All language subtitles for The Last Rifleman (2023).eng

Hold the line.

Do you know
they eat snails in France?

Aye.

Whatever you say, Charlie.

See, when this is all done,

me and you, we can go and get Maggie
and we can bring her to Paris,

and we can go up
to the top of the Eiffel Tower,

and we can drink champagne and all.

The Three Musketeers
from East Belfast, eh?

Incoming!

Incoming!

Move on! Move on!

Come on! Come on!

Incoming!

Oh, Jesus Christ!

Argh!

We're sitting ducks out here!
Hold the line!

Come on, Artie!

Oh.

Oh.

Ooh.

Oh, my God.

Oh.

Oh.

Mornin', Artie. Mmm.

Hey.
And how are we today?

Oh.

Not a bad morning.

You might get to sit out again.

Don't forget to take those tablets.

Can I give you a hand with anything?

No.

She's awake, Artie.

What? What?

Maggie's awake. Oh.

Hi.

Mmm.

Hello.

Hello, there.

Hello.

Oh.

Oh.

Oh...

Charlie.

No, love.

No.

It's Artie.

It's Artie.

Oh.

Aye.

'You are watching Breakfast News

on Friday, the 24th May.
The time here is ten past eight.

As the 75th anniversary of
D-Day approaches, we look back...'

Good morning, Artie.
'at the personal stories

of the young men and their families
touched by the horrors of war.

More than 150,000
US, British and Canadian soldiers

stormed the beaches of Normandy
on the 6th June, 1944.

The massive movement
of troops and artillery...'

Raspberry ripple today, love.

Your favourite.

There you go, there.
Haven't had that in a long time.

Remember when
we'd go to Bangor for the day, eh?

We got raspberry ripple there.

Aye. That one time with Gloria,

when Caroline was wee.

Rained the whole day, so it did.

Not that you were bothered.

You sang The Day We Went To Bangor
all the way home on the train.

Aye.

Aye.

Aye.

Mmm.

Night-night, love.

Oh.

Oh.

I'm sorry, Artie.

Maggie's gone.

What?!

She went peacefully in her sleep.

Oh.

Oh!

Oh, Maggie.

Oh, Maggie.

Maggie, I'm here.

I'm here, Maggie. I'm here, Maggie.

I'm here.

Oh, Maggie.

I'm here, Maggie.

Oh, Maggie.

Oh, Maggie, Maggie...

I'm here.

I'm here, Maggie.

Mum, please?

Go on.

Come on, Granda-Daddy.

It's time to go.

Will you be OK now?
I will.

We'll come visit again next week. Aye.

Now, just you look after yourself...

and be nice to those nurses.

Aye, I will.

Bye now.

Bye, Granda-Daddy.

Alright. Bye.

'Tomorrow, on the eve
of the 75th anniversary of D-Day...'

Oh!'..this very special group
of veterans

will travel to Portsmouth,
before...'

Load of old nonsense,
if you ask me.

Still living off past glories,
the lot of them.

'The Royal British Legion
has chartered this ship, the HMS...'

You never went back there,
Artie, in all this time?

Not that I blame you. I mean,

who in their right mind
would go back to that place?

Leave the past
where it bloody belongs.

That's what I say.
'..the first time in Normandy

since witnessing
unspeakable horrors first hand.'

Oh.

Oh...

Oh.

Oh.

Ooh.

Oh, Maggie.

Ooh!

Good morning. Lough Valley
Nursing Home. Tracy speaking.

Yeah, transferring you now.

I'm sorry, Artie.

What? Mrs Tedjury's a bit busy
at the minute. Can I help you?

Good morning. Lough Valley
Nursing Home. Tracy speaking.

I'd love for you to go, Artie,

but we've a responsibility
to your family

and a duty of care to you.
Ha!

I am fitter than men half my age.

You're a 92-year-old diabetic. Aye.

With erratic blood pressure... Ha.

...and a weak heart. Well...

You have a dysfunctional kidney,

arthritis

and a medication plan so complex
that students use it for research.

Even if you could travel,
I couldn't let you go

without a medical team
and an air ambulance on standby.

Ah. Sounds like
you have me dead and buried already.

You alright?
Och, kind of.

Hey, Artie. Hey.

Oh.
What're you at?

Are you planning
a wee excursion or something?

Aye, I am.
Where to?

Up your hole, picking daisies.

How in the name of God do you think
you're going to get to Normandy?

You can't even find the bathroom
on your own.

Very funny.

Listen, Artie.

We were all put out about Maggie.

She was a fine woman, no question.

But... is this not a bit extreme?

You survived it once.

Going back there now
is only asking for trouble.

Well, I wish you luck.

You're going to need it.

If you say
"during the war" once more,

I'm gonna pour this cup of tea
right over your head.

'I wasn't gonna say
"during the war".'

'Well, that's alright, then.'
'Bloody little know-all.'

'Alright.'
''

'I'm sorry.'
'Thank you.'

'During the 1939-1945 conflict
with Germany...'

''

Dear Charlie...

...when you get this letter...

..played a critical
role in the run-up to D-Day.

'The Normandy invasions
were originally...'

Just get off me.
Come on, let's go.

Come on.

'..delayed by 24 hours
after the prediction of bad rain.

Of course, the weather
had been taken into account

for sea, for air and for land.'

Oh.

'The weather on the 5th June
in 1944 wasn't great,

but today it's not bad at all,
with many parts of the country...'

Oh.

You alright?
Kind of.

Artie?

Artie!

♪ SWING BAND INTRO:
Don't Fence Me In

♪ Oh, give me land, lots of land
under starry skies above

♪ Don't fence me in

♪ Let me ride through
the wide open country that I love

♪ Don't fence me in

♪ Let me be by myself
in the evening breeze

♪ Listen to the murmur
of the cottonwood trees

♪ Send me off forever,
but I ask you please... ♪

Jesus! Where'd you come from?

Don't stand there gawking.

Come on, give us a hand.
Give us a hand. Come on.

Come over here.

Alright.

But you're from the nursing home,
aren't you?

What's this? Bloody jail break?

- The station.
- What?
Which way is the station?

Hurry up. I haven't got all day.

Right, this isn't gonna...
Hey! Don't you dare.

I'm not getting the blame for this. OK.

Here you go.

20?

Second street on the left. Then
go straight to the top of the road.

OK.

Well, I'll drive you there for 30.

Good morning, sir.
And where are we for today?

Good morning. Good morning.

Dublin.
Dublin, indeed?

Day-out in the big smoke?
Aye.

And no better way
to do it than by train.

So you get
the 11:30 express to Dublin.

You got your SmartPass?

What?
If you're over 65,

you're entitled
to free travel north and south,

but I need your SmartPass. Ooh.

Here you are.

92.

Aye, and three-quarters.
I think that entitles you.

Argh!

Ah.

Blood pressure. Aye.

I often forget to take them
when I'm travelling,

though I can't imagine missing
the odd one would make a difference.

But I suppose
you daren't take the risk.

My daughter's always nagging me
about my tablets.

Sorry, I'm babbling on.

Again.

Bad nerves, apparently.

Do you have children?

Sorry?

Ooh, yes, yes.

We had a daughter after many years,

and a granddaughter
and a great-grandson.

You're very fortunate,
you know that?

Take my husband -
he was only 48 when he died.

Never got to see his grandchildren. Oh.

He always said,
"It doesn't matter what age you are,

We all have our expiry dates."

Hmm.

I should have died in the war,
but I didn't.

Oh?

I'm 92-and-three-quarter years old.

Well past my expiry date.

'We are now approaching
Dublin Connolly Station.

This train terminates here.'

Come in.
Tom's here.

You wanted to see me?
Yes, Tom.

Take a seat.

You're pally with Artie Crawford,
aren't you, Tom?

I wouldn't say pally now.

I see the pair of you
chatting at breakfast.

I chat. You'd be lucky
to get a grunt out of him.

Artie appears to be missing.
His suitcase...

He's escaped?
It's not a prison, Tom.

His toiletries are gone.

Some of his clothes are missing
and his passport.

Oh, won't get far on that.
It's years out of date.

How do you know?

Well, at his age it must be,
mustn't it?

Did he say anything to you -
anything at all?

You know Artie.

Man of mystery.

Aye. That's good.
There you go.

Oh, that's lovely.
Thank you so much.

Good luck.
Thank you. Appreciate it.

Excuse me, excuse me. I'm looking
for the train to Rosslare.

Just missed it, I'm afraid.
Next one's not until 3:45.

Ah. Does it go to the port?

I need to catch
the night ferry to France.

The six o'clock ferry?
Aye.

You won't make that, not by train.

The next service doesn't get in
to Rosslare until half past six.

Ah.

I shouldn't be saying this,
but if you get the bus...

There's an express service
goes straight to the port.

So what you want to do is
you want to go out the main exit,

down the escalator,
and you'll find a taxi rank there.

They'll take you to the bus depot.
OK?

Hey, check this.
Oh!

Nice one, Trigger. Pure deadly.

Got him proper good, eh?

That's my bench, mister,
and you're trespassin' on it.

Yeah, you're trespassin'.

Go on, Grandad, sling your hook.
Yeah!

And don't forget your kacks.

What age are you anyway - like, 100?

Probably 200.
Hey! Hey!

What are you playing at?
I was only joking with him.

You want to pick on someone?

I'll give you someone to pick on,
you feckin' toerags.

Go on!

Thank you.
Young ones these days -

shower of bleedin' wasters.

Aye.

Oh.

Normandy, eh?

Were you there...

at D-Day?

I was.
Fair play to you.

Yous had balls, I'll say that.

You still do,
going back there at your age.

Though to be honest with you,
I never liked the British.

Don't get me wrong now,
a lot of good men died on D-Day.

A lot of good Irishmen too.

But the Brits
have screwed us over for centuries.

You have to remember that.

But that's all in the past now, right?

We're all the best of friends
these days.

But what you fellas done
on them beaches.

Well, I've seen that film
Saving Private Ryan.

And what you fellas done
was a hell of a thing.

A hell of a thing.

There go you go, sir.
That's you now.

How much do I owe you?
No, no, put that away.

Never had a D-Day veteran
in my cab before.

It's an honour.
Oh, that's very kind.

Very kind. Thank you.

Here, let me help you with that.

Oh.

That's not fair.

Not enough space.

Oh. Ooh!

Ennio Morricone.

He's a movie composer.

I know.

I met him.

Ennio Morricone?

In Verona.

That's in Italy.

You went to his concert?

An anniversary present for my wife.

No way.

How did you meet him?
Turned out

he was staying
at the same hotel as us

and it was his birthday.

- No way?
- Aye. He came down
and introduced himself to us all.

He had a fine handshake -
I remember that.

That's awesome, that. Aye.

My wife thought so.

Aye.

Maestro.

Huh?

I remember
everyone called him that -

maestro.

Well, would it be alright

if I shook the hand of the man
who shook of hand of THE maestro?

Ah.

There you go.

I'm Rory.
Aye, Artie.

♪ ENNIO MORRICONE:
Gabriel's Oboe (Part 1): The Mission

Thank you.

Isn't that awesome?

I mean, with the choir
and the orchestra and everything?

And that oboe.
I mean, who even thought

that an oboe
could even sound like that?

Didn't that remind you of Verona?

Aye.

Thank you.

Right,
seems the fuel pump's banjaxed.

They're sending a replacement coach
down from Dublin.

So just sit tight and, er,

well, sorry about the inconvenience.

I doubt either of us
will make our sailings at this rate.

I mean, by the time
they get their act together

and get another bus
and then bring it down here.

Aye.

An hour?! Half these passengers
are on the six o'clock ferry,

and I'm not losing my licence again
bombing down that bleedin' road.

Oh, here, what the...
Here, I'll call you back. Hey!

What the hell are you playing at?
Stay on the bus. It's not safe.

It's alright, he's with me.
You what?

He's gonna bleedin' walk
to Rosslare, is he?

It's changed times, Artie. Nobody
stops for hitchhikers nowadays.

Changed times, indeed.

Tony McCann, Irish Journal.

Uh-huh.

OK.

Artie Crawford?

♪ INHALER: Ice Cream Sundae

♪ I'm in the pursuit of happiness

♪ I'm gonna get it

♪ I'm gonna get it

♪ But the hours
are getting longer... ♪

I grew up near here. Aye.

Nothing to write home about, though.

Nothing's ever happened
in Enniscorthy.

The Battle of Vinegar Hill?

Vinegar what?
1798.

Wolfe Tone, the United Irishmen?

Did they teach you
nothing at school?

The Battle of Vinegar Hill was
a turning point in the Rebellion.

Irishmen
- Catholics and Protestants alike -

were united in a common cause.

Independence from the British.

Alright.

So, Artie, what's your story?

I fought with the United Irishmen.

So, I did. Aye.

But FOR the British.

All for one and one for all, eh?

Aye.

I'm sorry, sir.

I'm afraid we can't disclose
information on residents.

I'm sure you understand.

But by all accounts,
Artie's no longer a resident, is he?

Not if he's done a runner.

So, HAS he done a runner?

Look, Tracy...

That's a beautiful name, by the way.

I respect your professionalism,
but think about it for a minute.

"War veteran escapes old folks' home
to meet his army buddies in France.

Hashtag D-Day heroes."
People will love it.

Look,
I could get you a special mention.

Big photograph, you and Artie,
front page, full colour.

Boom, what do you say?

Front page - no way?
I swear to God.

I'd have to get my hair done.

Of course. Got to look your best.

Buy a new outfit.
Knock yourself out.

Bikini or swimsuit?

You have a lovely day, Tracy.

You too... sir.

I need you to book me
onto the next flight to Paris.

I'm gonna need a car
- something decent this time -

and, er,
make sure you get one with sat-nav.

♪ Meet me
on the other side of town

♪ By the one-way roads
and city bound... ♪

So, Artie,
what's this mission that you're on?

Top secret, is it?

Artie, are you OK?

Artie?

Artie, can you hear me?

Oh.
What's wrong with him?

I don't know.
Is he having a stroke or what?

No, I don't think so.
Well, do something.

I'm thinking.
Jesus Christ!

All I need is for him to die on me.
No-one's dying.

Here, grab one of those.
What?

I've seen this before.
Artie, are you diabetic?

No, no, no, the other one.
He needs sugar.

Jesus!
OK, now open it.

Give him small sips.
You want ME to do it?

Well, I can hardly give it to him,
can I?

Here, Artie, sip this.
It'll make you feel better.

Good man, Artie.

That's it. Try and swallow now.
Shit, we should call an ambulance!

Calm down.
That's easy for you to say.

I'm the one
that took him hitchhiking.

What the hell was I thinking?
That's it, Artie.

You'll feel a lot better now
when you get that into you.

He's coming round.

Thank God for that. Jesus Christ,
I don't know about you, Artie,

but I'm too bloody young
to be having heart attacks.

Why didn't you say
you hadn't eaten since breakfast?

I took a banana.

Being diabetic is not
something you take lightly, Artie,

especially at your age. Yeah.

What if you got sick on the ferry?
I mean, no disrespect,

but, er, you're no spring chicken.

An old army buddy of mine
- Bumper Jones -

he's a Dublin lad.

He said I had nine lives.

He used to call me
the Artful Dodger.

Everyone seemed to get shot
or blown up or something -

everyone except me.

Even when I did take a shell,
I survived.

Took half the side off me,

but I survived.

The Artful Dodger.

I'll be fine.

I will now.

Careful with it now.

Look out below.

So, the Cherbourg ferry's
- just through there.
- Right.

I'm headed to Wales,
so I guess this is it.

Off you go to Wales now. You go
and have a good time and be safe.

Have lots of laughs.
I could help you check in.

No, no, don't worry.
I'll be fine, son. I'll be fine.

Thank you.

See you, then.
Oh, mind the leg.

Aye. I will.

Make sure you get a solid meal as
soon as you get on board, won't you?

I will. I will. I will.

Alright, thank you. Thank you, both.

It's been a pleasure, maestro.

Oh, aye.

It's clearly me, huh?

You can see from the photograph.
Look, that's me.

Yes,
but's 17 years out of date, sir.

What? Is that so? Are you sure?
It expired in 2002.

Aye now, but it's me.

Look, there you go now.
Arthur Crawford.

I believe you, sir. But you need a
valid passport to travel to France.

No exceptions.

My wife normally
organised things like this.

But, erm,

she's... she's dead.

I'm sorry, but
it's French Customs and Immigration.

The memorial service is tomorrow.

The D-Day anniversary.

I need to be in Normandy.

Hold your wish now.
Here you go. Here you go.

I can't let you travel, sir.

I'd lose my job.

Now, if you don't mind,
we have customers

with valid passports
waiting to check in. Next!

Passports and travel documents, please.

I heard what she said, sir.
She's right.

They'll just send you straight back.

Sorry.

Is there anything I can do?
Do you need a taxi or a bus?

No, no, no.

Excuse me, excuse me.

I never introduced myself.

My name's Artie Crawford,

Second Battalion
Royal Ulster Rifles, retired.

I have to get to France,

and you might be my only hope.

I'm sorry, sir.

Erm, I'd love to help
- I really would -

but the custom people in Cherbourg
check every passenger in every car.

Aye.
And that's why you can help me.

Can I have your tickets?

Thank you.
Thank you.

Ooh.

Artie.

I got you a cabin.

'Well, it's
one exam down, but many more to go.

For most Leaving Cert students,
their next big challenge

is English Paper II
tomorrow afternoon.

This is Emma O'Kelly, RTE News,

Scoil Mhuire gan Smal in Blarney.'

'And still to come on Tonight 61,
we have more from Doonbeg,

and - declared at last -
12 days after voting,

the final seats
are filled in Ireland South.'

'Hello, RTE news desk.'

Aye, come in.

Oh, Juliette.

Don't show yourself, Artie,
or we'll all end up behind bars.

We're in the next cabin
if you need us.

You didn't have to do all of this,
you know.

My grandmother was in the Resistance
during the war.

She helped
British soldiers escape from France.

So maybe it's in our blood -

smuggling soldiers.

Shh.

Can we issue Tom Malcomson
with a gagging order?

You might want to do more than that.

I have RTE holding on line one.
You cannot be serious.

Their Northern editor wants to run
the story in the news tonight.

None of them seem to care
that a 92-year-old

might be lying in a ditch somewhere.

Have you tried Artie's family again?
They still haven't heard a thing.

What about the police?
They've checked with the airlines.

No bookings under his name.

So if Artie IS trying
to get to France, he's not flying.

Oh.

Right.

'Absolutely.'
'

'

'Artie Crawford was just 16

when he signed up
to fight the Germans in 1943.

He landed in Normandy...'
Mummy, wake up!

'Now 75 years on...'Look!
'..he's trying to fight his way

back to France...'
It's Granda-Daddy.

'..to be part
of the D-Day anniversary.'

Mum, Mum, come in here quick.

'It was my idea
that Artie go back to France,

out of respect, you see,
for the thousands

of brave young men,
patriotic young men,

who made the ultimate sacrifice,
lest we forget.'

'We'll find out soon enough
if indeed Artie has made his way

back to Normandy
after all these years

and who, if anyone, will be
waiting for him if he gets there.

Tommy Gorman, RTE News, Belfast.'

Jesus Christ!

Free fire!

Come on, Artie!

Artie, come on!

Come on, Artie!

Good morning.

Artie!

Your blood pressure's very low.

Without knowing
what medication you're on,

I can't prescribe you anything.

We really need
to contact your doctor.

Oh, no, no, no, no. No, no.

How's our patient doing?

He needs to get to a hospital
for a full check-up.

Well, we'll be in Cherbourg
in an hour. I'll radio ahead.

So, tell me Mr...

Crawford,
how did you get on board our vessel

with an out-of-date passport?

You do know
this is a criminal offence...

What's my sentence, huh?

Life?

I'm still gonna have
to contact the authorities

to let them know we have a stowaway.

A 92-year-old stowaway.

92 and three-quarters.

We'll have an ambulance
meet you at Cherbourg.

In the meantime, don't go anywhere.

Aye.

I can't believe it.

After getting this far,

I can't go back.

I can't give up now.

Looks like
you don't have much of a choice.

It's my mother...

arranging to collect
the children at the weekend.

It's back to reality for both of us,
it seems.

What's your reality?

When we return,
I go into hospital...

for a procedure.

I'm sure it'll be fine.

The doctor's optimistic

and they have success now
treating that kind of...

It'll be fine, I'm sure.

The holiday was to help
take the children's minds off it.

Jacques is small
- he doesn't understand -

but it's been hard on Sophie.

She worries.

So I worry about her.

And the father?

Hmm.

It's just us -

Les Trois Mousquetaires.

Us Three Musketeers.

'Hello. How can I place your call?'

Hello.
Hello.

'Hello?

Hello, sir?

Sir, can I help you?'

Witch.

Mr Crawford?

Oui?

Merci.

Passeport, si'l vous plait.

Merci.

Good luck.

Oh, thank you.

Smile, Artie.

Getting close.

Ladies and gentlemen,

we are about to commence
our approach to Paris,

Charles de Gaulle.
Please return to your seats

and ensure
your seatbelts are fastened,

your tray tables are stowed
and your seat back is upright.

Mate. Excuse me, mate.
I'm burstin'. Thanks.

Passport, please.

Merci.

Oh, no.

Oh, my God.

Take one?

No, thank you.

Oh.

Doo-do!

Whaaaa-whaaa!

Do you like ice cream?

Hmm.

Thank you.

Two 99's, please, with, er...

er...

whatchamacall them?
Er, they're our favourites.

Er, er...

two 99's.

Artie?
Raspberry ripple.

Oh, raspberry ripple. Of course!
How could I forget that?

Two 99's, please,
with raspberry ripple,

and don't hold back
on the raspberry.

No, don't do that.

Oh.

Artie.

Artie, can you hear me?

Hmm. What?

Do you like ice cream?

Hmm, yes.

I like ice cream.

I do too.

Oh, look at this. Tres.

Oh, that's a feast.

Even.

Thank you.

Merci.

Cheers.
Thank you.

My.

So, what you're saying is

they found my father?

Yes.
And then lost him again?

We don't quite know what happened,
but the authorities on both sides

have assured me
they're doing everything they can.

My father has just lost
his wife of 68 years.

I can't even begin to imagine
the pain he's feeling right now.

So, if he has gone back to France
after all these years, then...

...he must have a very good reason.

Going somewhere, Tom?

What, me? Huh.

You know what she said.

What - that I am under house arrest?

I suggested shackles and chains.

But apparently, there's laws.

What about my phone?

Ah, you'll get it back...

once you're longer
a threat to society.

So I have good news.

There's a tour bus of veterans.
Uh-huh.

And they're happy
to drop you off at Cambes-en-Plaine.

Oh, that's great news.

Which regiment?
The Scottish Borderers?

Um...
The Staffordshires?

Not exactly.

Germans?

I'm sorry, Artie,

I would take you,
but we have to go south.

Aye, b...

Bloody Germans.

They were soldiers, just like you.

Ah, but... Aye.

Are you going to be OK?

I'll be fine.

I'm still fit enough
to take on a few old Jerries.

Bonne chance.
Bonne chance.

Don't you worry now
about Sophie or Jacques.

They're going to be fine.

I promise you now.

Oh, thank you, Sophie.

You take care of your mother now.

OK?
I will. I will.

She'll be fine.

What the f...

Mate, I'm stuck here.

Me no speak no other language, mate.

Ah, come on!

Friedrich Mueller.

Berlin.

Artie Crawford.
Pleased to meet you.

Belfast.

12th Panzer Division?

Yes.

12th SS Panzer Division.

At the end of the war,
you had little choice.

Hitlerjugend?
I was in the Hitler Youth.

Were you not in the Boy Scouts?
Hmm.

A boy of 12
is looking for adventure.

In Berlin... or Belfast.

I was 14 when
I graduated into the Hitler Youth.

It was the proudest day.

To feel important
for the first time in my life.

People would salute me
in the street,

treat me like
I was some kind of a hero.

The girls.

Then at 16,
I was drafted into the SS,

sent to Normandy...

and everything changed.

You murdered innocent men.

Soldiers who lay wounded,

dying.

Murder is a strong word.

Medics who tried to help,

shot in cold blood.

It was war.
Aye, it was war.

And there were rules.

We knew nothing of rules.

We were just boys.

We were all just boys.

You're right.

I saw terrible things.

We did terrible things.

And I've had to live with that.

Aye, we all have.

We all have.

It's a shock to learn
you've lost the war.

It's a greater shock

to discover
you've been on the wrong side.

Friends of yours?

75 years ago,
we tried to kill each other.

None of us can ever forget.

But maybe...

we can forgive.

♪ It's a long way to Tipperary

♪ It's a long way to go

♪ It's a long way to Tipperary

♪ To the sweetest girl I know

♪ Bye-bye, Piccadilly

♪ Farewell, Leicester Square

♪ It's a long, long way to Tipperary

♪ But my heart lies there ♪

Artie.

Perhaps another place...

in another time,

we might have drank
a schnapps together.

Aye.

Perhaps.

Oh, please check again.

The Royal Ulster Rifles Regiment

from Northern Ireland.
I am sorry,

but there are no services
for that regiment.

What? Well, maybe you've got
the wrong programme there.

Maybe your regiment
did not attend this year?

No, no, no, no.
They always come back here.

The Second Battalion Royal Ulster
Rifles always comes back here.

Unless it is
an unofficial visit, Monsieur.

Sometimes that happens.

There were some Americans here
this morning and...

Bonjour.
Bonjour.

Have you seen this man?

No, no.

Ooh.

Oh!

Excuse me a minute, Melanie. I...

Excuse, sir.

Do you mind if I join you?

You look like
you could be needing some company.

I know I could.

Corporal Lincoln Jefferson Adams,
United States Army.

Artie Crawford.

British Army.

An honour to meet you, Artie.

My granddaughter Melanie here believes

I shouldn't be bothering people,

but I keep telling her,
at our age...

...life's too short not to.

Nice to meet you, Artie.
Nice to meet you.

Which unit would you be in?

2nd Battalion,

Royal Ulster Rifles.

Infantryman, huh?

I was artillery myself.

320th Barrage Balloon Battalion -

anti-aircraft balloons.

You'd looked up on D-Day,

you'd have seen them for sure.

Hmm.

Er, in fact...

...there you go.

Oh, look at that.

Fine sight, wouldn't you say?

Oh, aye.

Might have just been
big gas balloons,

but they could kept
those dive bombers off the beaches.

Now, that's me at the back,

and that's my little brother
Ulysses Quincy Adams.

We signed up the very same day.

The 320th was the only all-black
combat unit in Normandy on D-Day.

The, er, Buffalo Soldiers regiment?
Hell, no!

That's the 92nd.

They were sunning
their pretty selves in Italy,

while we were on the beaches
in Normandy catching hell.

Ah...

Melanie, step here a minute,
will you, hon?

Would you like a drink, Artie?
Grandpa!

I'm just being polite, honey.

Whisky maybe?
Lincoln.

Two Jack Daniels, Melanie.
That is, if you don't mind.

Grandchildren.

Bonjour.

Please tell me you've seen this guy.
Oui, oui.

He was here, like,
15, 20 minutes ago.

You're kidding?
No, no, he went that way.

Merci beaucoup.

De rien.

I got given a medal today.

The first African-American
combat soldier to set foot on Omaha.

They even installed a balloon
over Omaha Beach in my honour.

Wasn't that nice?

I met this SS veteran today.

You're kidding me.

But the thing is...

...he wasn't a bad sort.
None of them are,

not after
getting their asses whipped, hmm?

First and last today, Grandpa. OK?

The first time
we ever tried to take Cambes Wood,

oh, we got a hammering, we did.

Charlie and me.

We were sheltering in a ditch
with this English fella.

He was a lot older than us.
Big Goliath of a fella.

I was terrified.

The shelling and the mortaring
and all of it.

So, this English boy,
he puts his arms around me,

you know, to comfort me.

And you know what?

I could feel him trembling.

Really trembling.

Oh...

and that frightened me
more than all the shelling did.

You know, scared me.

Knowing that he was frightened too.

Aye.

A child can't take comfort
in a frightened adult.

And we were all just children then.

Just... wee boys.

We were all scared to death.

Anyone tell you otherwise
is just a damned liar.

That's the truth.

I'm afraid it's time to go, Grandpa.
The bus is leaving soon.

Mm-hmm.

I told you I was the first
African-American on Omaha that day.

I was the second.

My little brother went before me.

First down the ramp.

First into the water.

First to get his head blown off.

And they gave ME the medal.

That's the thing
about folks like us, Artie.

We're all living with ghosts.

Artie Crawford?
Aye.

Tony McCann, Irish Journal. Oh.

I've been looking everywhere
for you. Mind if I join you?

Artie, you've caused quite the stir.

I didn't think you'd make it,
to be honest.

What are you talking about?
I'm doing a story on D-Day,

but it's really about you -
your crazy journey to get here,

gallivanting around Europe.

You're a celebrity,
all over the news.

"The Last Rifleman."

The Last Rifleman?

That's gonna be my headline.

Kind of like
The Last Of The Mohicans, you know.

What do you mean - the last?

They say
you're the last of your regiment.

You mean, the 2nd Battalion?

No, I mean ALL of the battalions.

Oh, oh, no, no, no, you're mistaken.

I thought you knew.

Well, the others will be here.

Artie...
There will be others here.

- They always are.
- Artie...
You're wrong. You're wrong.

Artie.
What?

There are no others.

You're the last of them.

The last of the Royal Ulster Rifles.

- No.
- Artie.

Jesus Christ!

Free fire!

Artie, come on!

Artie, come on!

You are quite the soldier,
Monsieur Crawford.

Without your medication, it is
a miracle that you made it this far.

We contacted your nursing home.

There is already someone on
- their way here to take you back.
- Oh.

I am afraid, for you,
the celebrations are over.

No more running around the country, Monsieur.

And no more whisky.

This fell out of your jacket
in the ambulance.

This Charlie...

you need us to contact him for you?

No.

It's too late now.

Thank you.

Oh.

Jesus, Artie, I've never seen
someone faint before.

Scared the crap out of me.

What do you want?

I am just following
the hero's story.

Don't shoot the messenger.

There ain't no hero.

I killed my best friend.

Aye.

Yeah, I thought that would grab you.

Back in the war,

just a few miles from here.

Aye,
we were getting hit from all sides.

I was terrified.

But Charlie...

he wouldn't go on without me.

He was like a brother.

If he'd kept on going,

if he'd only just kept on going,
he would have been fine.

But he turned back.

He just got blown to pieces
right before my eyes.

And all because...

because of me.

Well, how's that your fault?

You don't understand.

There was a war.

Shit happens. Loads of people die.

I was scared, alright?

How does that
fit into your big hero story?

You tell me, huh?

Go away. Go away.

Artie.

What are you doing lying here?

Oh.

Bonjour.
Bonjour.

Go on. Finish what you came for.

What?

So you can finish YOUR story?

Well,
every man's got to earn a living.

Aye.

My God,

so many young lads.

Local fellas from back home.

I had no idea.

Aye, we all wrote letters,
so we did...

...before heading to France,

just in case we got killed.

Charlie had just got engaged.

He wouldn't write a goodbye letter.

Thought it was bad luck.

So, after he died,

I wrote Charlie's letter,

and when I got home,

I gave it to Maggie.

Oh...

she was heartbroken.

But the letter
gave her some comfort.

You see...

...Maggie had always been
Charlie's girl...

...even when they were little.

So, he got to tell her that
in his letter.

The letter she kept.

Er, Maggie and me...

...we'd been together
for 68 years before she passed.

68 happy years.

But she would've married Charlie,
if he'd lived.

And I've had
to live with that all my life.

Oh...

I'm sorry, Charlie.

My good friend.

I'll see you soon.

Dear Charlie,

when you get this letter,

you will know
my time has also come.

Some of us
live long and full lives.

Others live
shorter, perhaps fuller lives.

We had such good times together.

Looking back on them now,

I can honestly say they were some
of the happiest days of my life.

We were young and carefree,

and the world
was there for the taking.

Or so we thought.

Not everything
works out the way you'd expect.

Fate intervenes,

for better or for worse.

I am not sad, Charlie.

I've had a happy life.

Artie has been a good husband to me.

He has loved me and cared for me,

even if he often thought
he was second best.

But we mustn't have regrets.

Only gratitude
for a life well-lived.

We'll all be together again soon.

The Three Musketeers
of East Belfast.

Until then, Charlie,

all for one and one for all.

Yours, forever with love...

Maggie.

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