Original subtitles

Downloaded from YTS.MX

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[water rushing]

♪

[water rushing]

♪

[thunder rumbling, rain falling]

♪

[footsteps]

[exhales]

[pulling shade]

[sniffs]

[exhales]

- Maybe today.

♪

Hm.

[pulls shade]

[containers clattering]

- Hm.

[exhales]

- You did say you went shopping yesterday, Mrs. Hartridge,

did you?

- Oh, I am sorry, Colonel-- no use.

We're fresh out of it, and I should

have checked yesterday before I made up my list.

- The marmalade, then, Mrs. Hartridge.

That will do, thank you.

- I know how you love the jam.

♪

[sighs]

[tosses magazine on table]

♪

[back door closes]

What about a spin today, Colonel?

Time for you to get out and about.

- I was thinking about a walk, actually.

- Why not?

Where shall we go?

- I meant on my own, really.

There's a walking path, several kilometers,

not very busy.

Runs completely through Oxfordshire.

Completely repaved.

Best thing for me, really.

- You know I can't do that, Colonel.

I can't leave you on your own.

With your sight?

Now, what would happen if you fell or got lost?

- Nothing! Absolutely nothing!

For God's sakes, woman, why do you think

I've got that bloody mobile phone?

- You don't even know how to use it, though, Colonel.

Really!

It would mean my job if the agency knew

I was letting you wander on your own.

- It's just a walk.

- I know what we can do.

Why not a trip to see your old friend Mr. Peeks?

Your friend from the war?

You always seem to enjoy his company when we go out there.

- At the hospice?

[sarcastically]: Well, that'll cheer me up, certainly.

- It's not me, Colonel.

You must understand.

You've had three housekeepers fired in the last three years

for letting you wander on your own.

It's agency rules.

Remember what your brother said.

If it happened again,

he wouldn't be held responsible.

You'd have to leave the house.

♪

PEEKS: Quite a piss-up I heard it was, too.

[chortles]: Two bottles of Macallan.

I only had a shot of it, meself-- they insisted.

[chuckles]: If I were ten years younger...

[radio playing softly]

Oh...

Ta!

- Aren't you afraid

you're going to unsettle your stomach with that?

- Maybe, Colonel.

But I'd rather the blood in me stool than the blood in me eye,

if you take my meaning.

- Have you heard from anyone?

- I wouldn't exactly say heard.

Here.

[exhales]

- Cramwell.

260 Squadron. - Yeah.

You remember Cramwell, sir?

Betcha, Betcha Cramwell. [chuckles]

- Betcha Cramwell...

My God, man, where has he gotten himself to in all these years?

- Moved to Canada, can you believe it?

Was living with his daughter someplace

outside Montreal with a French name

I couldn't pronounce.

- What is this? It's not a newspaper.

- Nah, it's a print-out from the internet.

That's how I get all my news these days.

You might try it yourself, sir.

Not all the new things is bad these days, really.

Fair number of seniors on it-- great way to get in touch.

- I suppose so.

What are you listening to now?

- Ah, it's the recaps from the last match.

- We beat Spain, did we?

- No, embarrassed them, three-null, ha!

This new goalie, Kokot, he's a machine.

- [chuckles]

- What's so funny, sir?

- Kokot, he's a Slovenian. - Oh.

Well, I know he's from somewhere like that.

I was going to say Czech or Hungarian.

- No, Peeks.

Names are shared throughout the region,

by the Slovaks, the Croats, and even the Germans.

Kokot is purely Slovenian.

- You'd be in a position to know, would you, sir?

- I would.

Means rooster.

I remember a farmer, in particular,

who used to come to the head of the soup line...

Kokot...

Kokot.

♪

Who is that?

- Where?

- There, sitting in the corner.

She's been sitting that way for over an hour, I'm sure.

- Huh, I didn't realize your eyes had improved so much

with those glasses. - No, they haven't.

Just you get used to seeing the shadows

in the corners of your eye and... then they move.

- She moved? - Hm.

- Well, that's news.

Hadn't moved as far as I can tell since I been here.

- It's a woman? - Hm.

- Nurse...

- Yes, sir? - May I ask...

What's wrong with her?

- Her?

Not a thing.

She's been here long as I can remember.

Never says a word, far as I can tell.

I think she's a mute.

I wouldn't worry about her, sir.

♪

- Forgive me, old chap.

- Righto.

- Excuse me.

♪

[speaking Slovenian]:

- [speaking Slovenian]:

♪

- Nurse... Nurse!

NURSE: What is it, sir? There's no need to shout.

- How long has this woman been here?

- I can't be exact, but I'm sure it's at least five years.

What of it? - Five years!

And in all that time,

nobody has bothered to find out what language she speaks?

- Don't take that tone with me, sir!

This is a hospice, not a hotel.

- Do you know where she's from?

- I couldn't tell you-- could be Liverpool, for all I know.

- Slovenia!

- Where's that?

- Good God, woman-- Yugoslavia!

If I hadn't detected her origins,

that poor woman might have spent the rest of her life

in the equivalent of solitary confinement!

You... should be... ashamed.

- How dare you speak to me like that!

It's not my business to know where everyone comes from,

only to make sure they're seen to.

- I want tea brought for the both of us.

- My dear Colonel, this is not an inn.

We do not provide hospitality.

- [speaking Slovenian]:

[speaking Slovenian]

[in English]: How kind of you to introduce yourself.

- Well, I, I haven't yet.

My name is Malcolm, I'm a retired soldier.

- Malcolm? - Hm.

- Surely, you're one of us?

- Ah, there you are, Peeks.

Go to the head nurse,

ask her to get my housekeeper, Mrs. Hartridge.

She's sitting in the car probably smoking cigarettes.

I want her to bring refreshments to this woman

and myself immediately.

- Sir!

- Talk to you later!

♪

MALCOLM: It's not for me, it's for her.

I'm sorry I can't remember more of your language.

There was a time.

It was my job, you know.

Intelligence, communications.

There is something I wish I could tell you.

Perhaps when I get home tonight,

I'll write it down, translate it.

I'm sure my old box of dictionaries

is around someplace.

There was a time when I could have recited

an old folk tale about a thieving chicken.

- [laughs]

- Ah, sorry to have abandoned you, Peeks.

PEEKS: Not at all, sir.

Obvious there's a connection here.

So... what is the connection?

MALCOLM: Just the language, old chap.

- Oh, is that so?

Thought there might be something else.

MALCOLM: Well, language brings back

memories of its own, doesn't it?

In the past ten minutes

I've been sitting here with this lady,

I've managed to disinter

several old memories.

It's been quite unexpected and exhilarating.

Have a Cadbury, Peeks.

She's not eating all that much.

And say "dober dan" to Mrs. Ternovshek.

It means "good day."

♪

♪

[water rushing]

♪

[footsteps]

♪

MRS. HARTRIDGE: Will I switch the telly to the Nature channel?

They're repeating that Sir David Attenborough.

You remember you enjoyed that one?

- I do.

Thank you very much, Mrs. Hartridge.

♪

It was the Scots Regiment.

That I do remember.

[sets cup down]

♪

[exhales]

[heavy breaths]

[sighs]

Not yet.

♪

- That a new aftershave, Colonel?

- Not at all.

- [chuckling]: Just putting a little more

behind your neck, are you?

- You would tell me if it was too strong,

wouldn't you?

- I think it's lovely, Colonel.

It's very nice to see you so excited about the day.

Back to the hospice, are we?

- Hm, there's a lot to catch up with the news.

I've got to bring Mrs. Ternovshek up to date.

- Is that her name? - Hm.

- And not a soul in the world to look after her now.

- She did to mention to me a brother, but...

He's passed away.

I think it was just the two of them here from now on.

- How long had they been here?

- Well, since the war, I imagine.

I can't go digging through that rubbish right now.

I'll look into it after I get back this afternoon.

- Have a look at what, Colonel?

- Oh, nothing.

Nothing for you to bother about.

If you could just bring the car around.

- Hm.

♪

MALCOLM: Dober dan!

- [chuckles]

- I'll place these in her room for you, Colonel.

- They don't do much with it.

He's a nice enough priest, the gardener here,

but not very imaginative.

- You mean flowers?

- [chuckles]: No, I mean vegetables.

I used to grow-- my brother and I both--

hundreds of pounds of tomatoes.

And chili peppers, and oregano.

- Really?

In this climate?

- Oh, we had a little house,

all glass...

- Ah, a greenhouse.

- Yes, that's it.

He used to have fellows from the college,

former students, would come to help us.

- Yes, you mentioned he was a professor.

And you?

- I was happy enough to be his housekeeper.

- But your own husband?

- [exhales]: Good for nothing.

- Forgive me.

I thought he had passed away.

- Ah, that may be so.

He left me and went back to Tolmin,

in the mountains, years ago.

My brother occasionally got a card from their family.

But we don't really know what became of him.

- I see.

- And you?

- Oh... I never married.

It just never seemed to work out,

me and a woman in a house.

But I have a brother and a sister.

I don't lack for company.

- [chuckles]: Ah, English bachelor.

- Hm.

- But I ask, though,

when were you in Slovenia?

- I beg your pardon.

Yes.

Wonderful memories.

- Ah.

You love our mountains.

- Yes, exactly.

I used to love it when the major would send me

down once a month for a few days to the base in Udine.

The mountains around Nova Gorica.

In a strange way, they reminded me of the hills around here.

Well, to the north of here, I mean to say.

One could go off for hours and follow the river,

the river Soca, along the ridge.

- You were in Austria, then?

- On the border.

Not for very long.

Closing months of the war.

- That was a dangerous time.

- [word catches]

May I ask you,

when did you and your brother

exactly arrive in England?

- We stayed first in an Italian camp.

A few years, and then we went to Germany.

But we left Slovenia

right, the summer after the war.

- Ah.

♪

♪

♪

[exhales]

I can't do this right now.

Blast.

[birds chirping]

♪

♪

- [exhales]

Sorry to have to break the news to you, Colonel, but...

Mrs. Ternovshek...

Well, she passed away last night.

NURSE: In her sleep, it was, sir.

Not a stir from her.

Real peaceful, like.

- I'm so sorry, Colonel.

- In her sleep?

I see.

- We did try to call, sir, but, well...

You must've left the house by then.

MALCOLM: Yes, that's right.

I really should turn on that bloody wireless phone.

- Fact is, sir,

what you did for her was, well...

I think she was ready after she had some little time

with a kindred spirit.

- We're awfully grateful to you, Colonel.

She was in such happy spirits.

Couldn't stop talking at us all night long,

even though none of us could understand

a word of what she said.

Isn't that so, Mr. Peeks?

- It is, it is.

- Ah... thank you, Peeks.

I hope you don't mind if I don't stay today.

- Not at all, sir.

Not at all.

It's a good thing you did, sir!

Really, don't fret for her.

- Well, steady on, man.

Who said anything about fretting?

Really, Peeks.

Sometimes you can overdo it.

♪

MRS. HARTRIDGE: No marmalade, then, Colonel?

I got the marmalade you love.

- It's jam, Mrs. Hartridge.

Blackberry jam is what I love.

It's marmalade we've been making do with.

- Ah, yes, of course.

I'll make it first on my list today.

I'll fetch the mail and papers for you.

- [sniffs]

- If you need anything, Colonel, I'll be out in the garden.

The vines need trimming again, you know?

- Hm.

♪

♪

[murmuring]: "Mrs. Ternovshek..."

"Donations may be made to..."

[muttering]

Of course, it makes perfect sense

they would send me something like this, but...

It doesn't say where she was buried.

MRS. HARTRIDGE: Is everything all right, Colonel?

I thought I heard you say something.

- I think I shall get ready.

- I think that's a fine idea, Colonel.

It will be good for you to be up and about.

- Peeks...

What would you give to get out of here?

- I'd like to say my right arm, sir.

[chuckling]: But I wouldn't get very far on my cane.

- Have you ever tried?

- Matter of fact, I did, sir.

Right after I first got here.

Walked right out through the French doors one morning.

But it's deceptive.

[sniffs]: Yeah, I'd been staring out the windows,

making a fine adventure for myself

out of what I'd find over the hill.

[laughs]

Nothing but a line of ugly flats,

office buildings, and construction projects.

Truth is...

I like it here now.

- That's because you don't have a mission.

- How's that, sir?

- Everyone needs a little adventure now and then,

to keep alive-- to keep their sanity.

But you can't just do it for ourselves.

That way, you can't maintain the stamina,

can't keep the drive to keep on going.

- I see what you mean, sir.

You... Have you?

Found a mission, sir?

Is that what this is about?

- Perhaps.

- You're not going to tell me what it is, are you, sir?

- I had meant to, old man.

- Oh, I, I understand, sir.

Times isn't what they used to be, and, well,

I'm not as tight-lipped as I used to be.

- Thank you, Peeks.

- Sir!

If it works out-- that is, if,

if you find what you're looking for and make it back--

will you take me next time?

- You have my word on that, Peeks.

- Off you go, then.

Good luck.

♪

[sighs]

[door closes]

♪

♪

[passing traffic]

♪

♪

♪

[gravel scraping]

- [groans softly]

[gasps]

[breathing heavily]

♪

[vehicle passing]

♪

♪

♪

[breathing softly]

DOCTOR: Excuse me.

I couldn't help noticing you appear

to have injured your arm.

- Uh, that's quite possible.

It's quite possible, it's...

It's beginning to feel a little numb.

I took a bad fall back there, at the bridge.

It's a bit muddier than I suspected.

- I'm a doctor-- be happy to take a look at it for you.

- Oh, no, no, no, it'll keep.

- No, it won't, not at your age, if I may say so.

- I tell you, it'll keep.

I've come a long way on these old legs of mine.

And I've got a long way to go before I get home.

- Where are you from?

- Wallingford's where I live.

- Good God-- on foot?

That's nearly ten miles away!

- What of it?

- Look, you'll never make it back on foot

at this point of the day.

There's probably only two hours of daylight left.

Do let me drive you.

- What are you on about?

I'm, I'm quite familiar with this part of the country.

- Well, what was so interesting that you decided to walk

ten miles and risk your health?

Is it a relative of yours?

- No family of mine is buried here.

They sent me this, you know, from the hospice.

And a friend of mine who's there told me where she was buried.

I was so grateful for getting out and about

that I didn't think of what it would come to.

- What?

- Where she was buried.

And who she was buried next to.

It's obviously a family plot.

But there's no marker for her yet.

These things take time, they always do.

- Are you sure you're all right?

- Am I all right? What's the matter with you?

Of course I'm all right-- have you never been

to a mausoleum or gravestone site before?

- Of course I have, but...

I don't see what's so special about this one.

- It's as much a part of my past

as it was of... hers.

I was beginning to feel like an old badger,

stuck in that old home of mine.

She made me get out.

Somehow... she understood.

I had something to tell her,

and I didn't get the chance.

That's the damnable thing.

We could've talked about Bleiburg.

We could've talked about Bleiburg and the trains.

You see the name on the stone?

- Yes, I do, Horvat.

- Her name is Ternovshek.

Obviously a married name.

I don't know what happened to her husband.

She told me that he'd left long ago.

Her brother's name was Horvat.

- Sounds Slavic.

- It is.

It's a name that's been...

Brought back some awful memories.

- What kind of memories?

- It was June 1945.

I was a lieutenant then.

He, he came up to me

by the railroad tracks near the barracks.

We had a makeshift office there by the train depot.

- Where was this?

- Bleiburg.

On the border...

[gasps]: On the border with Slovenia.

The old Yugoslavia, I mean.

[gasps]

Easy!

- Look, I'd better wrap this up for you.

I can't make a sling,

but at least we can make use of my scarf.

You need yours.

Bleiburg, that's in Austria, isn't it?

- Yes.

All the refugees...

Half of them were civilians.

The men, women...

[gasps]: And children.

And then, of course, there was the...

domobranci.

The home guard.

- As far as General Alexander was concerned,

they might as well have been...

Germans.

They fought on the losing side.

We were told to tell them that we were going to put them

on trains to the Italian side,

to Palmanova.

But it was a lie.

And we knew it.

We knew the trains were really going back to Slovenia,

to Tito and the Partisans.

And we knew what was going to become of them.

Horvat knew it, too-- he guessed it.

What are you supposed to do when a man comes up to you,

and speaks his mind,

and tells you the fear that's in his heart?

How do you turn away from it?

And the worst part was...

He had his little sister with him.

- [speaking Slovenian]:

- What did you do?

Did you help them?

- I told him to get rid of his domobranci uniform

and get over to the civilian side.

I kept pointing...

I felt like a bloody fool,

because that's all I could do.

- [speaking Slovenian]:

- He looked me right in the eye and he asked me, "Is it true?

Are the trains really going to take us to Italy?"

I remember the Scottish sergeants

standing on a platform by the barracks,

watching, listening.

And then I told him,

"I'm going to turn my back on you

"for 30 seconds.

"When I turn back, if you're still here,

then yes, the train will take you to Italy."

There was no other way I could think of to help him.

- What happened next?

- Well, when I turned back, he was gone.

I never saw him again.

I always hoped he'd got it,

and he took off that damn uniform.

I hoped he got his little sister out, too.

- And after all these years, they came here to England?

- God knows.

It's just a name on a tombstone here.

There was no way to know.

But she made me want to wish there was.

I'd forgotten so much of it.

- What happened to the others?

The ones who were sent back?

- They were shot, my dear boy.

Like dogs in a ditch.

- How many?

- I'd say about 12,000, maybe more.

Most of them...

a forest outside a little town called Kocevje,

in the south of Slovenia.

- You're not serious?

- Yes. Shot.

Left to die where they fell,

stack upon stack.

Others dumped in caves that were covered over

and filled in to cover the corpses.

- Good Lord.

And nothing has ever been done?

- Of course not.

Even the Communists kept it a secret

until a few years ago, when Slovenia became independent.

And now it's so far back, no one cares about it.

Look at me.

Even I'd forgotten it had happened.

Jolly good job on the arm, by the way.

I feel much better.

- What will you do now?

- Oh, I'll go home-- I've had my adventure.

The old lady has done me a service,

given an old soldier a chance to do something again.

I always wondered if they made it out.

Horvat.

Now she's given me a hope

that maybe they did.

- I do wish you'd let me take you home.

You don't know what the weather will be like.

The slightest rain could bring on pneumonia.

You'd be finished.

- That remains to be seen.

I'll take my chances on foot.

I miss taking chances.

- Sir, I really wish you'd let me.

- Leave me be, Doctor.

Let me be.

[leaves crunching]

♪

♪

♪

♪