All language subtitles for Confirm or Deny 1941

Miss Harding, please.

Yes, Mr. Stuyvesant?

Oh, cable Van Dyke. New York office.

In reference to our getting leased wire

direct to cable station at Penzance,
beg to report

the only one available belongs
to Sir Titus Scott

of the Penzance Chronicle.

And he will not part with it

for all the gold at Fort Knox, Kentucky.

Have taken the matter up
with the Prime Minister.

And he assures me,

nothing can be done.

Prior to that, I took it up
with all the cabinet –

Uh –

Prior to that,
I took it up with all the

cabinet ministers.

Each of whom, I know personally,.

With no result.

Had luncheon last week
with Mr. Duffield

of the Ministry of Information.

And he said –

Leased wire –

out of the question!

I flatter myself that I have a greater
acquaintanceship in official circles

than any other American in London.

And if I can't get a direct leased wire
to Penzance, it means –

nobody can.

That will be all, Miss Harding.

Shall I have this boiled down?

Certainly not.

Do not change a word.
Not a single word.

Johnny's lead is buried
in the middle of that story.

Play it up, will you?

Johnny, tell Jeff to get Dover.

And check on the report they're
shelling Conway off the coast, will ya?

- Red.
- Yes?

Put on Sir Titus.

Sir Titus is not
at the Savoy, Mr. Mitchell.

There are bound to be
somewhere in this town.

Very good, sir.
I'll try the daughter, sir.

Thank you, Albert.

Will you have your tea, Jeff?

Thanks. Thank you, my boy.

That was an aeroplane. Wasn't it, Jeff?

I know.

That's a Bofors. Swedish gun.

That's an Oerlikon now, Albert

Thanks. Thank you.

Yeah.

Yeah.

Look. Never mind
those channel dogfights.

There's no more room in my wastebasket.

What I want is stuff about those barges

Hitler's putting
on the assembly line at Calais.

Yeah, but how do I get over?

Swim over! Gertrude Ederle did it.
It's only 20 miles.

Hello, Red.

The Minister of Information.

I know that. What do you got?

- Casualty list.
- Let's have it.

Thanks a lot.

Ohh.

Like some more tea, Miss Harding?

Yes, please, Albert.

Mr. Stanton wants this
to go out in the night wire.

Thanks.

No details they're offering.

Thanks.

He'd much –

- Red?
- Yes, sir.

What about Sir Titus?

- I'm trying to locate him.
- Try the Falcon.

Falcon? I'm trying to locate
Sir Titus Scott.

Hello, Mr. Bindle.

Hello, Albert.

Still achy, I see.

Here you are.

And there you are.

24 hours a day.

Seven days a week.

I set on my blooming seat,

waiting for a couple of stinking pigeons

what never comes.
And what never will come.

Mr. Bindle, listen.

If Mitch Mitchell says the pigeons
will come, the pigeons will come.

Sure as anything.

Suppose they do come. Then what?

I don't know. Nobody knows.

Not even Mr. Stuyvesant.

But Mr. Mitchell told me once

that you had
the most important post on the staff.

Ahh.

Except me.

You?

I have a runny-er assignment
than you have.

You watch.

But me? I listen.

Listen?

On the radio.

What do you listen to?

That's the queer part of it, Mr. Bindle.

I only have to tune in once a day.

Five o'clock.

For the News Roundup.

I only have to get one broadcast.

Hagerty. ABC Berlin.

And I only have to get one line.

One line?

That's all. The first line.

If he says "this is Hagerty speaking
from Berlin," it doesn't matter.

If he says "this is Hagerty calling,
broadcasting or coming in from Berlin,"

that doesn't matter either.

But if he says "this is Mr. Hagerty
REPORTING from Berlin" –

Yes?

Then it doesn't matter.

Then I have to find
Mr. Mitchell wherever he is.

Dead or alive. Drunk or sober.
And let him know.

Them's my orders.

Word for word if the pigeons come.

And I've been watching here for weeks.

I've been listening for weeks.

You asked me, I think
this Mitchell's a bit on the balmy side.

Oh, no, Mr. Bindle.

He knows what he's about.

One fine day I'll tune in and I'll hear

"this is Hagerty reporting."

And one fine day, you'll –

Mr. Bindle, look!

Eh?

Oh, there you are.

Many are called. But few is chosen.

What time is it, Mr. Bindle?

Oh, I don't know.

I'm so sick of being anything.

Five to five.

Five to five?
That's time for Hagerty!

Bid you good afternoon, Mr. Bindle.

Thumbs up.

Thumbs up.

Consolidated Press.

Hold the line, please.

Mr. Mitchell, New York calling.

Put him on. Put him on.

Hello? Hello?

Hello, Van. How are you?

What's happened to
the phone service over there?

I put in this call six hours ago.

How did the Giants make out today?

They won. What about those barges?

We get a tip from Sophia from Belgrade

Hitler's were preparing
to leave Bergneustadt.

They say he's either going to go
to Turkey for an attack on the Suez.

To Spain for a raid on Gibraltar.

Or to France for the invasion.

Hut – hello?

- Hello? Red?
- Yes, sir?

Hello, Red.

Red, the next time Van Dyke calls, tell
him not to mention the word "invasion."

It's verboten.

- What about Sir Titus?
- I can't –

Try his office again.

Consolidated Press calling.

Has Sir Titus returned yet?

Thank you.

Do you find you're lonely without Daisy?

No but – that's an idea.

Never mind the censors.
I'll take care of that.

Yeah?

Mr. Wilkins. Did you want me?

Yeah, no look, Wilkins.

I've had a belly full
of that balloon busting stuff.

What I want is barges. Barges!

Well, how am I going to get over there?

Don't lay on a blood heim.

Get yourself a fishing slack.

Get on the subway.

I don't care how you get there.
But get there!

Yeah?

Mr. Mitchell.

I located Sir Titus.

- Where?
- At the Colonial Club.

Swell!

Takeover, Johnny, will you?

Each day at this time,

the BBC calls in its correspondents

from all parts of the world

for the latest news of the war.

We will hear first from
our correspondent in Berlin, Germany.

New York calling Berlin.

Come in, Berlin.

Good afternoon.

This is Hagerty reporting from Berlin.

Following a conference today

between Russian Ambassador Decanonof
and Foreign Minister von Ribbentrop…

Albert, where you going?

To the Colonial Club.

Look, Titus. You're a newspaperman.

You know what I'm driving at.

Young man.

My family's published the
Chronicle in Penzance since 1842.

Yeah, I know that, sir. I know that.

We've had a leased wire

ever since Samuel F. B. Morse
perfected the telegraph.

I know that too, sir.

I'll never sell that wire
as long as I live.

Mr. Titus, you don't understand.

The Northern cable's cut.
The Eastern cable's cut.

The Baltic's cut.

All the stuff they used to
go overland into Europe

down to the Mediterranean

must now go via the United States,

overloading the cables.

The wire from London to Penzance
is swamped

with tons of official,
commercial and press dispatches.

It's a bottleneck that's keeping
90 million readers

of a thousand newspapers
from getting news.

But if we had a direct wire
to Penzance –

Good night.

Sir Titus –

Good night.

Why, Albert. What are you doing here?

You told me to find you.

Dead or alive. Drunk or sober.

- Hagerty?
- Hagerty.

- Reporting?
- Reporting.

Are you sure?

Yes, sir. Any orders?

Yeah. Tell Ben to be on the extra alert.

Right-o.

Now, look,. Sir Titus.

I'm not asking you to sell us a wire.

I'm just asking you to lease it
to us for one year.

No. No.

Dash it all. Don't you understand
the meaning of the word "no"?

Not when I am prepared to offer you
a thousand pounds cash, Sir Titus.

You're wasting your breath.

The government's likely to take over
your line anyway for Signal Corps.

But if you transfer it to us first –

Good night to you.

All right. Let's say six months.

One thousand pounds for use
of your leased wire for six months.

Good night.

Sir Titus.

Think of this in terms of patriotism.

Awesome eyewash.

The Chronicle has a circulation
of just a few thousand copies.

The CP serves one thousand newspapers

with 90 million readers.

For six months!

I'm not going to disorganize
my newspaper for six months.

- Not for –
- Three months!

No no no.

Two months

No no.

- One month.
- NO!

Are you offering me
a thousand pounds for one month?

Is it a deal?

No.

All right then. Two weeks.

One week.

Are you crazy?

Not as crazy as you are, sir,
if you turn down that offer.

Do I understand that you are
offering me a thousand pounds

for the use of my leased wire
for one week?

Precisely. One week. Cash in advance.

That's my last offer.

Very well, Sir Titus. Good night.

Come back here.

Romanoff.

See this man gets an alcohol rub.

I don't want him to die of pneumonia.

Yes, Sir Titus.

Don't you know that's not allowed?

I'm terribly sorry. I beg your pardon.

Fool.

I'm sorry about that match.

I assure you I meant
no aid to the enemy.

Why did you light it then?

I wasn't thinking.

Or rather, I was thinking
of something else.

I was thinking about how to celebrate.

Celebrate? What's there to celebrate?

I found a way to save 40 minutes a day.

Fancy that.

You're an American, aren't you?

How'd you know?

Americans waste all their time
trying to save time.

And when they do save it,
they don't know what to do with it.

Aw, a whole lot happening in 40 minutes.

Not really.

For instance, I can get you a taxi.

No, thanks. I like to walk.

So do I.

May I see you home?

I have no home.

You have no home?

We were bombed out this afternoon.

Oh, what a shame.

If I can be of any service to you –

I'm staying with my grand mother.

Oh, I like to meet her.

- My grandmother?
- Yes.

- Why?
- Oh, I love grandmothers.

I have two of my own
back in the states.

They run a little tea room.

Uh, tell me. Will you have
a spot of tea with me?

Are you in the habit of picking up
girls in a blackout?

Well, how can you say such a thing?

How can you even think such a thing?

Are you trying to tell me you're
not trying to pick me up?

Why, no. Of course not. Wait, uh –

You don't understand.

You walk out in the blackness.

Utter blackness.

A match glares up. A hand comes in.

And you hear a voice.

- Good night.
- Nuh-uh. Wait.

- Don't you see what I mean?
- Quite.

There are millions of people in London.
Men and women.

And out of all those millions,

two people meet like ships
that pass in the night.

Don't you see? It's the mystery of it.

Aren't you taking an awful chance
when you can't even see me?

I've seen you all my life.

The turned-up nose.

The small but determined chin.

Kind of a large mouth.

Blonde hair, I hope.

Of course, that's not crucial.

I'm not – I'm not sure about
the color of your eyes.

Oh, uh – may I carry your bag?

You may.

Oh, I'm so sorry.

What's wrong? Have you a cold?

No, uh – that perfume you're wearing?
What is it?

Christmas Eve.

Oh, it's lovely.

From now on,
that's my favorite perfume.

Curfew.

Say, uh –

You don't suppose my match
caused that, do you?

Come on, Yank.

We better make for the nearest tube.

Hey, Red. Wait a minute.

Wait a minute. I got your the valise.

Merry Christmas.

The same to you.

Bless all those Sergeants and W.O. Ones.

Bless all those Corporals
and their blinkin' sons.

For we're saying goodbye to 'em all.

And back to their Billets they crawl.

You'll get no promotion
this side of the ocean.

So cheer up, my lads, bless 'em all!

Bless 'em all! Bless 'em all!

The long and the short and the tall.

Bless all those Sergeants and W.O. Ones.

Bless all those Corporals
and their blinkin' sons.

For we're saying goodbye to 'em all.

And back to their Billets they crawl.

You'll get no promotion
this side of the ocean.

So cheer up, my lads, bless 'em all!

Bless 'em all! Bless 'em all!

The long and the short and the tall!

Quiet.

Please.

It was pretty close.

I imagine we won't get
the all clear for hours.

Probably have to spend the night here.

Say, Red.

Why do you keep on calling me Red?

I had an Irish setter once named Red.

The most beautiful dog in the world.
Died of distemper.

What's that got to do with me?

I love that dog very dearly.

Now whenever I meet anyone I take
a shine to, I always call them Red.

Well, don't call me Red.

No? What shall I call you?

My name's Carson.

Is that your first name?

- No.
- What is your first name?

Jennifer.

Jennifer?

Are you kidding?

No. Jennifer.

Jennifer? Red?

I like Red better.

All right then, Red.

Thanks very much.

Red, she's crazy about me!

Look, baby.

There is room here for all of us.
Don't you think?

That's it.

Say, Red. I want to talk to you.

If you don't mind,
I want to go to bed.

Say, Red.

Oh, please. Let me sleep.

You don't work the floor show
over at the Savoy, do you?

By any chance, do you
manage at the Dorchester's?

No.

Could it be you're the barmaid
over at SoHo?

Am I warm?

You're cold. And I'm tired.

Doggone it.
Where have I seen you before?

Say, Red.

Mmm-hmm.

Are you by any chance
a chambermaid at the Regency?

Do I look like a chambermaid? Really!

What's wrong with a chambermaid?

When I left school,
got myself engaged to one.

Did you marry her?

No.

Why didn't you?

And that waitress. A most unusual girl.
Her name was society's.

I'm not interested in your love life.
Go to sleep.

How do I find out
where I've seen you before?

What difference does it make?

If I find out
where I've seen you before,

then I'll know
where I can see you again.

That's an idea.

If I knew where you worked?

All right.
I work at the Ministry of Information.

Oh, so. That's it!

That's where I've seen you before.

What do you do there?

I operate a teletype machine.

I get four quid a week.

My mother and father live in Winchelsea.

I have no brothers or sisters.

I'm married. I have four children.
One's an albino.

I've studied in the United States.

And I'm terribly sleepy.

What a war.

Worst blitz yet!

Read all about it.

Read all about it.

Hi, there.

Read all about it.

Hi, there.

Read all about it.

Morning, Johnny.

Morning, Mitch.

Somebody sneezed, huh?

It was like this when
we got here this morning.

Everybody all right?

Except Mr. Bindle.

What happened?

He was the only one on duty
when the bomb fell.

And?

They tell us at the hospital
he'll be out in a week or so.

Oh, that's fine.

What about those teletype machines?

Smashed to smithereens.

Daisy, what about the phones?

They're all out, Mr. Mitchell.

All out of business?

Not for long.

- Mr. Mitchell?
- Yeah.

Could you find someone
to take my place at once?

Why?

My family's unsuited.

Stick around, Red.

I'm sorry, Red.

Okay. And good luck to you.

Thank you.

Johnny, get a truck!

The biggest truck you can find.

Chief, about that leased wire
to Penzance –

Well, what sort of a man
are you, Mitchell?

Here we are. Bombed out. Crippled.
Our teletype smashed.

A man injured!

And all you can think about is –

We are still in business, aren't we?

And with a leased wire,
we can beat out –

It's no use talking about that now.

I wired New York yesterday.
It couldn't be done!

Well, it is done.

- I made a deal last night.
- YOU WHAT?

I made a deal with Sir Titus.

Come now. That's out of the question.

Sir Titus told me
he wouldn't sell at any price.

He gave me his word.

He kept his word. He didn't sell it.
He only rented it

Rented it? For how long?

A week. For a thousand pounds cash.

This is no time for joking, Mitchell.

A thousand pounds cash is no joke.
And anyway –

You had no right to make just any sort
of deal without consulting me.

Well, I'm consulting you right now.

The tongue of the whole cockeyed world

is hanging out for just one story.

The invasion of England.

And when that story breaks, the guy
with leased wire has a 40 minute edge.

Do you realize what that means?

It means that our papers
will be on the streets

almost an hour ahead of anyone else's

with the greatest beat in the world.!

I know. But confound it, man.
A week. One week!

When it everybody knows it'll be months

before the Germans even
make an attempt to invade.

That's what you say.

That's what Berlin says.

That's what they want us to think.

That's the best strategy in the world.

Ballywho to the big show for spring.

And then pull it in the fall!

Yesterday, Hitler left Bergneustadt.
Destination unknown.

This morning, I walked all over London.

It's almost another Rotterdam.

I'm gambling
a thousand pounds of CP money

that last night was the overture.

Rubbish! One week?

And what good is a leased wire when
we haven't even got an office?

Will have an office
before the day is over.

Oh, and, uh –

By the way, chief, you
better get over to the bank

and put some money in my account.

Money? Me?

Yes, I gave Sir Titus a check
for a thousand pounds.

And it's gonna bounce.

You WHAT?

That's what I said. It's no good.

I happen to have
30 odd quid in the bank.

So you better get over there
with the money.

Sir Titus is Scotch. Very Scotch.

So I'd advise you to be there
when the bank opens.

Thanks a lot, chief.

Johnny, did you get that truck?

It's on its way.

That's fine. As soon as it gets here,
load everything you can on to it.

We're moving.

- Where to?
- Don't worry. I'll let you know.

Daisy, I'll be in Duffield's office.
Ministry of Information.

- Mr. Mitchell?
- Yeah.

Did I hear you say you're going to move?

That's right.

We can take along
the pigeon coops, can't we?

Why, is there anything left of them?

Yes, sir. They's quite safe.

So's the shack. I just come from there.

Oh, that's good. Johnny!

- Johnny.
- Yes, sir.

We gotta do something
about those pigeons.

There's gotta be somebody
up there to watch.

Mr. Mitchell, let me watch.

No. No, Albert.

But I watch as well as anybody.

Yeah, I'm sure you would, Albert.

But your, uh, too valuable a man.

We've got other work for you to do.

But not as important as this.

Please, Mr. Mitchell.

Just until Mr. Bindle gets back.

Okay, son.

Carry on, Albert Perkins.

And make the foes of England
sorry that you were ever born.

Yes, sir.

Hello, Mitch.

How are you?

How are you today, Mr. Mitchell?

Just fine, thank you, Mr. Duffield.

No I won't take a bit of your time.

Pardon me. That's Paris.

Yes?

Well, it's for you!

- Hello?
- Thank you.

Yeah?

Yeah, Johnny.

That's fine.

Get them started.

I'll let you know before
they finish loading.

We were bombed out. No offices.

- C'est la guerre.
- Yes. Say la mouthful.

But there is
a bit of a silver lining to that.

Yesterday we had an office
but no leased wire.

Today we have a leased wire
but no office.

Leased wire?
You mean to tell me that Sir Titus –

Signed, sealed –

- It's probably for me.
- Yes, sir. You bet.

Yes?

It's for you!

Thank you.

Yeah?

Why, that's fine, Mr. Stuyvesant.
And paid for.

Yeah?

Thank you very much.
I'll see you later.

Mr. Duffield, this leased wire
has cost us a lot of money.

We're going to save 40 minutes
on any big stuff that breaks.

And I've got a hunch
it's cracked already.

Now I can save another 20 minutes

if you can send a sub-censor
direct to our office.

You said just now that
you didn't have an office.

Oh, that's a mere detail.
Now before you say no, Mr. Duffield.

Now you look here, Mr. Mitchell –

Thank you very much.

Now there is one other little thing.

Our teletype machines been wracked.

And I've got to dig one up somewhere.

Well now –

Now all the loose teletype machines
are right here in this office.

And I know you can spare one.

I think that –

Thank you. Thank you very much.

You saved my life.
Good day to you, sir.

Mr. Duffield, it's stupid of me
not to remember.

But that machine is worthless to me
without a teletype operator.

Now you've got a girl in this office
by the name of Carson.

There's one thing I like
about you, Mr. Mitchell.

You never ask for anything.

I could save another 10 minutes
if I had Carson.

You can have Miss Carson.

Thank you very much.

Tell her to report
to what's left of my office.

Good day, sir.

Yes?

No, I'm sorry. He's just left.

What are they, Jeff?

Spitfires, sir.

All right, here. Let's go.

Come on, boys.
Help Jeff up here, will you?

Why, hello, Red!

Round two.

Well, hello.

What do you mean by following me around?

Me?

Do you make it a habit of going around
picking up then after air raids?

Just a minute. I'm looking for
Mr. Mitchell of the Consolidated Press.

Well, you can call me Mitch.

Are you him?

That's ungrammatical but true.

How's it going, Johnny?

Got everything but Stuyvesant's office.

Aw. Leave that.
We gotta have some room for the men.

All right, boys. Come on.
Everybody. Let's go!

All aboard!

Wait a minute.

No time to talk now.
Come on. Let's go.

Well, Red. We're in Row A.
Center of the orchestra.

With, lose or draw. You have something
to tell your grandchildren.

Hello. Regency Hotel.

Regency Hotel.

Regency Hotel.

You're not the experienced hotel man I left.

He was superior.

Kingfield!

Fool! Idiot!

I'm sorry, sir. But Mr. Mitchell said –

I don't care what he said!

- But I thought –
- You're not paid to think.

Ministry of Information, Mr. Mitchell.

Yeah?

Consolidated Press calling Duffield.

Johnny, what –
uh, hello, Mitchell talking.

How are you, Mr. Duffield?

I'm just fine, thanks.

Moving into
our new office right this minute.

Yeah. From now on, our address is
the wine cellar of the Regency Hotel.

Yes, I have Miss Carson right here
waiting for the teletype.

What about the sub-censor, Mr. Duffield?

That's fine. Thanks a lot.

Oh, hello, Mr. Hobbs. How are you?

Just the man I want to see!

Mr. Mitchell, I demand an explanation.

Excuse me, just a minute. Johnny!

What about the teletype people?
Did you mention Mr. Duffield's name?

I did. The installation squad is
on the way down.

Fine. Fine.

Mr. Hobbs. Can I get a blueprint
of the substrata right away?

I gotta find a way to punch in our line.

- Punch in your line?
- Yes.

What's the meaning of this?

Due to circumstances beyond our control,
we've been forced to –

Look out! Look out!

We've been forced to move our HQ
into the wine cellar for a while.

You can't barge in here like this.

Mr. Hobbs, you'll thank me for it.

Thank you?

Mr. Hobbs.

Come here. Just a minute, will you?

Mr. Hobbs.

This is strictly off the record.

I got a right from the top.

The Air Raid Protection's
taken over underground

every hotel in London

for emergency public air raid shelters.

- You didn't know that, did you?
- No.

ARP would've commandeered
your wine cellar before morning

if we hadn't moved in.

You would've had to
take care of scores of people.

Not only that, but feed them.

Besides, think of the break it is

for the Regency Hotel
to have the CP headquarters

right here in this hotel.

Think of that!

One thousand newspapers.
90 million readers.

Why that's worth £1 million sterling
in publicity alone.

- Can you deny that?
- No, I –

When an organization like the CP

selects your wine cellar
for its headquarters,

do you know what that shows?

It shows you have a safe hotel.

Why the whole world will know

that you have the only steel-constructed
hotel in the city of London.

Man, can't you see that?

Yes, I can.

Why, Mr. Hobbs,
I am pained and surprised.

The only reason I picked
this hotel is because I live here.

I have half a mind to make a deal
with the Savoy or Dorchester.

Or any other hotel –

Red, get me the Savoy.

Red, cancel that call!

Cancel the call.

Believe me, Mr. Mitchell.

When I was suddenly informed
that you are moving in here,

I had no idea or inkling
what the situation was.

Mr. Mitchell, this is the best
protected wine cellar in London.

And of course if our waiters
won't interfere with you –

you know, coming in –

Aw, no.
We'll get around that, all right.

- Mr. Mitchell?
- Yeah?

We're from the Ministry of Information
with the teletype.

Swell! Put it right in there, boys.

Some of us are
going to have to sleep here.

So we're gonna need
about a dozen cots.

Gotta have some drop lights.
And a few more phones.

- Oh, Mr. Mitchell.
- That's me!

We're from the telegraph company.

Just the man I want to see!

Come on in here. This is Mr. Hobbs.

He's got a set of blueprints upstairs

showing exactly where the conduits are.

Any other information you want,
he'll be glad to give to you.

Yes, sir.

Get it done as good as you can, boys.
Thanks, Mr. Hobbs. See you later.

Honey! Johnny!

Coming, mate.

Johnny, I gotta have a special telephone

connected up to the roof
of the old building.

So we can keep in touch
with those pigeons.

Straight away.

Johnny, get this teletype machine
working the very first thing.

We're at it.

Daisy, get Collins.
And tell him where we are.

Yes, sir.

How's about something to eat, Red?

Fine. Where?

Never mind about that.

Fix your tie, will you?

Well, Jeff, how we doing?

Seem to be getting in deeper, sir.

Jeff.

No puns.

Right. All right, sir.

All right. Let's go.

Oh, say, Johnny. I forgot to tell Hobbs.

We gotta have some food
for the boys down here, will you?

Get a lot of hot coffee too.

I got a hunch it's gonna be a big night.

Yes, sir.

- Yank?
- Yeah.

If I had a hat, I take it off to you.

You would?

Red?

Yes?

You grow on me.

- I do?
- Mmm-hmm.

Come on. This way.

Where are we going?

To my room.

Well, what do –

Oh.

Ohhh – no love scene.

No love scenes.

It's still big but it's home.

Are we having dinner up here?

No. No. They're gonna eat downstairs.

Oh, I've nothing to wear.

Oh, just leave that to me.

Any special kind of an outfit you like?

A clean one.

A good idea.

About a size 12, huh?

Right.

Now I think the first order of the day
would be a slight drink.

Good.

Ladies first. First door to your left.
Right in there.

Yes. Don't forget
to wash behind the ears.

I'll be back before they dry.

Oh, Red.

Oh, Red!

Red?

My, how you've changed, Red!

Or have you?

Red?

Don't say it, you brute you.

Gigolo! I know
just what your excuse is.

You gonna try to tell me

you broke the appointment last night

because you were caught in an air raid.

I suppose we can…

Hello, Red!

– And he orders an air raid just
to prevent you from keeping it.

Suppose you was too busy this morning

to explain or apologize.

A decent man would...

For a busy man, you get around
quite a lot, don't you?

Oh, no. You got me all wrong, Red.

I'm strictly a one-woman man.

One at a time, you mean.

Nuh-uh. One and only.

The trouble is finding her.

Naturally you got to shop around
till you get the right article.

On approval?

Yeah. Sort of.

You know, Red, you look awfully nice.

Thank you.

The more I see you,
the better I like you.

Shall we have dinner here –
upstairs – do you think?

No, we'll have dinner here
– downstairs – I think.

Hmm.

I think so.

Such miserable lying.

Your laughable cheating.

Wrong number.

Sidney.

Blooming blitzkrieg.

Say, Red.

What?

You realize
this is our 24th anniversary?

- Twenty-four?
- Sure.

Just 24 hours ago we met.

In the dark, I couldn't
see what you look like.

So I had to use my imagination.

When I saw you, you look just
exactly as I had imagined you.

- Did I really?
- Mmm-hmm.

Even the turned-up nose.

Who's that?

Who's what?

That woman over there
hiding behind her hair?

Do you know her?

She seems like somebody on a slab.

Mmm-hmm.

Why does she keep staring
at me in that peculiar way?

Uh, you're wearing her dress.

Hello, Mr. Mitchell.

Good morning, Albert.

How are you?

Very well, sir.

Another day, another raid, huh?

Yes, sir.

Everything under control?

It seems to be, sir.

Now, that's fine.

I wish those pigeons would hurry up
and get here, Mr. Mitchell.

Oh, now don't get impatient, son.

Noah had to wait a long time for pigeon.

But it finally came.

I'll be here, waiting for mine, sir.

That a boy.

I'll call you later.

Good morning, Jeff.

Good morning, sir.

Java?

Don't mind if I do, sir.

All right.

How'd you sleep last night?

Not very well.

It's too blooming quiet down here, sir.

Yes, it is.

Here you are, Jeff.

Thank you, sir.

Say, Jeff. I always wanted to ask you.

What did you get that VC for?

In the last war, sir. It doesn't –

Jerrys had a strategic hill
on the Western front.

It was only
about the size of a pimple, sir.

But we wanted it.

I was in a machine gun detachment, sir.

I happen to get there first.

The others came along.

A land mine went off.

I was the only survivor.

All I lost was my eyes, sir.

Hmm.

Now I suppose the Jerrys
have that hill back, huh?

Yes. But they aren't
going to keep it, sir.

Hmm.

Round three, Red.

Did it ever snow, Mitch?

Just a little. Nothing much.

Got a cigarette?

Sure.

You haven't been to bed, have you?

Yeah. A few hours ago.

I couldn't sleep very well.

Too much coffee, I guess.

I had the craziest dream.

Dream? Aren't you on a story?

I never dream about business.

I dreamed about you and your husband.

My husband?

The one you told me about in the tube.

And your four children.

I only made that up so you let me sleep.

I know that.
But I dreamed about it just the same.

What was the dream like?

Well.

I dreamed you were gone.

There was nobody here
to work the teletype.

So I went all over London
looking for you.

Streets were blacked out.
And I couldn't see anything.

So I made a tour
of all the air raid shelters.

And finally I found you in one of them.

And your husband.
And your four children.

Really? I sent one to America.
Don't you remember?

Oh, yeah. The albino was there too.

That's funny.

Or there was something funnier still.
Your husband.

What was funny about my husband?

Well, he was me.

What happened?

Abo graba.

Oh.

What do you suppose that means?

Balmy.

That must have some significance.

What sort of children did I have?

Oh, swell. They all looked like you.

Except the albino. He looked like me.

Completely balmy.

I'm going to look it up in Freud.
See what it means.

What time is it?

Time to go to work.

Lazy. Come on. Up and at 'em. Let's go.

Come on, boys.

Come on, fellows.

Fellows, come on. Up and at 'em.

Let's go. Come on.

Come on. Gotta get things rolling here.

Minister of Information.

Press release send down.

Put them right there.

Daisy, get the Minister of Information.

Find out what the devil happened

to that confounded censor
Duffield promised me.

- Are you Mr. Mitchell?
- Yeah.

Well, I'm the confounded censor.

I'm awfully glad to meet you.
And awfully glad you're here.

My names Channing.
Capt. Lionel Channing.

Here's your desk right here, Captain.

- Did you bring your stamp with you?
- I did.

There's the ink pad. The paste.
The blue pencil. The scissors.

Give us that story on top.
That one goes out first.

Get set, Red, we;Re going to work now.

More copy, Captain.

Mr. Mitchell.

Where did you get this story about
Hitler secretly leaving Bergneustadt?

I didn't get it
from the Ministry of Information.

Are you killing that for?

Censored!

Why?

Because military information I couldn't
possibly allow you to release.

But if I know it, certainly
the British intelligence knows it.

Very likely.

Well, then, why can't I send it?

Perhaps, Mr. Mitchell,
the British intelligence

doesn't want the German intelligence

to know that
the British intelligence knows.

If you don't mind my saying so,

this war isn't being fought

for the particular benefit
of the Consolidated Press.

If this keeps up,
I'll find a way to be my own censor.

If I have to slip the mug a Mickey.

What's a Mickey?

It's a fin with brass knuckles.

Hobbs, what is this?

Mr. Mitchell, it's just
as you told me yesterday.

The government's taking over all
the available places in the emergency.

This is the only place I can
put these people up in!

Okay. Put them up.
The more, the merrier.

Taking quite a shellacking
out there, huh?

Worse yet, Sir.

Well.

Albert. Any pigeons yet?

No, sir.

No pigeons. But everything else.

It's raining ack-ack spray.

I got it.

Well, Captain This is one thing
you can't blue pencil.

This is official.

- Sent to New York, Red?
- All set.

Take this. Van Dyke, New York.

For the second time in 24 hours,
CP offices struck by bombs.

Fortunately, second bomb –

which crashed through ceiling
of CP office Regency wine cellar –

was dud.

No casualties.

CP is still in business. More later.

- Oh, Mr. Mitchell.
- Yeah?

The demolition squad is on its way here
to remove the bomb.

That's fine.

Yeah, but I have bad news for you.

What's that?

You see, there's no way we can brace
that ceiling before tomorrow.

So I'm ordering everybody
out of this cellar.

Just a minute.

Come here, Hobbs.

I am disappointed in you, Hobbs.

- In me, sir?
- Yes.

You've let me down.

And I never expected that of you.

But I don't understand this.

This is no time to say
a thing can't be done.

This is a time in the history of England

when no one can shirk a duty
or avoid a responsibility.

I realize that serve but –

you're asking the impossible.

Now look here, Hobbs.

Now listen to me.

I just sent out a story
giving this hotel

the greatest break in its life.

I mentioned the Regency three times.

But if you keep on talking like that,

I can kill that story
just as quick as I sent it.

In and tell 90 million people what
a flimsy matchbox this hotel is.

But what can I do, Mr. Mitchell?

Get that ceiling brace before
the demolition squad gets here.

Well, I'll do the best I can, sir.

Then hop to it.

Telephone, Mr. Mitchell.

Take it here at Channing's desk.

Yeah?

Are you by any chance acquainted
with the Channings of Shetland?

- My uncle.
- Yeah, go on.

Well, I believe I met your uncle once.

At the East End-Harrow match.

You don't tell me?

No, it was at Wimbledon
I think last season.

Or was it?

Yeah?

Well, who – who owns this?

That's all I wanted to know.

Well, Captain.

Would it interest you to know

there's not one English plane
in the sky over London?

Really?

You know that just as well as I do.

That Jerrys had the skies
to themselves all morning.

Where's the RAF?

Have they been blasted out of the skies?

That's a question
for the Air Ministry to answer.

If they care to answer.

What's going on?

You think you can stop the Jerrys
with antiaircraft alone?

That doesn't add up.

Mr. Mitchell, you happen to have
a ringside seat.

But civilians aren't expected
to criticize military operations.

I'm not a civilian. I'm a reporter.

And I'm not criticizing.

I'm just
reading the handwriting on the wall.

What are you driving at?

Invasion. That's what I'm driving at.

That's what the Germans are driving at.

You're entitled to your opinion.

That's not an opinion. That's a fact.

You know it. And I know it.

And 90 million readers
are gonna know it.

And they're gonna wonder
what's happened to the RAF?

And I'm the guy who's gonna tell them.

I'm afraid I can't allow you
to question any decision I make.

Unless my stamp is on a dispatch,
it doesn't go through.

Well then how, in the name of
common sense, do you expect –

- Mr. Mitchell?
- Yes?

Captain.

I'm sorry. I –

I guess this war is
getting the best of me.

That's quite all right.

I'm going to have a bite of lunch.
Will you join me?

No thanks. Gotta keep my eye on things.

Yes, Albert.

The pigeons arrived.
I've got a message here.

Okay, Albert. Shoot.

It doesn't make any sense, Mr. Mitchell.

And here's what it says.

Biggest rat just arrived.

Anne K? Anne K.

All set. Grab Cheshire cheese.

Ninth inning coming up pronto.

Get set for the details.

That's great, Albert. That's great.
Just a minute.

Get my code book.

It's in my personal filing cabinet
in the Everdent room.

Mitch, hell's puffing us over.

Jerry's trying to knock out
all the coastal aerodromes.

Stay with it, Tommy.
I want all I can get!

Stacy, get Capt. Channing
in the dining hall upstairs.

Tell him I want him right a way.

Okay, Albert. Go ahead.

The hatch is down.

Watch 20 minutes fast.

Yeah?

One down. And five to go.

Yup.

Penalty, 15 yards.

- Okay, is that all, Albert?
- Yes, sir.

Okay, keep your eyes open
for that other pigeon.

Luftwaffe squad over Hampshire,
Mr. Mitchell.

Stay with it, Jeff. Stay with it.

Is this the one?

Right! Thanks, Red, thanks.

German planes over St. Pancras
in Maryland.

Mr. Mitchell?

Could you spare a minute?

Is it important, Jeff?

Very.

Yes, Jeff.

This bomb is alive, sir.

Luftwaffe squadrons over Knightsbridge.

Kensington. Chelsea.

Ah, folks.

I've got – I've got
some good news for you.

Uh, as you know,
this place isn't very safe here.

The manager Mr. Hobbs just called me.

He says he's got a place for you
in the basement of the annex.

Daisy, come here, will you?

Coming, Mitchell.

I'll have somebody
take you right up there.

Daisy, I want you
to take these people up to Mr. Hobbs.

He'll tell you what to do with them.

Now look here, Mitchell.
What about us?

All right, folks. Let's step along now.

You'll be very comfortable over there
in the annex basement.

It's the best shops in town.
So move right along, will you?

That's it! Move along!

Mitchell. Mitchell, what's the –

I insist upon knowing.

Johnny, Johnny Dunne.

I got a crew down there
to move our stuff.

I want you to go over to the annex
and figure out the layout.

- But, Mitch, why do –
- Run along.

Mitchell, for heaven sakes!

Chief?

Uh, do you know George Bernard Shaw?

Of course. Intimately.

Well, Hobbs tells me he's upstairs
right this minute having lunch.

He is?

Why don't you go up there
and get a quote from him.

What shall I ask him?

Well, uh –
ask him what he thinks of the war.

That's excellent.

I'll do that. That's excellent!

Uh, Red.

I want you to take Jeff. And go to
the annex basement with the others.

There's no basement in the Annex.

Oh, there isn't?

Yep. You know it as well as I do.

Well, Hobbs told me –

You're a liar.

Sending all those people out there.

Women and children, when you know
there's no place for them to go.

Why did you do it?

Well, if you must know,
it's because they were in the way.

Of all the rotten contemptible things
I've ever seen.

You know this isn't a nursing home.
It's a newspaper office.

I can't have this place cluttered up
with all those people.

What about Johnny Dunne and Stathas
and the telephone operator?

What about me?
Do we clutter up the place too?

Yes. I don't need you any more.

You didn't get
any phone call from Hobbs.

You got a newsflash of some sort.

And you know Channing isn't around
here to stop you from sending it.

But I'm here.

You're getting out!

Please, Red.

Listen, honey.

Believe me, Red, I got those people
out of here for their own good.

And you gotta get out of here too.
Quick!

I'll go if you go.

I can't.

Don't ask me any questions, Red.

Just trust me. And believe me!

Do you think I'm going to leave you
here alone with this teletype?

Are you all right, Red?

I'm all right.

Jeff?

Jeff?

Telephone's out, Mitch.

Telegraph's out too, huh?

Send.

Round four, Red.

Nothing to worry about, really.

They'll dig us out, all right.

If only we had some way
of getting in touch with them.

What for? They know we're trapped.

Yes, but they don't know –

They don't know what?

Hallelujah!

Boy, I know one thing.

We got a way
to reach those people upstairs.

Red, this is one for the books.

Imagine communicating
3000 miles across the ocean

and 3000 miles back,

just to get word
to somebody not 50 yards away.

Come on, let's go, Red.

Hit it!

Van Dyke, New York.

Your correspondent and teletype operator

trapped in wine cellar.

With door jammed by cave-in.

Phone's dead.

Telegraph dead.

Bomb, we thought dead, very much alive.

Telephone management Regency Hotel.
Evacuate everybody.

And get rescue squad
working to dig us out.

Come on. Chin up, Red.

We still got a chance.

Sometimes the delayed action
on those things takes hours.

Those people you put out.

Why didn't you tell them
it was a time bomb?

And have the ARP rope off
the whole building

and put me out of business?

You're out of business anyway.

No phones. No telegraphs.

You can't get any more news.

I don't need any more.

Hit it, Red.

This is no kidding.

We're a couple of dead geese.

And so is everyone else in the hotel –

unless we're out of here
before time-bomb explodes.

Please! Please! Please!

Telephone transatlantic
to hotel management.

Have rescue squad dig us out pronto.

Every minute counts.

Meantime, get set
for invasion story coming.

Uh –

You can't send any news
on this machine without Capt. Channing.

Capt. Channing isn't here.
And he can't get here.

That isn't my fault.

I've got an exclusive direct
from Calais by pigeon via Albert.

You can't use it.

Listen, Red.

In all my years as a copy boy,
I've run across all sorts of stories.

But this is the greatest story
I've ever had.

You're not going to send it.

You wait a lifetime
for a story like this, Red.

You don't know what I've got.

Hitler's in Calais right now.

He might be in London tonight.

I've got an exclusive on that story.

I've got a teletype machine
to send it with.

And no censor to stop me.

It's your duty to communicate your
information to the War Office first.

Don't you suppose they know
Hitler's in Calais if I know it?

Of course, they know it.

But you heard with Capt. Channing said.

The British intelligence
doesn't want the Germans

to know
that the British War Office knows it.

Well, that's their lookout.

Look, Yank.

If you were the British censor,
would you let that story go out?

I'm not the British censor.

I'm a newspaper man
working for the Consolidated Press.

If you send out that story, you'll be
giving information to the enemy.

I'll be giving information

to 90 million readers
of a thousand newspapers.

And the only thing it's gonna stop me
from sending that story

is that time-bomb.

Now are you going to take it?
Or do I send it myself.

That a girl, Red.

Lead. All night lead.

Exclusive

on invasion of England.

Your correspondent able to rip

veil of secrecy

from sudden departure yesterday

of Adolf Hitler from Bergneustadt.

Today German Fuhrer stands –

Take it, Red. Take it.

Today the German Fuhrer
stands in Calais.

Hitler in personal command
of mechanized troops

gathered for assault on England.

Hitler arrived French port

in armored train

gift, Mussolini.

Trained gun both ends

with roofs of sleeping cars

bearing Red Cross insignia

instead of swastika.

Hitler presence Calais

proves operation's no small-time testing

of British defense system.

But any attack leveled

at British Isles in all-out invasion.

Get off of that chair.

I said get off of that chair!

You let go of me!

You can't do it!

You're not going to send that story.

I won't let you!

Shut up, you little hellcat!

Nobody's gonna stop me!

I ought to break your neck!

Trying to smash that teletype.

You can't do this!

Let go!

Yes.

Yeah?

Yeah, Albert.

A second pigeon, Mr. Mitchell.

It's here!

All I have to do is
go out to the pigeon coop to get it.

The sky's full of Jerrys.

Well, uh – look. Never mind that.

Read me the message is quick as you can.

And get off of the roof.
And into the nearest shelter.

Can you hear me?

B left with barges.

What? I can't hear you, Albert.

B left with barges.

Amphibious tanks.

Machine's dead.

Artificial boats.

Pardon, Mr. Mitchell, sir.

A firebomb's just landed on the roof.

I'll be right back.

Mr. Mitchell?

I –

I –

Albert?

Albert?!

ALBERT?!!

Yank?

Please, don't.

You coward!

They'll arrest you
if you send that story.

They'll put you in prison.

That's right.

Send your scoop.

It's a great story.

You've got to be first with it,
no matter what cost.

There's your exclusive.

Be sure and sign your name to it.

So everyone will know who sent it.

Maybe you'll get a bonus for it.

The German Luftwaffe today

scored a tremendous victory
in the skies over London.

Single-handed, one of the Nazi squadrons

mowed down in the Englishman named

Albert Perkins, age 12.

Albert Perkins, a volunteer,
stuck to his post

through the greatest bombardment
in history.

He will not be mentioned in orders.

He will not get a citation
or Victoria Cross.

But when they find his body
and bury it in the ground of England,

the soil over his grave

will be free soil.

Jennifer.

Yes, Mitch.

I could use a drink.

I'll get it.

I'll buy.

Mitchell!

Oh, Mitchell!

Mitchell, are you all right?

Yeah, I'm all right.

Well, hurry!

I found out there's a time bomb in here.