Original subtitles

(cheerful music)

♪ I like a song ♪

♪ With a skippity beat ♪

♪ With a melody ♪

(chatter drowns out music) (liquid pouring)

(men laughing)

♪ The kind of a tune you can tap with your feet ♪

(music fades behind chatter) (waves crashing)

(men chattering)

♪ That little thing ♪

♪ When it's right, let it ring ring ♪

♪ It's so easy to sing ♪

♪ The whole world is waiting for a musical treat ♪

♪ With a skip skip skippity beat ♪

(whimsical music resumes)

- My, what a strange boy you are.

- Why?

- Tell me what do the poets have to say about fate?

- I don't know about the poets,

but I'm quite sure there's no such thing.

- So certain.

- What an absolute bore that would be.

To have no say over the conditions of one's own life.

- With all these boys here,

why else would I come to you today, besides fate?

- Isn't it obvious?

- Nothing about you is obvious.

♪ With a skippity beat ♪

♪ Skippity beat ♪

- Can I get you a drink?

♪ Skippity beat ♪

♪ Skippity skippity skippity skippity beat ♪

(planes whirring overhead)

(gentle dramatic music)

(birds chirping outdoors)

(pen scribbling) (dramatic music resumes)

(dramatic music resumes)

(letter clattering)

(man coughs) (deep rumbling)

(dramatic music resumes) (distant explosions)

(plane whirring)

(men yelling, scattering)

(train chugging) (people yelling)

(distant muffled explosions) (gate bangs)

- [Gordon] My darling boy.

Last night, I lay awake thinking about this time last year.

The wind in your hair, the sound of the sea,

that blue book of poetry.

The longer we're apart,

the more I believe it wasn't a fluke

that we ended up together on that boat, on that day.

How far away that seems now.

The news today sounds pretty bad,

with the Germans in Paris.

I only wish I knew half the truth

about what was going on. (distant explosions, yelling)

For one thing, I hear so many lads whom I knew

who have been killed.

I'm writing from the underground,

where we've had to take shelter.

Where are you, darling?

I anxiously await for the postman in the early morning.

And then when he doesn't bring anything from you,

I just exist.

A mass of nerves, trying to keep my spirits up

with the faint hope that there will be news from you.

(people yelling) (large explosions)

(dramatic music) (distant explosions)

I am so terribly lonely.

I hate being without you in a time

that I need you the most.

(distant bombs exploding) (men chatter in background)

I am a damned fool, I suppose,

but I just get more and more in love with you every day.

(gentle music) (birds chirping)

I was walking through the park this morning,

and I thought of that final frenzied weekend

together in Devon.

As I chased the dawn,

and watched the light filter through the trees,

everything seemed to fade away, except for you.

How free it felt to be with you.

I close my eyes and I can see

the way the light played on your face.

I smell summer and flowers

lingering on your skin.

I think about these details,

but nothing feels as significant

as the memory of holding you,

and regretting that I ever had to let you go.

The war has taken so much,

but it gave us that weekend.

I believe we are far more tightly bound together

than either of us have realized.

And the longer I live,

the more I believe we are quite different

from all the other queer people.

Our love is complete,

and is unlike the others.

It grows stronger,

instead of diminishing.

(gentle dramatic music resumes)

The rest of the world has no conception

of what our love is.

They regard it as nothing more than friendship.

They do not and can never know

that every fiber of my being

cries out for you all the time.

If I am with you, or if I am thousands of miles away,

I long for you just as much.

Darling, I am so afraid that this war

will take you away from me.

(intense explosion)

(repeated explosions) (people yelling)

(rapid gunfire) (people yelling)

(noise cuts abruptly)

(metal door clicks, creaks open)

(people chattering)

- [Man] Everyone alright down there?

- We're saved.

- [Man] We're getting the lights back on.

Sir, are you alright? (suspenseful music)

Sir?

(voice muffled by music)

(waves crashing)

♪ It's bright and it's breezy ♪

- [Gordon] To dream as I do,

of those summer nights at Salcombe,

the moonlight on the sea,

and the gentle flapping of the waves

against the waterlogged sides of the old Merlin.

How far away we seemed then

from the rest of the world.

Darling, I need you beside me,

to feel your hand holding mine,

my eyes gazing into yours, (gentle dramatic music)

and then I should know

that there is something worth carrying on for.

(car rumbles, honks horn)

- I'll miss my train.

- Then miss your train,

there will be another.

- I'll see you soon enough.

It's just a matter of time.

- It's not only a matter of time.

Wouldn't it be wonderful

if all of our letters

could be published in the future,

in a more enlightened time?

(dramatic music resumes)

Then all of the world could see how in love we are.

Forever, darling.

Yours, G.

(dramatic music resumes)

(lighter clicking) (flame roars)

(dramatic music resumes)

(Gilbert shivers) (dramatic music resumes)

(gentle music)