Charlesworth.

Barton's been sighted down the hill,
Sergeant, Corporal.

Go ahead, Corporal!

And your husband a prisoner of war
with the Japs.

God help us.

Stay here and
watch that woman, Corporal.

Sarge.

Chuck him down here to me!

The bastard.

One... two... three...

Go!

Did you hurt yourself, soldier?

I think he hurt hisself!

What did you do, eh? Eh?

Get in, soldier.

He hurt hisself, Corporal!

Look out!

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