All language subtitles for The.Best.Of.Men.2012.1080p.WEB.H264-iNTENSO-English

Nurse: On my count.

One, two, three.

Help me.

Help me!

Help me.

Help me.

Help me!

Help me!

Man: And answer came there none.

Thank you, sir.

Nurse, is there something

wrong with the drapes?

Nurse: What?

Now the hare can
see the rabbit, ja?

Do we have only one nurse?

Ah, two.
Good God.

Do we only have
these metal things?

This will not do,
Nurse Edwards.

I'm Nurse Edwards.

Sister Edwards,
and you are?

I have this on my list.

General Blake knows
what we require.

Rubber bedpans.

Man: You tell them, Adolf.

German man: Ah, no, no.
He is darker with a little...

and he shouts.

How he shouts.

Ludwig Guttmann.
Doctor. Your doctor.

I thought I had
the wrong place.

A chapel, I thought.
So much peace and quiet.

And who's this?

William.

Private Heath.

Hello, William.

Help me.

Of course, we will.

Edward: That's the state
they arrive in

from military hospitals.

Poor boys.

Kill me.

Man: One more bloody time,
and I'll do just that.

William?

William?

This is bad, I know.

All is bad,

but you have life
waiting for you,

a good life.

I promise.

This man is on morphine, ja?

-Yes, he's--
-Half dead with medication,

so we'll bring him back
to the world of the living.

"Sergeant Philip Newman."

Hello, Philip.
How are you?

Why is he in this thing?

Edwards: It protects him.

Guttmann: From what?
Tigers, lions?

From knocks.

Man: Knocks, doctor.

Is there a plaster room
in the hospital?

Yes...doctor.

Pincers to cut away this--
sage--how you say?

Coffin, ja.
And his.

Edwards:
That's Mr. Cowan's patient.

No. They are mine.
They are all mine.

Did he get his pliers?

Yeah.

He says he wants us
both in there.

Does he, then?

He can wait
till I've done this.

He'll have to learn
that patients come first

in this ward.

He's a--he's a funny sort
of doctor, if you ask me.

I thought he'd wandered
in from a loony bin.

"Zey are mine.
Zey are all mine."

A German refugee.
What next?

He's in there carrying on
like he's royalty.

I don't think they have
royalty in Germany anymore,

only Fuhrers.

Aprons, please.

Nurse Edwards...

These men,
they have nothing to do.

They're ill, doctor.

Bring me all the notes, please.

This is our friend
with the sparkling wit, ja?

Edwards:
Corporal Bowen, yes.

Bowen: That's me, life and soul.

Why is he sedated?

An act of mercy
to the rest of us, doctor.

Why? Because the--

they're all sedated, doctor.

Yes, I see that.
Not anymore, none of them.

Bowen: Hey, hang on, hang on.

We like our little bit of gloop.

Guttmann:
You will survive without it.

You wouldn't say that
if you had my arms.

Medication, yes.
Sedation, no.

And another urine infection.

My God, what are
you doing with them?

Why do we allow these
patients to rot?

It is not the paralysis
that is killing them,

it is the bedsores,
the infections.

-But they're paralyzed.
-No.

They are partially paralyzed,

and they have had too much
gentle nursing.

The velvet glove
and the hushed whisper.

Everything you are doing
you have been taught to do it.

That is good,

but now, we have new
ways of doing things.

Edwards: And these new ways,
better, are they?

Of course,
or why do them?

It's my job to make
their lives comfortable,

bearable.

No, it is your job
to make them healthy.

Some, it may not be possible.

Some, sepsis has been
allowed to develop.

You keep saying, "allowed."

Forgive my English.

Lovely tea. Thank you.

I'll show you
the temperature charts.

Nurse Carr is new to us,

but she's hoping
to go on and train.

Excellent.

So, William,
where are you from?

Are you a country mouse
or a town rat?

I hear that you are a driver.

Bowen: Drove himself all the way
to Stoke Mandeville, eh?

Need a new map, son.

Have you met Corporal Bowen?

He's a cross we must bear.

Messerschmitt.

Run! Run for it!

Be a bloody good trick.

No! No! Run!

Run!

No!

Woman: William.

Woman and Guttman's voices:
William...

They've sent you home, William.

Guttmann: Listen to me.

You're in your bed,
safe and sound.

No one can hurt you now.

All finished.

No more fighting.

Good boy.

Good boy.

Next week, we will see
if it is improving.

From now on, Sister Edwards,
it will be you tending

to these wounds.

Edwards: If you say so.

Guttmann: I do.

When we're finished here,
we can scrub up and begin

to take out these catheters.

Hurrah, Corporal Tomkins, ja?

Now you can learn to pee-pee
all over again, my boy.

Give me something to do, Doc.

Bowen: Bit of a palaver,
this, isn't it?

Guttmann: It should be
easier than this.

We had some difficulty
inserting that one.

Way I'm built, see, love.

Another good reason not to
go messing around with him.

Like a carthorse.

One more try.
I don't want to damage

the tissues in here
from bleeding.

Hey, hey, what do
you mean now, Doc?

Can't you just leave it?

I've grown attached to it.

Guttmann: No.

No good.

X-rays, Sister Edwards.

We know we have an infection.

Let's see if we also
have kidney stones.

I'll put him on the list.

What list?

The X-ray list.

We don't have
a machine on the ward?

Neil: He's a laugh, ain't he?

There's a war on, Doctor,
and we're an embarrassment.

Bowen: Lucky they give us beds.

Edwards:
We all have to do without.

And some have to do
without more than others?

I think not.

Carr: I'm gonna go
and see Matron,

ask for a transfer.

Edwards: You'll be lucky.

Who'll they get in your place?

Especially now he's
in charge of the circus.

I'd rather do factory work.

You know, I was told that
this was proper nursing,

not pee and bedsores
all day long.

Where's Private Heath?

Taken him down
to surgical, Doctor.

-What?
-Spinal op tomorrow.

Mr. Cowan likes them
on his ward the day before.

He's not having an operation.

Yes. To stabilize his spine.

Why? Where is it
going, the spine?

It has taken legs?

Bowen: Hey, boys, wake up.
Fireworks.

Gibberish!

Edwards: I'm only telling you
what I was told.

Heh heh heh.

Uppity.

Mr. Cowan's the one to
take him down a peg or two.

Oh, yes.

Dr. Guttmann,
how do you do?

Good to meet you.

Mr. Cowan, ditto.

And what brings you
to my department?

This young man William Heath,
he is my patient.

I operate tomorrow.

Unstable fracture
of the ninth vertebrae.

No, I think not.

Ah, my apologies.

Yes, he does have a fracture
of his vertebrae.

You are right,

and, yes, for all anyone knows,
it may be unstable,

but no, you are not going
to operate on him.

We don't know yet how much
movement may be restored.

None.

With your operation,
you are guaranteeing this.

The army consultant sent
Heath here expressly

for this operation.

Sent him to my ward.

Actually, he sent him to me.

Guttmann: But now I am here,
so I can take over.

From today, all spinal patients
are my responsibility.

I gather that you haven't
touched a patient for years.

I haven't been allowed to.

Dr. Guttmann has specialized
in spinal patients all his life.

Yes, in Germany.

The spinal cord is the same
for Wilhelm or William,

Henry or Heinrich.

There are pioneering treatments.

-Experimental.
-No, new, but already proven.

Monroe is doing great
work in Boston.

America? Say no more.

I'm doing what I consider
to be the best

for this mortally wounded
young man.

He has not been
mortally wounded.

His life expectancy
is what, six months?

Guttmann:
That is why I am here.

Too many cripples
in the last war.

Too many young men dying young.

Too many wounded men made
helpless by medical neglect.

Too many widows.

That is why I am here.

Didn't last
very long, now, did he?

Old Himmel.

Maybe he's been sacked.

That mean I get my little
bit of gloop after all?

We'll have to see, won't we?

I could do with a bit now.

Guttmann: Good, good!
What is it we say?

Upwards and upwards.

Ah, look, William.
Just in time.

Eight o'clock, ladies.
Time to go home.

-We have to do handover.
-No need.

Tonight, we only have
the one orderly, so I will stay.

We always have
the one orderly.

Until now.

There's nothing
for two men to do all night.

They will be busy, Sister,
this I promise,

and one man alone cannot
turn all these patients.

But they'll be asleep.

They'll learn to
sleep through it.

We will do one round
of turning, sleep for two hours,

another round, and so on.

You take away
their sedation and then--

I see you in the morning.

Bright and early, please.

Carr: Huh, I hope you've
had some sleep today.

You're in for it.

Neil: Jesus wept.
What are you doing to me now?

Guttmann: Healing your
bedsores, my boy.

Neil: Don't you ever go
to sleep?

Guttmann: Two, three.

Comfortable?

Lap of bloody luxury.

Do you know what
bloody time it is?

Pillows right?

Very good.

Neil: Shut up!

How about a cup of tea then?

Stuff it!

Neil: Shut up, you bastard!

Good. Tea for three.

Sweet and strong.

The way the English like it.

Oh, aye, and sod
the poor bloody Welsh, eh?

I haven't had a wink of sleep
all bloody night because

of this bloody pantomime.

Neil: Shut up!

A hard journey, you and me.

A new land, strange.

All we knew gone.

The people we were gone.

The lives we planned...

but courage,
a new life waiting.

Different, ja,
but not so bad.

No, thanks.

This is my promise.

We will make good,
new lives, you and I.

We will not give up.

I'm going to walk again.

Maybe, ja.

No maybe.

Do you think there's a chance?

Always a chance.

You were wounded in battle.

What chance
of you surviving that?

You nearly died as
they brought you home.

What chance of surviving that?

Mr. Cowan, you survived that.

You have tasted
Sister Edwards' tea.

Survived that.

I was promised wheelchairs
and X-ray machines,

steam sterilizers.

No, they were on your list,
a very long list,

and nobody promised you
any of these things.

Mattresses and rubber bedpans.

Good God, must I get
down on my knees?

I've requested your supplies
as a priority,

and you have my word
you'll be fully staffed

as soon as possible.

I've seen the other wards.
Ja, they have nurses.

Yes, but they're
acute wards, post-op.

Your young men are not
treatable as such.

And they don't feel any pain.

They don't suffer.

Well, they do, of course
they do, but no pain.

I'm doing everything I can,
Dr. Guttmann, but...

gently, gently,
catchee monkey.

Monkey? W-w-what monkey?

You're new to this hospital,
new ideas, new ways.

We must be careful not
to step on toes.

Good.

Good, I receive the message.

"Be good, Guttmann.
Do not upset the apple cart,

the monkey's toes."

So many English sayings
to say the same thing.

"Know your place
and be a good boy."

Good morning, Doctor.

They've all had
a terrible night,

very little sleep.

Who are these men?
Talk to them.

They're in pain.

Find out who they are,
where they come from,

what they want, what they miss,
what they long for.

Let them talk
about their pain.

The pain here...and here.

Where do I take
the bus to London?

Do I change for Whitehall?

Scourge of the valleys, love.

No woman was safe.

Edwards:
And you were a mechanic?

Aye. That's why
the army took me.

The Germans trembled,
they trembled.

Edwards: Two children?

Tommy Atkins--of him

we have no fear,
but Wynne Bowen, oh!

We hear he is
the mighty sausage dog.

If you get my drift.

Edwards: Ahem.

Three kids.

Just have to look at her,
and there's another sprog.

One problem solved.

Two years Nottingham.

Edwards: And what
were you doing there?

Usual stuff.

A year in Lancaster.

Edwards: Oh, you got around.

Yeah.

One Pentonville,
three months Borstal.

That was way back,

but I'm going straight now.

Edwards: And how long ago
did you join up?

On my birthday.

Finished training
just after Christmas.

Joined my regiment
Easter Sunday.

Got shot up Easter Monday.

That's the end
of Solomon Grundy.

He can talk to them himself.

Stupid, bloody man.

Guttman, voice-over: For years,
all my experience wasted,

never to work with any patients.

At last, I can be of some use,
but still you won't give me

any equipment.

We need so much, bitte.

Please, so much.

At last!
Rubber bedpans!

Rubber, gold, diamond-encrusted,
who gives a stuff...sir?

Oh, God. Here I go.

Guttmann: See how much
room we have

without this big, ugly desk, ja?

It's a dance room.

Ha ha!

I wouldn't mind,
but we were doing all right.

Not even lunch now,
and I'm knackered.

Do you know what it feels like
to be sat up straight

when you've been lying flat out
for months on end, huh?

Guttmann: This is good.

Your bedsores are not
quite so smelly, Wynne.

Oh, it's "Wynne" now, is it?

Bloody Wynne.

Well, tell you what it is, Doc.

I don't care if they
bloody smell

'cause I can't smell them.

You think your wife would
like your smelly ass?

My wife is safely tucked up
in Port Talbot,

where the asses are big
and pink and lovely.

Meanwhile, I've had another
awful night thanks to you.

Wynne, we are winning
the battle of the buttock,

but you must look
after your heels,

or they, too, will break down.

How the hell do I do that?

By continuing as you started.

Amusing us as we work
with your droll observations

of the world around us.

Shut it, Private Heath!

You're only a ha'penny corporal,
so shut up yourself.

If you don't want to wake up
in the morning with your teeth

halfway down your gullet,
you'll shut your mouth.

-Boys, boys.
-Only to be expected, Doctor.

No sedation.

But William no longer
wants us to kill him,

and instead wants us
to kill Corporal Bowen.

Progress, ja?

Stand by your beds with your
boots in your hands, boys.

It's only Monty.

Can we help you?

I'm looking
for the spinal unit.

-And you have found it.
-Right.

Quartermaster Hill, sir.

Ah, Sergeant Hill.

Ha! Now the hard work begins.

Ladies, gentlemen, Sergeant Hill
is here to get us all fit.

That's a joke.

Guttmann: Wynne, my boy,
this will cook your goose.

No more lazing on your back
smoking and looking

at Nurse Carr's legs.

I'm paralyzed, not desperate.

William: Oi!

Guttmann:
Sergeant, we will talk...

in my office.

It's "Q," sir.

Bowen: Uh, before you go,
I'm in pain here.

If I never used my arms,
they would ache for me, too.

Move them!

Bowen: It bloody hurts
to move my bloody arms,

you stupid, bloody Kraut!

I thought you said--

No office, no desk,
no nameplate on the door,

but much determination.

So no problem, ja?

They offer me massage
one afternoon a week.

These men are paralyzed
seven days a week.

I don't know anything
about paralysis.

You will learn.

Become an expert.

I'm a PTI, sir,
not Jesus Christ.

I don't raise men
from the dead.

Sorry.

You are a soldier.

This is your posting.

No, there's been some mistake.

Of course.

I should be head
of neurosurgery in Breslau

or watching children
playing in the Oder.

My friends and family
should be enjoying

the autumn in Silesia,

but some mistake happened,
and most of them are in SS camps

while I am here with you.

So we must make
the best of it.

I just don't see the point.

I'll see you
Monday morning, 8 a.m.

We want to know
all about you, Philip.

What you did,
what you liked, who you were.

I mean...who you are.

Oh. Don't worry
about your mother, son.

She's--she just can't get
over the difference,

that's what it is.

You could barely open
your eyes last time.

I'm off the morphine.

Are you in pain?

I'm all right, Mum.

How's the 1st XV?

Ah. Limping on
without you just about.

All the boys send
their regards.

And Ruth.

She wants to come see you.

No.

Not yet.

Maybe later.

Yeah.

When I'm up and about.

When I'm walking again.

Dr. Guttmann says they're doing
wonders for spinal patients.

Carr: Ah, all the way
from London.

You must be gasping.

-There you are.
-Thanks very much. Thank you.

Mum. Mum.

Mum.

No, love.
That's not your mum.

That's another boy's mum.

I read...

I'm sorry, I'm sorry.

I read this article.

Boys don't stop growing
till they're 21.

He wasn't even grown up.

His strength and his youth
will bring him through this.

He was the brightest boy
in the bunch.

Head boy if he stayed
on his last year.

I'm just a groundsman,
Mr. Guttmann.

Got rotten pay,
small, damp cottage,

but if the school employs you,

then they educate
your son for free.

My son William, he grew up
alongside the sons of...

dukes, cabinet ministers,

and he was head and sh--

He was a bright star.

Like this. Up the ladders
and down the snakes, yeah?

Sister, why is Philip
without his saline IV?

I wrote him up an hour ago.

Fred had the last bottle.

There's no more saline
in the whole hospital?

They'll have some
on the surgical wards, but--

He needs fluid just
like everyone else.

There are forms to fill out.

While his infection kills him?

Tin hats on.

Every surgeon will give
you his own definition

of "surgical shock."

This may include
sepsis symptoms...

-Dr. Guttmann, can I help you?
-No, no, I'm good, thank you.

I know what I am looking for.

Cowan: And what exactly is that?

No, no, no need to stop.
Please do continue.

Surgical shock, yes.

My personal definition
takes in blood pressure,

temperature,
respiration, cardiac--

Dr. Guttmann, if I can
be of assistance.

Yes, certainly you can.

Tell Sister Rogers we owe
you 4 bottles of saline.

You, too, are running low,
but I have left you a crate.

Student: There we have
another definition

of "surgical shock."

Dr. Guttmann won't let
him die, will he?

Wynne.

Shh.

Your mum's there.

Look.

She's just there.

She's waiting.

Several stones.

You have boulders
in your bladder, Wynne.

We will operate tomorrow.

How do I book theater time?

You ask Mr. Cowan.

Oy gevalt.

Where are the night staff?

Have they come?

I was promised today.

They're out there. Polish.

Not my idea
of orderlies, but still.

They are shovelers.

Shovelers from the steel works,
these orderlies you send me.

They have been shoveling coal.

Well, yes.
We find men where we can.

Shovelers!
Shovelers of shit!

Like the Ministry of War,
so it seems.

It is shit you have been
shoveling to me, isn't it?

Promises of shit,
my dear General.

-Guttmann--
-Yes, yes, it is "Guttmann."

"Guttmann the idiot."

"Guttmann the trusting."

"Guttmann the leichtgläubig."

You yawn? I wake you?
Lucky you.

For my nurses, they are
working like slaves

for these orderlies
who are shovelers.

Doctor, let's...

talk about all this tomorrow.

And tomorrow and tomorrow
and tomor--always tomorrow.

You think Mr. Churchill
could be happy

on this poor Sister Edwards
who needs no sleep?

Sister Edwards the Dracul--
Sister Edwards the vampire?

I think not!

Good! Throw the cups around!

Don't worry that Sister Edwards
is asleep at last.

Put on some clogs
and do a dance, why don't you?

I've requested a senior staff
meeting about your behavior.

Tomorrow morning, ten o'clock,
the conference room.

Ten o'clock, old chap,
don't you know?

Ted, Peter now.

Quickly, quickly!

Hey, I'm not sure
I want you taking

this catheter bloody thing out.

Guttmann: Good, good.

Bowen: It's bad enough being
woken all night

to be turned without you pissing
around in my piss.

Thanks for listening.

Cowan: You must see he's
using up valuable resources.

I entirely agree.

You're pushing
at an open door.

It's hard enough getting basic
supplies for our own patients

without this...nobody.

That's all he is.

A nobody in charge
of moribund incurables.

A wet nurse, that's all.

A chimpanzee could do
the job standing on his head.

Sister, we're looking
for Dr. Guttmann.

You have any idea where he is?

He's in the theater, General.

I believe it was an emergency.

Don't be silly, Sister.

What sort of emergency
could there be on this ward?

A bladder drainage
problem, Mr. Cowan.

Bloody hell, some emergency.

And what idiot did he persuade
to give up his theater

for this complete
waste of time?

I believe it was
Mr. Cowan, Mr. Cowan.

My theater?

So my nurses, my equipment?

He took his own catheter.

Cowan: Is this funny?

Sister Edwards is
in a difficult position.

No, General, I have been.

For years, I've been
in the very difficult position

of nursing the occasional
spinal patient and watching

them helplessly as they slip
away from us time after time,

and time after time,
all we do is hold their hands

and send a rose to the funeral.

Dr. Guttmann does
more than that.

Bowen: Hey. Wait till they
sit you up proper.

Then you'll know about
bloody air sickness, mate.

Got a good view
of you now, Taff.

Lie me down again,
quick, nurse.

Oh, yeah, that's what
I meant to tell you.

I went to London once.

Never seen so many ugly people.

All on holiday
from bloody Cardiff.

Excuse me.

Bowen: Bull's-eye!

Hey. He's good
at this, Sister!

Edwards: Can I help you?

General Blake sent us.

You--Dr. Guttmann, he wants
some entertainment.

Are there any requests?

Yes, I got one, actually.

Could you possibly--

Uh, no, thank you,
uh, but that was wonderful,

wasn't it?

But our patients can't have
too much excitement.

Edwards:
Mustn't wear them out.

Can't take it, see?

One, two, three.

Wakey, wakey, Corporal.

Bowen: Mad man, you
could have hurt me!

Q: It's as light as air, man.

-Morning, Dr. Guttmann.
-Sergeant.

Bowen: Could have my bloody
nose broke, the mad sod.

William:
Give it a rest, Wynne.

Bowen: It's the only part of me
I can still bloody feel,

so go on, have another go
at breaking it, why not?

Should have moved quicker.

Go on. Chuck it to me, here.

Bowen: Take it and him to
the children's ward

where they bloody belong.

This what you had in mind?

Guttmann:
Excellent but more.

More, more, more, more, more!

Man: Where do you want it?

What is his name?

Davey Dakers.

Davey, we have a bed
for you here.

Bowen: Don't let them dump
you here, mate.

Take your bed and run.
They're all bloody lunatics.

Leave it here.

I will ask the orderlies
to break it up.

How do I explain that
to my sergeant?

You say--you say,
"I was only obeying orders."

She'll love that.

And tell her my spinal unit
will no longer accept patients

brought in coffins of any kind.

They will have mattresses
on stretchers, ja?

General Blake?

Please, one moment.

Ropes.

We need ropes and a punch bag.

Parallel bars.

Q needs all this if he
is to make a difference.

You want a punch bag
in the ward?

Or in the gym.

Or both.

We need a gym or another hut.

I can't get
the most basic supplies.

How can I justify any of this?

Or in the area
we can turn into a gym.

Pulling the weights,
punching the bag,

climbing up the ropes.

Upper body, you see?

And nurses.
I must have more nurses.

You haven't forgotten?

Do you never get tired?

Never!

Edward: Does the man
ever get tired?

Carr: I was beginning to think
he didn't have a home to go to.

A wife he says
and two children.

Well, she must be a saint.

Glad to get a rest
from him, I should think.

Yeah, I know I am.

-Hey, Ludwig!
-Poppa!

How lovely.

Look what Mrs. Kornberg has
brought for the refugees.

Guttmann: Shabbat shalom.

Shabbat shalom.

I let the children stay up
to say good night.

-Eva.
-Poppa.

Denis.

Good night.

Poor Denis.

"Panzer boy,"
they called him.

Last week, it was "Goebbels"
and some rude song.

The girls, they're not
so cruel to Eva, but--

I mean, he doesn't complain,
but I know--

Ludwig?

Lud?

Eva: Mummy?

Denis: But it's our wireless.

Well, never mind.

Never mind!

Announcer: ...from a factory
somewhere in Great Britain,

-on this lovely spring day.
-This good?

Annoucner: Half an hour
of music, laughter,

and bulldog spirit.

It's "Workers' Playtime."

"Shirkers' Playtime," more like.

Man: Yeah, especially
for Wynne.

26...99...100.

Man: Didn't Q say 50?

Just think, boys.

Eh? We could be slaving away
in some factory somewhere

if we hadn't been lucky
enough to sign up.

I'd be down at the pub.
Opening time.

William: What day is it?

Neil: Tuesday.

Cross country then,
double Latin.

Carr: Oh, on Tuesdays, we
always had needlework and RI.

Good God, am I the only bugger
who's ever done

a decent day's work here?

William: Come on, Wynne.

One, two...

Blake: 37 patients, two wards,
and still they come.

-Then we reach Paris.
-Heh heh heh.

-What?
-Nothing, nothing.

"We"? I am English also
here, where it matters.

English through
and through, I'd say.

Well, you've filled up
Mr. Cowan's ward already.

Whitehall are hell-bent
on sending us

all their spinal injuries,

so we'll be busy here
for a while.

-A vote of confidence, ja?
-Yes.

They will come to Dr. Guttmann,
and all will be well.

Man: Chuck the ball. Go on.

Q: That's it 4.

5...6.

Edwards: You're looking
so much better.

That's it.

See?

You must be so pleased,
Dr. Guttmann.

Ja.

For him, a few
stumbling steps.

For others, they lift a cup.

All progress.

It's bloody boring.

Do you all sorts
of good, this will.

Strengthen your balance,
build your grip.

I'd rather be
working on my legs.

Q: Ah, here we go again.

Change the song sheet, William!

My feet get cold.
I can feel them.

We should be working on
that, Q, not this arm stuff.

Don't you think, Doctor?

Time to move on,
get the old pins working again?

Some days, it's better.

Reflexes do not come and go.

But sensation...

I have pins
and needles, and...

But it's been a long time.

Frank's walking.

Frank had feeling
within a few weeks

of his accident.

With you, it's...
6, 7 months.

I'm not giving up.

That is good.

If you can manage the hope
and still find your new life,

but if your stubbornness
and determination stops you

from moving on
and planning your future--

If I can't walk,
I have no future.

And now you sound
like your father.

All I ever wanted to do was
to join up, get out there,

and get the Hun.

Sorry.

And he got you.

The war will end one day.

Your country
will need you again.

They will need
scientists, architects,

solicitors, chemists.

Help me to walk again.

I'm sorry, William.

It's not going to happen.

Ohh!

Out of my way!

Sorry, sorry.

Edwards: William!

William, are you all right?

Piss off, you bloody
interfering old bitch!

Man: Sir, Dr. Guttmann.

Um, your houseman.

I'll just, uh--

No, he will tell us
when he wants help.

He is not dumb.

So my houseman.

Where have you been hiding?

Guttmann: William?

Cigarette?

Bowen: Ta, Doc.

Hey, don't be daft, son.

Good night, gentlemen.

William?

Has good balance,

he's working on moving
from bed to chair.

I spoke to him
about his prognosis.

Yes.

We're still picking up
the pieces.

Wynne.

Refusing to let
his family visit.

It's a long way
from Port Talbot.

And any other excuse
he can think of.

Has anyone met his wife?

She's a very nice woman,
but he can be brusque with her.

With everyone.

We will ask her to visit.
Remind me.

That's it.

So what now?

What do they need next?

What are they missing?

All feeling below the waist.

We have routine,
we have exercise, we have work,

we can wear them out.

Something, though.

There is something to
defeat the boredom.

The tick-tick-tick-tick-tick
of the clock.

It's ward
entertainment tomorrow.

Joseph and Josephina?

Mr. Cowan arranged it.

This man is anti-Semitic.

Well, I suggested
the Windmill Girls,

but would anyone listen?

Edwards: Heh.

Cowan: Ahem.

High blood pressure, you think?

In parts of him,
I'm bloody certain.

Bowen: Lovely, girls,
bloody, bloody lovely.

Bowen: Oh, yes.

Look at that, Will.

You wouldn't kick any
of them out of bed, would you?

Man: Whoo!

Neil: Well done, ladies!

Very nice!

Beautiful girls, ja?

Why don't you go back
in and ogle them?

Bloody sadist.

You are one
of the lucky ones, my boy.

You stand to attention
when you wake.

For God's sake.

If you rule yourself out
of the competition,

don't come weeping to me
if you do not win.

William: I've never had one.

Girls, I've--I've never...

I don't know who I am
or what I wanted to be

or why I even joined up.

God, this isn't my life.

Did you think you
would make plans

and life would follow
them obediently?

My dad's ashamed of me.

He's bloody mortified.

He thought I'd go so far.

Now he has a son
who can't stand or walk

or piss or shit.

Wouldn't you be ashamed?

No.

If it wasn't for you,
I'd be dead by now.

You don't have to thank me.

I'd never do that, never.

Don't bet on that.

Woman: There he is.
Go on, race you!

Daddy!

Bowen: There they are,
Daddy's girls.

All right?

Welsh cakes.

Right.

Come on, then.

Hungry I am.

Run!

Stairs will not be a problem.

Upper-body muscles
will pull him up,

and gravity will take him down.

You mean he'll fall?

He's joking. German.

Only they've announced
a whole new road

of prefabs on Gabalfa Road.

I've put our name
down for one.

-No stairs.
-Good.

After your trial weekend,
I'll write a letter insisting

you are offered
the most suitable.

Hold on, now.

See, I'm not sure
about this weekend idea.

-Next month, I thought.
-No.

We can do it.

I'll have everything
ready for you.

When we see how well you do,
we can start making plans

for your discharge.

-Really?
-Why not?

In time for my birthday.

Here we go.

-Ohh!
-Nice shot.

William: Go on, Neil.
Show him how it's done.

Go on, Neil.

Go on

Neil: Ehh, I'm
at the wrong angle.

Shut up and get on with it.

Who's winning?

It's not a competition.

Only because he's losing.

Depends on who's
keeping score.

Yeah, Wynne, you're
trailing by 3?

Shut it.

Are you athletic?

-I ran for my school.
-Good.

Then run to the gym and bring
us back some tennis balls

or, even better, golf balls.

-Um--
-That way.

Go, run, run, run, run, run!

Run, run, run!

Neil: Look at that--
they say we're unfit.

Guttmann: And hockey sticks.

Bring us back some hockey
sticks and golf sticks.

Clubs, Poppa.

-Clubs!
-Yes!

One...two...three!

Yes, 3, bullies!
You went too early.

Guttmann:
That is the German way.

Q: It was the German way that
got us into this bloody war.

Guttmann: Right, first to 5,
ja, starting now.

Oh, hang on.

Bloody hopeless.
England against Germany.

Terrible.

Don't know how you play
hockey in Germany, but...

Well...we play it well.

They'll have to be bloody fit,
our lads, to play that.

Bloody fit.

-Come on, lads.
-Good, good.

Pass it. Give it to me.

There you go, go on,
go on--whoa!

We're gonna need a gym, sir,
so we don't have to pack away

every mealtime.

Guttmann: Good, good.

And some rules.

No hitting above 3 foot.

Careful, gentlemen, please.

Try not to break something.

But in your letters,
you were so--

Yes. I'm sorry.

You were getting sensation
back, hot and cold.

I was fooling myself.

Mrs. Heath:
It's early days yet.

Apparently not.

My nerve endings
haven't grown--mended.

So...now they won't?

No.

Now this is it.

This is me.

No, dear, not now.

It's all right.

Let's see what this is.

Ruth.

Couldn't have gone anyway.

Don't know why we brought it.

William: There it is, Wynne.
Get it, get it, get it.

-Go, Wynne!
-Come on, come on!

Now, pass out to me,
pass out to me.

Guttmann: Help Mr. Wolf, ja?

William: Now push forward,
push forward!

Bowen: Sweep, sweep!

Right, right, right,
right, I'm on it.

Defense!

Yeah!

Come on!

Q: What are you,
a lot of bloody old women?

Get in there!

I don't see you scoring
any bloody goals, Q.

Man on radio: ♪ In the snow ♪

Whoa, whoa, whoa!

Carr: Careful, go on!

-Again, again!
-Get on, you!

-Here, here!
-Get out of the way, you berk.

-Shoot!
-Come on!

Yay!

Come on, boys, come on.

100%, 100%.

William: Down the wing,
down the wing!

Yeah!

Bravo! Bravo!

Staff two, spinals three.

Argh, my bloody hand!

So get out
of the bloody way then.

Edwards: William,
it's only a game.

-Calm down.
-Give it some welly!

Pull it back,
pull it back, pull it back!

Gently, gentlemen.

Not feeling sorry
for himself now, ja?

Mine, mine!

Edwards: Gently, gentlemen.
It's--it's too rough.

Black and blue.

And cuts, cuts!

All our work to keep
them bedsore-free.

An absolute disgrace.

William:
We're not complaining.

Bowen: We can't feel anything,
sister, that's the thing.

-Silly, silly men.
-Ooh hoo!

William--he's gotten
been badly injured.

Last time I saw this patient,
he had both legs intact.

Guttmann: Simple fracture.

Accidents happen.

Yes, apparently so
on your ward.

Just thank God it's only
a fracture and nobody's dead.

Irresponsible,
unethical, bloody shameful.

If I hadn't got better things
to do, I'd take this

to the General Medical Council.

Right. We've got to get him
lifted onto the trolley.

Nurse, you take the arms--

William: No, it's fine.

Cowan: Oh, please.

Mind your ankle.

Now then, Heath,
you may not remember me.

Oh, I remember you.

You're the bastard who was
measuring me for a coffin.

If you'd had your way,
I wouldn't be able

to move a muscle.

Bowen: Come on, Q.
Get a bloody move on.

You know how long it is
since I had a proper pint

in a proper bloody pub?

Bowen: If you get
between me and my beer,

I will not be responsible
for my actions!

Come on! Come on!
Last man there's a sissy!

Move back.
Let the thirsty man through!

Wrong way! You guys are
going the wrong way!

Quick. Spin around,
spin around.

Get out the way,
get out the way!

Right, my good man.

We will have
3 stouts, 3 ales,

two eggnogs with lemonade,
and two double whiskeys.

All the times we've
dreamt of this, eh?

William:
And a sherry for Nurse Carr.

Men: Ooh!

Oh, and you see
that man there?

He pays for nothing.

You don't take
his money tonight.

This is our treat, Doc.

Ha ha ha!

-Come on, Wynne!
-Ohh!

Come on, Wynne!

Q: Stroke of genius, sir.

I don't think our lads have
had to buy a single drink.

Guttmann: Our brave boys.

Given them their war
back, eh, Poppa?

This time with hockey sticks.

We'll take you all on
if you think you're man enough.

All right, next one.

I'm surprised Will had
the broken bone and not you.

Well, it evened up a few
scores, that's for sure.

OK, give us a go
on the count of 3.

Bowen: One...two...three.

Ah! Ah!

Too rough,
too much competition.

Shame, though.

What do you know
about basketball?

-Shoot!
-Ohh!

When can I get this off, Doc?

When you stop scowling
at the world

as if we are your enemies.

So 1960, then.

You're a bunch of girlies!

Girly, girly, girly!

Think of the things he can do,
not the things he can't.

I can't dance in a ballet,
I can't run a mile,

I can't play the trombone.

Mr. Heath: Don't belittle it.

Do not minimize
what's happened to my son.

Guttmann:
He has to rise above it.

Mr. Heath: Well, where you come
from, obviously, they do things

a bit differently.

Guttmann: Young men are
the same the world over.

Mr. Heath:
Until they are crippled.

Guttmann: Still young men.

Mr. Heath: I've found somewhere
prepared to take him.

It's a very nice place,
it's quite near the school,

just a few miles away.

This place, what is it?

He can see the sense in it.

Mr. Heath, what sort of place?

It's a retirement home.

Your son is 20.

It's our job
to take care of him.

He'll never marry,
never have children.

We know that.
That's a tragedy.

We thought last year
when this first happened

that--that we lost him.

That might have
been a blessing.

-Well, he's still here--
-A blessing.

so we have to make sure
he'll always be looked after

by kind people,
even after we've gone.

Today, I realize the height
of the mountain we must climb,

every one of you and me.

There are walls to scale
and break down

and sacred cows to deal with.

What are you doing here?

What is the purpose
of this place?

Is it to create dependent
but smiling children,

hiding from the world?

A hushed room full
of forgotten men

and caring--too caring--staff?

No.

It is to send you out of here.

Out!

With ambition!

And purpose!

And no sacred cows,
you must have none.

And you must have none.

These are men.

They have desires.

Some of you will be fathers
and husbands, understand that.

And you'll have all the same
problems as everyone else

and a few more, besides.

Rent, tax--I pay tax.
So will you.

You have a right
to these problems.

I will not protect
you from them.

I will not!

Bloody tax.

We still have to pay tax.

Right, who's been
upsetting Poppa?

My dear General,
what do you know

about the provision of housing?

-I'm sorry.
-Who do I talk to?

The Minister for Pensions?

Or do I speak
to Mr. Churchill?

Just get them fit.

Nobody expects you to
solve their problems.

Ah, but you see, it is their
problems that hold them back,

that stop them getting fit.

How can they face the future
if they cannot see it?

And I know you're
going to help.

It's bad enough in Germany.

Everything in duplicate.

Mr. Churchill--
3 copies of everything.

Stupid!

Liebling.

English.

Even "darling"?

Come.

Come. Enough, enough.

Who are you thinking of?

Everyone.

Left behind.

They're dancing with us.

Then we must make
the best of it.

Yeah.

♪ Jeepers, creepers ♪

♪ Where'd you get
those peepers? ♪

♪ Jeepers, creepers,
where'd you get those eyes? ♪

♪ Gosh all get up,
how'd they get so lit up? ♪

♪ Gosh all get up,
how'd they get that size? ♪

♪ Da da ♪

Q: About 2 or 3 feet.

Guttmann: One weekend.

I can't land myself on my wife,
not like this.

You dress yourself, you take
yourself to the lavatory,

you even bathe yourself.

I want a divorce.

You are nervous
about your sexual relationship.

I want a divorce.

Women are gentler
with these things than we are.

We must perform, ja?

But maybe the lady,
maybe she just wants--

Don't you bloody say it,
don't you dare.

"She just wants a cuddle."

A cuddle she can
get from a dog.

With you, she wants a husband,

but there is more than
one way to skin a cat.

I keep telling you,
I am divorcing her!

Listen.

You go home for the weekend.

When you come back,
you can divorce her.

Carr: It's over!

Ha ha ha, it's over!

Victory!

Oh! I don't know what
to do with myself!

Ha ha ha!

Oh, they're coming home!

Ha ha ha!

-What's wrong with asking?
-I'm not asking.

Couldn't say you don't
have enough staff now.

Not as bad as it was.

Taking names
for a darts tournament.

You up for it, sir?

Against you lot? No chance.

Neil: Come on, sir.

Two bob in the kitty,
winner takes all.

Carr: Hey, I'll have a go.

Neil: No, you won't.

They got enough problems
without losing an eye.

Blake: What now for you, Q?

Uh, demob, I suppose.

Civvy street,
rest of our lives.

Cardigan, slippers, can't wait.

You, Ludwig?
Back to Germany?

The Germany
I love is long gone.

Q: British forever, eh, sir?

Just like all of us.

And Nurse Carr has been
accepted as a student nurse.

Guttmann: Ah, so it will be
"Sister Carr" one day, ja?

Very, very frightening!

There you go.

I can manage.
I'm not a bloody basket case.

Wynne, mate.
Don't take it out on the nurses.

Don't you ever tell me what
to bloody do, Lord Snooty.

You've got it so easy,
what do you know?

The perfectly balanced
Welshman,

a chip on each shoulder.

Aye. Well, better than being
a spoiled brat who's sulking

'cause he can't accept he's
just like the rest of us--

a hopeless, helpless invalid

for the rest of his life.

Neil: Oh, come on.

Wynne, it's only
one weekend, Wynne.

Be warned, boys.

You know what we'll be
out there, don't you?

Cripples, freaks,
sideshow half-men.

Guttmann:
I see you next week.

Bowen: I'll have thrown
myself under a bus.

Ah, I told you that upper-body
strength would come

in useful one day.

Boen: You are Hitler's bloody
secret weapon, mate.

You should be
behind barbed wire.

Many of my colleagues
say the same.

William: Come on.
Who's marking who?

-Ja, ja!
-That's it!

Guttmann:
Ja, ja, ja, ja!

William: Frank, cover him,
cover him, cover him!

Guttmann:
Ja, ja, ja, ja, ja!

William:
With a spin, that's it!

Q: Ah...
cardiac ward, Doctor?

The gentle care of Dr. Cowan?

Come on, girly-girly-girls!

Guttmann: Never again.

Q: Well, you sent
Wynne off home.

Only got yourself to blame.

We need more teams
to compete with,

wheelchair teams.

I'll nick a tank, shall I?

Mow down a couple
of bus queues,

bring the numbers up.

We could try
The Star and Garter.

Not just one team--

a tournament.

A games, a national games.

For the nation of...

Ruritania, Shangri-La,
where do you think?

Ooh, tetchy.

Great Britain, of course.

Paralyzed sportsmen
from across the country.

Why not?

Petrol's rationed, Doctor.

How are we going
to get them here?

I'm sure Q could solve
a little problem like that.

Well, I don't even know
whether I'm gonna stay on.

Of course you are.
It's the best job in the world.

-Salt?
-Oh.

Now, that musician,
Davey Dakers.

Such a nice man.

Yeah, doing well, Davey.

Great breathing exercise,
the bassoon.

Fantastic lips.

He's a cheeky little
Welshman, isn't he?

Get it up, then, did you?

We skinned the cat,
oh, yes we did.

Hey, teacher's pet.

Homemade rhubarb wine.

It is lethal, boy,
I'm telling you.

All right then, was it?

What do you think?

Only come back to
get signed off.

I'll miss you.

Got to get yourself
out there, boy.

Well...a life worth living?

Have to get yourself a girl,
find out for yourself.

I had a girl.

Ruth. I know.

Jitterbug.

It was the Lindy hop.

Plenty more fish in the sea.

Swimming by. I've seen them.

It'll be all right, you know?

I don't know.

Bloody telling you.

Listen to your elders
and much, much betters.

Poppa knows what is what.

Everything will be good,
good boy, ja?

Good luck. Thank you.

Carr: We'll miss you.

Mrs. Bowen: Thank you.

We'll miss you. Good luck.

Home, James.

Guttmann: Time for you
to make some decisions.

Looking to the future, ja?

William:
I know I can't stay here.

Guttmann: No room at the inn.

You must get back
on your donkey and move on.

William: Where to?

I can't go back
to school, can I?

I don't know.
University, maybe?

No, they wouldn't take me.

There's this home that
my dad's arranged.

Where you will have
a good view of the lawns.

My father says--

I cannot make it
any plainer, William.

If you do not look
after yourself,

your father will.

Do you want that?

If you don't decide what you
want to do with your life--

your life, not your parents'--

then you will be
an eternal child.

If you do not find your voice
and your balls,

we will all have
wasted our time.

Do not ask me what you do now.

Tell me.

I don't know.

Then I can't help you.

Good, ja?

I'd like to raise the subject
of the spinal unit

extracurricular activities.

Extracurricular.

I haven't brought
my dictionary.

Your ridiculous
National Games.

Ah, yes. Good news
travels fast.

Blake: What's your
objection, Mr. Cowan?

Well, where do I start?

What is the point of it?

Wheelchairs racing
across the lawns

and croquet and--

Guttmann: Only javelin
and archery this year.

This year?

You must have heard about
the Olympics in London, ja?

-Bloody hell.
-Why not?

Because they're cripples.

Not in the Olympics
themselves, alongside.

Parallel to.

For now.

He is mad.

You know they call him
"Poppa," don't you?

That's how much respect
they have for him.

Blake: How many patients
will be attending?

Perhaps 15?

The National Games.
We'll be a laughingstock.

"National" implies the best.

The national cricket team,
the national rugby team.

What are these
people the best of?

The best of men.

For God's sake.

Yes indeed, Mr. Cowan,
for God's sake.

I find this
interrogation insulting.

-Gentlemen--
-He'll be shipping in

a bloody brass band next.

We've already had
the Windmill Girls.

What is it that
so offends you?

Yes, that's the word.
It offends me, it does.

This is a hospital.

We have respectable people
here visiting sick relatives.

We have children
visiting their parents.

I don't understand.

It's not pleasant.

I'm sorry,
but it's not.

People in wheelchairs,
withered limbs,

damaged bodies.

Ah...now I understand.

I'm not going to
a geriatric home.

They're not all old.

There's a little girl
in a basket chair.

You can't live alone.

Why not?

I can dress myself,
bathe myself, wipe my own bum.

There's no need to
talk like that.

What happens if you
fall out of that thing?

"Thing"? My chair?

Wynne's repairing cars
from his,

made a hoisting so he
can lean into the engine.

Wynne has a wife.
He isn't living alone.

We don't know what you want.

To be my own man,
live my own life, wherever I am,

be part of the world.

Guttmann: We hide them away?

Is this it,
is this what you say?

Corporal Bowen
with the bitter humor

and the wife who loves him?

Corporal James with the longing
to teach history?

Davey Dakers, who plays
the baboon like an angel?

And William Heath, who has
fought longer and harder

to survive than you
will ever have to.

We are ashamed of them?

I'm not saying that.

No--you are not honest
enough to say it.

I'm sorry, William,
but we can't allow that.

Now, we've got a room
waiting for you--

I'm 20, Dad.

Being like this
doesn't make me 6 again.

-I am an adult.
-We've written our wills.

Everything we have,
we leave to you in trust.

You don't trust me
with a checkbook!

Just bugger off, Dad, because
I don't want any of it.

If I walk out of those gates
now, I will not come back.

-Jim!
-It's all right, Mum.

-Let him go.
-No, I'm serious.

If you're gonna turn
your back on what

me and your mother
have arranged--

I am.

You won't see us again
until you see sense.

In that case...

He doesn't mean it.

He's got the tickets.

I know. It's all right.

Cowan: Delusions of grandeur!

I will have my parallel
Olympics, Mr. Cowan.

Oh, it gets better and better!

I will, and the rest
of you can go to the devil.

Yes, very adult.

General Blake, I propose
we take a vote on it.

All those who oppose
Dr. Guttmann's proposal to hold

a National Games here
at Stoke Mandeville.

Q: Right then, Private,
look lively.

Sergeant Major on the javelin.

Right, no smirking, sunshine.

There we are.
It's all in the grip.

That's how it's done.

Englishman says,
"I thought they were coconuts."

Ha ha!

We've made the "Times"!

Carr: Show me!

No pictures. I thought
they'd do a photograph.

For God's sake,
woman, give it here.

Right, listen up.

"Foreign doctor who has
played so large a part

in the treatment of these
paraplegics--"

They shouldn't have
called him that.

It's not an insult.

Well, it's not exactly
a compliment, it is?

-"Foreign"?
-Can I continue?

Tomorrow's chip paper.

You're famous.

About time, too.

Say some nice things
about you, Poppa.

They would say anything.

William: Coming through!

What's your hurry?

Welsh contingent, Poppa.

Should be here by now.

Gut, ja?

-All right.
-All right.

-They here yet?
-Not yet.

Nurse: Good luck, William!

Daddy!

Mrs. Bowen: Wynne!

Bowen: Sister Edwards? Never.

William: Davey Dakers, no joke.

Telling me it's no joke.

Bad enough being bloody
paralyzed without waking up

next to that.

She's all right.

And what about you?

I thought you'd be
fixed up by now.

Funny you should say that.

-There is this--
-This what?

This girl.

I knew it!

You dirty dog,
you dirty, dirty dog.

See you in a bit.

All right, son.

Mrs. Heath: You look well.

Hello, Paul.

I am Dr. Guttmann,
and you are safe.

I've broke my back.

It seems so, yes,

but you are safe now,
and we will look after you.

Kill me...please.

Put me out of my misery.

We will leave your misery
far behind, I promise you.

Bastard!

Kraut bastard!

Nurse Audrey, start
a fluids chart for Paul

and inform Q he has
a new customer.

-Nicely done, nicely done.
-Well done!

-How's it going?
-Shh!

Oh, sorry.

Q: Corporal Bowen, second throw.

Bugger.

I've only got one throw left.

You'll do it.

I've done my wrist in--

Q and his weightlifting.

We could tighten it.

It hurts like hell
if you do that.

Is it worth it?

Your hand, your pain.

Q: Final round,
gentlemen, final round.

There's a new,
uh, Hillman Minx out.

It's a coupe.

Wynne's been telling me
he could adapt it

for hand controls.

Don't tell your mum yet.

Let it creep up on
her, all right?

Guttmann: William, come.

Redeem our honor,
for God's sake.

Stoke Mandeville has to
win something today.

Edwards: Come on, William!

Q: Private Heath's final throw.

Carr: Good luck, Will!

And first prize for
archery is...Ben!

Carr: Help!

Help me!

Q: Go on, Sister,
between the shoulder blades!

And the first place
for javelin is...

William!

Edwards:
Well done, William.

Bowen: You deserve it, boy.

Carr: Whoo!