Original subtitles

- Hurry up. - Come on.

Did you bring your driving license with you?

What for?

If you fly this thing any lower, you're gonna need it.

Hunt Master to Hounds. This is Level at Angel 6.

- Roger. - Roger.

Roger.

Target at ten o'clock, sir.

I see it, Tommy.

Look at those bastards. Three V-1s ready to take off.

That's enough to flatten another square mile of London.

We're not stopping enough of them, are we, sir?

No, we're just thinning them out a little, Wiley.

Hunt Master to Hounds. Target identified.

Attack intervals of 15 seconds.

Bombs away at 1,000 feet.

Here we go.

Stand by.

Bombs away, sir.

- Stand by with the fly swatter, Wiley. - Sir.

Bombs away.

Bombs away!

Bombs away.

Hunt Master to Hounds. Let's go home.

- Roger, Scotty. - Roger, Scotty.

Bandits, bandits, seven o'clock.

Hunt Master to Hounds. Break, break, break!

Bannister, Clark, get that bastard off Scotty.

My fire control's jammed.

He's copped it, Quint.

Quint, let's get out of here.

Quint, they're climbing for another pass at us.

Dog One, you're leader now, Quint.

Dog One, do you read me? Dog One?

Sir, they're calling you.

Are you all right, sir?

Dog One to Hounds.

Follow me. We're going out low and fast.

Stand easy.

The strike report you radioed ahead was relayed to Command.

You'll no doubt be pleased with the signal I've just received from the Air Marshal.

"Please convey my personal regards to flying officers and men of 641 Squadron."

"Well done."

We didn't even make a dent.

Their launching sites are almost impossible to detect

until they go into operation, but I can assure you,

that Command is giving the V-1 problem the highest priority.

Yes, sir.

That's all.

I'm sorry about Squadron Leader Scott. What happened?

A flight of Messerschmitts jumped us.

He was hit before he could maneuver. Went down in flames.

- No parachutes? - No, sir.

What does one say?

- You were close, weren't you? - We were brought up together.

Really? Were there family connections?

No, my mother and father were killed some time ago.

I've always thought of Squadron Leader Scott's parents as my own.

I see.

I suppose I'd better go and tell them.

It's a hateful business. I can never find the words.

What about his wife?

Would you... I mean...

All right.

Hello, Quint.

Hi, Quint.

Hello, Quint.

What did you say to my sister?

I didn't have to say anything.

Scotty?

You still at the hospital?

Yes, convalescent.

I brought this crowd over. I wish to God I hadn't.

When do you return to duty?

Duty? What duty?

Plying a desk one-handed?

If that's all you think you can handle.

They've offered me a hook.

Makes a marvelous backscratcher, so I'm told.

I'm sure Scotty would settle for it right now.

He's dead.

Did you see it?

Yes.

No parachutes?

There wasn't time.

Did...

Did it burn?

It blew up when it hit the ground.

Beth.

Leave me alone.

Please.

How did she take it?

Do you think I should go to her?

No, I don't think you should go to her. Just let her cry.

You're a hard-nosed bastard, Quint.

Scotty was practically your brother.

That's right, Douglas.

Scotty was practically my brother.

Munroe, meet Major Kemble, Military Intelligence.

Major's got a little job. I thought you were the man for it.

- How do you do? - Sir.

Nothing very exciting, I'm afraid. Milk run, really.

Want to go over. Take a look at this place.

Chateau de Charlon.

- Very pretty. - Yes.

What we're interested in is the underskirts.

You've been briefed on the V-2 rockets that are just starting to hit us?

Yes, sir.

Intelligence has it that there's a V-3, even a V-4 in development.

Larger, more punch, more important, longer range.

We think the development work is being done here at Chateau de Charlon.

That's why I want to take a look.

The Major will be flying with you.

I understood I had a few hours off base, sir.

The weather's closed in over France.

It would take some hours to fit the cameras to your aircraft.

- Twenty four hours be enough for you? - Yes, sir.

I'm going to see my... Squadron Leader Scott's parents.

What time is it?

Half past 4:00.

They'll just be having tea on the terrace.

Come on.

Walk with me Quint, will you?

We were pulling out, you know, ready to go home,

when a flight of Messerschmitts jumped us.

I think they came out of the sun.

It was so quick, Scotty didn't have time to maneuver.

He just appeared to go straight down into the ground. There was...

He had no time, no time at all, to pull out.

I'm sure that it was instantaneous.

When your parents died, and you came to live with us,

Mother and I always admired your spirit, the way you handled your grief

and went on with your life.

That's what they would have wanted me to do.

I only hope we can do as well, Quint.

- You'll be leading the squadron now? - Yes.

Good. Mother and I will be proud of you.

There's Charlon.

How close do you want to go?

Part their hair, Squadron Leader.

Noisy lot, weren't they?

That's a lot of flak for one chateau.

They must have something they don't want seen.

Which is a good reason for us to have to go in again.

How close do you want to go this time?

Knock their bloody heads off.

You had enough yet?

You okay, Major?

Let's go home.

More trouble, I'm afraid.

I think they got the hydraulics.

It ought to be a bumpy landing.

Major! Major!

Come on, smartly now.

- Kemble? - He's in there.

Smash the cockpit.

Smash the cockpit.

I just hope those bloody pictures are worth it.

Away you 90-

That's the Squadron Leader's ready room. Through there, ma'am.

I'll wait outside.

Thank you.

It's you.

I came for Scotty's things.

I was gonna bring them over.

I'm sorry, but I just wanted to see this place.

I forgot that you...

No, no. That's all right.

I saw Scotty's batman on the way over.

He was going to fetch a uniform of Scotty's.

It was at the cleaners.

How's Douglas?

He's gone back to the hospital to get one of those artificial hands fitted.

He said you convinced him.

I did?

You jolted him, Quint.

- That's what he needed. - Yes.

You look tired.

Have you been flying?

Yes, just routine. It was a milk run, really.

I should have known better. You're resting. I'll come back when...

No, no, no. That's all right. There's some more stuff in there.

Scotty called this room his confessional,

a place where he faced up to himself.

He envied you, Quint.

He envied me?

He had all the brain.

I cribbed off him all the way through school.

He told me all about that.

And about the girls you passed on to him.

I didn't pass exactly.

He took them.

Me, too?

I put the rest of his things in here.

Sorry.

No, no. That's mine.

Burnt?

No, Quint, not you, too.

Yes?

Vesey, sir.

Yes. Vesey, come in.

The Squadron Leader's uniform, sir. Mrs. Scott asked me to...

I'll get dressed and drive you home.

How many miles does it do to the gallon?

Not many.

Why don't you sell it?

She'll hear you.

She's a temperamental old bitch as it is.

I'm sorry.

It's just that mess life coarsens the vocabulary somewhat.

I know. It played havoc with Scotty's.

You know what I regret most?

Not knowing what sort of father he'd have made.

I'd love to have seen him with his children.

We'd even picked the names.

If there's anything you need or anything you want,

- you will call me, won't you? - Yes.

But don't worry. I'll be all right.

And you don't have to be so formal.

I'm sorry.

It's just that I...

I feel sort of embarrassed.

It's the first time we've ever really been alone together.

When Scotty was with us, we were all part of the same family.

Now, it doesn't feel right somehow.

You feel guilty.

Quint, that's very revealing.

Yes, it is, isn't it? I'm sorry.

Don't keep apologizing. I understand.

- You do? - Yes.

The day Scotty joined the squadron,

his old navigator married a girl

just two weeks after her first husband was killed.

He was a pilot.

I remember being absolutely shocked.

Four days after the wedding, he got shot down.

Then I understood.

Time is so precious.

It's about the only thing they don't give us ration coupons for.

Air Commodore Hufford,

this is Squadron Leader Munroe, Flight Lieutenant...

You flew Kemble over Charlon, didn't you, Munroe?

Yes, sir. That's correct.

Good man, was Kemble.

He'd have been decorated for the results he got. Excellent!

Come and have a look at this.

We made this model from Kemble's photographs.

Hold those a minute, would you, Mason?

Now, what do you suppose that is?

It looks like a tunnel, sir.

Of course it's a tunnel.

We know more about it than that.

Down there,

that's where they're hatching their new bird.

What we want you to do, Munroe,

is to chuck a bomb in there and addle their eggs for them.

In there?

Command plans a low-level, saturation-bomb mission

by at least two squadrons of Mosquitoes.

Now you'd lead a specially-trained flight for this specialist task.

Specialist task? I would say it's near impossible to put a bomb in there.

Nonsense.

Blinds down, Mason.

We'll run that film again.

This is top-secret film, Munroe.

What you're going to see is a development of Barnes Wallis.

The hydraulics start the bomb spinning.

But here's the joker.

This bomb bounces on land.

- In a straight line? - Yes.

Regardless of terrain.

It's beautiful.

It's so beautiful, I've run this print 1,000 times.

The civilian scientists have ironed most of the wrinkles out for you.

Your job will be to perfect the technique under combat conditions.

I think we've seen enough. Thank you, Mason.

There you are, then.

Barnes Wallis, God bless him, has done your job for you practically.

Your bombs would have a time fuse.

Now if you went in at exactly 6O feet...

Why, it'd take months to get that accurate.

Well, you have 10 days to practice.

And I'll tell you why just 10 days.

The French underground reports the first of the Germans' new weapons

will be ready in 12 days.

You'll have special bombsights and dummy bombs to work with.

They're building a replica of the Charlon tunnel right now.

Any justice in the world, you'll be a national hero.

What do you say, Munroe?

What are the odds?

About the same as spitting in an Air Commodore's eye

from an express train, sir.

I like that.

Yes, I do like that. Sense of humor.

He'll do nicely, Wing Commander. Just the man.

Now, get your team together and practice.

Stop that rocket flying, and you'll take years off the war.

Remember that. Years.

You've got 10 days to chuck your bomb down that tunnel.

All right.

Air scoop out.

Air scoop out, sir.

- RPM? - 800.

Stand by. Steady.

Steady.

Bomb away.

Missed!

Bannister, you change your angle of approach.

Sixty feet.

Drop from 6O feet, Bannister.

Roger.

Stand by.

Steady.

Bomb away!

Bomb away!

That's wide. Too wide. Correct your angle of attack.

I thought I was right on the money, skipper.

Steady.

Bomb away.

Bannister, what was your range that time?

Eleven hundred right on 60 feet.

All right, I'm gonna try the same numbers.

Bomb away.

Missed.

Squadron Leader now. My congratulations, sir.

Your usual table, sir.

This way if you please.

We haven't seen you all in so long.

I thought you'd found some other place with better market contacts than we have.

That's not possible, and you know it.

We try to do our best, sir. Especially for our service clientele.

Is Squadron Leader Scott joining you?

No.

- What's not on the menu tonight, Victor? - Chicken.

- Roasted? - To perfection.

Then chicken it is.

Thank you. Thank you.

Scotty never did like chicken anyway.

I think the waiter thinks we're having an affair.

Are you ever afraid, Quint?

Scotty used to be sick with fear before every flight.

- Did you know that? - Yes.

Funny thing, though. When you're flying, you're free.

You're trained to handle every emergency. You're prepared for each eventuality.

It's a pattern that you can react to.

Down here, the confusion starts.

Avast there, ye land lubbers.

You'll walk the plank for this, I promise you.

- What do you think? Bit clumsy at first. - No, you'll adjust.

Adjust, I have. Transformed. I report for duty tomorrow.

- Where? - Quint's group in charge of link training.

That's good news. When did you apply?

Apply? Dear boy, they asked for me.

"Lend a hand," I think the phrase was.

- I forgot. Susan. - Hello.

She's a nurse. She rather likes the ironmongery.

- She's got an itchy back. - Douglas, stop it.

Would you care to join us?

No, I'm not having Beth tell the secrets of the nursery.

Not yet, anyway. Besides, we'll ruin your evening.

Cheerio. Shark meat, the pair of you.

Doug.

When Doug bounces back, he really bounces.

You suggested him for that link training job.

- Well, I... - I'm very grateful, Quint,

for so much.

Food!

Looks delicious.

Okay, that's enough rough air. Bring him in.

Locks in, please.

Do you feel a little God-like controlling the weather?

Quint!

How's the job going?

Apart from being rated next to the dentist on the fliers' pet hate list, okay.

Tests and reaction tests on your men.

Thanks. What's this about Templeton?

Reactions slow and ill-timed. Borderline. Your decision.

He seems all right in the air. Maybe it's exam nerves.

As I said, your decision.

But you are doing a precision job.

You may be doing him a favor if you give him a rest.

Yes, but I wonder how much of a favor it'd be.

- Put him through again. - Right.

- How's Susan? - We're getting engaged.

Why the rush?

No rush. I've got time now.

- Time? - My ticket.

With luck, I should see the war through.

Fliers should never marry. You saw what it did to Beth when Scott...

I'm sorry.

That's all right. I agree with you.

Yes?

What I thought we should... Thank you.

What I thought we should do is get a bottle of champagne,

if there's one to be had, and make a foursome.

- You and Beth, and me and Susan. - Sounds a good idea.

Quint.

I'm being delicately reminded

there is one member of our flight not yet checked out.

- Who's that? - You.

You're way overdue. When shall I write you in for?

As soon as you want to get stood up. See you.

Stand by.

Steady.

Bomb away.

Bull's-eye. Good shot.

Their average is one hit in ten, sir.

We only need one hit.

Three planes can only carry six highballs, sir.

Flight Lieutenant Mason is still pessimistic.

But I say your chaps will continue to improve.

Correct, Wing Commander?

Beth!

I'm all right.

Ff lends?

- Good luck. - And blessings.

Cheers.

Come on, kiss her.

Quint, it's a public place.

No, no, no. Come on, she's your fiancée now.

That's the idea of this stuff, you know. It's supposed to fizz away your inhibitions.

Get away. That's enough.

I'd say you two have been practicing.

Stop it, Quint. You're making Susan blush.

- Is he always like this? - Yes, he's always like this.

We're leaving you two the bottle.

I never did believe in long engagements. Come on.

Neither do I.

Susan, I've had enough. No, no.

I think she's hinting at something.

Come along. I promised to get you home by midnight.

- Midnight? - Yes, all flyboys in their kips by 12:00.

Have fun, you two.

I belong to Glasgow.

Dear old Glasgow town.

But what's the matter with Glasgow?

'Cause it's going round and round

I'm only a common old working chap.

As anyone here can see.

But when I get a couple of drinks on a Saturday

Glasgow belongs to me.

The only way Charlon can be leveled

and the underground laboratory penetrated,

is by extremely accurate saturation bombing.

Squadron Leader Munroe, along with Bannister and Clark,

will take off with highball bombs to destroy the tunnel.

The second wave, consisting of 636, 579 and 663 squadrons,

will follow exactly 10 minutes later to hit Charlon at low level,

below 500 feet.

Now, I realize that dropping from that level can be sticky.

But that is our assignment.

Now, Air Commodore Hufford has a word to say to you. Sir?

And it's a bad one.

Jerry knows you're coming.

One of our key Resistance men has been picked up by the Gestapo.

We must assume that he's talked.

The Germans will no doubt increase their defenses,

and with every passing day, they'll get hotter.

That makes it imperative you get in there as soon as possible

and make the destruction of Charlon as total as you can.

That's all.

I know you're the men that'|| do it.

Good luck to you all.

Attention!

Ground's as hard as a billiard table.

You have reservations about our mission, Sergeant?

No, sir.

I don't think we stand a loving chance.

Air raid!

Look out, Quint!

It's a roll of film!

My God!

Those are RAF prisoners.

That's Webb, Alan Webb. He was my wingman.

There's Crawford and Greenwood.

They're all RAF aircrews.

That's Scotty!

What the hell are they playing at?

That's perfectly obvious.

Switch that damn thing off. I've seen quite enough!

There you see the crude subtlety of the Nazi mind, gentlemen,

well-illustrated.

But what can they hope to gain?

Two things.

First, lowered morale amongst our aircrews.

Second, a propaganda opportunity.

The Royal Air Force bombing their own men.

Headline, "The fratricidal RAF."

It's monstrous!

But, Penrose, there is one great gift in all this.

This infantile stratagem confirms our own supposition about Charlon.

We know now, Charlon is vital to the Nazi machine.

Charlon must be destroyed.

We'd be murdering our own men!

Not a word of what we've seen must go outside this room.

Do you understand?

Under no circumstances to anybody.

What a hell of a mess.

Quint.

We've got to tell Beth that Scotty's alive.

Do you think that would be a kindness?

Quint, he's alive. You've got to tell her.

I know he's alive!

What do you want me to tell her?

That he's in Charlon? My next mission is to bomb Charlon!

Which one of us is gonna tell her that Scotty died twice?

They'll cancel it. They won't go through with the strike now.

You're a romantic, Douglas.

Command isn't.

One hell of a rotten mess.

Now you're repeating yourself.

Poor Beth.

Quint!

Quint!

Quint.

What's the matter?

It's so peaceful here.

But you've brought the war with you.

It's this next flight, isn't it?

I know the signs.

Come on! Come on! Let's run.

What does it mean?

It means, "old wine and young women make a man happy."

Do you think he got out in time?

Maybe.

Quint?

Maybe in France,

there's a couple strolling,

and they see Scotty's plane.

Command is fully aware of the position the enemy has placed us in, Munroe.

Hufford was right.

The mission itself is costly enough in men and machines.

And there's the prisoners, the murder.

Yes, that is the word.

The murder of our own men, and the propaganda to be made out of that.

Nevertheless, the orders remain. Destroy Charlon.

Regardless of the cost?

Regardless of the cost.

Now, that is a measure of how important this thing is.

Our group has already been notified.

They hit the target 10 minutes after your highball attack on the tunnel.

Take off at 0600 tomorrow, weather permitting.

It's off.

The whole bloody continent's socked in.

It's off.

You mean postponed? For how long?

I don't know.

It's thick and soupy as far ahead as we can forecast.

It's off.

First time I'm almost glad of this blasted thing.

Scotch for the Squadron Leader.

You trying to drink the bar dry?

Funny you should say that, Quint, because that is exactly what I intend to do.

First time in my life I'm glad I'm not flying anymore.

That's right, Quint. Look around.

Take a good look at those faces.

Think of some of the other faces that'd be in this room.

Faces you and I saw just recently.

Faces of friends of ours, close friends.

Take it easy, Doug.

You know what's the matter with them? Pre-op nerves. Weather wait.

If they knew what we know...

If you don't mind, I'll take you...

What would happen, Quint, if they knew about the POWs in Charlon?

Shut up.

- There'd be a bloody riot. - There wouldn't. That's enough.

It's not enough! "Shut up. Be quiet. Be a good boy."

That's not enough. That's what's wrong with this war, Quint.

Those who can see not telling these poor, blind fools

where they're falling. You daren't tell them, do you?

- Enough. - Get off me!

Listen, listen.

Do you know what the Nazis have moved into Charlon?

Shut up. You don't know what you're saying.

POWs, that's what. Airmen, Mosquito pilots.

They're making you into murderers.

- Is this true, Quint? - Of course, it's true. Look at his face.

Gentlemen!

Escort this officer to his quarters.

There'll be a briefing in one hour for all duty officers.

Well, that is the situation. You know it all now.

You would have been told all just before you went.

And the directive remains. Charlon must be destroyed.

But sir, suppose...

Templeton, you will do your job, and I will do mine.

Now, just look at this matter.

If the work at Charlon continues, hundreds of thousands of people might die.

The whole of southern England devastated, our bridgehead in Europe destroyed.

The invasion pushed back months.

Couldn't the paratroops go in, sir, instead of bombers?

They'd be slaughtered before they touched down.

- What about the French underground? - The Germans are on the alert.

No, it must be a strike from the air.

There may be a way, sir.

While we're attacking the tunnel, we detach one aircraft to breach the wall.

The French underground move through the breach,

take on the Germans actually in the castle, and help our chaps out.

- Just ahead of our bombing attack? - Yes.

And then what?

Then it's every man for himself.

Scuttling out of the trap, running in all directions?

At least this way they won't die under our own bombs.

Yes, all right. I can see some sense in it.

Then you get Headquarters to approve the plan.

They'll have to secure the cooperation of the French underground.

The underground couldn't mount an effort on this scale.

And even if they could,

those prisoners who aren't killed when you blast open the prison wall,

would be scattered throughout the castle.

Locked up in dozens of cubbyholes and cellars.

You'd need a force that could subdue the whole German garrison

and stand off reinforcements from outside.

No, Squadron Leader, I applaud your motives,

but your scheme is impracticable.

Giving men a chance for their lives is impracticable?

You have a particular emotional involvement with these prisoners.

Have you thought of the men on the ground

you're asking to risk their lives?

Nothing must be attempted that would jeopardize the main purpose of the strike.

Supposing just before we blow the wall,

the prisoners could be gathered together in one safe place.

Could not the underground then take them over

and get them out on the escape route?

Most of those that survive, I would say.

Then schedule the attack for Sunday morning.

Sunday morning?

Sunday morning. Of course. Of course.

- Good morning. - Good morning, Padre.

Good day, my sons.

Good morning, Father.

Lieutenant Schack, bonjour.

Bonjour, Father Bellague.

The confessional is all ready for you.

Thank you.

Please remove your guards.

I cannot ask these men

to make their confessions to God with a gun at their backs.

Sorry, Father.

The Commandant's orders.

I think he suspects you will give out more than absolution in the confessional.

Perhaps he'd prefer me to hear my confessions in the open

where his entire garrison could watch.

As you please, Father.

Here.

Father, give me your blessing, for I have sinned...

Keep your lips moving, son, and listen carefully.

I will not repeat what I have to say.

Tell all your men that they are to be at mass

in chapel on Sunday morning.

Tell them that the order is from Air Command.

Now, my son.

For I have sinned

through my fault, through my fault, through my most grievous fault.

Go in peace and pray for me.

Keep your lips moving, son, and listen carefully.

When all the men are in chapel tomorrow morning

and the attack begins, they are trying to get you out.

Thank God.

Gentlemen, this mission must be executed with exacting precision,

both in timing and accuracy.

This tunnel must be closed.

Munroe, Clark and Bannister will fly the first phase.

Each of their Mosquitoes will carry two highball bombs,

one of which is capable of destroying the entire underground facility.

Munroe, as soon as one of you puts a bomb into the mouth of the tunnel,

you may proceed to breach the wall.

The prisoners will be waiting in the chapel.

Now, once the wall is destroyed,

members of the French underground will start diversionary skirmishes

so that our men will have a chance to head for the woods to the west.

Minutes later, waves of Mosquitoes will level Charlon.

Any questions?

Take off at 0625 hours tomorrow.

Dismissed.

Looks as though it's gonna be pretty sloppy over Charlon.

Damned rain could ruin what little chances we did have.

Rain or no rain, we go tomorrow.

Did those silly blighters at Intelligence

tell us how we're gonna get a decent bounce off this muck?

Yeah, just before you shoot, you use my guaranteed equalizer.

What's that?

Just before you shoot, you spit on your firing thumb.

What's so hilarious, chum?

You know, I've been a bit worried about him recently.

I thought he was beginning to get a bit serious about his job.

Is that so bad?

When a man like Quint Munroe starts to get serious,

he gets cautious.

That's when his luck deserts him.

- And us? - And us.

They won't let me see Douglas.

I thought you knew that already.

I thought if I came here to the base, I...

I had to see you, Quint.

I can't stay long.

Can't you at least tell me why he's confined to his quarters,

- why I can't speak to him? - Insubordination.

That's not true. To whom?

The Wing Commander.

I shouldn't have come here.

When will I see you again?

Tomorrow.

With luck?

Come back, Quint.

I couldn't bear it if you didn't.

Stand easy, please.

Don't worry.

I'm going to spare you my usual tedious pep talk.

You've been briefed. You know the importance of your mission.

Just remember that our bomber wave will start their drop at precisely 1000 hours,

regardless of whether or not all our prisoners are out of Charlon.

So any delay in dealing with the targets assigned to you could be extremely costly.

That's all I wanted to say,

except to wish each of you good luck.

Attention.

Good morning, gentlemen.

Stand easy.

I'm told the weather over Charlon will be ideal for our purposes today.

Everyone feeling well?

Yes, thank you, sir.

Perhaps you'd better break this news, sir.

As you wish, Wing Commander.

It's from Air Marshal, gentlemen. A slight change in your orders.

You are not to attack the prison wall

until you have successfully sealed that tunnel.

What if it takes all six highballs to do the job, sir?

Then, regrettably, the escape plan is aborted.

The underground has orders to withdraw.

Leave our chaps to be blown to hell?

The tunnel has first priority. The escape plan is a bonus operation.

This damn mission made sense with a highball for the prison,

but this is obscene.

That's enough!

There will be no deviation from the Air Marshal's orders.

Is that clear, Squadron Leader Munroe?

Sir.

I'm sure you'll have several highballs to spare for that wall, Munroe.

I feel confident of that.

I'm glad you do, sir.

Carry on, Wing Commander.

All right.

- You know the trouble with this war, sir? - What?

The world's back to front.

- Back to front? - Yeah.

We go out when the sun's rising in our face.

We come home, and it's setting in our face.

Yeah, the world's back to front.

I bet the Luftwaffe doesn't think so, Wiley.

Yeah! They had years preparing for this rotten war.

We just got it handed to us.

Suddenly, Father, everyone is very religious.

You!

He can't even remember his name.

How does he know he's a Catholic?

The spirit moves in mysterious ways, Lieutenant Schack.

Go.

The Commandant is not so difficult to understand.

The Commandant dislikes mysterious occurrences.

Take care, Priest.

- Squadron Leader? - Yes, Father?

You do not know your name?

No, Father.

Please, take your seat, my son.

If anything ever puts me off religion, this will.

- What's happening? - Escape.

- Who says so? - I say so. The old priest is up to something.

That's right. He's gonna sneak us out under his robes.

All of us?

We're going home.

- How's Daisy? - Don't ask!

Now what?

She's lost the ration books again. We're starving to death.

Still, she makes up for it in other ways.

Five minutes to target.

New course, 160.

Now.

Out! Out! Out! Out! Everyone back to his cell.

Squadron Leader Neale, you are a senior officer here.

Order your men to march outside at once.

Please!

Stay where you are, men. That's an order.

So we have a mutiny on our hands.

Priest!

Tell them to obey!

You are a foolish man, Father Bellague.

You insist on being a martyr?

You bastards!

Kill him!

Barricade the door.

He's dead.

Take him to the sacristy.

Men! Men! Men!

Men, listen to me. Just gather round and listen.

What for?

We've been ordered to stay here.

We can't stay holed up in here, sir, not without weapons.

We'll stick it out as long as we can.

Now just settle down. Back to your seats.

Hound Master to Pack.

One minute to target.

I'll drop first to 60 feet, 1,000 yards out.

You watch how I bounce and compensate accordingly, over.

Roger.

Good luck, Quint.

Air scoop out.

Air scoop out, sir.

- RPM? - 650, 700.

Stand by.

Steady.

Steady.

Bomb away!

Dog One to Hound Master. I'm going to drop from 75 feet at 1,100.

Bomb away!

Dog Two from Hound Master.

- Same height at 1,200. Over. - Roger.

Bandits at ten o'clock! Bandits!

We're down to two shots, Bannister, and we've still got two targets.

Then I'd better make this one good.

Dog One! Dog One!

Bannister, are you all right?

Bannister, Bannister, are you all right?

Better get started for that prison wall, chum.

Everything's under control here.

Make it good, Wiley. It's their only chance.

- They're going to blast us out. - This is suicide.

We've got to get out, sir.

No, hang on until the last moment.

Stand by.

Hold it. Hold it!

Bomb away!

Come on!

Come on!

Wiley!

Scotty?

The tank, get it! Get it!

Scotty, it's me. It's me, Quint!

Who?

Scotty!

What did you call me?

Someone's gonna have to get that tank.

You're Squadron Leader David Scott.

You're David Scott. You've got to remember!

Beth!

Got us pinned down, that tank.

Got to get across that road.

Here, give me that.

Scotty.

That tank!

You've got to listen to me.

You've got to listen to me.

Scotty, what about Beth?

Scotty!

Beth.

Scotty!

Parade, attention!

- Good morning, sir. - Good morning.

I understand this lot were picked up from the beach last night by a submarine.

They've just flown in from Southampton.

The mission was a success. Just the casualties are so damnably bad.

Bob! Bob!

Peter! Peter, darling!

Quint!

Thank God.

Scotty?

He was killed.

Does Beth know he was alive?

No.

Munroe, well clone.

What you and the others did, my boy, was historic.

Yes, and costly. We lost Bannister and Clark.

But Germany will always remember Charlon.

Never forget that.

There'|| be another squadron, Quint. There'|| never be another Charlon.

If you'll excuse me, sir.