All language subtitles for The Crown - 2x06 - Vergangenheit.WEB.STRiFE.en

How much further, Loesch?

Straight on.

- Pull over, Private.
- Stop.

Grab those shovels.

Show us, Loesch.

Spread out.

Here.

Start digging.

We got something.

Here it is.

What's he asking for?

Freedom in a country
of his choice.

And a generous pension
to last the rest of his lifetime.

Well, let's see how good it is first.

Get it translated.

- Don't you knock?
- Sir.

Uh, gentlemen, may I help you?

Enter.

Sir.

I'm going to need to speak
to the Prime Minister.

I need to see the King.

We all suspected it.

These papers must never see
the light of day, Winston. Ever.

Publication could do grave harm
to the national interest.

The gravest.

What is written here brings
the greatest shame upon this family.

Our people would, rightfully,
never forgive us.

The mighty Harringay Arena
in London

draws a capacity crowd of over 11,000
for the first meeting in Britain

of the American evangelist team,
headed by Billy Graham.

Mr. Graham, who wears a slate-gray suit
and a modest tie,

makes his address
from a purple-draped platform.

The Bible teaches
that all of us are wrong.

We have all gone astray,
with everyone turned to his own way.

And when you turn...

It's rare and not entirely reassuring
to see religious certainty

in someone so young.

- He's not young; he's my age.
- Precisely. A child.

I think moral authority
and spiritual guidance

should come from someone
with a little life experience.

Not from someone
who learned their trade selling brushes

door to door in North Carolina.

But there's a humility to that
which I like.

Are those people crying?

Billy Graham has spoken to

more than one and a half
million people...

- What's happening to this country?
- Now, he sums up his crusade.

The people of Great Britain
never cried during the war.

Now they're weeping like children.

I'm calling for a revival
that will cause every man and woman

to return to their offices and shops

and live out the teachings of Christ
in their daily relationships.

I'm going to preach a gospel,
not of despair, but of hope.

Hope for the individual,
hope for society, hope for the world.

Turning out in droves
for an American zealot.

He's not a zealot.

He's shouting, darling.
Only zealots shout.

When you close your eyes,

close your ears to God's way,

you will soon prefer your own ideas
to the ideas of God.

You come to a stage where your own evil
seems to you good

and God's good seems to be evil.

On three.

Happy birthday, Trooper!

Good boy.

Good shot! Bravo.

Well done.

Now we are losing.

- Is it me?
- It's me, it's me!

No, I don't want one.

Oh, darling. Where's your pep?

You look very dashing.

A hat!

- Monsieur.
- Alors, qu'est-ce que vous pensez?

- Magnifique! Parfait!
- I don't like it.

Oh, no, no, no, I cannot go like this.

Why not?

At least that way,
I get to be queen once.

Would you like to know what my day
consisted of today?

Don't tell me.
The same as every other day.

I rose late. Past 11.
Then inspected the gardens.

Then ate lunch with people
of no consequence.

- My friends!
- People of no consequence.

I never thought I'd hear myself say it,

but a life of pleasure
really has its limits.

Try a life spent living with you.

My motto, as Prince of Wales,
was "Ich dien." "I serve."

Deeply rooted within me
is a need to serve my country.

I need a job, a purpose.

- Not this again.
- Yes, this.

Well, where do you intend to find one?

I will simply have to go to London
to set things in motion.

Shall I tell you what else is deeply
rooted within your family? Delusion.

They won't let you in the country,
let alone give you a job.

- That's not what my lawyer says.
- You've spoken to George?

- Why didn't you tell me?
- Well, I'm telling you now.

I still have allies, you know,
important allies.

Disciples of the truth,
advocates of justice,

who could mobilize opinion,

start a campaign... to have
a former king be forgiven.

Finally, there's a request, ma'am,
from the government,

for you to open the new airport
at Gatwick.

Um, they've offered some dates.
Third of June works best for us, I think.

- Yes, all right.
- And that is it from me.

Thank you, Michael.

- Oh, there was something.
- There was...

Ma'am.

If I wished to meet Reverend Graham,
do you think that could be arranged?

The evangelist, ma'am?

Yes.

Well, I should need
to give it some thought.

Um...

One might imagine
an invitation being extended

to preach at All Saints' Chapel at Windsor
and a private lunch to follow?

Lovely.

We should have to be careful,
though, ma'am,

that any invitation to,
or association with, Reverend Graham,

not be perceived as an endorsement
of his...

crusades,

which would not be compatible with
your role as the head of the Church.

I'm sure you'll handle it all perfectly,
Michael.

And you had something?

Yes, um...

His Royal Highness, the Duke of Windsor,
has written with a request.

- Oh.
- What for?

- To be allowed to enter the country.
- Denied!

To research a book
which he's planning to write.

On what subject?

a Guidebook.

Mm.

He didn't say.

I suppose we could let him stay
at Kensington Palace.

He's intending to stay
with his friend Major Metcalfe.

Fruity? But doesn't he live in Surrey?

- Sussex, I believe.
- Oh, that's quite good.

- Out of public eye.
- The further the better, if you ask me.

So, that is a yes.

- No!
- Yes.

- No.
- Yes.

Yes, let him come.

Ma'am.

- Morning.
- Good morning, sir.

- Uh, did you finish that paperwork?
- Yes, sir.

- Thank you.
- This one's for Mr. Sweet.

- This one for...
- Morning, Margaret.

Morning, sir. Monsieur Robert.

Yes, ma'am.

Take a look at this.

It's practically an injunction.

Sir.

Are you aware of this?

I am.

As historians, we have a duty to publish
the truth, no exceptions.

Otherwise, what are we all doing?
Protecting Nazis?

Protecting something else.

My hands are tied.

But his are not.

That's right.

I have access to the US State Department
duplicate files.

Including this.

There's nothing to stop
the American government publishing

if the British government won't.

"My dearest darling Peaches,

let us hope the rest of the trip
is not as miserable as the journey.

It was a most disagreeable crossing,
due to bad weather.

The company on the boat
was dreadful too,

common and uninteresting people,

pestering me to join them for drinks
or play cards.

On arrival in London,
my mood was lifted slightly

by a large group of welcoming supporters
who cheered my name

and removed their hats.

And my niece, the Queen,
sent me one of the hearses.

Later in the evening I feared things
would go from bad to worse,

as we arrived at Fruity's rather drab
little house, somewhere in Sussex."

Fruity.

- Your Royal Highness.
- How are you?

- Very well.
- Your Royal Highness.

Baba dear.

"But George excelled, as ever, and
revealed the work he had already done."

Of course the true purpose
of the visit can't be known to anybody.

Should anyone get wind of any
"job hunting" by His Royal Highness,

it might be seen as a violation of
the agreement made after the abdication

and His Royal Highness might find himself

not only being asked to leave the country,
but also without a pension.

So, this trip must be perceived,
first and foremost, as a literary one.

- I trust you came prepared.
- I brought quill and ink.

All that notwithstanding,

I've started a campaign,

gathering friends and supporters.

And early indications
are most encouraging.

Walter Monckton has agreed
to host a dinner,

and we've had "yesses"
from Lord Salisbury, Lord Beaverbrook,

Lord Dudley, the American ambassador
and the Foreign Secretary Selwyn Lloyd.

Ooh, Cecil Beaton and Noel Coward

have agreed to hold
a little supper party for you.

Oh, dear Cecil...

...and his inedible food.

- Do we really have to do this?
- Indulge me. I'm interested.

Couldn't you just make up an excuse
and say I'm off sinning somewhere?

No.

Lanky bugger, isn't he?

I think he's rather handsome.

A door-to-door salesman
in a hideous shiny suit.

- Where's his box?
- What box?

- The one containing his brushes.
- Oh, no, look.

- Come on. We'll be late.
- Hair brushes. Floor brushes.

- Toothbrushes.
- Do shut up, Philip.

As I was thinking about
what to preach about today,

I considered various topics
which speak to me personally,

but I thought that I would start
with a simple question.

What is a Christian?

The Bible tells us; Colossians 1:27 says

that a Christian
is a person in whom Christ dwells.

It's Christ in you.

The hope of glory.

It means that you have
a personal relationship

with the Lord Jesus Christ.

That encounter has taken place.

You have received Christ as savior.

And that is what a Christian is.

I enjoyed that very much.

You do speak with such wonderful clarity
and certainty.

I find it very reassuring.

And it's not only me.

The rest of the country are too,
I imagine.

Yes.

We've been surprised ourselves
at the turnout.

- Really?
- Mm-hm.

Well, you shouldn't be.

In an increasingly complex world,
we all need certainty, and you provide it.

Well, that's not me.
The scriptures provide it.

Yes, but you illuminate them
so well.

The great joy that I have felt today was
that of being a simple congregant,

being taught, being led.

You see, as head of the Anglican Church,
in terms of rank,

even the great Archbishops of York
and Canterbury are below me.

Above me there is only God.

- Well, that must be lonely sometimes.
- Yes, it is.

Which is why it's lovely, as Queen,
to be able to just disappear and be...

A simple Christian.

Yes.

Above all things, I do think of myself
as just a simple Christian.

It's the values of Christian living
that root me, guide me.

Define me.

Have you always been
such a good speaker?

I was actually a shy child.

- No.
- Mm-hm.

Speaking as a shy child myself,

I have to say that I find that
very hard to believe.

No, ma'am, it's true.

The first time I ever spoke in public,
I was 12 years old. At school.

The school principal told my mother
he thought I was a natural,

that, of all things, I had a gift.

I've no objection
to his being here.

It's the word "crusade" that troubles me.

If the Reverend Graham is the crusader,
the implication is that we're heathens!

Not sure I go along with it.

Mr. Wheeler-Bennett, sir.

Ah, excuse me.

Prime Minister. Thank you for seeing me.

You didn't give me much choice.
"A matter of the greatest urgency."

Your team of troublesome historians?

Committed historians.
Principled historians.

- Is that the file in question?
- Yes.

Let's make a start.

Ah, there you are! Plotters all!

Your Royal Highness.

Are the curtains drawn?

Does treason abound?

George, thank you so much.

- Cecil, it's so good of you to come.
- Sir.

- Dear Bobbety. How are you?
- Hello, sir. I'm very well.

Walter, thank you so much for all this.

We all know why we're here tonight.

To see if we can help our dear friend,

His Royal Highness,
in his quest to find...

A final act to this sad drama.

And to turn it into a great history play.
He seeks a job.

A purpose.

Well, that's why I'm here.
To ask you all, my council of war,

my... my Brains Trust of politicians,
artists and philosophers.

- Something in the military, perhaps?
- Well, why not?

I was made a major-general, attached
to the British military mission in France

at the beginning of the war,
in a liaising role

between us and the French,
and I very much enjoyed it.

Or a position within the Board of Trade.

Well, what kind of position?

Helping promote Britain's
economic interests abroad.

- Well... Yes.
- The right man in the right position

could contribute
so much to Britain's economy,

helping boost our much-needed
dollar reserves.

- A man with charm, contacts, influence.
- Hmm.

And the magic of being a former King.

Look, doesn't it all feel
a little grubby, Walter,

all those grasping
international businessmen,

the whiff of profit and self-interest?

No, I like the direction we were heading
earlier, the idea of a liaison post.

- Then what about the diplomatic service?
- Oh, I like that idea.

Don't the Americans have these unofficial
roving ambassadors nowadays?

Yes, they have two in London
at the moment. Hmm.

Well, something like that would be ideal.

Well, I think we have...

"My dearest darling Peaches.

What a weight is off my mind.

Monckton really did come up
with the goods,

and his friends really do seem
to want to help me.

Now, all I must do is wait,

while they discreetly make
representations on my behalf.

I would say 'wait and pray, '

but all taste for prayer has left me,
as I survey

the madness involving
the American evangelist here.

What has happened to the people
of this country,

turning like lemmings to this
crusading showman from Charlotte

for their inspiration?

Rumor reached me that Shirley Temple
even invited the fool

to preach at Windsor Chapel.

Can you imagine the banality
of those exchanges?

The smugness,
self-congratulation and hypocrisy.

What a grotesque occasion
that must have been.

Now bed calls, and for once,
as my head hits the pillow

without yours beside me,
I can truthfully say, all is well.

Today was a day worth living.

Your loving husband, David."

- Good morning, sir.
- Primed and ready?

Ready for you now, sir.

I received a visit yesterday afternoon
from John Wheeler-Bennett,

the senior historian in charge
of publishing the German war files,

who informed me that this government
was now left with no choice

but to publish certain material,

which both my predecessor,
Winston Churchill,

and yours, your late father,
tried to suppress.

What material?

The Marburg Files, ma'am.

This was always going to come back
to haunt us.

Shortly after the war ended,
some British troops...

Uh... American.

American troops arrested a German
soldier, as he was retreating from...

Treffurt. Near Eisenach.
In central Germany.

I don't remember the soldier's name.

Leutnant von Loesch.

Turns out, this soldier
was Hitler's personal translator.

Uh...

The assistant to Hitler's
personal translator, ma'am.

Hitler's personal translator
was Dr Schmidt, Dr Paul Schmidt.

All right, you tell the story, Michael.
Please.

Thank you, ma'am.

When his offices were being evacuated...

...Dr. Schmidt
asked his assistant, von Loesch,

to dispose of all the top-secret papers,
which he had placed in archives.

Von Loesch duly burnt the vast majority.

But, he secretly kept
the most valuable material,

hoping to use it to negotiate
his freedom and to escape trial.

Among the papers
which von Loesch kept back,

there was one file pertaining
to Anglo-German relations,

in particular, the relationship
of Nazi high command

with His Royal Highness,
the Duke of Windsor.

I think it's fair to say, the reality
exceeded even our worst fears.

- We did everything to contain this...
- That's your lot.

...unaware that a copy
had been sent to the Americans...

...who are now insisting that this volume
of the Marburg Files...

be published.

And this is the man you
inexplicably let back into the country.

I hope you have a strong stomach.

Thank you, Joe.

- Your Royal Highness.
- Foreign Secretary.

- Please.
- Thank you.

You have loyal
and persistent friends, sir.

Oh, thank you.

Following their representations and...

having given the matter careful thought,

it looks like we now have several options.

Please.

The first option I'd like you to look at
would be the role of ambassador to France.

To a happy and...

purposeful future.

- Hear, hear!
- His Royal Highness.

His Royal Highness!

"My dearest darling one, I met
with the Foreign Secretary today

who has managed to find three posts
where I could do something of value

and importance. I am so happy.

These posts would offer me the chance
to serve my country

and make a difference.

As to the green light, as far as
government is concerned, it's a go.

Only one obstacle remains,
to get the blessing of the Crown,

which involves a brief trip back
to that miserable mausoleum,

Buckingham Palace.

Counting down the minutes
until I am back in your arms again.

Your loving husband, David."

The Duke of Windsor, Your Majesty.

Your Majesty.

- Ah, yes. It's your first time back.
- In this room, yes.

That color was me, French Gray.

So, to what do we owe the pleasure?

I assume it's about this new book
that you're writing.

Oh, actually, I've come here today
on another matter. A job.

That while I'm clearly
no longer a young man,

I'm also not yet an old one

and might be able
to usefully serve the Crown.

You had a chance to serve this country,
the greatest chance.

You gave it up.

Well, I gave it up because of the way
my wife was treated,

not because I no longer wished
to serve this country.

Anyway, one or two ideas came up.
For jobs,

which would require the blessing
both of government and Crown.

Of course, before coming here
and bothering you,

I made sure the support
would be given by government

and I've been assured of that support.

Support for what jobs?

Well, three possibilities came up.

The first is the ambassadorship to France.

The PM and Foreign Secretary
aren't keen

on the incumbent, Gladwyn Jebb.

And the second option?

Oh, uh, as a special
liaison to the Board of Trade.

The third?

As, uh, High Commissioner, working with
the Commonwealth Relations Office

to protect and promote British interests
throughout the world.

This would suit me, I think,

uh, as it specializes
in the practical side of diplomatic work.

Entertaining.

Well, I'm sure that you'd do
all three jobs very well indeed.

But in light of what I've recently
learned about...

About what?

About events that took place,
while you were in Lisbon during the war.

- From whom?
- From state papers.

Which state papers?

German state papers...

which American historians,
supported by the French and the British,

are now threatening to publish.

And what exactly is in these papers?

Letters. And telegrams.

Communications detailing your relationship
with Nazi high command.

Well, it's utter nonsense.

In one telegram, from 1940,

it states that you were considering
publicly going against the government

and pledging your support
for peace with Germany,

thereby breaking with my father, the King.

In another, it says that,
in return for your support,

the German government
offered you a home in Spain,

where you could wait out the rest
of the war in peace and safety

while your countrymen gave their lives.

I went to the Bahamas
as the British government instructed.

Yes, you were instructed to go
to the Bahamas because of your views.

In these papers, you're quoted as saying
that the Führer's desire for peace

was in complete agreement
with your own point of view.

You were too young to remember.

I, alas, not.

Hitler and his henchmen
were once our friends.

As King, I was committed to the idea,
passionately committed,

that England and Germany
should never be enemies again

after the horrors of the Great War.

People forget, there was no indication
of who Hitler would become.

You could argue that we were the ones
that made a monster of him,

by refusing to be his allies.
This is the point.

People make stands.

They grandstand to pat themselves
on the back for their great virtue.

And what is the consequence?
Another grotesque war.

Millions more dead.

When peace was all that mattered to me.

In that spirit, I am asking you to make
peace with me today.

Elizabeth, the British
are a sensible people;

they will never believe
these claims against me.

They will dismiss these papers
for what they are:

baseless rumors and German propaganda.

Everything all right?

- Can I ask your opinion?
- Of course. What about?

Forgiveness.

Goodness. What have I done now?

No, not you.

Uncle David.

- I think it's time that he be forgiven.
- Are you mad?

- You can't forgive that man.
- Why not?

What he did to this country.

Those were different times.
He's explained all that to me.

Mm, I bet he did.

Philip.

Forgiveness is very important to me.

It's not often I say this, so perhaps
if I do, you will take it seriously.

Ask Tommy Lascelles
to come and see you.

What?

And tell him
of your proposed course of action.

- I can't keep summoning him like that.
- Why not?

- Well, he's retired for one thing.
- Well, then go and see him,

in an unofficial capacity.

For sherry or tea.

Or human blood,
whatever that monster drinks.

And ask him about your uncle. He was
his private secretary while he was King.

He knows everything there is to know.

- Your Majesty.
- Tommy, is it terribly inconvenient?

Ah!

- You're mid-battle!
- Yes, ma'am.

Now, don't say anything.

Ah...

Yes, those uniforms...

- It's 19th century?
- Yes.

And that standard
is the Duke of Wellington.

Very good, ma'am.

So it's Waterloo.

- Salamanca.
- Ah.

Ah... And these?

Troops of Sir Edward Pakenham's
Third Infantry Division.

Oh, they're lovely.
Did you have them made?

A gift, ma'am.

From your grandfather,
when I was in his service.

Hmm.

- Shall we, ma'am?
- Yes.

I'm proposing to let the Duke of Windsor
back into public life.

And, as an example of a Christian
in a Christian country, to forgive.

Your Majesty,
that would...

in my view...

be a mistake.

Why?

Before you make your decision, ma'am,

I believe you should be
in full possession of the facts.

- I've read the Marburg Files.
- So have I.

I said full possession.

- You mean there's more.
- Yes, ma'am.

The Duke of Windsor
made his loyalties clear

as soon as he became King.

Surrounded himself
with a new breed of courtier,

men such as Carl,
the Duke of Saxe-Coburg, a renowned Nazi.

He also shared classified Allied
documents with the Duchess of Windsor,

who was herself, we believe,
sharing a bed...

forgive me, ma'am...
with the German ambassador,

Herr Ribbentrop.

It became so bad that the government

had to stop putting secret
and sensitive papers in his red box.

But we needn't have worried,
because then we had the abdication.

Having promised to retire
from public life,

we now know that he had
no such intention.

Why else would the pair of them
decide to visit Hitler in Germany?

Heil Hitler!

Heil Hitler!

The Führer labeled the trip
an unofficial state visit,

so it is unsurprising that it was
on that same trip,

at the home of Herr Hess,
that the plan was hatched.

A plan to reinstate the Duke of Windsor
as King of England...

effectively betraying and dethroning
your dear late father,

in return for German forces being given
free rein across Europe.

German troops were even promised to
quell a colonial rebellion, if necessary.

And there were visits
to SS training schools

and early versions
of the concentration camps.

Now, of course,

the full horrors were yet to come.

Nonetheless, he visited.

Shall I continue, ma'am?

When a German aircraft
crashed in Belgium

carrying Hitler's entire military plan
for the invasion of France,

the Duke wasted no time in letting
his Nazi friends know

that Allied forces had, indeed,
recovered this priceless information,

which gave Germany time
to change its plans.

And, in less than a month,
Paris fell to German occupation.

But perhaps worst of all, the Duke

told the German government
that resolve in the United Kingdom

in the face of the German
aerial bombardment

was weakening
and that continued bombing...

that is, the continued slaughter of his
fellow countrymen and former subjects,

would, I quote,
"soon make Britain ready for peace."

The problems of the world
can be summed up

in one three-letter word:

S- I-N.

Sin.

From Psalm 58, "The wicked
are estranged from the womb.

They go astray as soon as they be born,
speaking lies."

God looks deep down inside of you.

God sees how you really are
down inside.

Now, you may be outwardly genteel,
refined, cultured,

a churchman,
of good standing in the community,

but is your heart far from God?

I've had a chance to think about
your request to serve your country.

I was keen to help you
and, weighing it all up...

the amount of time that has passed
and my affection for you, personally,

all spoke in its favor.

But?

But, on balance...

I think not.

And I'm sure you don't need reminding

that under the terms of the agreement
reached after the abdication,

you are permitted to return to
the United Kingdom only at the pleasure

and invitation of the sovereign.

Yes?

I find myself unable to grant
that permission.

And who has fed you this poison?
Your mother?

No.

Tommy Lascelles?

- I came to my own mind.
- But you have no mind of your own.

That's why everyone's so thrilled
with you.

The last royal to have a mind of his own
was me and that's why they threw me out.

Fine. I will go.

But let me ask you this.

Who has done
more damage to the monarchy?

Me, with my willfulness, or you lot,
with your inhumanity?

We all closed our eyes, our ears,
to what was being said about you.

We dismissed it as fabrications,
as cruel chatter,

in light of your decision
to give up the throne.

But when the truth finally came out...

The truth!

It makes a mockery of even
the central tenets of Christianity.

There is no possibility
of my forgiving you.

How on earth
can you forgive yourself?

- How was your trip?
- Sir!

- How's the Duchess?
- Your Royal Highness!

Sir!

- Good morning, sir.
- Morning.

- Morning.
- Morning, sir.

- Morning, sir.
- Morning.

We have the go-ahead to publish.

Thank you, sir.

Reverend Graham, Your Majesty.

Your Majesty.

You're very kind to find time
for me again.

Oh, do sit down.

Reverend Graham, uh...

I asked you here today because...

there's something that I'd very much like
to hear your views on.

Ma'am?

Forgiveness.

Are there any circumstances, do you feel,

where one can be a good Christian
and yet not forgive?

Christian teaching's very clear on this.
No one is beneath forgiveness.

Dying on the cross, Jesus himself asked
the Lord to forgive those that killed him.

Yes.

But... we must remember his words.

"They know not what they do."

That forgiveness, it was conditional.

True, but he still forgave.

God himself forgives us all. Who are we
to reject the example of God?

Mere mortals.

We are all mortals, that is our fate,
but we need not be un-Christian ones.

The solution for being unable to forgive:

one asks for forgiveness oneself.

Humbly and sincerely, and one prays
for those that one cannot forgive.

Saying one for me?

- Not on this occasion, no.
- Go on. Put a word in.

We all know you have
the ear of the big man upstairs,

- as, as head of his church.
- Oh, you're drunk.

- I am. I don't deny it.
- Get off.

But not nearly as drunk as either
of my drinking companions tonight.

- Care to take a guess?
- I wouldn't dare.

Your de... your de...

Your dear Ma was one.

What?!

And Tommy Lascelles the other.

- No.
- Yes!

I know. Hideous thought.

But we all agreed to put aside
our historical differences

to celebrate the one good thing
we all have in common.

Which is?

You.

And the heroic way
you kicked that wretched fool out today,

tail between his legs.

- It was hardly heroic.
- On the contrary, it was entirely heroic.

And don't, don't for one minute

start on about it being
a failure of Christianity.

- Uh, it is.
- No. It's not.

You protected your country and you
protected the reputation of your family.

Not to mention successfully banishing
Satan from entering the Garden of Eden.

That's Christ's business
in anyone's books.

So, it's a gold star from Jesus.

And a gold star from me.

What are you doing?

- No!
- Yes.

- No. No, darling.
- Oh, yes, darling! Come on.

No!

Ha!