Original subtitles

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING ON CAR STEREO)

-George. -Hi, Hugh.

-I've brought Robert. -Nice to see you.

(MEN CHATTERING)

(HELICOPTER PROPELLORS WHIRRING)

(EXPLOSIONS)

(GUNS FIRING)

-Thank you. -Thank you.

ROBERT: I was conscious all the time. I never, ever lost consciousness.

HUGH: You were bloody lucky.

No, I mean, the pilot disobeyed orders when he heard we had wounded.

He'd been in the Scots Guards at Kalasin, got the DFC.

Light helicopters are very vulnerable.

I'm sure we lost a lot of helicopters to small arms fire.

You were extremely lucky.

-Would you like some more shepherd's pie? -I'd love some. Starving.

-The way he drives terrifies me. -That's another story, driving.

-It's a marvellous car, Robert. What is it? -Panther.

-It isn't a car. It's a statement. -It is, really. It's a damn good car, as well.

I wouldn't mind if you didn't smack me in the chops with your left arm

-every time you're forced to brake. -It's called clonus.

Only happens when I'm scared. You have to be ready to duck.

-Halt! -Escort to the Keys!

Halt! Who goes there?

YEOMAN WARDER: The Keys!

-Whose Keys? -Queen Elizabeth's Keys!

Pass, Queen Elizabeth's Keys. All's well!

Escort to the Keys by the centre, quick march!

-Left, right. Left... -Left wheel.

Escort to the Keys, halt!

Guard and escort, present arms!

(PLAYING THE LASTPOST)

God preserve Queen Elizabeth!

ALL: Amen!

NEWSREADER: The bands of the Royal Marines and the Parachute Regiment

played their regimental marches.

At 8:00, the last mooring rope was cast off and Canberra was ready to sail.

The liner's crew, civilians who volunteered to sail with her, threw down streamers,

while the families of those who'll fight, if fighting becomes necessary,

waved a patriotic farewell.

TV ANNOUNCER: Sailing with Canberra, and reporting to both the BBC and ITV,

is Jeremy Hand, who saw the final preparations on board.

HAND: Right up to the moment of departure, stores were still being taken aboard the Canberra.

(CLAMOURING)

Come on!

ANNOUNCER ON TV: ...sailed from Southampton after several...

-Cheers, Mr Lawrence, sir. -Cheers to you, Sergeant.

Was Sophie there, Daddy?

-Yes, she was. -She thought she wouldn't come up.

-What was it like tonight, Drill Sergeant? -Not bad, sir.

When it's bad, it's very, very bad.

When it's not bad, it's brilliant.

(ALL CHUCKLE)

I know it's coming,

but when the sentry challenges in broad Scots, ''Halt! Who goes there?''

-I always jump out of my skin. -That was Prothero tonight.

He's not a Scot, he just puts on the voice for public duties.

NEWSREADER ON TV: ...morale aboard is incredibly high. There seem to be no long faces.

The men are obviously looking forward to what they're heading into.

Look at them. Paras.

Look at them. Marines.

...transferring men to and from the ships.

Whole world could go to war and we'd be as likely to go as walk on the moon.

But this second helicopter landing is not just...

-Public duties. -They'll be back. They'll nae finish it.

Tickets. Twice around the islands and away back. That's what will occur, sir.

ROBERT: Bloody paras. Look at that one with his beret over his eyes.

A real tom, that one.

-A maroon machine. -Aye, well,

it'll all be over when they get down there, sir. And very, very cold.

(GUN FIRING)

I know you don't like smoking, Hugh has told me, but would you mind?

No, please.

The first to be killed, one of them.

-I wasn't there, it was before... -Got him straight between the eyes.

Drill sargeant, you see.

So well balanced on his feet that he didn't fall braced, they tell me.

-Nobody knew he'd been hit. -That's crap.

-Well, that's what I was told. -You fall, Hugh. I did.

That's what I was told.

When I have to go, I have to go awfully fast. That's another thing.

GEORGE: Yes, of course. Let me show you.

It wasn't until he lifted his left hand up onto the table

that I really thought about him being paralysed.

Oh, yes, he is. The whole of his left side, basically.

I swore he was dead when I saw him.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING ON WALKMAN)

-Pongo! -Can you hear?

I can't hear what it is, sir!

Dire Straits!

Madness!

You warring bugger!

OFFICER: Get a fucking move on! Come on! Come on! Come on!

Get a bloody move on! Come on! Come on! Come on!

In three ranks! Move! Move! Three ranks!

Mark up!

Morning.

OFFICER: Move! Move! Three ranks! Right, mark up!

-Mr MacKessac, did someone check your dress? -Yes, of course, sir. Mr Lawrence.

Next time, Mr Lawrence, do it properly.

You, MacKessac.

OFFICER: One pace forward.

As soon as I can, I will.

Yes, of course I'm still doing public duties. Yeah.

-Robert is leaving us. -Really?

-Coffee, please. -ROBERT: Yeah.

1 4 Intelligence Company want him.

-What do they do? -Not allowed to know, Peter.

-Not allowed to know. -ROBERT: Thank you.

It'll be under the turf in Armagh, I should think, or under a dirty mackintosh.

That's right.

-Well, why would he want to? -Oh, he wants to do everything.

-Jungle warfare... He's done it all. -ROBERT: Right.

He is, despite appearances, a real action man, is Bobby.

(RINGS OFF)

Do they want you?

-They wouldn't want you. -I wouldn't want them.

Far too dangerous.

# Am I going, going strong?

-Come on! -ALL: # One, two, three, four

# One, two, three, four!

# Ain't no sense in looking down

# Ain't no sense in looking down

# Ain't no discharge on the ground

# Ain't no discharge on the ground

# Am I right or am I wrong?

You're right!

# Sound off # One, two

# Sound off # Three, four #

-Did Louise say anything? -Haven't you spoken to her?

Well, she knew were going to call in on the way to Shropshire.

Yes, but she did say she mightn't be here in time.

She isn't.

I do find Robert fascinating. I find it all fascinating.

-You've not talked much about it, Hugh. -Oh, I have, George.

I do nothing else.

Perhaps not.

(GUNS FIRING)

-Has anyone thought of packing sloe around it? -Nobody's had time.

-Get him under cover, come on! -His arm, careful.

-Help me. Watch this leg. -Pick him up, quickly!

(EXPLOSION)

-Gently, fucking, gently! -Gently.

(ALL CLAMOURING)

SOLDIER 1 : Go right! SOLDIER 2: Get away from there!

(MISSILE WHISTLING)

The buggers think I'm dead.

The buggers think I'm dead.

The buggers think I'm dead. The buggers think I'm dead.

The buggers think I'm dead. The buggers think I'm dead.

# Ain't no discharge on the ground

ALL: # Ain't no discharge on the ground

# Am I right, or am I wrong?

ALL: You're right!

# Am I going, going strong? #

ALL: You're right!

(SOLDIERS CONTINUING CHANT)

-Not quite Brigade of Guards, sir? -No.

But it's all right.

OFFICER: # Look out, fat lads, we're coming through

ALL: # Look out, fat lads, we're coming through #

What's your platoon doing, Hugh?

Boots, sir.

I thought boots.

The Major General is very hot on boots this year,

I'm told by a grenadier

of his acquaintance.

You see, I hate cripples. Always have done. And I will not be one.

That's what they don't seem to understand. I will not be a cripple.

It isn't just my leg, my hand.

Sometimes I don't always get there in time. Well, did this time, though, you'll be glad to know.

Show them the photographs, Robert.

-Think I ought to? -You always do.

I don't think I should. I don't think Helen should see them.

They make people faint.

We made this pact, Hugh and I,

that he shoot me, I'd shoot him, if anything ghastly happened.

-Maimed or anything. -Why didn't you?

Too many people round, I suppose. And anyway, he spoke to me.

What did I say?

You always ask me that.

Some rubbish about being cold. We were all bloody cold.

-I think I was very near colder than most. -Yes, you've said that before, too.

Well, come on, Hugh, what did I say?

You said, ''Tell Sophie I love her.''

I don't remember it, but that's what you say you said.

Where are the sleeping bag liners?

Every platoon should carry two extra for the cold.

The casualties will be...

(GRUNTS)

Can't use morphine

for a head wound.

(SOLDIERS CLAMOURING)

Can't get a helicopter, I'm hit too close. 'Cause I'm hit too close.

Where's the helicopter?

That's the one, Sergeant, that done for Mr Lawrence.

(SOLDIERS YELLING)

-Ought you not to be sleeping, Robert? -Piss off, Tug.

-We're going to the Falklands, Tug. -I know, but it is very late for you, Robert.

-For you, if you are leaving early. For you, Robert... -And what about Hugh?

I don't care about Hugh. It is you. We don't care about Hugh, do we, Mandy?

-Doesn't stop looking at you, does he? Hugh. -No.

My dear Bobby.

Why don't you care about Hugh?

-You come to us long before Hugh. -I do... Did! Did.

God, I am drunk, Tug.

I really am drunk, to be honest. Basically, pissed.

Yeah, I know, but don't fight.

-How wide is this staircase, Tug? -TUG: Wide?

Is it wide enough for a wheelchair?

I don't know. How wide is a wheelchair?

-Oh, don't be morbid! -But it is essential that we know, Tug.

My friend, Hugh, must know, will we get it down the stairs?

Have you got a tape measure, Tug?

-Well, how wide are wheelchairs? -Well, basically about that wide.

A bum's width, because of their purpose, basically.

Look, get the tape measure, Tug. We need specification.

Where is Sophie, Vanessa? Phyllida, where is she?

HUGH: You'll never do it.

Tug, this may be the last time

that Robert ever visits this establishment as a full man.

Stop them, Tug, I don't like it.

If... When I...

Will you shoot me, Hugh? Basically.

And you are my friend. I ask you.

-Will you do the same for me? -No. Shut up.

Listen, of course. Listen, I'm talking about me when I'm maimed,

mutilated, my dick shot off, whatever, you must promise to finish me off.

-Yeah. -No, promise.

TUG: This is going too far!

-Just calm down, will you, Bobby. Just shut up. -Promise!

All right, I promise, damn you.

There's nothing I would like better than to blow your bloody brains out.

Get out. I've had enough. Out of here, please.

-Please. -All right, Tug, I'm going.

That's all I wanted to know.

-Where is Sophie, then, eh, Robert? -Haven't seen her in weeks.

That man is not your friend, Robert.

Yes, he is, Tug. And he'll do it.

-To be honest, he'll do what I tell him. -That's enough.

-Hi, Robert. -Hello.

They've gone.

-Hugh, Vanessa, Phyllida, all the crowd. -I know, I saw them.

Robert, I'm sorry about the last few weeks.

-Been hectic, have they? -Sort of.

Oh, just sort of.

I knew you'd be here.

Good.

Last night, you know.

Last night.

(MEN CHEERING)

(BAGPIPER PLAYING SCOTLAND THE BRA VE)

(HORN HONKING)

-Hey, Pongo! -Don't call me Pongo!

(SNARLS)

Fuck you!

(ALL SINGING)

-Sir. -Colonel, sir.

Mr Fyshe.

-Have you seen Mr Lawrence? -He's around, sir.

Quite where?

Sergeant Brodick, everything okay?

-Mr Lawrence. Is that his rifle? -Sir?

Sir.

Sergeant Brodick, this is serious. Have you actually seen Mr Lawrence?

No, sir, I've not.

Who's got a car?

-Charles, have you seen Robert? -No.

-Harry! -Hugh, have some champagne!

Listen, come here. Robert hasn't shown up.

-Where is he? -I don't bloody know.

There's his orderly walking about with two rifles.

-Home, I suppose. -Come on.

-OFFICER: Mr MacKessac, rifle. -Mr MacKessac, sir.

(CAR APPROACHING)

(BANGING)

-Come on, Robert, get up. We're late. -Hello.

Come on, get your clothes on. Get into your clothes.

Okay, come on, put your trousers on.

-Come on, get it together. -What time is it?

-HUGH: He'll take you car home. -Keys.

HUGH: Come on!

Hello. We haven't met.

-I'm Harry Hebers, Grenadier Guards. -I'm Sophie Martin-Wells. Hello.

All right, boys? Sergeant Brodick.

Saltemarsh.

Fraser.

O'Rourke.

Pongo.

Lumpy.

Aye, sir.

At least I saw Sophie.

We all saw Sophie.

(CHUCKLES)

SOLDIER: The assault on Mount Tumbledown is confirmed.

As we expected, the battalion will move to grid reference, uh...

29571 5, which is Goat Ridge.

Then, when Two Sisters has been taken,

we will move as a battalion from the saddle to Tumbledown Mountain,

at grid reference 325722,

fight along the ridge of the mountain until we stop,

and then the 1st 7th Gurkha Rifles will take over,

and bat on to take Mount William through us. Right.

-Thank you, Peter. -Glad you caught the bus?

Chaps.

Sergeant Brodick!

Sergeant Brodick!

(GRUNTING)

He's breathing again, but he'd gone into convulsions.

-Get him to the tents. -O'Rourke, Prothero, get your arses over here!

Oh, fuck.

(GRUNTING)

-We've got to get him inside. -Right.

Oh, fuck!

(CHOKING)

(COUGHING)

I cannae feel his heart. There's nae breathing, sir. Let me.

No!

He's all right. That did it. Now get him under cover.

Fuck!

(VOMITTING)

Oh, fuck!

You rotten bastard, Saltemarsh.

(DOG WHIMPERING)

What's the matter with you, you silly dog?

What's the matter with you?

(SHUSHING) Nobody's going to hurt you. You're all right.

Shh. Don't make so much noise.

(EXPLOSIONS)

(MISSILE WHISTLING)

You do well, Robert. Take care of yourself.

ROBERT: Just here. I've been waiting for four hours.

You thought I was going to die.

You're taking my boots off.

Is that strictly necessary? They were my Northern Ireland boots.

It's bloody cold waiting out there in the corridor.

All right.

Can't get the live pins out of them, even when you want to.

Need a pair of pliers.

Everybody should carry a tiny pair of pliers.

The last straw. This is my SAS knot. Let me take it off. I can take it off. Please.

-I want it. I took that from an... -It's all right.

Robert, is it? It's all right. You can have it back later.

Talk to Lawrence Tustain about it. He'll let you have it back.

It's loaded but not made ready.

Thank God somebody knows his job.

I see the point of keeping me waiting. I'm more likely to die.

Get the others done first. I see their point totally.

-What are you doing? -Just cleaning you up. That's all.

Bits of your beret, things like that.

Then we'll close you up, send you off to the Uganda.

Be warmer there.

What about the pain?

DOCTOR: Well, they might give you something on Uganda. See how you go.

Be warmer, that's the main thing.

Warmer.

(YELLING IN SPANISH)

(SCREAMING)

(CHOKING)

MAN: Somebody help us, quickly!

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Hello, Robert, my friend. Good news for you.

There is a ceasefire. It's virtually all over, my friend.

Alistair.

There's one of my boys here.

Prothero. He's worse than me.

You go and talk to him, Alistair.

-Tell him it's over. -It is over, Robert.

I assure you.

(SOBBING) They won't let me sleep, Alistair.

Keep waking me up.

It's like...

To be honest, it's like survival training.

Resistance to interrogation.

Sensory deprivation every half hour.

-I don't know what day it's called. -Today is Monday.

Is it?

Good.

Good, I'm glad it's over.

My boys won't have to go on now without me.

We've done it.

(APPLAUSE)

How much have you been told about Robert, Wing Commander?

Do you want to sit down?

No, I'll stand.

We weren't told he was wounded even, for two days.

His brother, Christopher, was told that there was a casualty signal,

but that Robert wasn't on it.

Then Christopher went to the battalion orderly room, saw a signal.

I saw it, too.

Terry Knapp dead, Robert...

Gunshot wound to the head.

Just a nick, so they thought. Said.

(STAMMERING) I'll sit down, if you don't mind.

Please do.

He's very seriously ill, but stable.

On his way home.

(EXPLOSIONS ON TV)

(SCREAMING ON TV)

Hey, get this damn, silly film off.

SOLDIER ON TV: Unbelievable!

(CAN'TSTOP THE MUSICTHEME PLAYING)

(SOLDIERS GROANING)

(GROANING)

Oh, God.

Look out,

I'm just about to have my first shit since Tumbledown.

Nurse, get a bedpan. He's about to shit on me!

(ALL LAUGHING)

(GROANS)

(DOG WHIMPERING)

Silly dog. Listen to him.

Tommy, shut up.

I find it difficult to believe your father heard Robert calling to him the night of the battle.

Can you believe it? I don't.

Do you, John?

Yes.

Why didn't I, if your father did?

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

-ROBERT: Hello? Hello? -Hello? Hello? It's Robert. Robert?

(DISTORTED)

-Hello? Hello? -Yes, I think so, spud.

They tried to chop my bloody head off! Hello?

Well, Daddy, I'm going to be at Brize Norton in the morning.

We are booked into there tomorrow.

The day after, but early, very early!

Yeah, yes. Yes, yes, of course.

Yes. Brize Norton.

-Robert? Hi, Robert. How are you? -It's tomorrow. Very early.

-Not very well. -It can't be. Why...

-Brize Norton tomorrow, very early. -Yeah. All...

-I'll talk to you tomorrow. Bye, Mummy. -Goodbye, darling.

(RINGS OFF)

ROBERT: I just wish I hadn't made that phone call.

-GEORGE: Why? -It made me different.

There was this para in the bunk underneath, real tom.

And he said, ''You don't want me to call you 'sir', now, do you?'' I didn't. We were all the same.

We were all ill, very ill. But we were allowed to smoke, it's something.

And when I went for the first time since I crapped myself in Tumbledown, it was hilarious.

I don't want Hugh ringing Louise. Do you think he is?

Poor old Hugh, I don't know how he manages.

Hasn't been easy for me, but I always was a real military shit.

Poor Hugh. It was quite an experience for him, too.

I'm glad you realise that, Bobert. Wasn't all covering ourselves in glory, you know.

The war didn't end when you pissed off.

Some of us had to spend the rest of the day and night on that sodding mountain.

There you are. Glad I didn't.

-I'm afraid he isn't on this one, either. -But we have come all the way from Wales again.

Yes, I know. I'm very sorry. As soon as we find out why, I'll let you know.

I don't want to know why. I just want to see my son.

I'm sorry. Please wait here. I'll come back to you.

-Is my son on that plane? -Yes, he is, sir.

-Well, can we see him? -It isn't going to be likely. I'm sorry, it just isn't.

-He is on the plane. -Yes, he is.

Yes, Mrs Lawrence, he is there. They're being taken to hospital, you can see him there.

I'm sorry. He is on the plane.

-Why did we come to Brize Norton? -People weren't told to come to Brize Norton.

-We were told to. -Yes. If you'll wait here. I think you ought to.

One of your lot kept standing on my arm on the plane. Clumsy idiot.

Good job I'm paralysed.

Your parents are here. They'll see you at Broughton.

(KNOCKING ON GLASS)

Get the car, Flopsy. Get me away from here.

ROBERT: Home.

You can work it. Just let them take me home.

Yes.

-Hello, John. -Oh, Peter.

I've been to see Robert.

-Hello, Jean. -Hello, Peter.

Well, now, he's being made comfortable, but we can go to see him now, so...

-Please, Jean. It's through here. This way. -Oh, good.

Yes, straight through.

John, the colonels aren't very happy about him, I have to tell you. Now you have to know...

-Know what? -If he should go, while you're talking to him...

-Do keep an eye on Jean. -What do you mean?

(STAMMERING) I'll get to you.

It's all right.

It's this way.

John, Robert's over here.

-(BREATHING HEAVILY) Hello, Mummy. -Hello, darling.

Daddy, it wasn't worth it.

-It was, spud. It was. -It wasn't.

They're all dead.

All my boys.

All my boys.

All my guardsmen.

Prothero.

Lumpy.

Sergeant Brodick.

Baines.

Saltemarsh.

He got it with the Galahad.

I saved him, kiss of life,

and then they got him on the Galahad.

All dead.

-No, not all, spud. -Lumpy, Prothero, Sergeant Brodick...

(SHUSHING) Robert.

ROBERT: No, I led them into it, basically, and it wasn't worth it. It isn't.

-They're all dead. Every man... -No, not all.

Not all. I've seen the casualty returns.

-Let me assure you. -No.

No, all dead.

All dead, Mummy.

Prothero.

Lumpy.

-JOHN: Robert, please... -Baines.

-Richards. Baines... -Robert, Robert. Robert, please.

Listen...

-I know they're not all dead. -Where's Pongo? Dead.

Let me show you.

-John. -Peter.

Excuse me.

Hello, Sergeant.

Mummy.

It wasn't worth it.

Oh, I know it wasn't, Robert, but you're home now.

Mr Lawrence, sir.

Your platoon status, sir.

Colour Sergeant, how are you?

Well...

Well, they'll take care of him.

Spoke to Lloyd, though.

You know Cadet Cramner.

You remember him.

God, I'm proud of Robert.

Yes.

It wasn't worth it.

Did you hear him say that?

He's done magnificently.

Spoke to one of his boys, Fraser. What time is it?

Yeah.

Wasn't worth it.

Fraser said,

''You should've seen him, sir, Mr Lawrence.

''He was there blazing away with two rifles, sir.

''Just like the films, sir.

''True Grit.

''He was terrific, sir.''

-God, he's done well. -Yes.

Aren't you proud of him?

Yes, I am.

HUGH: I had the two bloody rifles.

ROBERT: I don't know where you bloody got them from, if you did.

HUGH: Well, you don't know much, anyway. ROBERT: Say that again.

I had the two rifles.

Well, why not three? You could carry one rammed up your arse?

-Well, you can't do much with two rifles, anyway. -I did.

-So you say. -I don't say it. It was Fraser who said it.

You'd better be very quiet if you don't want to see them.

I would rather you didn't anyway, Louise. Just be quiet.

HUGH: I'll tell you one thing, I didn't see any acts of bravery worth mentioning.

And that includes you, Peg Leg.

I suppose your parents were worried, too, weren't they, Hugh?

Oh, worried sick, I suppose.

ROBERT: Sophie's smiling.

How are you feeling?

ROBERT: Christopher's going to cry.

-No, I... -I do the crying.

I do the bloody crying.

Sophie,

I'm going to be all right.

Soon as they've pushed my brain back and stitch me up.

Keeps...

-I can't see it. -Listen, it's going to be all right.

I keep thinking it's all over the pillow, my brain.

-They don't give me anything to eat. -It's because of the operation.

It is all over the pillow.

-Look at him. He's gonna cry. -No, I...

No.

I am starving, you know.

When you've had the op...

How's Daddy taking it?

Oh, you know him. Ringing everybody, everybody he was in the RAF with.

-Make sure you're getting everything. -Make sure?

I wish I could have a proper piss.

I can't do it properly. They won't let me smoke, you see.

They won't!

-Stop smiling, Sophie, say something. -I don't know what to say. Really, Robert.

Nobody knows what to say, what to do.

I feel like crying.

You sent us, now say something.

Nobody knows how to treat us. Nobody.

DOCTOR: Gunshot wound to the head. Anyone know what hit him?

High velocity round of some sort.

ROBERT: Belgian, FN, 7.62.

Anybody know what the muzzle velocity of an FN is?

2,800 feet per second.

For God's sake, talk to me if you want to know anything. It's my job.

Bloody doctors. Talk to me.

Might I remind you, young man, that I am a Lieutenant Colonel in the RAMC

and that you're still a serving officer.

Queen's regulations still apply to you, you know, shot or not.

You can take your rank and your Queen's regs

and you can stuff them up your big, fucking arse.

Talk to me.

NEWSREADER ON TV: Three hours after the explosion, came the gruesome task

of removing the bodies of the horses.

Keep us quiet.

We have been shouting our mouth off at the senior medical officer, haven't we?

Oh, look at those poor horses. Isn't it dreadful?

-What is she on about, horses? -Off to another hospital for our operation soon.

Can you hear?

-What'll we say there? -There was a friend of mine killed in that bomb.

-Don't understand anything, do you? -Best keep our mouth shut there.

Silly little bitch.

Ireland, men were killed, blown apart.

You seen a man blown apart, have you?

NEWSREADER: ...just before 1:00, as the Royal Green Jackets Band

were playing selections of popular music to a crowd of holiday-makers...

ROBERT: First thing they show you when you come back.

Friend of yours blown apart.

Still going on.

I thought it was over.

They shouldn't have shown me.

Don't understand.

(MONITOR BEEPING)

There, there. How are you feeling, Robert?

-Robert. -That's right.

My name's Mary.

-Would you like a glass of water, dear? -Starving.

Haven't eaten forever such a long time.

Oh, I don't know about that. I'll have to ask the doctor about that.

-Try some water now. -Please, Mary, I'm starving.

Leg hurts.

My good leg.

That's where they took the little piece of muscle, dear.

Good leg.

I am starving.

-He's all right? -Yes, yes.

-Then he asked for more. -Can we see him?

Tomorrow.

Do you know when they eat?

Listen, why don't you go into my office, phone Christopher.

I'll hunt Nick out. He's doing a garden somewhere.

Oh, and Sophie, too. Ring her.

Sophie is finding it very difficult with Robert.

Why?

I think she may have another boyfriend.

-Has she said so? -No, but she could have.

She has spoken about a very good friend and, well...

I know she doesn't know what to say to him.

She's so young. It is difficult for her.

Well, we all find it difficult.

No, John, we don't.

But she does.

And she feels awful about it, I can tell.

Well...

I'll go find Nick.

It's a garden in Hampstead.

I'll see his van somewhere.

Then we'll come back and talk to the surgeon.

Do you know he came back specially from South Africa to do that boy's operation?

Yes.

I told you?

Yes.

Jean, you're so strong.

I'm very proud of you.

JOHN: Double egg and chips.

Double egg and chips.

-Daddy, what're you talking about? -I'm talking about Robert, spud.

Just heard. Thought I'd let you know.

He came round from the operation and demanded double egg and chips.

''At once, or else.''

Then another helping.

-How's that? -Great.

What's he gonna do, Daddy?

I don't know, spud.

He only wants to be a soldier. You know that.

NURSE: ''You put that away. I'm not letting you touch me with that.''

-And what did he say? -Well, what could he say? I wasn't having it.

I don't have the choice.

I like him, though. He's a lovely man when he tries.

-He's been trying. -I don't mind. I wanna have a baby.

-Oh, no, why? -I don't know.

NURSE 1 : Go on.

Nurse?

-What do you want? -Pain.

-I can't give you anything. -I know.

So what do you want?

-Talk. -What about, talk?

Anything.

-I hear you're pregnant. When's it due? -You don't listen to private conversations. No way.

-Sorry. -You keep quiet unless you're ill.

And don't listen to what does not concern you. You gonna need help.

-You better start thinking about that. -Don't talk to me like that.

I'm not one of your nutcases.

-NURSE 1 :Cheeky sod. Asked me when I'm due. -NURSE 2: How does he know that?

Just listening to private conversations, that's how.

-No smoking. -Stop him.

(ALARM WAILING)

-He's been smoking, Doctor. -All right, nurse.

With all this oxygen in here, he could've blown us all up.

All right. I can manage.

Motorbike? No?

-Come off your bike, did you? -Sort of.

No. Falklands.

Ah, you're one.

I expect you know all about it, blowing people up.

A bit.

Just wanted to talk to her. Silly cow.

Was not smoking, actually.

Not in here. It really is dangerous.

Half of these people are in comas. We'd never get them out if we had a fire.

I was seeing if I had any feeling in my left hand.

Did at first on the Uganda, but that was weeks ago.

-Can you drive? -Of course.

-What? -A beaten-up old MG.

That's all right.

I feel if I can get in a car, I'll be able to use the gear lever. Do you know what I mean?

Felt that on the Uganda.

Do you fancy a beer?

Is that all right?

I'll get them in. You wait there till I come back.

How are we this morning, Robert? Heard about your adventures in the night.

Aren't we the naughty boy?

And for your information, young man, they are not nutcases.

They are fellow neurological patients, however much they may look like nutcases.

I'm dying for a cigarette.

Yes, well, you'll have to die because you can't smoke in here.

Wait till we get you into a wheelchair.

And first of all, you're gonna have to learn to sit up.

Look at you, all slumped over.

Physio's for you.

ROBERT: You know what a high velocity bullet does?

DOCTOR: No. Hurts?

ROBERT: It does that.

DOCTOR: Bloody hell. ROBERT: Quite.

ROBERT: Imagine a brain.

What are you going to do?

Go back and pick up the bits.

No, when you're fit. Have you thought about it?

How fit am I going to be?

Haven't you seen your surgeon?

Yes, but you tell me.

You want me to?

Paralysed down the left side, complete.

You'll regain some functioning.

Might be able to do without that catheter.

Might be able to control your bowels.

Your mouth'll perhaps straighten, become a smile rather than a leer.

But you'll never be able to use your left hand or arm or leg.

You'll never walk.

Properly, that is.

You took your last real walk on the Falklands, Robert.

That's what he said.

Piss off.

You're going to have to learn be nicer to doctors and nurses.

-You're going to see a lot of them. -I said, ''Piss off.''

Morning, nurse.

-TRICIA: Try. -Hello.

TRICIA: Try and sit straight? ROBERT: I can't sit straight.

-Try. -Morning!

Try. There's a good boy. He can do it, can't he, Angie?

'Course he can, Tricia. He doesn't know what he can do till he tries, does he?

-CHAPLAIN: Morning, Mr Edwards. -That's right. Put your weight on your left buttock.

-That's right. There's a good boy. -He's slipping. He's slipping.

Of course I'm bloody slipping. There's nothing there.

Don't swear. We can do it.

I am doing it. Don't call me ''boy''!

Let's see what we look like, shall we?

What do you know, you two?

What do you know?

You know what it's like to kill someone?

They don't die all at once like the television. They keep coming at you.

Lumps fly off them. You don't know that, do you? Bits blown off. You see it.

I've done that.

I've done that. Look at me!

Thank you, young man. I was privileged to hear that compassionate outburst.

You stab.

You keep on stabbing.

You don't know how much it takes to kill a squirming man.

(SOBBING)

Is at 9:30.

Good afternoon, sir. I thought you'd resigned.

Couldn't look at my head, Company Sergeant Major.

All he could say what a lot of cards I had. Didn't want to talk about the war, anything.

Precisely the same with me, sir.

Bloody visitors. Why don't they leave us alone? They love it, sir. They love it, the bastards.

-Have you had the Families Officer, sir? -I've had everyone.

Me, too.

Went right through my hand, you know.

If my rifle had not been there, it would have gone into a very vital part.

You all right that way, sir?

Don't know, Company Sergeant Major. I haven't tested it yet.

Let me know as soon as you have, won't you, sir? I shall be agog.

Less to the point, it would have killed me.

I said to him, ''Good afternoon, sir. I thought you'd resigned.''

-Had your whisky from the Prince of Wales, I see. -MAJOR: Sergeant Major Brown?

Ma'am. Mr Lawrence was talking about escaping, ma'am. I'm forced to tell you.

It'll be along time before Mr Lawrence escapes.

-How do you feel, Robert? -Bored.

-What did he say to you? -''What lovely cards.''

Aren't they?

You don't frighten me, Major Newman.

Nor you, I, Robert.

-Do you want something to read? -No, I'm not a reader.

-Where did you go to school? -Fettes.

-They kicked me out. -I thought all you Guards officers were Eton.

I'm different.

I had a letter from my old headmaster saying he was proud of me.

That's what comes from being shot in the head.

-How are you getting on in physio? -I can nearly sit.

You'll manage it.

Take your time. You're still very ill.

-Don't I look it? -Yes, you do.

-What did your visitor say to you? -Nothing.

Nothing to say, just looked at my cards. ''What a lot of cards.''

Duke of Kent was all right. Told his lot to stay outside, had a cup of coffee.

-So I hear. -Soldier, you see. Talked about the Falklands.

-But you don't. -To you, I don't.

I'd listen, if you wanted to.

Sometimes I want to talk and can't stop.

Other times, I don't ever want to utter another word. Look.

What is it?

How silly.

What would we talk about if we talked?

Yomping.

That's all anybody seems to want to know about it.

That's all that will ever be remembered about it.

We don't know anything about yomping. We didn't yomp.

We weren't strange characters who yomped.

Before Tumbledown, I talked to a para.

He said all we had to do was bang away with an 84mm rocket launcher

and the Argies would run.

Well, they didn't.

Not the Argies we met. They stuck.

I'm one of the few soldiers in this hospital

who's here because he did what he's supposed to, aren't I?

Died for Queen and country.

Eh?

Still can't steer straight, Pongo.

Aye.

-Meet the wife, sir. -Hello, Mrs Prothero.

How is he?

He thinks he's gonna die.

It's terrible.

Isn't it?

Hey, Pongo, you're not going to die.

I would to spite the buggers.

(FEEBLE CHUCKLE)

God, isn't it awful.

Hey.

-NURSE: Are you leaving us, Mr Lawrence? -Bloody am.

-Will you put my wheelchair in for me? -MAN: No trouble there, sir.

-MAN: Where to, sir? -Kings Road.

Anywhere will do.

You look as if you've been in a war, sir.

(LAUGHING)

Have I said something, eh?

No, cause I don't mean to, know what I mean?

Robert!

ROBERT: Christ.

Robert!

Oh, my God, Robert, you look awful. There's no one with you?

-Where are you going? -Nowhere.

Just...

-Take me to Sophie. -No, Robert, Sophie's not there.

Ring my father, will you?

Come on, I think we should go back to the flat.

(WHOOPING)

Stop that! I've told you before.

Mr Brown, will you come back to your bed! Mr Thomas, come on! Calm down!

Please be quiet.

Hey, Pongo, the boss has bugged off.

-Eh? -Mr Lawrence, he's went and split.

Hope he gets to waste a few heads along the way.

He didn't even wait to tak' his tubes out. Wrapped them round his fucking neck and went.

-True grit. Am I right or wrong? -You're right.

-Are you all right? -Yes, I'm all right.

I won't tell your mother.

Don't, Daddy.

JOHN: I mean, you may think that he has let the side down, but...

You may think so, but I have to say... Please, do take this seriously.

This is very bad security.

If anybody can get out, then anybody can get in.

That's right, Wing Commander, and I will not let it happen again.

You are very stupid.

You are still dangerously ill.

You could haemorrhage, you could go into convulsions.

You're brain is protected only by a thin layer of skin

and part of the muscle of your own leg.

There's still danger of infection, which could kill you.

Or at best send you into a coma for life. You could have an epileptic fit.

If you have one, you will have another.

If you have two, you are more then likely to have more.

Every day that you do not have a fit there is less chance that you will have one.

Which is why you must be kept quiet and in a hospital.

There is no way you are going to tell me off. No way!

ANNOUNCER ON TV: The Prince of Wales wearing his uniform as Commander in the Royal Navy.

He also... Will be very much on his mind here that he's Colonel of the Welsh Guards

and Colonel in Chief of the Parachute Regiment.

Two regiments who fought at great cost in the Falkland Islands.

The Royal Navy lost 87 killed,

26 Royal Marines, total of 1 1 3.

The Army, 1 24 were killed, 4 1 from the Parachute Regiment,

36 from the Welsh Guards.

Royal Air Force lost one killed, the Royal Fleet Auxiliary, 1 0 from three ships,

the Merchant Navy, six from the Atlantic Conveyor.

So the members of the Royal Family

take their places at the front of this huge, silent, standing congregation.

And so the congregation sits.

The Royal Family say their prayers, for this is a special service,

which will be both moving and proud

and filled with hope for the future.

Not for today, the pageantry that brought

Nelson home to St Paul's or Wellington to his marble tomb. No marching...

(ALL SINGING A HYMN)

VICAR: ''Seeing the crowd, he went up on the mountain...''

-All right, sir? -It's all right, Colour Sergeant, it's called clonus.

Doesn't mean it works unless it wants to.

VICAR: ''And he opened his mouth and taught them, saying...''

ANNOUNCER ON TV: Trumpeters of the Royal Air Force

soundThe Last Post from the Whispering Gallery high above in the dome.

(TRUMPETERS PLAYING THE LASTPOST)

Come on, Colour Sergeant, get me out of here.

It's just the wait now, sir.

Two hours, I've been sitting here, Colour Sergeant. Two hours.

I couldn't see a thing.

Couldn't be seen.

Couldn't wear a uniform.

What are they frightened of?

Come on, Colour Sergeant, get me out.

It's as if we shouldn't have come back or something.

-Now stay up there. -I am trying.

It's going to take a long time.

-Look at it! -Come on, use the other side of your body.

-Control it from the other side. -And don't tell me what to do.

You ought to be able to keep it up.

Wooden top. Young wooden top like you.

-Look at the sodding useless thing. -You need a good physiotherapist, sir.

Physio-terrorist.

-I waste terrorists. -When you can find them, soldier boy.

Relax. Relax.

You want to waste something, waste this thing.

(GRUNTING)

-You shit, you. -Say it, open the box.

What's this, man. What's this?

-You're paralysed, man, you can't feel it. -I bloody can. The rest of me can.

Eh, these Guards, are they rubbish?

You wouldn't say that if I was ramming a grenade down your throat. You...

Say it.

Sorry, got to go.

Okay.

Okay.

Here soldier, piss in this.

Walk. Get me to walk, Benny.

I'm going to walk. I'm going to march in a parade in uniform

with medals and show them this.

My head, Grandpa, I'm proud of it.

-And how are you going to do that, soldier? -Benny, please.

All right. Let's consider it.

You can't use parallel bars because you have no way of supporting yourself on the left.

You can't use crutches for the same reason.

A walking stick, yes.

But you're a Guards Officer. How would you raise your hat to a lady?

Now, hands clasped.

That's a start.

Left foot. Right foot. Oh, man, you look a mess.

Never waste anything, Robert. Life's too short.

Too short to be caught short.

Where are we going?

Thought we'd take you to see Sophie.

-You all right, Robert? -No.

-Wasn't bad, was it? -Great.

-What does Sophie think? -She doesn't know.

Can't I drive?

Certainly not. It's a new car. I wouldn't let you drive, anyway.

SOPHIE: I knew you could do it.

ROBERT: Yes, I knew.

What about dancing?

That's gonna be a fairly interesting spectacle.

Yeah, but it doesn't matter.

But you never did like dances and things, did you, ever?

-Not much. Why, have you accepted an invitation? -No.

I mean, I do, actually, very much.

You're so down on people with money, aren't you?

Yes, well, I've slogged for everything I have.

My parents don't support me.

No.

(PHONE RINGING)

Hello?

Gosh, yes. How nice.

No.

Robert.

Yes, that Robert.

He's staying the night.

Yes. Isn't that nice?

Robert, that's the last time.

I'm very fond of you.

But, Robert, it's everything else now.

-What will you do? -When?

-If it happens again. -If I meet someone, you mean?

Somebody else. Yes.

I don't know.

Tell them, I suppose.

From the beginning, before they take me on.

Shakes, the rest of it.

And I do get bloody angry about things.

I'll tell them.

Soon as I know what I'm going to be.

All of it.

I hate you at the moment.

I won't hate you.

I do hate you.

I'm sure you do.

-Sorry. -It's all right.

If I still loved you or anything, it would be different.

Do you see what I mean? I suppose.

I hope so.

One can't get away from the fact that you are a different person.

I mean, not just your injury, but that of course. I mean,

it terrifies me to think of living with you.

We weren't, after all, going to marry or anything, were we?

We hadn't seen each other for weeks before you went down there.

Yes, all right.

(SIGHING)

Look, I've made a mess in the bed.

I hope you don't expect me to apologise.

It happens.

JEAN: Good morning.

JEAN: This is awful. ROBERT: Isn't it?

It's one thing after another.

So much so, it seems funny.

JEAN: John, the place is awful.

There are sauce bottles on the table. It's squalid.

They know nothing about him. Nothing at all. No records. Nobody's ever heard of him.

Just stay with him, Jean. I'm coming.

You're not supposed to smoke in here, you know. No smoking.

I'm an officer in the Scots Guard, you silly old fart.

Awful thing to say.

Unforgivable, really, but I don't know anything about your son.

You see...

You see, it does appear no records yet.

Fairly inexcusable, Wing Commander.

It shouldn't happen.

Well, where is he?

MAN: Mind you, there is a way of doing it, sir, so that nobody knows.

But you risk becoming an alcoholic.

This is Wing Commander Lawrence. He's come about his son.

-Squadron Leader Wentworth. -Do I know him?

I don't know whether you know him or not, but you now know me.

And I think you ought to get off the edge of that table when introduced to a senior officer,

even though retired.

DOCTOR: Which finger am I holding? ROBERT: Index.

ROBERT: That's up. That's down. DOCTOR: Come on, Lawrence, pay attention.

Bloody tests, you're always doing tests. Haven't you got my medical documents?

-No, as a matter of fact, we haven't. -Christ.

Your father gave me a lesson in military etiquette. I shall give you one.

-I am called ''sir''. -What are you, Squadron Leader?

In the Household Division, we don't call your rank ''sir''.

-Well, you can start now, Lawrence. -You're in the Royal Air Force. You a flyer?

No, I'm not. I'm a doctor.

Well, listen, Doctor.

Just test this fist. It's just about to give you your first fucking flying lesson.

-Do listen to me, Wing Commander... -I will see my son.

I've examined your son, Wing Commander, he's fine.

Fine?

Considering the nature of his wound. But I'm more worried about his mental state.

Are you? Well, I'm not.

You can take him away, you know.

You're quite within your rights, but you'll have to be responsible for him.

I'm not afraid of that responsibility. I consider that an honour.

I'll ask him what he wants.

You...

You don't deserve to know how brave that boy is.

They want to keep you here for a couple of weeks until you've been assessed.

They're saying that the officer's mess is a fire risk for serious cases,

and that you're still a serious case.

-Do you want to come home? -No, I'll hack it.

-Well done, spud. -Do you want us to stay?

No.

Right. Well...

-I'll chase up Sophie. -No.

She ought to have been to see you more. Perhaps she needs a lift.

Look, Daddy, leave it. That's over.

I'll not be telling anybody any more about it.

They don't deserve to know of his bravery.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

-Good morning. -Morning.

Sorry about the wheelchair.

I'm walking quite well now, but it has been a tiring morning with the sadists.

-Sadists? -The physio-terrorists.

-Is that how you look at them? -I beg your pardon, I don't know your name.

From the 5th Infantry Brigade. We wonder if you care to answer a few questions, Robert.

We're asking all the wounded their impressions of the casualty evacuation,

the whole thing, for a report.

-Would you care to? -What for?

-So that we do it better next time. -Next time?

All right.

But you'll have to answer some questions from me.

Am I still going to be able to serve in the army?

What sort of pension can I expect if I'm discharged?

How much of a disability pension can I expect? How much will I get from the South Atlantic Fund?

-Hasn't anybody told you these things? -No.

My father writes letters, tries to find out, but nobody seems to know or wants to know.

All right, I'll try. But first, name, rank and number.

You know, you're the first person I've seen in combat dress for months.

-I'm sorry? -You must enjoy wearing it.

What is it like to kill?

ROBERT: The sort of questions you don't ask. GEORGE: Why not?

-Don't you want to answer them? -Not very much.

-Are you ashamed? -No, not at all.

They weren't 1 6-year-old conscripts on Tumbledown, you know,

starving or freezing or shot in the foot so that they couldn't run.

-Were they? -No, they weren't.

I'm not ashamed.

You know, the strange thing is, people treat me differently now.

Young people ask my advice about their boyfriends, girlfriends. Me. I'm only 25.

-What about Hugh? -What about him?

Does he ask your advice?

-Hugh is different. -Yes, he is, isn't he?

-Where have they gone? -To talk, I suppose.

(DOG BARKING)

Hugh is jealous of me. He's always been jealous.

You know, to be honest with you, Hugh was never a real soldier.

Yeah, he's cleverer than me in lots of ways, knows things, knows more, but he wasn't like me.

He's jealous of my Military Cross

and he's jealous of the fact that I was a real soldier through and through.

What was it like?

They don't die.

How does it feel? Do you feel anything? Elation, pleasure, sick?

You push the thing in and nothing happens.

Mine broke off.

Had to kill him with the broken end of it, stabbing and stabbing at him.

He was shouting.

Talking all the time in Spanish.

And I was stabbing him with my snapped-off bayonet.

Everywhere. In his face, his mouth.

Everywhere I could. He kept trying to hold it.

He said ''please'' in English.

What did it feel like?

-When? -When he said, ''Please.''

-Didn't feel like anything. -You didn't feel any sexual excitement?

No, I didn't.

How many did you kill?

I don't know.

GEORGE: Why do you carry them?

ROBERT: To remind me of what they did to me. I know what I did to them.

Sometimes I think I should be affected. Everyone expects me to be.

In a way, it's amazing that I'm sane. And I am.

The thing I hated most about it all, you know, talking to you,

-nobody seemed to know how to cope with us. -I'm not surprised.

It's not like Helen seemed when people faint.

-Can you cope? -Now?

Yes.

(DRUMS BEATING IN MILITARY CADENCE)

Soldiers, out!

Welcome home, sir.

How are you, Robert?

As you see. On my feet.

I'm glad you're back, sir. A lot of questions to ask.

Well, we're back now. Sit down.

We can get on top of it for you. Please, sit down.

You've been recommended for the Military Cross, you know.

You might as well know. You're pretty certain to get it.

-Thank you, sir. -Colonel Bill, they're waiting for you.

The thing that's delighted me most

is the fact that you saluted me correctly whilst wearing a Panama.

Looked it up, sir.

-I'm expected back there. -Yes, sir.

Don't get up.

Come and meet the boys, sir. The platoon.

Christ, it was awful down there. Dead boring.

Mr Lawrence, sir.

-I'll keep the boys together, sir. -Right.

What's wrong?

Fuck it! Why you?

Of all the pricks in this battalion, why you?

Glorious weather, Bobert.

Is this the sort of weather you've been enjoying? It was appalling down there.

You always manage to come off best.

HELEN: I don't think either of you will recover from it.

It's a long time.

I'm not envious of him, you know. He thinks I am.

But I'm not at all.

How can I be envious of someone who's lost half his body?

Come on, Robert.

We're off.

Helen wouldn't want Louise to meet you. Might find she has a penchant for killers.

There's a fascination. Goodness knows what she might do if she met a real killer,

by which I mean one who doesn't apologise.

-Were you in the war, George? -Oh, yes.

See any action?

Dug potatoes, weeded asparagus, got to be done by hand.

I didn't want to go. I didn't agree with it all.

-But I was frightened, really. -Of being killed?

A bit, but more important than that, of killing, of course.

What about what all these things, then? Medals, prints, badges.

Know your enemy, and they're history and they fascinate me.

I collect, but I don't do. Bit like the rest of the country.

-Can't collect the smell. -I wouldn't want to.

-Goodbye. Fascinating to have met you. -Yeah.

Goodbye.

ROBERT: Don't know the way.

-He's very angry. -Isn't he? They both are.

I keep thinking, two killers.

During the war when I was little, all those young men in the Navy and the Air Force,

all of them, I used to think they were wonderful, heroes.

-Two heroes? -Don't know yet. Haven't read the myth.

(ROCK MUSIC PLAYING ON CAR STEREO)

I thought they'd never go.

I didn't suppose they stopped talking about it, did they? They talk about nothing else.

It's so mind-bendingly boring.

I don't suppose they'll ever talk about anything else.

I know.

I don't want to be cruel or anything, but I could scream. It goes on and on.

(SIGHING) It's all right for you, Dad. You love all that.

-No, I don't love it. -Well, you know what I mean.

I do.

(EXPLOSIONS)

PETER: One machine gun post, possibly more.

Number one platoon will join left flank company here,

in an extended line to act as a fire post.

Robert, Hugh, two and three platoons to do a right-flank attack...

A right-flanking attack on machine gun post, going down the gully

which runs down the right-hand side of Tumbledown Crags.

Three to the left-hand assault. Two to the right-hand assault.

-Peter? -Robert?

We know what's to the front, we don't know what's behind.

-I'm senior. I should take the right-hand side. -You?

PETER: Yes, all right, Robert.

(MISSILE WHISTLING)

(SOLDIERS YELLING)

SOLDIER: For fuck's sake, get down or you'll be hit!

Mr Fyshe back there, sir. Got caught in the back blast of an 84.

-Soon be out of it. He'll be fine. -Idiot!

ROBERT: They're supposed to run.

(GUNS FIRING)

ROBERT: Targets fall when hit.

Come on, let's go!

(YELLING)

Call one and ask for fire on the empty post, otherwise they'll miss it.

Hello, one, bring fire to bear on enemy. Over.

Come on, boys!

(GUNS FIRING)

(YELLS) Clear!

Move it! Clear!

(SCREAMING)

Go through! Clear! Move it!

Give me cover!

Brodick!

Oh, bollocks!

Dobheads!

Move it, you dirty bastard!

(GROANING)

-SOLDIER: Take cover! -I can't get the pin out!

-I couldn't get the pin out. -SOLDIER: Give it here.

You pull, I'll hold the grenade.

Go!

(SCREAMING)

(ALL SCREAMING)

(SCREAMING)

There you go, you bastard!

(CLAMOURING)

Give me your rifle. Just give me your fucking rifle!

-Give me your fucking rifle! -Let's see your hands!

Give me your fucking rifle. Drop your fucking rifle! Just drop your fucking rifle!

Give it to me, you stupid prick! Don't you understand?

You bastard! You bastard!

Give me your fucking rifle, you stupid bastard! Just drop your rifle!

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

(GUNS FIRING)

(SOLDIERS YELLING)

-Move! -SOLDIER: Move it!

Move it! Okay, go on.

Move it!

(SCREAMING)

(SPEAKING SPANISH)

Please? Please?

Please? Please?

(GUNS FIRING)

Excuse me, sir, I've been hit.

There it is! And Hugh will be lying sleeping!

And there it is!

(SCREAMING) Isn't this fun?

(GUN FIRES)