All language subtitles for Our Girl - 01x00 - Movie Pilot.TLA.English.C.orig.Addic7ed.com

Tonight, our special coverage...

for a closer look of the daily
lives of people in the region.

We'll be looking at the
war against extremism

waged by British and American troops

over the border of Afghanistan...

A new study says more and more
white British people are...

... lives lost and the
fact that Barack Obama

is about to pour thousands
more troops into this region.

It is by no means certain we will prevail.

What we do know, from bitter experience,

is that, whatever
happens here, good or bad,

the rest of the world
will feel the consequences.

Happy birthday, Molly!

My little girls all grown up!

Still very immature though, Mum.

- Don't forget that!
- Fluffy scrambled eggs, coming up!

- What times he getting here?
- Don't know.

Oh, God, look at the state of you, Dave!

Uh, Dad, I ain't being
funny, but you stink.

You been fighting again?

- He had a ruck with the door, didn't ya?
- She slammed it on my face, the door.

Slammed. Bosh. Unkind. Thought
she'd done me schnoz in.

Yeah, you crack on enjoying
yourself, you piss-taker.

I think those frozen fish
fingers saved the day.

There are a lot of sacrifices
went into that present!

Make up for me getting a
bit involved last night, eh?

Dad, that's proper.

Oh, thanks, Dad!

Did you ever doubt me?

Here, don't let that pikey
boyfriend of yours see it.

- He'll have it.
- Don't spoil the moment, Dad.

♪ And then I go and spoil it all ♪

♪ By saying something stupid... ♪

He needs to hurry up.

His eggs are ready.

Oh, get off, Dave. You do stink.

Just be careful, yeah?

You won't say nothing to
Dad, right? Yeah? Right?

All right.

- Oh!
- Yeah!

Oi! You look after her,
Dean, d'you hear me?

What d'you think? Of course!

If you don't, I will spoon your eyes out.

You was up to a lot
worst than me at my age.

See you later.

Thought you was coming
round mine this morning.

I am coming. I'm coming in a moment.

- Bit late, then, yeah?
- I was just coming round with your present.

You wasn't. You was standing there
talking to that pikey knobber.

I didn't think you were
going to work today.

I think you might be staying in bed.

I was trying to be kind.

Molly.

I've got you a present.

What do you think?

It ain't an engagement ring, is it?

Maybe.

You like?

Walk me to work, then.

- Who give you this?
- Nice, innit?

- Who?
- It's Tiffany, mate!

- It's not Tiffany.
- What do you know about anything?

It's snide.

Oh, right, so you're the
expert on everything now, yeah?

My brother sells snide
jewellery on the internet.

Well, your brothers a tosser, then!

Tonight, I take you for a curry.

You English love your curry.

No, I'm busy, mate.

You love me.

Not as much as you love yourself.

Stop it.

See you later.

If it's ten pound to get in,
and drinks cost a fortune,

we just make sure we get trollied
before we get in there, of course!

I'll do some cocktails in my flask.

What?

We're not taking your flask
into a club again, Mum!

They thought you'd come
with a cup of tea last time!

They were very nice
cocktails though, Mrs. Vale.

Look, tin of Red Bull,
yeah, pour half away,

fill the rest up with vodka.

That is me sorted.

These nails are digging in tonight! Grrrr!

- Well, that's 40 for you and your mum, Shaz.
- Thank you.

Ta. What you wearing tonight?

I'm going to wear, you know the,
erm, the black... the black dress

- with the er...
- Small varnish, please, love.

- Not today, Dad.
- Yes, today!

Change for me 20.

He's such a tool.

- I dunno what's the matter with you half the time!
- You!

Pass us the eyeliner, Mar.

You're what's the matter
with me all of the time, mate!

No wonder I have to get
out, with you going on!

And you're not having our food
money to pour down your fat gullet,

and that's that.

I've just give her my housekeeping money.

You give your rent money
to me, not her. Understood?

See you later, Mum!

- Have a great time tonight, Molls.
- I'll have a go!

- You be careful!
- Don't worry about that,

I got Proud Mary to protect me, eh, Mar?

Yeah. Unless I get too
rotten on it and collapse.

Then, it's just every man for herself.

- Here you go.
- What's that for?!

Well, I don't want any
housekeeping from you this week.

I want you to enjoy your birthday.

- Not a breath to your dad.
- Oh, yeah, as if!

And don't let him tap you up
for any either, Proud Mary.

Why is he so crap, Mum?

Why ain't you wearing your bracelet?

Erm... I didn't want to lose it.

It's bound to get messy, isn't it?

You do like it, though, yeah?

Yeah, love it! Did you get it?

Yeah, well, Dad went and got
it, but I gave him the money.

Been saving family allowance.

- You be careful, yeah?
- All right.

Just give it back to him.
Stop eating that! Give it back!

Well, I'll have it, then!

There's always more of them on a Friday.

All they gotta do is
go Friday night prayer,

they get their sins of
the week just wiped off.

I can see why it's so popular now.

He's come to meet you! Sweet.

- Hi.
- What's going on?

I thought you were going to pub!

Who's that mess?

Why you saying this? Molly,
it's not what you think.

No, it never is, is it?

You, you dirty slag, get out of the car!

Come on! Get out of the car, you
need to be taught some manners,

you dirty cow, get out!

Hey! What's the matter with you?

Dirty slag!

You go like a mental!

Be warned, I am mental!

Right, that is it, he has
shit on me for the last time.

- Cheers!
- Yes!

Hey! That was us once.

Right, go on, then, down it.

Down it. Yeah, down it! Down it. Down it.

- Hey, they still want you off the sick?
- Yeah.

Even with your back?

I never voted for this mob.

Who'd you vote for, then?

Down it! Down it!

Mum! It's so embarrassing!

She was my cousin. Just my cousin.

- Is that the best you can do?
- What?

After all them hours
and she's your cousin?!

- She is my cousin.
- Yeah, right!

You don't want to be my
girlfriend, I have my ring back.

Here are. Hope it chokes you.

I want you to be my girlfriend.

- So what was the dippy-blurt in the van all about, then?!
- I told you!

She didn't look Albanian!

What do we look like?

You got funny-shaped
heads and spazzer jeans.

She arrive today. Doesn't
speak a word of English.

I am only person she knows.

I trying to help her get
away from very bad people.

She my cousin.

You... my girlfriend.

You Albanian freak!

My head isn't a funny shape.

You're joking, mate?! You got
head like a Sainsbury's till!

Till-Head, that's what we call you.

Belinda!

Belinda!

Belinda!

Belinda!

Look at our country, Belinda!

Gone to shit, mate.

Our beautiful East London.

Been ethnically cleansed.

So us whites, we've been driven out,

but no-one cares about us! No, no.

Were not worth caring about.

Were the wrong colour, that's our trouble!

What's the matter with you?

What? Don't I get a civil hello?

- Don't wake the kids up.
- I've had enough of you!

- Well, what did you come home for, then?!
- Cos it's my house! Mine!

Actually, it's The London Borough
of Newham's, but there you go!

Thanks. Cheers.

Is that you, Mar?

Yeah?

Oh, oh, hi, Moll. You all right?

- Having a good night?
- Yeah, wicked. Pass us a fag, Mar.

Oh, ta!

I'll see you at the table.

There you are!

Just been looking for you.

I'm just going for that fag.

Hey! Hey, darling! What's going on, babe?

Looking good. Do you want
to come to a party with us?

- Yeah, I'll come to a party.
- Right, jump in the back.

Oi!

Oi! Don't you want to fuck me?

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Shh. Go to sleep. It's Saturday.

Where you going?

Brush my teeth. I honk.

- Love you.
- I'm glad someone does.

Love you.

Oh...

Smells nice.

I hope you're changing them sheets.

What d'you get up to? Anything nice?

Club.

Might take you clubbing.

- What?
- Nothing.

See Artan last night?

Perry, right, proper chippy.

He can't get any work cos the
Poles'll build you a frigging house

for the price of a cup of tea.

- Ain't worth his while getting out of bed.
- Artan's Albanian.

You know what I'm taking about.

I'm talking about the
destruction of England.

What did he get you?

That ain't an engagement ring?

Don't worry, you two have
put me off marriage for life.

Yeah, don't let your gob run
away or I'll shut it for you!

- Yeah, try it and I'll stab you.
- Molly!

You'll do what you're told
or you live on the streets!

You think you're someone special,
don't you? Well, you're not.

You're just a run-of-the-mill slag.

- I done this?
- Yeah, it's shit, isn't it?

- I could turn it into daisies or something?
- I don't care,

just get rid of the Artan.

Definitely be better with
daisies than just blocking it out.

Whatever.

Does it hurt?

- What you looking at?
- Dunno, lost me zoo book.

Ha, bloody ha.

- You local?
- Yeah.

Last white woman on Kath-rhine Road.

Fancy an job in the Army, then?

Great job that... £100 a week to
have my head used as target practice.

Got any leaflets then?

I'm only tentative. I'm just
checking out the options.

Why don't you take a seat
and we can have a chat?

Don't be nervous.

We don't just throw you
onto the back of a truck.

We only want soldiers
who want to be soldiers.

I didn't think you'd want
the likes of me joining up.

Take these home and have
a butchers at your leisure.

- How old are you?
- 18.

What d'you have to do, then?

Well, first, you have to do the BARB test.

Just a short test you
can do on the computer.

Someone of your intelligence,
it'll be a piece of cake.

- Me?! I'm stupid.
- I don't think so.

Well, you don't know me.
I'm famous for being stupid.

Well, we can do the BARB
test now, if you like.

Find out just how stupid you are.

What and I just do it on the computer?

Exactly. Touch screen.

Then we throw you on a lorry and
you'll be in Helmand by tea time.

I'll probably fail the test anyway.

So...

Do you want to do it now?

All right.

Let's do it! Oh!

What you looking at?

Dunno, lost me zoo book.

- Get a job.
- I'm sick!

Yeah, in the head.

Mum, I'm going down Sara
Banajee's for a couple of days.

- Who?
- She got into college in Brighton, remember?

They said at primary school that
you were University material.

- Did they?
- Mind you, you were the only one

who could speak bleeding English.

- Is Artan going with you?
- No, he ain't.

- Can you try and be nice to Dad?
- Why?

Because he wasn't always a dickhead.

Right, left! Right, left!

Turn!

Ladies and gentlemen, if I can have
your attention for a moment, please.

OK.

All right, these next two
days are very important

if you want to progress
in the British Army.

So take every task seriously
and try your best, all right?

For some of you, this is going
to be the end of the line.

For others, you'll be invited
to go on to the next stage,

which is Phase One, Basic Training.

OK.

You know you're all here to have
your medicals, but before you go in

and see the doctor for your examination,

- you'll have a few different tests first.
- Oh!

Problem with that, 17?

No, it's just a bit boring so far.

So that was your sit-ups.

The Technical Selection Test
is basically a mathematics test.

You've then got your undergrasp heave test.

55 questions.

Powerbag lift and rope climb.

Should take you about half an hour.

Every applicant must take
these upper-body strength tests.

On you go.

Oi!

Did you fucking "oi" me?!

My hand slipped, that's all.

God, I'm knackered.

You?

My hands still hurt from them jerry cans!

You were good.

I have to bring our
shopping home from Iceland.

- Are you from London?
- Could you tell?

- How about you?
- Do you know Preston?

- Lancashire.
- So Preston's your town, yeah?

Well, no, Leyland. But I didn't
think you'd have heard of that,

- but it's just outside of Preston.
- Which I also hadn't heard of.

- Yeah, but you know where Lancashire is though, right?
- Yeah, obviously.

Morning, ladies and gentlemen.

Welcome to this part of your
selection known as The Icebreaker.

Each and every one of you will
be coming up here, individually,

and telling us a little
bit about yourselves.

Who's going to be brave enough to go first?

Uh?

OK. I hear you've got a
lot to say for yourself.

Who told you that?

Get up here.

You never stop fucking chuntering on.

Now, come on, now's your chance,
cos we all want to listen.

Good.

Up here.

Where you going?

I don't want to stand up and talk.

Fair play. The army's not for
everyone. Leave now, though,

- and you'll regret it for the rest of your life.
- You reckon?

I know.

See, I had you down as a trier, eh.

I thought you'd be brave enough to
come up here and talk for a while.

You don't think I'm going
to make the grade anyhow!

I can see you all looking down
your big, shiny schnozes at me.

Don't be so fucking wet.

Turn around and talk to the class

or have everyone know
what a lettuce you are.

A lettuce? Loser.

Couldn't do it when it matters,
eh? You want that on your headstone?

Let's see if you've got what it takes.

My names Molly Dawes.

I come from near Stratford, not
the one that Shakespeare comes from,

the other one in the
London Borough of Newham,

which sometimes I think is the
nicest place on the planet to live

and other times I think
is a right shit-hole.

Don't look at me again. Get on.

Sometimes, I walk down East
Ham High Street in the sun

and smell the spices, and
see every manner of people

and I well up.

I feel really proud of where I come from.

And, other times, when
it's all powder keggy

and like it's about to
blow, I just want to run.

Just want to run away and
live in a barn somewhere.

I live off the Portway with my
three sisters, my two brothers,

my pregnant mum

and my tosspot of a dad.

All crammed into this little Lego house

that's bursting at the
seams with noise and toys

and cheap Polish lager,

kids scooters, piles and piles of washing

that my mum keeps meaning to do,
but she's always too knackered

cos my dad's enough to
knacker any bugger out.

He's at home all day on the sick,

cos when he was a Sky dish fitter,

some toerag had it away with his ladder

and he fell off this
roof and landed in a bush.

Done his back in.

He went to hospital.

He had to shit in a pan for weeks
cos he couldn't get out of bed.

Lost his job and...

... then, he got the
depression, my mum reckons.

Some days, he's as right as a ninepence,

and other days, I see him hobbling
around, moaning and groaning,

like a 90-year-old.

Then, a mate lends him a tenner
and it's a bleeding miracle,

he can shuffle down the pub
and get a pint down his Gregory,

which, of course, he
says is a muscle relaxant

and if it wasn't for his back, then
he wouldn't bother with the drinking.

But sometimes, I can see it
all mapped out in front of me.

My shitty little life
just waiting to happen.

Middle-aged me, picking up toys

and cans of lager,

as my tosspot boyfriend pisses
on any dreams I might have had.

The one-and-a-half-mile
run is an important test.

Pass and you'll remain on selection,

fail and you may as well go home.

Once you've completed your
run, go back to your quarters

and get ready for your interview.

You will then be told whether
you'll be recommended for enlistment.

Right, then, good luck, everybody.

On your marks, go!

You all right, Katy? Katy?

My ankle!

What are you doing?

She's fell over!

I can see that. Leave her and move on!

- Come on Katy, get up!
- I can't!

I said leave her!

What the fuck is this? Two
Little Boys?! Leave her.

That is an order!

How is it?

Oh, it's all right. Bit better.

I did a timed run before the
selection, so the Corporal reckons

they might be able to take
that into consideration.

Well, I'm screwed, then.

You should have just left me.

Anyway, I think I might have made a
bit of a ricket on the clothes front.

Here, have you got any other shoes?

- Only me trainers.
- What size are you?

Five and a half.

I got a pair of sixes. There you go.

And what about leggings?
Have you got any of them?

Cos your skirt might be a bit short.

I ain't got any leggings.

Here.

Take them.

Go in there and fight for your life.

I've got all the comments
of the various NCOs

and, in fact, everybody who's been involved

in this two-day selection process.

Yes, sir.

Ma'am.

We have to make sure any
potential recruit has a 90% chance

of making it through Phase One Training.

Yes, Ma'am.

You want to join the Royal
Army Medical Corps, I see?

You didn't make you cap badge time
for your one-and-a-half-mile run.

I need more training.

I understand you stopped to assist
another recruit who had fallen.

You have divided opinion, Miss Dawes.

You tell me why I should recommend you.

Tell me why the British Army should
have you swelling their ranks,

and I don't want to hear, I
want this more than anything.

Truth?

I reckon if I really,
really tried my hardest,

then, I wouldn't be the worst.

And do we want someone who
aspires to be not the worst?

We need soldiers who aspire to be the best.

Just give me a chance.

And why should I do that?

Because I've never had one.

And if I'm given a chance, I wont
let anyone down, I swear, Miss.

A couple of the comments
are extremely heartening.

You clearly have attributes
that you're either unaware of

or too modest to promote.

- Thanks.
- I'm not sure it's a compliment, Miss Dawes.

So...

... do I really think you're worth it?

To be honest, I just wanted to talk
to you, like, outside the house.

Away from the noise.

Well, if it helps you out, we know.

- Yeah, and we don't mind.
- Really?

Well, you're our daughter,
Moll. We love you.

You're not a little girl any
more, so fair play to you.

And it's your decision.

I thought you wouldn't approve.

Well, I think he's a bit of
a tool, but it's your choice.

Well, to be fair, we hardly know him, Dave.

Who are you talking about?

Artan.

What's it gotta do with him?

Well, he is the father, isn't he?

Oh, it's not that mongy nut
bar from Islington, is it?

I ain't pregnant! Did
you think I was pregnant?

No!

Well... what was you going to say, then?

When?!

Bloody taking us for
this nosh and everything.

I'm joining the Army.

You're fucking joking?

- I'm Muslim, Molly!
- What's that got to do with anything?

What do you think!? That's
what your Army's for...

to kill Muslims.

Oh, that's pathetic.

What about us, uh!? How
long is this training?

It's 14 weeks, Artan.

14 weeks! And it might be
nice if one bloody person

just said "Oh, well done, Mol, good for you."

Instead of you moaning
and my mum and dad worrying

about who's going to pick
the kids up from school!

You only care about yourself!

You're a selfish, stupid,
fucking little girl!

You join the Army...

And what? What?!

What you going to do? You going to kill me?

I want to marry you!

Even though I kill Muslims?

- I love you.
- You sure about that?

Cos your old chap seemed quite keen
on Proud Mary last time I looked!

"I, Molly Dawes, swear by Almighty God

that I will be faithful
and bear true allegiance

to Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth
II, her heirs and successors

and that I will, as in duty bound,

honestly and faithfully defend Her
Majesty, her heirs and successors,

in person, crown and
dignity against all enemies

and will observe and obey
all orders of Her Majesty,

her heirs and successors

and of the generals and
officers set over me."

Right. That's one Queen's
shilling we owe you.

Half a day's pay now.
That's inflation for you.

Sir.

Don't think being a combat medical
technician is some easy option, Miss Dawes.

Don't think you're going to be
floating around the corridors

of some well-equipped field
hospital like Florence Nightingale.

You'll be in some godforsaken shit-hole

trying to tie a tourniquet
on some poor bastard

who's just had both of his legs blown off.

Sir, yes, sir.

Yes. A simple "yes, sir" will suffice.

Were not American...

yet.

Ah, good, might get my leggings back!

Feels a bit more serious
this time, doesn't it?

Two Section, line! Now!

My name is Corporal Geddings.

For the next 14 weeks,
I am your mother, father,

boyfriend, grandma and your
bloody God all rolled into one.

You are mine.

More importantly,

I am yours.

I will do my best to make sure each
and every one of you make the grade.

I say something funny, Dawes?

No, sir.

Don't call me sir.

I work for a bloody living.

So what's funny?

Nothing, Corporal.

Then, why the fucking grin?!

It just felt I was in a
film for a minute, sorry.

Some of you look a mess.

Puffy and pudgy,

big bags under your eyes.

This isn't the fucking Priory.
Are you listening, Dawes?

Yeah. This isn't the fucking Priory.

14 bloody weeks.

That's all I've got to make
soldiers out of you lot.

Some recruits don't have it
in them to complete the course.

It isn't easy being a
soldier in the British Army.

We've got to separate
the wheat from the chaff.

You understand what I mean
by wheat and chaff, King?

Not sure, Corporal.

We've got to separate
the shit from the clay.

I only want clay on my hands.

The PlayStation generation!

Can you hear that noise?

That's the fucking Taliban,
shitting themselves!

These next few weeks are going to need

your absolute concentration and dedication.

Those determined enough will pass out.

Those that dig deeper than
they ever thought they could

and find new strengths will pass through.

Those that do not give up in the
face of adversity will do all right.

I promise you that.

You want it enough, you will get it.

Those that aren't 100% focused...

... will fail.

I promise you that as well.

Right, left!

Right left, right, left.

Will you lot kindly remember
that you are now soldiers!

Oi, you!

Dyed blond hair!

Do not drag your kit along the ground!

Pick it up now!

Move it, move it! Move it!

Oh, Jesus wept!

What's the matter with
you? Is it too heavy?

Shall I do it for you?
Pick it up and move it! Now!

Your kit is your responsibility.
I want it immaculate at all times.

I want it ironed and your boots bulled.

You brought plenty of polish, Dawes?

Yes, Corporal.

And your locker has
gotta be like your minds.

What do I mean by that, Dawes?

Dirty?

Everything in its rightful place.

Everything 100%.

- Ordered. Organised.
- Why?

If your lockers not spot on,
I'll know nothings spot on.

Fail at keeping your locker tidy,

you'll fail at everything
here at Pirbright.

And we don't want that, do we, Dawes?

I'm not here to wipe your arse,
I'm here to point at your arse

and tell you to get the bloody thing wiped.

And by week two, I don't
even want to be pointing,

I shall expect you to know and
to have done it yourself already.

I shall walk in here at 0600

and I shall inspect
your locker and your kit

and if there's so much
as a crease out of place,

you'll have to do it again.

And again and again.

Right, I'll be back in five minutes

and I want to see you all
in your uniforms, please.

And maybe someone should
step up to the plate

and have a word with your class clown.

Jump! Go on!

Jump! Hurry up! Come on!

Don't wait! Don't hesitate! Straight over!

What are you hesitating for? Straight over!

Run! Don't wait, just push it over!

Come on! Hurry up and get over that wall!

What are you doing, Dawes?!

Don't fucking start!

You want special treatment, do you?!

Maybe we could write to the Al-Qaeda
and say you don't take bullets.

- Shall we do that?
- I have yet to see a gallant bullet,

that carefully avoids members of
the female sex and targets only men.

Come on! Dig in! Give it your best!

- Are you giving it your best, Dawes?
- I don't think you are.

- Come on, push yourself.
- Find the courage to do this!

- Only you can find the balls!
- Two weeks here, you've got worse!

- Don't be a waste of space! Run!
- Come on, Dawes, find it!

Rise up!

Don't get too comfy yet, ladies.

Locker inspection.

Your lockers should be
immaculate at all times

and ready for random inspection.

Cheers.

Troop! Troop!

- One!
- Good, let's keep those arms pinned in.

Move to the left in file. Left!

- Turn!
- One! Two, three, one!

Bend your bottom closer to that bench!

- Stand down!
- One!

Two! Three! One!

March!

March! March!

Hurry up!

Run, run, run!

One!

- One!
- Two, three, one!

All of you that pass out will be deployed

at some point in the future.

Which means, unfortunately,
some of you won't be coming home.

Take a look around at
the faces in this room.

Each and every one of you
will be missed terribly

by your people back home.

How anyone will miss some
of you pains in the back side

is hard to believe, I know.

But missed you will most certainly be

and that's why you are each tasked

to write a letter from the
grave for your families.

These are private and personal.

Hopefully, never to be opened.

Your Corporals can offer
assistance, if needed.

That's your call.

You have to play with your
left hand, that is the rule!

Hang on, I don't remember
anything about that rule.

- Well, if you want help with your ironing...
- No, no!

We don't need any help with our ironing.

Well, that shirt tells me you do.

This shirt is casual,
it's supposed to look...

What, like shit?

OK, OK. Let's have some
order and solemnity here.

Chris, left-handed, yeah?

Come on!

Referees decision is final.

Molly, if you lose, you're
ironing his kit tonight.

And Chris, if you lose,
you're bulling her boots. Yeah?

Yeah, and I want to see
my face in them, sunshine!

Go on, Molly!

Hang on a minute, you're
bloody left-handed!

No way!

She's here, she's here.

What?

Um... it's only one point for a recruit!

One point for a recruit,
five points for a corporal,

ten points for a sergeant,
and 50 for a major!

Well, I've just been down the
gym, putting a bit of extra...

Oh, yeah!

Well, we was down the stores watching
you collect one point from Chris Ingram's!

Yeah!

All this exercise is
making me double want it!

But what about your fella back home?

What fella? Besides, what goes on tour...

Goes on Facebook!

- Run! Run!
- Come on, girls, jump! Jump!

Come on! Come on, jump!

Lauren!

Lauren!

Lauren!

Lauren, Lauren.

Lauren, it's Molly!

Right, pull her legs up.
She's caught in the webbing.

Get the webbing off, get the webbing off.

Right, I've got her weight. Unclip her.

Lauren! She's not answering. Lauren!

- Lauren.
- Lauren.

Hold on.

Is she all right? Yeah, she's all right.

You're all right, Lauren.

Good work, Dawes.

You know, my old man, he said to me,

he said, You never forget
who you're on basic with.

- Royal Engineer.
- Is he still in?

Copped it four years ago.

Dead!

I hope so, we buried him!

It was a... IED.

Died instantly.

Oh, sorry.

I know what he means about
never forgetting anyone.

Your basic training, they
just try and break you down.

They want you to forget
about everything outside

and give yourself up to the Army.

It's like a cult.

They break you down to nothing,

make you a no-one.

And they build you back
up how they want you built.

You know, like Frankenstein's monster.

That way, they send you off to war

and you'll do whatever they tell you to do.

Kill and not blink an eyelid.

Not everyone's going to get through here.

Them that can't be broken down
and rebuilt or are just too weak,

booted into touch.

If any of my section were under
threat, I'd take a bullet for them.

Well, they got you already, then.

Come on, girls, push it! Push it!

Faster.

Keep pushing it, girls! Faster!

Come on, girls!

Hurry up! Hurry up! Still got to get there!

Keep going, girls! Come on, Katy!

Come on! You're too far back, girl!

Come on, keep going!

Come on, Katy!

In front, harder!

Come on, you can do it!

Keep pushing it, girls! Keep pushing it!

If some of you show that little
effort when you're deployed,

the chances of you coming back in
one piece are pretty fucking remote!

Stand by your beds!

06:00, kit and locker
inspection, tomorrow morning,

breakfast. Then weapons safety test.

If anybody fails,

it's another eight-mile
endurance run, in full kit!

Right. As you'll have noticed,
our numbers are down by two.

UFAS. Tell them what that means,

if you'll be so good, Corporal Geddings.

Unfit For Army Service.

Those people were
showing the wrong attitude

and were not fit for purpose.

Chris Ingram's, Dawes.

Gone. And forgotten.

Do you want to join him or stay with us?

Stay, Corporal.

And Craig Garners gone.

Troop!

Fall out!

The rest of you, get on the mini-bus.

And throughout this entire trip,

try to remember you are
representing Her Majesty's Army.

♪ Seems like everybody's got a price ♪

♪ I wonder how they sleep at night ♪

♪ When the sale comes first ♪
♪ And the truth comes second ♪

♪ Just stop for a minute and smile ♪

♪ Why is everybody so serious? ♪

♪ Acting so damn mysterious ♪

♪ You got your shades on your eyes ♪
♪ And your heels so high ♪

♪ That you can't even have ♪
♪ A good time ♪

♪ Everybody look to their left ♪
♪ To their left! ♪

♪ Everybody look to their right ♪

♪ Can you feel that? Yeah! ♪

♪ Well pay them with love tonight ♪

♪ It's not about the money ♪
♪ Money, money ♪

♪ We don't need your money ♪
♪ Money, money ♪

♪ We just want to make ♪
♪ The world dance ♪

♪ Forget about the price tag ♪

♪ Ain't about the... cha-ching cha-ching ♪

♪ Ain't about the... #

Wet the bed?

No, Corporal.

You're up early, then.

It's the new me!

Gagging for a brew, me. D'you fancy one?

Is it allowed?

I'll bend the rules this once.

You must be knackered.

Yeah, well, we thought we'd
just take it easy today.

Sleep in this morning, go to
the pictures this afternoon.

Are you enjoying it?

I ain't jacking it in if
that's what you mean, Corp.

I'm making the grade.

I bet you were a right
treasure at school, weren't ya?

Two of my teachers had
nervous breakdowns cos of me.

Take someone a lot bigger and
badder than you to break us.

Aren't you trying to break me?

No.

We want you to be... a part of us.

Not the one on the outside trying to...

Trying to be the class clown.

After my basic training, we
were deployed out in Iraq.

Our section commander
got preliminary orders

that we were to secure a
building across from the compound.

He was told possible enemy
direct fire and mine field.

He told the section and we all went fine.

Except one fella.

And he was the one who was
always joking... our class clown.

The one on the outside who thought
he was better than the system.

We ran across the area,

he dithered, cacking himself.

Only one who got injured.
Dithered on a mine.

Not a great place to dither.

Lost both his legs.

What we do,

we do to save your life, Molly.

You either leave or learn.

Why did you get rid of Chris Ingram's?

Why d'you think?

Rise up!

As you were.

One volunteer, please.

As you're only texting...

Come on.

If that's bloody Jade
saying she can't cope...

- Who is it?
- It's Molls.

Oh, they've been on an adventure trip.

Yeah, on our taxes, no doubt?

Well, you don't pay
taxes, so you're all right.

She's on to live ammunition now.

It's our daughter, she's in the Forces.

- Wow.
- Yeah.

Oh, God!

- Just this way.
- Thank you.

He was always a scatter-brain.

Left lots of bits here.

Nothing... valuable.
Just... we want them now.

Exposure of the figure twelve target.

Fire one five-round group at the target.

Rapid fire!

One, two, three. One, two, three, one...

Who fancies a little bit of mouthwash?

Sambuca! I've been saving
it for that special occasion!

- You decent?
- Yes, Corporal!

Rise up!

Good evening, ladies.

It's late.

Thought you might be getting ready
for tomorrow mornings inspection!

Just about up to standard, Dawes.

Why, thank you, Corporal.

Ah...

Mouthwash.

Do you mind if I borrow this?

You seem to forget that I went
through basic training too!

I know everything.

Including what some people
get up to behind the stores.

So is that your natural colour, then?

Brown.

Dark chestnut!

- Good, Corporal.
- Thank you, Sergeant.

One Section down to seven.
Three Section down to eight.

Still at your full
compliment here, Corporal.

Just.

Enjoy your leave.

Don't spend your entire time pissed.

Keep up the fitness.

I'll see you in a week.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Don't look too bloody smug just yet.

Long way to go before you pass out.

Right, let's get our civvies on!

You all right?

Come on, the mini bus is on the station.

- You know what they're like, they won't wait.
- I'm not going home, Molls.

What you chatting about, you nut bar?

I'm not going home, Molly.

I've cleared it with the Corporal.

They're going to give me light
duties around the barracks.

Why aren't you going home?

They don't really want me back

and, to be honest, that is fine with me.

Who don't? Your mum don't?

Well, her new boyfriend.

She said... well, she reckons
it might for be the best.

In case it causes arguments.

Which it would, so... this is me home.

Right. Get your glad rags on, lady...

London Town, here we come.

You don't want me coming back with you.

I just said I do.

Yeah, but you don't, so...

I wouldn't bullshit you.

Dawes! How you getting
on with your letter home?

- I'm about to go see them.
- Write it!

Left, right! Left, right!
Left, right! Left, right!

We're going to have to do so
much drill when we get back.

Have you ever been abroad before?

Oh, yeah, were quite
sophisticated in Lancashire!

I never have.

- What, like not even in Spain?
- Not even Wales!

The first time I step on a
plane, it'll be to Afghanistan.

Oh! My big girls come home to mummy!

Let's have a look at the little sproglet!

Oh, he looks like Dad, poor fella!

- He don't, he looks like me, don't he, Mum?
- Well, he's got a bit of everybody in him.

Look at you, Molls! Look at you!

- What?
- I dunno. You look all...

All... I dunno!

- Oh, Mum, this is my mate, Katy! She's coming to stay.
- All right, Katy?

We thought it was you!

- Welcome home!
- What d'you mean, you thought it was me?

We was on the bus and we thought we saw
you walking down the road with your friend.

Oh, my mate, Katy. Army. Top girl.

All right, Katy.

So, we on a girlie night
out tonight or what?

Yeah, sounds like a plan, Stan!

I'm all right, thanks, Mar.
I'm off them as it goes.

- Molly!
- Molly!

Hello!

Oh, here she is!

I can't believe your hair!

Dye it again, you look too different!

I been dying it since I was 11, I
thought it was about time I went natural!

Look at your hands, Molly.
They gone like cuttle fish!

Don't go near my budgie,
he'd fucking eat them!

And where's them beautiful nails!?

Not... regulation.

When did you start taking orders?

Are we going to get
ruined tonight or what?!

Get in there, get in there,
get in there, get in there.

Three, two, one!

I been at work. Shower. Then come here.

How did you know I was here?

Your dad said.

Artan!

There you go, fella.

What's going on there?

Your dad knew I wanted to see you.

- He hates you.
- Have you missed me?

You didn't ring.

It's tricky.

This is my friend, from training.

Hi.

Were getting married.

Let's talk.

Don't go back.

I don't really want to leave
Katy on her own for too long.

Don't go back to training.
You know what I mean.

I want to.

I don't want you to.

Oh, don't you?!

Molly, I know I haven't
always loved you well...

What, you mean shagging other people?

I always come back to you.

You are my love.

You are my heart.

Is that a fact?

I have to marry you because you are me.

What the fuck does that mean?

Without you... I am not me.

I am someone else, someone less.

With you, baby, I am man.

I am proud.

- It's happened already, yes?
- What?

They're training you to hate us.

Don't be a dickhead.

Will you fucking stop doing that?!

- What?
- Always grabbing my face!

- You don't get to touch my face anymore!
- Why not?

Just go away.

- What's going on?
- What do you mean, what's going on?

He's been bang up for you coming home
and you're treating him like shit.

- What's going on with you?!
- I said I'd make sure things were smooth between you.

- What's it gotta do with you?
- We're helping each other out and that.

Oh, shut up!

Molly, go back inside and be nice.

Show him a bit of respect.

What is all this shit about respect?!

Why don't you go in there and you
treat him with a bit of respect?!

You don't talk to me
like that, understand?!

He's doing me a favour.

Oh, God! What?

What's it gotta do with you?

Well, obviously quite a lot
if he's doing you a favour

and I'm part of the deal.

You're going to marry him anyway,

what difference does it make if
he thinks I'm the one allowing it?

Allowing it?

You what? You butt out, love, yeah?

So you're my pimp now, Dad, is that right?

Just fucking marry him, Molly. For Daddy.

You know, that's exactly what
were fighting for in Afghanistan.

What?

So that women can have a say in who they
marry or if they want to get married at all.

What a load of bullshit!

Were out there fighting to show the
ragheads were no fucking pushover.

Look, Molls, we've come
up with a way to make us...

Well, not rich, but sorted.

- You and Artan?
- Exactly.

They've taken me off the
sick, I'm back on Job Seekers.

I can't afford to feed the family any more.

Imagine how that makes me feel, Moll.

I've got a start with a Russian
firm building on Aldgate.

Artan's got a cousin working there.

Now, if I can persuade you to marry him,

his cousins going to put
a nail gun through my hand.

I mean, brilliant or what?
Now, say you'll marry him.

Fucking hell, Dad, has
the booze finally done

your last brain cell
in!? You're off your nut!

That's how much you know, then.

I'll get a huge wedge
compensation from the Russians

and I'll be on the sick for life.

We've thought it all through
and all you've got to do...

And if you don't...

if you don't, Moll,

there'll be very serious
repercussions for the whole family!

Yeah, you want that, eh?

I promise you, you won't
see any of us again.

Not your mum, not your
bothers or your sisters.

- That's a fact.
- Fine.

You don't want to see
me, fine. I'll see Mum.

Oh, no, you won't, she's 100% behind me

because she's a proper wife.

Like you're going to be.

I mean, you join the Army,

you're happy to get your
head blown off for England,

you're saying you won't do a simple
thing for your own flesh and blood?

- Ready?
- When you are.

- Just going to fuck off, then, yeah?
- Without saying nothing.

It ain't like that.

Don't give it like you're anything
special! You're in the Army!

Anyone can join the fucking Army.
They let her in for starters!

Yeah. We ain't good enough for you no more.

Wrong, bitch! You're not
good enough for us anymore!

Come on, Mar, let's go.

Loser!

There's things I know and there's
things you don't know I know.

- Yeah? What's that supposed to mean?
- I'll put it this way.

Once upon a time, I'd have knocked
your teeth down your throat.

But why should I make you better looking?

Come on!

One, two, three!

Two, one, two!

- Guess what?
- Go on.

This lot...

... needs sorting and
putting in the stores.

Sorry, guys. Another few bits.

Do you want us to unload
that trolley, Corp?

These are previously enjoyed. They'll
need going through the laundry first.

Then ironed, ladies.

And there was me thinking we'd
go into town for a Ruby later.

Right, I'll take that below and do it.

You keep stacking, Molly Dawes.

Stop looking at me. I know I look a mess.

You look a lot better than
when you first arrived!

You flirting?

I've got a duty of care. Flirting verboten.

I won't say nothing.

Here, pass us them boxes, please, Corp.

But I do understand it must be
hard for you to control yourself

- when you're around me, Dawes.
- Oh! Dream on, Corp.

As it happens, it's pretty obvious
that you're proper loved up with me.

How d'you work that one out, then?

You UFAS-ing Chris Ingram's.

What, you reckon that
was down to you and him?

Can I tell you that was absolutely
nothing to do with you and him?

He was a good soldier, you know that.

You're joking. His attitude stank.

And all that crap that he was
saying in the canteen was not on.

How do you know what he was
saying to me in the canteen?

All that about brain
washing and like were a cult.

He thought he was cleverer
than the system. No-one is.

So he was right, it is like a cult.

It's a family.

You write that letter?

Dawes?

- Yes, Sergeant.
- Stand easy.

Bit of bad news, I'm afraid.

Your fathers had an accident at work.

They've taken him to hospital,

but your mother informs
me he's going to be fine.

- Sergeant...
- If it's all right with you, Corporal,

I think we can excuse Dawes
the Realities Of War tour

- and she can have a few days compassionate.
- Fine.

Excuse me, Sergeant.

I want to go on the
trip, please. Thank you.

Nine different regiments
stood shoulder to shoulder

to fend off the German advance.

They knew that had the
Germans broken through,

the allied position would
have been nigh on impossible.

And life in the trenches...

often up to your thighs in
foul, rancid, rat-infested water.

And these rats were huge,

they had so much waste and
dead human flesh to feast on.

And then, there was the mustard gas,

which caused great
mustard-coloured blisters.

Your eyes would be glued shut.

The gas would attack the lungs,

making every breath an agonising fight

until after four of five weeks, the
poison would eventually kill you,

giving the rats even
more carrion to devour.

Every one of these graves tells us a story,

not just of some brave Tommy,

but of a brother, a father, a son

who died doing what they
saw was their duty...

their service to the nation.

In Flanders fields
The poppies blow.

Between the crosses, row on row.

That mark our place.

And in the sky.

The larks, still bravely singing
Fly.

Scarce heard amid the guns below.

We are the dead.

Scarce days ago.

We lived, felt dawn
Saw sunset glow.

Loved and were loved.

And now we lie.

In Flanders fields.

Take up our quarrel with the foe:

To you from failing hands we throw.

The torch, be yours to hold it high.

If ye break faith with us who die.

We shall not sleep.

Though poppies grow.

In Flanders fields.

Who was that?

Oh, it's my sister. I
didn't feel like chatting.

Mum, it's only me.

I just wanted to hear your voice.

D'you want a cup of tea?

If that was Molly, she's been told.

- We don't want nothing to do with her no more.
- Yeah, I know.

If she ever rings, you put
the phone straight down, yeah?

Yes.

Have nothing to do with the selfish mare.

And I just wanted you
to know that I love you.

You will come to passing
out, wont you, Mum?

Please try, it's a big deal.

It's important.

Turn!

General salute!

Present arms!

Devastating blast by just one
man wearing a suicide belt.

Al-Qaedas weapon of choice.
Undetected by security...

This is Private Dawes, she's
joining the Royal Army Medical Corps.

Private Dawes, good morning. How are you?

- Very well, sir.
- And all the very best. Welcome to the RAMC.

- Thank you, sir.
- Well done.

Not out celebrating with your family?

Can I stay here tonight?

I start at Keogh tomorrow.

Exactly, so don't you want to... ?

I know what every second
would be like till the morning.

I got my next lot of recruits
coming in tomorrow morning.

Does your duty of care prevent you

from necking a bottle of
warm flat lemonade with me?

I think I'll be able to square
that with the Ministry of Defence.

I feel strange.

You'll do fine. First
impressions, remember.

No gobbing off on day one.

Me?

Six months corps and then the real thing.

Can you drink in Afghanistan?

No chance.

I just wanted to say thanks.

I'm a soldier, Corporal!

Only fucking just.

Ah, I thought you might be hiding.

I'm not hiding, I'm just...
getting my stuff together and that.

My Aunties driving me up to Birmingham.

- Oh! Look after yourself, Katy.
- I will.

Keep in touch, OK?

Rumour has it, you can go on
Facebook at Keogh, so... watch out!

We only bleeding done it!

The next 14 weeks, I
am your mother, father,

boyfriend, grandma and your
bloody God all rolled into one.

You are mine,

and, more importantly, I am yours.

The next weeks are going to
need your absolute concentration

and dedication.

Those determined enough will pass out.

Those that dig deeper than
they ever thought they could

and find new strengths, will pass through.

Those that do not give up in the
face of adversity will do all right.

You want it enough, you will get it.

I promise you that.

Hello, Zero. This is Charlie Two One.

Contact! Wait out!

Help! Please help!

Help! Help!

Keep still, Private.

Keep still. Good lad. Lie still as you can.

I'm going to get you out of here, OK?

Keep looking at me. I'm going
to get you out of here, OK?

I'll be right back, you understand?

How you doing, Corporal?

I've lost my foot.

I know you're my section commander,
but right now, I'm in charge,

I need you to man up. All right, man up!

See, what did I tell you?
I'm right back. Hello, Zero.

This is Charlie Two One. One T1 to one T2.

Insurgents!

Right, I need to get you back to the Jeep.

Good work, Private.

Thanks, Sarge.

So, why d'you pick the Private?

Well, he lost both legs,
was losing a lot of blood.

The other lad lost a foot,
but he was fully conscious.

I had to make a decision quickly.

Thanks, lads. Go and
get yourselves some scoff

and pick up your Oscars
once you've eaten, yeah?

You know, you don't just go
to who screams the loudest.

No, Sarge. I wanted to
tourniquet the Private

- before I jumped on the Corporal.
- What about me?

Took full impact of the blast,
assessed unable to survive.

No, seriously, when you
was screaming your nut off,

I thought something had
really happened! Private Dawes!

You got a visitor, down the guard room.

Mum!

What's the matter? What's happened?

- Nothing.
- Well, what you doing here, then?

Oh, charming.

I don't mean it like that, it's just...

I wanted to see you.
That's all right, isn't it?

- How did you get here?
- Train.

Why didn't you let me know?!

Does Dad know you're here?

No.

Where does he think you are?

Taking the baby up the hospital
for his six-month check.

We were there all day last time!

You look well.

Knackered.

They working you hard?

Well, you know, there's a lot to learn.

That phone call...

What phone call? Can't remember.

I had to see you, Molly.

Can't remember a phone call.
I must have been pissed.

You never come to passing out.

It was difficult with your dad.

Does he hate me?

Cor, he loves you, Molly.

And how's the baby?

As big a pain in the arse
as the rest of us six?

Yeah, carrying on a fine family tradition!

We all look out for each other here, Mum.

I had to see you, Molly.
I had to touch you.

Don't set me off, Mum.
You know what I'm like.

Do you have to go?

I want to go.

Oh, God!

God, it was weird climbing those steps.

When we knew we'd be stepping
out into a different world.

All that training, Mum.

All those months making me... me.

And this was it, this
was what it was all for.

I was proud to sit with
each and every soul.

Good people.

Every time I'm out on patrol,
I think of you back home.

Back home seems a long way away right now,

but it's never been so crisp
and clear and perfect in my mind.

If I listen carefully, I can
hear the kids playing, laughing.

Like when you put a shell to your ear

and you think you can hear the sea.

Maybe you do! Cos I can
hear all you lot right now.

Tell the kids I love
them. The little bleeders.

I love being out on
patrol. I love Afghanistan.

The sounds, the smells,
the heat on my skin.

Nothing worries me anymore, Mum,

I've got it sorted.

Anyway, if you're reading
this, it means they got me.

They get us to write these
letters from the grave.

Seems mad to think that I
won't ever see you again.

I didn't want to write,

but my Corporal said there'd be
a Molly-sized hole in your heart

if I was killed.

I don't want a hole in your heart, Mum.

Your heart is way too good
to have any hole in it.

Anyway, let's hope I died gallantly.

Let's hope they've
spooned me into a body bag

after doing something heroic.

It's funny to think that the thing

that made me into some
sort of decent human being

has been the death of me.

But, it's better this way, isn't it?

Does that make any sense?

It is better to have done
something, been someone,

have my name read out by
the Prime Minister, isn't it?

Soldiers killed in Afghanistan...

I love you, Mum.

Tell Dad I love him, too.

Our girl will be all right.

Serving in the Helmand Province
have been withdrawn until next year.

The Prime Minister came here to
tell the British troops himself

that within months...

The war in Afghanistan is coming to an end,

but after 11 years of
conflict, at what price?

- synced and corrected by chamallow -
- www.addic7ed.com -