Original subtitles

For Allied forces in the Gulf, the preparation is over. The real battle?

Only days away.

This relentless activity is a reminder that if final hour diplomacy stumbles,

then action against Iraq will be both certain and uncompromising.

Saddam Hussein says it will be the mother of all battles, but President

Bush demanded that conflict must be swift and decisive.

This will not be another Vietnam.

This will not be a protracted...

drawn-out war.

could be over Iraqi territory within 20 minutes.

The UN Secretary General said, only God knows if there would be peace or war.

When I walk out of here, I won't quiet.

Back to 20.

Bacon sandwich.

It's mine!

Hello?

Yeah, I'll be right down.

This is for Kate's birthday.

Here.

Dearest Kate, I'm truly sorry I can't be with you on your birthday.

Shit. Four years old.

I've missed every one of them.

Wow!

Allah!

Darling, you've got to let me know.

Should I stay or should I go?

You take care of Moomin.

Okay.

One more.

What is it?

Power of attorney, remember?

House buying.

We still haven't exchanged contracts yet.

You could always get that dog you were talking about.

Piss off, Andy.

See you when I see you.

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go there will be trouble!

If anyone touches you while I'm away, I'll knot their bollocks so tight

they'll be pissing out their ears.

Hey, where's Tony?

Should I stay or should I go now?

If I go there will be

Stand's got it.

How do I look?

Every soldier hopes for a major war in his lifetime.

This one was mine.

will make them too difficult to locate and track, let alone destroy.

The attack on Tel Aviv has not so far resulted in any response from Israel.

It's not yet been confirmed, but it looks like all our tasking's changed and

we'll be against Scuds since Israel's been taking hits.

A lot of pissed off people in Tel Aviv.

How long have we got?

Three days, who knows?

Plenty of time.

This is not the wankers.

Come on, give us a hand.

Right,

eat over there, shit over there, sleep.

Tomorrow we can find a space.

The ammo's along the end of the track, so don't forget to get your jabs.

Jack shit.

Hey, Chris, this'll do. Oh, really?

Oh, great. I've got a Kiwi. What

the hell

is this? Lego.

Breeze blood.

It's very thoughtful of you, Mark. Just what we needed.

Jesus!

Sid's got a brew up.

Wait, lads, listen in. Here, lads. Over here.

This is your nuclear, biological and chemical protection suit.

And bits.

Just think of it as a large condom with legs.

What have we got here, then?

Blankets, beds, coke, and most importantly of all, soft toilet roll.

What have you swapped all this for?

24-hour Russian.

Ours?

No. These squadrons.

Did you

see the dog?

No. Jabs?

No. But I did get some morphine.

It was two apiece.

Seven across turncoats for the Opera five layers

It's a crossword clip

That

night we had our first attack

I asked him if these suits worked.

He said, whatever turns you on.

Don't fart in it. It's fatal.

You can get two into one suit.

For what, mate?

A bit of fun.

I feel lonely in here.

Looks like TV to me.

What are you thinking?

Seven across.

Turncoats for the art room.

Andy?

Warning order.

Eight-man patrol, you command.

Grey will be to IC.

You will be cutting a communications line. No move for three days.

Briefing for everyone, 0800 hours tomorrow.

Clever.

It's not too clever staying up here, chaps.

I don't want to lose you in some bone incident.

Did Grim talk to you? Yeah.

You okay about it?

I'm finished, Rune. This is my last job.

Mind you, you cock up, I'll be down in you like a ton of shite.

Okay,

let's get on with it. As you know, your task is against Scud.

Ground northwest of Baghdad.

Your area of concern will be this northern main supply route.

Situation?

The Scuds landing in Israel are causing the alliance major problems.

Two nights ago, the Israeli Air Force was in the air, waiting to attack

targets inside Iraq.

If Israel joins in the war, the alliance with the Arab states will crumble.

Which, of course, is what Iraq wants.

But if the Scud attacks on Israel don't stop within the next two weeks, Israel

will join the war.

Now, we're not concerned about the fixed silos.

Airstrikes are taking care of those.

But the mobile launchers are a different matter.

They're almost impossible to locate. However, they do have one weakness.

To program in their targets, they need assistance from Baghdad.

This information is fed through fiber optic cables buried along the MSRs

between Baghdad and the border towns.

Cut those cables and they can't fly.

Mission. In two parts.

One, locate and destroy the fiber optic cable running along the northern MSR.

Two, destroy Mobile Scout.

Repeat. One, locate and destroy the fiber optic cable which runs along the

northern MSR.

Two, destroy mobile scud.

Any questions?

This terrain's crap.

It's like a billiard table. How the hell are we going to find a hide in that?

Maps? One in a million. Air navigation.

Otherwise, jack shit.

The better ones turn up in time, they're yours. Shit.

One genetic increase.

This is what it's all about, mate.

Getting on with what you got.

So how are we getting in?

Well, there's no point in taking vehicles.

We'll just stick out like a bulldog's bollocks.

Yeah, looks like a heli drop-off.

Better give Harry and his crew a warning order, Bert.

Well, if we're going to find the fibre optic, we're going to have to hit the

MSR at its narrowest.

Narrowest at a bend.

Everyone cuts corners. What about here?

Shouldn't be any military activity whatsoever.

Just be aware of the airfield in the southwest.

Yeah, no population. Looks good to me.

Weather?

Much like a spring day in the UK.

These cables, are they above ground, buried in pipes or what?

Don't know yet.

We're still waiting for more intelligence, I suppose. What we need to

use plastic explosives for to be just good at my tap with a hammer.

There's a boy in D Squadron who used to lay fiber optics for some telecom

company. I'll see if he knows the score.

Once we cut the landlines, someone's going to come along and renew them.

Exactly.

If you can take them out...

It'll slow down the repair time.

Great. We'll be operating here around 178k from the Syrian border.

It's more than twice that far to Saudi.

We'll infill by heli, our drop-off point being around 20k south of the MSR.

From there, move north to the MSR and find a hide in the area of this bend.

Once in position, find the cable and place the charges on staggered timings.

No longer 3 or 4K length.

If we get into any shit, we call AWACS on the TACBIS, get some air support

while we're waiting for the heli pickup.

If that doesn't happen,

tap to Syria.

OK. What do you want TACBIS for?

To order up pizza. I need eight.

Eight?

You work in pairs, don't you?

OK, four.

Four TACBIS that are calling air support.

You understand?

Yeah. They are not for any other purpose.

Right. What's this?

That is a shiny thing.

But I want one.

You don't even know what it does, do you?

What's this?

203 bombs.

Where are they, boy?

Under your bed.

Why's that?

Cos you're the only one who can wank without wiggling your arse.

What's that?

This.

is a shiny thing.

And I love it.

These are for the claymores.

You've got the choice of chocolate chip or raspberry ripple.

Did you find that peen thaw?

Yeah, I already started to pack them, mate.

Just need someone to add some bolts.

Only need are the dents.

Yeah, got it, mate.

Now, Mark, why don't you put the dents in and go and test them somewhere far

away?

Shove it, mate.

As much link as we can carry for them, enemies.

And 5-5-6 for the 203s.

What's your score with the 203 bombs and claymores?

You have your scores?

This is the first time the regiment's been together since World War II.

We're not scoured up for this kind of deal. We're skint.

Whose is our listen?

C&T squadrons.

Aye, aye. We're operational in three days.

Well, so are they.

You don't have a job yet.

What's the sodden point in bringing us out if you haven't got any kit? Ray, why

don't you go and see if you can find some claymores and 203 bombs and take

Chris with you?

Cyril, you're gonna have to have a word with the other squadrons. See if you can

get some gear, mate.

Dearest Gilly, if you're reading this, I'm dead.

Don't mope around.

Get the insurance money and have a good time.

P.S. Don't forget, £500 is to go behind the bar at the next squadron pistol.

P.P.S.

I love you.

Are those the takedays? Yeah.

We've only got one between two.

Have you tested the 319?

No, I'll test it tomorrow and assign for the codes.

Mm.

We've got our call sign.

Bravo 2-0.

Sounds good to me.

I like the easy-to-remember ones.

Doesn't get any easier, does it?

No.

What is that shiny thing, by the way?

It's a sat-nav.

Put it on the list, mate.

Mark can have it.

Yeah.

Well, seeing as you've got no brew left, I'm off.

Dearest Kate, my dearest, dearest shiny thing.

This is a letter I've never wanted to write, or you to read.

Here, we check zeroed the minimis and 203s.

Weapons are just a tool, as long as they go bang when you squeeze the trigger and

hit what you're aiming at.

That'll do.

Nice to have known you, wankers.

And you, dickheads.

The kit's divided equally, so if anything goes wrong, any two of us can

carry out the task with some success.

We only took the essentials, but even that added up to 209 pounds each, the

weight of a 15-stone man.

How do you feel?

Bloody hell, boy, how far have we got to tab with this lot?

What, gents?

Listen up.

Sort out your kit and bag it up.

Next to Kim, one bag.

Squadron another.

Remember to label which is which.

Don't want Mummy and Daddy knowing their little boy wears stockings and

suspenders every chance he gets, do we?

Last supper's around six.

We might be getting some fresh in.

Especially for you.

Why don't we stuff them all in bin liners and take them with us?

We're not a bunch of New Age travellers.

It's always a question of style with you, Chris, isn't it?

You are.

What you wear.

And what you carry.

Everything goes in the Bergens, except for the NBC kit, which, in deference to

Chris, we will carry in these designer sandbags.

Right.

Anything we've forgotten?

Aye. The cover story.

There's a high chance of dipping out on this one.

Well, the obvious one's Pilot Rescue.

We're a search team looking for downed pilots, and our own Ellie goes down

while we're looking for them.

Sounds good. You want a picky?

Yeah, mine as well.

Watch it, watch it.

You

don't

have to show anything, mate. Yeah, Chris, leave that.

The lowlies do it, the lazy bastards.

Anyway, lads, I'm just going for a piss.

For my parents, for Gillie and Kate, to be given to when she's 15, and one for

you. Tossers!

He says, cock this up, wanker, and I'll come back and haunt you.

No, but seriously, Andy, anything goes wrong.

Yeah. Can I have your seal board?

Yeah, if you do one thing for me. Aye.

Pay off the mortgage on my house.

Aye, righto.

Oi, clever bollocks, introduce yourself.

Name and proof of life statement, please.

We need to know you're alive if we have to give a ransom away.

Andy McNabb, 31.

If I win, I would like to travel and work with children.

Thank you. Stan?

Stan Rigby. Otherwise known as Dr. Sex.

Yay!

Statement. Chaucer died on the 25th of October, 1400.

Tony Bernardi, Swiss-Italian, ex-Raw Marine.

Obvious. Tall women.

Statement? Statement.

That's another fine mess you've gotten me into.

Mark Warner, mate. Mate!

Australian SAS.

I'm five foot six, and that's official.

And I'm shy.

Dinger.

Ex para.

Chain smoker.

Statement. My God, my country, my Olly Davidson.

Not necessarily in that order.

Well,

Brown, ex-paralyte dinger, only better looking.

Statement, I will go out smoking next year.

This year.

Chris.

Statement. I have an XR4i and the colour is green.

Tony. Mail.

I'll stick in your kit when you're done.

You've forgotten Ray.

Brilliant. My poll tax demand.

Ray. Ray Davies from the Reader's Digest.

Congratulations. You've been selected for many people in your area for a free

entry into our special prize draw.

That's shit, that is.

That's your statement?

Yes.

You all set? Yep.

Since yesterday more relevant missiles are on route, so we'll be going down a

bit lower to about 80 feet Okay Let's go through those concert drills again then

hurry Contact on landing will break and drop you about 40 K's West Contact

on departure get me on the tank B and I'll come back and give you one minute

and I want plenty of covering fire on the approach.

Okay, okay If the shit hits the fan and we go down Whatever way you go We'll go

the other.

It's nothing personal. It's just that to the Iraqis, we're simply air crew,

whereas you guys are Friday the 13th.

Harold, we've got a slot.

All right, then.

Let's get to work.

Go well?

Well.

Stolen off of the squadron's kit.

And there's a complaint from the Americans, but for a three-day

turnaround, it's not bad.

120.

80 feet.

90 knots.

Roger that.

80 feet. 90 knots.

Re-entrant left.

Four miles.

Roger that. Re-entrant left.

Hold in left.

Lights system on.

Roger that. Lights on.

Andy, tell your crew we are now over the border.

We're over the border.

We're over the border.

New lines.

We're over the border.

Body armour.

Sit on it, mate.

Protect your bollocks.

Yeah, I haven't got any, mate.

I went over every detail of the job.

I was worried by the lack of intelligence and kit.

No recent satellite pics. No decent maps.

But these things happen.

You have to get on with what you've got.

At least we're well armed.

I was conscious, too, about the high proportion of green sweets.

I needed to swap them for red ones at the first opportunity.

Lock on. Lock on!

Shit! Lock on! Braking left.

Brake left.

Fine.

Tap him! Tap him!

70, 60 feet.

50 feet.

50 feet, right.

Bollocks to it.

This is going to happen. I don't want to hear it.

Deploy. Should be there.

Got it.

Breaking right. Breaking right.

What was that, a Roman?

It's all right for you. We've got to come back this way.

Two minutes to landing.

Two minutes!

Two minutes!

Ready?

What for?

Ten feet.

Eight feet.

Six feet.

Four feet.

Go, go, go!

Walk on.

Ripe on.

Six go on.

Baggage going.

Approximately 15 seconds.

Seven gone.

Andy doing final sweep.

Eight gone. That's an all clear.

The call is on.

Where are the dogs?

There's a plantation over there.

Got half a guy.

That wasn't on the map.

Scott.

We could have a fix on those positions.

Chris, get the rest of them in.

It was over a two-hour hike to the MSR, the main supply route.

The danger of finding a hideout in pitch black is that at first light, you could

find yourself in the middle of a housing estate.

The MSR was not a road like the M1, but a wide strip of sun-baked sand.

I saw the junction boxes straight away.

That gave us the landline.

But we had a problem.

Give us a hand, will you, mate?

It's gonna be a squirty one.

The battery of S60 is right on our doorstep.

We're gonna have to move.

Now?

No, we'll wait till dark.

Good news is I've located the landline.

Will you enjoy it, Baz?

No.

No problem.

Muscombe's plan comes into effect as of noon.

The hell he'll meet us tonight with a new one.

You're old enough to hump all the stuff back to the RV.

No, I will go.

Ray and his lot can stay here.

Did I hear you say you've seen the landline?

Yeah.

Dan, you can take the next day.

Hello here, Wax. This is Bravo 2-0. We are ground call sign.

Over.

From now on, we each carry our own shit.

Sounds like a thought for today.

This is Bravo 2-0. We are ground call sign. So why don't we cut it as soon as

it gets dark, and then piss off?

Without a radio, we're in the shit, mate.

This is gonna take a few days.

Let's have you with a heli, get a new one, then we'll crack on.

Hello here, watch.

This is Bravo 2-0.

We are ground call sign.

Over.

This is Bravo 2-0. We are ground call sign.

Over. Now, look.

Well, I'm sending okay, but I don't know if they're getting it.

We might have a bump frequency.

Meaning what?

Well, if they give us a new radio tonight, it still wouldn't work.

It's noon.

Lost comms plan comes into effect now at the base.

So do we go for the RV tonight or what?

We go for the RV.

It had to be Ray.

If it had been anyone else, Tony or Stan, he might have talked the kid down.

His own kids might love him.

But he'd never get a job playing Santa Claus.

Lovely piece of jockey, yeah?

Look at that. Look at that.

From the old country. Here you are.

Here. Come on.

Shit!

Why didn't we shoot him?

Number one, well, that's a definite compromise.

Two, if their boys get hold of us, we're not going to last five minutes.

And three, we're not into that anyway.

What's going on? He's legging it to the MSR.

There's a truck full of jundies broken down, bang in the middle.

Okay, Buzz, get on the guard net. Tell them in plain speech we have a

compromise. We're gonna head for the RV. Stan, get back on stage, mate.

Hello, Zero. Hello, Zero. This is Bravo 2-0.

Radio check. Over.

Hello, Zero. Hello, Zero. This is Bravo 2-0. Radio check. Over.

Hey, Ding.

There's an apostrophe in where?

As in what?

As in, we're in the shit.

Oh, yes.

LO0. LO0, this is Gravel 2-0. Radio check. Over.

All right, listen here.

We're going to follow the dead ground south to the RV.

If we make good distance now, we'll have the cover of darkness for the rest.

You leave all this shit here, just take your bergens.

I suppose a quick bruise out of the question.

Signal's kit.

Stopping my bergen.

Codes in me map pocket.

Medic kit.

Top of me bergen.

Pocket. Who's got the shiny thing? No, that's got it.

Forex, what's that?

Armour. Stand to!

Come on!

Stand to!

Man coming in!

It's a bulldozer.

I think he's lost, mate.

Lost? A sodding bulldozer lost?

Which way's he heading?

Over there, mate.

Okay, we wait till he's gone.

All right, let's get on with it.

Go west, young man, go west.

It's my clock ragged.

Well? The soldiers on the track just told him to piss off.

He's now heading for the guns.

We should have a union.

These hours are scandalous.

Yeah. The food's shit too.

We had to make the RV with the heli.

At least if we had a contact on the planes, we wouldn't be sitting targets.

Stand still!

Stand still!

Stand still!

Of course you're afraid.

Anyone who says they're not are either lying or need to see a shrink.

You want to make the biggest hole possible to hide in.

You'd get your spoon out and start digging if it'd help.

But then the training takes over. You site yourself open, check all your

pouches are closed, your pockets done up and your magazines are untied.

Come on, come on.

What's happening?

What's happening behind me, Tony?

I need to know. Talk to me, mate.

I can't see Jack's shit, but I can hear him. They're to your half right.

We're gonna go. We're gonna go.

Ready! Ready!

Ready! Ready!

Ready! You ready?

Shit.

You've got to move forward and take the fight to them.

It's the last thing they're expecting.

You're dead anyway, so anything you do is a bonus.

Now what?

Right.

We're gonna pick up our bergens.

We're gonna head west.

We've got about an hour till the last light.

We'll wait till it gets dark.

We'll sort our shit out.

Pass it on.

Back to the bergens.

Across to the MSR.

Across the MSR.

Once it gets dark, we double-bike.

Back to the Bergens!

For the next hour, we fought a running battle with the Jundas as they pursued

us across the plain.

Good here, ain't it?

Out!

Man down!

Man down!

Man down! Man down!

You all right, mate? Yeah. Come on.

Let's go.

Let's go!

Shit!

Present of the wife! Where's the bloody medicate?

The Bergens were binned.

We couldn't move quickly enough with them.

Our belt kits carried what we couldn't do without, water and ammo.

We could hear contacts in the distance.

Whoever they were firing at wasn't ours.

Did anybody see Stan go down?

No, mate.

OK,

three minutes, then we'll go back for him.

Go right! Go right!

You OK?

Christ.

I'm dehydrating.

I'm still wearing my thermals.

Here's a fix, mate.

Come on.

Shit.

It's a green one.

Give it here. I'll have it.

Here, Doctor.

I'm going to ask me.

What? How my herpes is getting on.

Bud, you got the radio on, mate?

No, we're shot to shit.

We've still got the tag videos.

Yes.

Let's call in the AWACS and get shut of this nonsense.

Chris, you got the medikit?

No.

But I saved me flask. Oh, great.

One of us takes a round, we'd be glad of a quick nip.

You OK?

Yeah. My leg's buggered.

I must have hurt it on a hill.

It's not broken.

Do you want me to have a look at it, mate?

No, keep moving. I'll be all right.

Take a look at it, Stan.

Come on.

Shit.

Baz, can you tag me? Yeah.

Yeah. Let's get in some air support.

Hello, Airwax.

This is Bravo 2-0.

We are a ground call sign.

Over. Any more link?

Yeah.

Hello, AWACS. This is Bravo 2-0. We are a ground call sign.

Over.

My imagination was getting cold.

Hello, AWACS. This is Bravo 2-0. We are a ground call sign.

I'll have a fix for you. Over.

or any call sign.

This is Bravo 2-0.

We are a ground call sign and need assistance.

Over.

Okay.

Options.

We either go for the heli RV or we head for Syria.

How far's the border?

A line of sight.

About 170 Ks, mate.

That's a hell of a long tab.

Don't worry about it, mate.

On the other hand, between us and the heli, there's a lot of pissed-off

people.

And even if we make the heli RV, it doesn't mean Harry will.

If there's one set of guns, there'll be more.

Many more.

So it's the border?

Yeah. Yeah.

Yeah. Yeah.

You up to it?

OK, Chris.

You go lead scout.

Then Stan and Ray.

I'll back them.

than the rest of you.

Okay, let's go.

Here, sit down, you guys.

We'd left the contact well behind and were looking good.

Then the weather changed.

Spring day in the UK, my arse. It was the worst this region had experienced in

30 years.

Aircraft! We're going to stop and try the tank bay.

We're gonna try the tank bay!

We're gonna try the tank bay!

Give me a fix, Mark!

Hello? Any callsign?

This is Bravo 2-0.

We're at ground callsign and we're in the shit.

Over.

This is Bravo 2-0.

We are a ground call side, and we are in the shit. Over.

Say again, Bravo 2-0. You're weak.

Turn back north.

Turn back north.

Over.

Hello? Any call side?

This is Bravo 2-0.

And Stan!

And Chris!

Where are they?

I told them to stop!

We tabbed all night, but never found Ray or the others.

I knew he was in shit state, and I should have checked that he'd passed the

message on.

I should have checked.

That night, we did 85K.

That's two marathons.

The only cover we could find stood out like a dog's bollocks.

This meant we'd live sign the moment we moved off.

But this was the least of our worries.

Mark was down with hypothermia.

Yeah, hypothermia in the desert.

Listen, mate.

You're not as cold as your body wants you to think.

I'm not?

No.

And what's more, you show none of the symptoms of hypothermia.

That's good, mate.

Tell me, am I hallucinating or is this now?

Barks to it.

I'm going to make a brew.

Not only are we freezing to death here, you've now decided to put a sign out

saying, here we are, come and get us.

What is it?

Coffee or hot chocolate?

Okay, mate.

Drink up.

We made it through last night. You ain't gonna fall down on me now.

You still thinking about Ray and his crew?

Well, don't.

They're big and ugly enough to sort themselves out.

Oh, shit.

Another bleeding shepherd.

And he's pinged us.

Looks like he's desperate for company.

I don't believe it. Where did they all come from?

Tony, you better go and talk to him.

My Arabic's shit.

Well, you've got about three and a half minutes to become really fluent.

Where is the market?

He's asking the way to Sainsbury's.

Still 70 k's to the border.

And we needed to make it by first light.

Because if the Iraqis didn't kill us, the weather was going to.

Make sure it's got a heater and a radio.

Anything else?

Yeah. Power steering.

Electric windows.

ABS.

CD player.

Mobile phone.

I don't believe this.

Please, please, don't shoot. What's happening?

We've been looking at the damn things all day.

Don't shoot, please. Don't shoot.

Please, please.

Please,

don't shoot. Look here.

Please, please.

Please. Please don't hurt my father. We are Christian. You see?

See?

Hear mostly.

Mike?

Cigarettes.

Cigarettes. Here. I'll give you cigarettes.

What's his fucking problem?

You are stealing his taxi.

What do you do with them? They'll live.

Pissed off.

They'll live.

Anybody know how to put these in there?

No. Forward.

No.

Down.

No. Up.

Baz.

Baz, give me some direction when we come to junctions, man.

Point me west.

How many k's to the border?

Thirty-five, mate.

We'll drive as far as we can.

We'll dump it and we'll cross up four.

You see?

Why didn't you list something like that, mate?

Oh, shut up, will you?

You were dying to write for Thermia an hour ago.

Bollocks, mate.

is small and covered with blackheads.

Nowadays I sleep with the ghosts.

They have much bigger penises and they're twice as intelligent.

to get that sign?

Baghdad welcomes careful drivers.

Did you know that Saddam Hussein is an anagram

of he's a sad nudist?

Where did the M go?

I swapped it for a T.

Can't do that.

Well, I just did.

That's not right.

Looks like some sort of checkpoint.

How far to the border, Mark?

Still waiting, mate.

Where do we stay, or do we go?

We're gonna go for that ridge on the left.

Okay?

It's about 11km, mate.

11km to the border.

As soon as he pings us.

We'll take the other two.

I'm going to tell you a story.

comes.

Is that the border?

That's it mate.

is

Centres. Heavy machine guns.

Trucks.

Military vehicles.

Put the whole fucking army there.

Oh.

We can make it.

Bollocks to this.

Oh, freezing!

The last one.

Ain't got none left, have you, mate?

It took Mark and me the best part of the night to work our

way through the Iraqi positions.

In all the confusion, we'd lost Tony, Baz and Dinger, but there was no time to

think about that.

We were low on ammo.

Soon the only weapon we'd have left would be the darkness, and that was

fading fast.

Only two Ks to go.

Four hours till last light and I could try again

Here!

Here!

Your name?

McNam. Rank?

Sergeant. Your unit?

Your unit.

I cannot answer that question.

You are an Israeli.

No, I'm British.

I'm just a British soldier. You are an Israeli.

You take me for a fool!

Can you tell me what you are doing here?

I'm a British soldier.

Just a British soldier.

You are an Israeli!

Once again, what is your name?

McNab.

Your rank?

Sergeant.

And your unit?

Under the Geneva Convention.

I'm afraid I can't answer that question.

in Geneva.

What is that?

It's gold.

Para.

Take it off.

Show me.

You like my English.

Yeah, it's very good.

Of course it is.

You think I'm stupid.

You think we're all stupid.

Please.

I want you to tell me what Israel is doing here.

Now. I'm sorry. I can't answer that.

What have you made?

Fucking out, ladies.

These coins are what?

Gold.

Gold sovereigns.

Why do you carry such wealth?

In case we need food.

It's bats of steel.

Quite so.

His boots were handmade, probably in London.

This boy had to be a rooper.

Your name is?

McNabb. Rank?

Sergeant. What do your friends call you?

Andy. Andy.

Perhaps you can help me.

Of course, we have captured the other members of your group.

What I need to know now, Andy, are you the same group that was discovered south

of here three days ago?

I'm trying to help you, Andy.

I don't understand it.

I'm trying to help, but...

You're confusing me.

I don't know jack shit.

Have you eaten recently?

No.

So, Andy, what was your unit doing in this part of the world?

Israeli? British?

Doesn't matter much to me.

For now.

However...

Both countries would not send men who know jack shit into their enemy's

territory.

You are special forces, Andy.

I understand that you are still doing your duty, and you must understand that

I have to do mine.

So, what was your task, Andy?

Please, don't insult me.

I don't even know where I am.

And the officers, they just ordered us to bow and not tell us anything.

I hate the army.

They didn't tell me I would have to do things like this.

I mean, I don't even know why we're at war.

Do you know who the White Sox are, Andy?

No.

are our secret police.

And their methods are far more brutal than ours.

So, I will ask you again.

What is your unit, and what were you doing in northern Iraq?

If you answer me truthfully, I will see what I can do to have you protected.

There is nothing more I can do to help you.

Whoever your god is, you need him now.

Who's fight?

Think I should have.

Your leg.

My favorite. What is it?

I make another just for you.

We're amongst Barbarians.

Did you see what happened to Tony?

No.

What about Baz?

Dead.

Hypothermia.

We had to cross the river.

But our idea was in a shit state, mate.

I compromised myself to the locals, hoping they'd help, but... It's too

late.

What about Mark?

He's dead, mate.

He took some rounds around the close-up.

How far did you get?

I was there.

You almost taste it.

No talk. Got a pen back. Yeah, yeah, OK, mate.

Come on, get up!

Get up!

Scared shitless.

Well, at least I can't make us pregnant.

Are you sitting comfortably?

Andy, isn't it?

Yes.

How are you feeling?

I think I need medical attention.

And my friend also.

Of course.

We are not animals.

But first...

You will tell us what you are doing in our country.

I'm trying to help you.

You are not helping us at

all, Andy.

Tell me the plans of the Israelis, Andy.

I've told you.

I'm not an Israeli.

There's nothing you can do about pain.

You've just got to accept it.

But it's great when your body says that's enough and starts to drift you

off into unconsciousness.

I can prove I'm not an Israeli.

How?

Because I have a foreskin.

A what, Andy?

A foreskin.

Jews are circumcised. It's part of their religion.

Let me show you.

I pulled as hard as I could which was difficult

due to the cold.

So, Andy, now you will tell me, huh?

What was your mission?

And what else are the British planning to do?

We might be captured, but we still had a job to do.

The regiment needed time to carry out damage limitation.

They'd have to assume the worst, that we'd been captured and told the Iraqis

everything. Other operations would have to be cancelled or changed.

Queen and country, that's bullshit.

Shall we start again, Andy? No.

So, Andy, tell us.

I'm a... I'm a member of a search and rescue team.

And what do you do, Andy?

We rescue damn pilots.

I'm a medic.

A medic?

And what was your mission on this occasion?

I don't know.

The officer knew.

They operate on a need-to-know basis.

I need to know.

They don't tell us anything.

They just tell us to get on a heli, the helicopter.

Good, Andy.

Now you will eat.

Then we will talk some more.

Thank you.

And my friend?

Yes, yes.

But first, you will sign the paper for the Red Cross, so they know you are all

right.

I can't.

The army, they will punish me if you ever send me home.

I tried to find God.

I begged him to help us and said as much of the Lord's Prayer as I could

remember.

Nothing happened.

Manchester United win, huh? Very good team, huh? You look very happy now. You

look very happy.

You're in a terrible state, Andy.

How are your teeth?

Are they still giving you some problems?

Broken.

We have a dentist here.

He worked in guys for nine years.

One of the best.

You really think we're going to help you?

You are irrelevant to us.

You lied to us.

You are the men from the south, aren't you?

You're stupid.

Stupid. I'm helping you all I can, but... I'm just a medic.

How many medics, Andy? Leave 100 men dead.

Another 100 in the hospital.

Tell me what your task was.

Tell me.

Tell me!

I told you I don't know anything about that.

I'm a medic. Please.

Please.

I need him on his back.

He don't mean it. Fuck it! Do it!

Do it!

Why are you getting me into trouble?

I asked you for an answer yesterday.

Do you have it for me?

Yes, sir.

Turncoats for the opera.

Five letters.

T-O-S-Z-A.

Tasker.

You and your friends will not last much longer.

We have orders in the hospital.

You know that, Andy?

Look, you are the senior rank here.

Huh?

No one knows you are alive.

We can let you die, and no one would know.

Your government, they do not care about you.

To them, you are just a tool to be used.

Andy.

If you do not tell me who you are and what you are doing, we will simply let

the others die.

Think about it, Andy.

This was not a black and white film where the actor sticks out his chest and

shouts, never.

This was real.

We'd all fulfilled our obligations to operational security.

It was now time to fulfill our obligations to each other.

This is disgusting.

What are you doing that for?

Well, the window was open, so I threw it out.

I've opened the window because you're killing me with those fakes.

Sorry, I see shit and I have to react.

What's this?

A jam?

Don't even think about it, don't you?

A jam again?

Closing the window.

Clash?

Sex business.

It's your waddy waddy.

That's not right.

Sorry, your old tank collection is contaminated.

Unbelievable.

A what?

Close observation platoon.

Every infantry unit has one.

We closely observe what's going on.

In this case, it was the MSR.

MS? R.

The men's supply room.

We had to report some movements there.

It was just a patrol put together for the job.

Tell me what happened.

A shepherd walked into our position.

So we had to get out.

So you headed north?

For Syria.

It was the only way out.

How did you get in?

A helicopter.

Show me.

What I'd told him was a good story and almost true.

I simply left out words like scud and the regiment.

I had nothing to lose.

Chances were we were dead anyway.

It was now a question of waiting to see if they'd believe me.

They left me alone for the next few days, just working on Dinger and Stan.

They wanted to confirm my story.

I would soon find out if it had worked out or not.

I wasn't afraid.

I was depressed.

I thought of Gillian Kaye not even knowing if I was alive or dead.

I thought we were going to do it and let's just crack on and make it quick.

No bloody calls.

No decent maps.

No bloody backup.

Can't even get the weather right.

No, me sweet to green.

Green for Christ's sake.

I hate bloody green.

Bueno lazo.

Back in Rhodesia, there's this tree called the Merida tree, right? The next

few days were relatively happy.

All we could do was talk about families, life, and each other.

He was dinger on God.

I don't believe in the old bastard.

On his family.

He had the most god-awful round the night before we left.

Still hurts when I think about it.

On me?

Ain't really apes.

That's who you are.

31 and already you've got three wives. Now, what's your excuse?

Adoption, mate.

Never knew my mother.

Well, that explains everything, does it? Your taste in music, your appalling

clothes. Why did you join the army?

What?

Why did you join the army?

To keep our trouble.

So you thought if you joined up, there'd be no more trouble?

Best thing I ever did.

Never been in trouble since.

What the bloody hell do you call this?

It's crazy like a fool.

What about daddy cool?

Daddy, daddy cool.

Daddy, daddy cool.

What about daddy cool?

Hansan. Andy, do you like Michael Jackson?

Yeah, I do.

Did you know I sing in a group here in the city?

Play every Saturday night.

Play at the Meridian Hotel.

No, I don't believe you.

Why?

Don't you like my voice?

Daddy, daddy cool.

Will you show me London, Andy, after the war?

Yeah, sure.

Andy, I love you.

Do you love me?

Yes, Gerald.

Hands, Andy.

Pissed off sucking up to that little wanker for your face.

I promise I will never divulge what you two get up to.

Had to lick shit off me hands for them. Quit honking.

I'm saving one of these for the firing squad.

Can't be long now.

Do you really think it's gonna be like breaking my ranch?

Dawn Sky, Chaplin, Last Fag.

Instead of bend over, bang, straight into a bin liner.

We weren't shot.

Not that week, not the following.

And apart from the chance of being blown apart by the bombs that were tearing the

arse out of the city, we slowly began to believe that we might just get out in

one piece.

A report team from Syria inform us that a British soldier crossed the border in

the area where you were captured.

They say in Damascus.

That is SAS.

Are they treating you well?

Stan, Dinger.

You are going home.

Not Andy.

Not Andy.

Not Andy.

Don't worry, mate. We'll get you out of here.

Yeah, I'll call Jelly, mate.

Here, catch.

This was the worst time for me.

Why'd they keep me behind, except to shoot me?

Dying didn't worry me, but I'd taken it for granted that we were all going to go

together.

I kept seeing my own funeral back in Hereford, with Dinger smoking all the

way through the service.

And when the colonel had said what a good soldier I'd been, Dinger would have

shouted, wanker.

Then he'd have gone to the mess and drank the £500 of booze I'd paid for the

last piss-up.

And then I got to thinking about Kate.

And by first light, she'd made me feel more composed.

The Iraqi conscripts seemed to deserve pity rather than anger.

200,000 of them gave themselves up. All they want to do is go home to their

families. They are war-weary and have no spirit left for the battle.

The road north from Kuwait to the Iraqi port of Basra showed the cruel reality.

The highway littered with the burnt-out, smashed remains of vehicles the Iraqis

stole in Kuwait.

Saddam promised them glory, but they've lost interest.

As far as I'm concerned, it's over.

Saddam Hussein had better know it's over.

If Saddam Hussein makes the mistake of starting it again, then he's going to

have a lot more trouble than he has on his hands in Iraq right now.

No! No!

My foot.

This thing, they handcuffed me to a bed and left me to rot.

Mark.

Can you see it?

What?

My foot, mate.

How can I miss it? It's the size of a marrow.

bugged me ever since we landed in Saudi.

A piece of breeze block. Yeah?

One in my Bergen.

Yeah.

Did you have anything to do with it?

Yeah.

It's my sweet.

What colour is it, mate?

It was green.

But I guess you can't have everything.

Back in the UK, we had an outrageous piss-up.

Then the psychiatrist turned up to test us, looking for signs of post-traumatic

stress disorder.

Turned out they were more strung out than we were.

War is barbaric.

But if you're thinking this is the bit where I say I want to spend the rest of

my days hugging trees, don't hold your breath.

We're soldiers.

It's my profession and I'm proud of it.

Nobody said you had to be crap at it.

As for the men who tortured us, they had a job to do as well.

It's just that some of them enjoyed it a bit too much.

If I met any of them in the street tomorrow and thought I could get away

with it, I'd slot them.