All language subtitles for Operation.Mincemeat.2021.1080p.BluRay.x264.AAC5.1-[YTS.MX]

(Typewriter clacking)

Fleming: In any story,
if it's a good story,

there is that which is seen
and that which is hidden.

(Waves crashing)

This is especially true
in stories of war.

There is the war we see,

a contest of bombs and bullets,

courage, sacrifice and brute force,

as we count the winners,
the losers and the dead.

(Wind howling)

Officer: Heave!

Fleming: But alongside this war,

another war is waged.

A battleground in shades of grey,

played out in deception,
seduction and bad faith.

The participants are strange.

They are seldom what they seem,

and fiction and reality blur.

(Typewriter clacking)

This war is a wilderness of mirrors,

in which the truth is protected
by a bodyguard of lies.

For the love of Christ.

We should have heard by now.

(Typewriter clacking)

Fleming: This is our war.

(Dramatic music playing)

Dear god.

(Dramatic music continues)

Pray.

(Imperceptible)

(Teleprinter continues clacking)

(Typewriter clacking)

Montagu: "As [looked up
into the darkened sky,

"I made a vow.

"I would give the old country
another day to fit me into something;

"and if nothing happened, I would
take the next boat for the cape."

"It was then,
as I was fitting my key into the door,

"that I noticed a man at my elbow.

"I'd not seen him approach, and his
sudden appearance made me start.

'"May I come in for a minute?'
The man said,

"steadying his voice with effort."

And if it were us, omega,
would we let him in?

Depends on whether or not
he knew the code, agent zed.

"No sooner was he through the door..."

He did let him in.

"Then the odd little man
poured himself a stiff whisky

"and drank it in three gulps.

"'Pardon, ' he said.
'I'm a bit rattled tonight.

"'You see, I happen
at this moment to be dead.'"

I think it's best we keep reading.

Tomorrow's a day
of high adventure, agent.

I think it's best you sleep. (Kisses)

They're here.

(Softly) Good night.

(Door closes)

(Guests chatting indistinctly)

Ivor: This gorgeous delicacy
is Afghan cheese,

made from the milk of a long-horned
and lovesick sheep.

You must be a smuggler, ivor.

Exotic cheese.
The rest of us on rations.

I could manage your front office,
you know.

At the cheese eaters' league.

Has my brother left you
unemployed, hester,

- now that he's retiring?
- Is that the rumour?

I hope that's not the reason
for this party.

Are you not retiring?

I've written a lovely speech
saying you are.

Well, then, I suggest you write
a lovely speech saying that I am not.

- This is simply a hiatus.
- (Dinner bell ringing)

Naval supplies.
He's off to whip them into shape.

A noble contribution
to this ghastly war.

Maritime hardware.
I have a passion for it.

Ivor, ewen. I'm afraid it's that time.

Ivor: That it is, darling.

- I have prepared a dazzling toast.
- Iris: Mmm.

Though why we're not cheering you
on your last night at home...

Oh, don't be silly.

King's counsel deserves
a proper send-off into retirement.

Hester, will you tell my husband
his guests await him?

Absurd, isn't it? This "retirement" bit?

When both of us know my brother
hasn't tried a case in three years.

And gossip has it he's been knee-deep
in intelligence for some time.

- Hester: Lvor.
- (Glass clinking)

A grown man, gossiping like a fishwife.

Ivor: Has he been bumped over to mi5?

- Special mission?
- Oh, my cue. I see.

Surely he's taking you with him,
whatever it is?

You really do have
an uncanny nose for cheese.

Montagu: To my distinguished
friends and colleagues,

in whose honour we have
uncorked a vintage spam.

- (Guests laughing)
- A devious cabal

of immediate family
has billed this as my retirement.

But you, my cherished guests,
are clever enough to know

that I will be buried in my silks before
I will ever hang them up for good.

(Guests laugh)

So let us instead consider this a cheers
to my now full-time post

- as superintendent of nautical rivets...
- (Guests laugh)

And whatever nuts and bolts
may be required

by dear england in her hour of need.

(Guests chuckle)

But the real tribute tonight
goes to his, my brilliant wife,

who in the morning,
sails to less troubled shores

with our nestlings in tow.

His is wiser than Solomon,

stronger than Samson
and more patient than job.

She has to be. She's married to me.

(Laughter)

(Guests clapping)

(Triumphant music playing in cinema)

Film narrator:
In the Moroccan city of Casablanca,

prime minister Churchill has held
meetings with president Roosevelt

to agree plans
for the next stage of the war.

As Hitler's Nazis tighten their grip
on occupied Europe,

a mighty host of allied troops...

Excuse me. Thank you.

(Cholmondeley clears throat)

Excuse me. Thank you.

And prepare for a battle that
will decide the fate of the free world.

In the words of
president Franklin Roosevelt,

"the fascists asked for it,
and they're going to get it."

We work together, if I'm not mistaken.

You're not mistaken.

(Film narrator continues indistinctly)

Have you seen the main feature,
confessions of a Nazi spy?

It's, erm, based on a real, erm,
FBI agent, Leon g turrou, t-u-r-r-o-u,

who tracked Nazi spy rings
in the United States in 1938

and went on, amazingly,
to arrest a number of Germans

- for espionage.
- (Man grunts)

Sorry I'm late.

I'll let you watch.
(Clears throat awkwardly)

Film narrator:
Every man under his command.

(Indistinct conversations)

It was very gracious,
what you said tonight.

- More gracious than it needed to be.
- I meant every word.

And I didn't mean for it
to hurt you this way. My leaving.

It seems I'm always the last to go.

(Sniffles)

Stronger than Samson.

We're off first thing in the morning
and I haven't finished packing.

Well, up you go, then.
Safe journey, my dear.

I will write to you.

We'll write to each other.

(Iris kisses and sniffles)

(Footsteps recede)

They have to go.

Of course they do.

If Hitler reaches London,

a Jewish family
will be the first on their list.

I would never expose his
and the children to that danger.

A separation made all the more painful

if it were to become permanent.

She told you?

I've pleaded my case many times...

For our family... for the marriage.

Iris says marriages change,

that romance and love
belong to the young.

I don't believe that, or feel it.

And the thought they may
never be coming back...

I know I can be remote...

And lost in my work.

Not as attentive as I might be.

You're an imperfect person.
I doubt you're the first.

I want Iris to be happy,

even if it comes at the expense
of my own happiness.

I've never heard her
say a word about unhappiness.

That's because she knows
you'd jump on a grenade for me.

Only on your good days.

Iris said if I really cared,
I'd come to america with them.

Oh, people say all sorts of things.

She knows your duty is to your family
and your country.

The nightmare marching this way
is only too real.

And masterman has asked me
to serve on the twenty committee.

So you must.

Starting tomorrow.

(Soft music playing)

Montagu: Goodbye, darlings.

(Girl crying softly)

All right, now. That's it. That's it.

Godspeed, darling.

Our family manor
will be a freezing tomb without you.

Take care of your brother,
ivor, and yourself.

It's cold.

I'll see to a fresh pot immediately.

They will drag me back
to the bowels any moment.

Fresh air. Such a luxury now.

Let's walk.

Everyone but a bloody fool
will know it's sicily.

Godfrey: That may be, prime minister,
but it is the only path fonnard,

given that we must find a way
into Europe

and the most strategic path is sicily.

It leads to Rome. France will follow.

A successful assault on sicily means
we would knock Italy out of the war,

shatter Nazi morale and spell
the beginning of their inevitable doom.

Inevitable? Our losses mount daily.

You said yourself, sir,
sicily is the soft underbelly.

Churchill: I know what I said.

I want to know how it will be achieved,

convincing herr Hitler
we're not going to do

what anyone with a bloody atlas
can see we'll do.

Hitler will need to believe
that our next target is Greece.

Which, yes, will require
an elaborate deception.

A deception plan so complex,

I believe it can only be handled
by the twenty committee.

Godfrey: Which is why I shall focus

the committee's attention
on the trout memo,

the document I compiled a few years ago,

to which my assistant,
lieutenant commander Ian Fleming,

made some contribution.

"Intelligence is like trout fishing.

"The trout Fisher, in tying his lure,
attempts to attract the fish..."

I detest fish.

Fish as metaphor, in this case.

Er, the trout memo is
our definitive blueprint for spycraft.

Prime minister, the memo
in the hands of the twenty committee

may, I believe, hold the key
to deceiving Hitler,

and while some of the ideas
may appear fantastic...

I applaud the fantastic.

It has many advantages over the mundane.

But the more fantastic,
the more foolproof the plan must be.

Our troops are near dead
from heat in Africa.

I gave Roosevelt my word
sicily was next.

An invasion date of July
is now set in stone,

and right now, thousands of our boys
already lie in Europe's soil.

If we do not fool the Nazis

and the enemy is waiting for us
on those beaches...

History herself will avert her eyes
from the slaughter.

Cholmondeley: Mother?

Mother, please do not touch
the dolomite while I'm at work.

A lobe in one of the cams is missing.

I don't have time to find it now,
but haven't we learned

that an overhead camshaft
is virtually useless

without its properly functioning mate?

You might worry
about finding your own mate.

I hope to return with sugar cubes.

And Robbie?

Have you had success
in bringing Robbie home?

I'm doing all that I can.

- Pulling strings, like you promised?
- Every string within grasp.

A real-life war hero.

- And where is chittagong?
- Bengal

(Suspenseful music playing)

Godfrey: Good god. What's he doing here?

Montagu? I invited him.

That was a mistake.

Godfrey: The main deception
that we'll feed the Nazis

will run as follows.

Our "12th army", which does not exist,

with its 12 divisions,
which also do not exist,

will invade Greece six months from now,

on the 10th of July.

We will develop numerous tactics
to reinforce this deception.

Bogus troop movements.
Fake radio traffic.

Our agents will recruit
Greek interpreters,

buy up a sizable cache of drachma.

All to take the focus off sicily,

the real target and the site
of the actual invasion that same day.

And the centrepiece of this deception?

Godfrey: As I just said, commander,

the 12th army is the centrepiece.

Montagu: It's not enough, I'm afraid.

The tactics you just outlined
would point to Greece,

but if we are to get Hitler
to divert actual troops from sicily,

given her strategic importance,

we would need to provide him with proof
of our intention towards Greece.

- Fake proof, of course.
- I agree with that.

And to that end, erm,

I've also been working
on a deception plan,

which I've dubbed
operation trojan horse.

It's a ruse taken from the trout memo.

- Idea number 28.
- Number 28.

A corpse carrying false papers
drops on the coast from a parachute

that supposedly failed.

The trout memo is dead.

I believe the prime minister
has an aversion to fish, admiral.

He did not kill the entire memo.

A corpse carrying fake documents, hmm?

Of all the ideas in the trout memo,
that one is by far the most precarious.

Except the Germans will be skittish
on account of Spain,

where they recently failed
to follow up real papers

on the body of an airman
washed up in ca'diz.

So may I suggest the timing is perfect?

Godfrey: For trojan horse?
Cholmondeley: Mmm.

A code name a child could decipher.

And the Germans will be expecting us to
plant papers precisely because of cadiz.

Or the Nazis, being linear thinkers,

will not want to make
the same mistake twice.

It's simply a version
of the haversack ruse.

- Of which of course I am well aware.
- Montagu: Then you will also be aware

the ruse has a good track record,
which is what I believe, my friend...

Er, flight lieutenant cholmondeley,

- c-h-o-I-m-o-n-d-e-I-e-y.
- Was trying to say.

For those of you who don't know

lieutenant commander montagu,
he joins us from the old Bailey,

which means he's had little time
to spend in deception.

I've spent my days in court, sir.

Hence, he is blind
to the obvious pitfalls

of tossing a letter-laden corpse
into the sea.

Montagu: I'm simply saying
that for a deception to reach Hitler,

it must have a channel.

Spain is neutral,
the ideal place to launch such a plan

because she is crawling with spies
from both sides.

She has a vast coastline...

Cholmondeley: And since our agents
in Madrid have an elaborate network,

we could quite literally
float the documents

right into enemy hands.

Montagu and cholmondeley
are clearly convinced

they have a direct line to the fl'ihrer.

So let's wish them both luck
implementing operation trojan horse.

The rest of us will proceed
with the operation I have outlined.

Fleming: I have a vested interest
in this plot,

which is why I told m,
in no uncertain terms,

you'll need a secure space,
command centre, a staff.

But do we think it can work?

I know I just made a case for it.

An eloquent case.
It's the haversack ruse.

It's tried, tested.
Deception needs a channel.

- Those were your words.
- They were.

I'm only imagining a dead body
hurtling through the air.

The plan is bold, there's no question.

But it's ours now, regardless.
M's seen to that.

Although, what if the body
does disintegrate on impact?

Fleming: Let's not bring that up now,
shall we?

And definitely not in front of m.

Montagu: Why do you call Godfrey "m"?
Fleming: Because I called my mother 'm".

The most terrifying, most impossible,
most demanding creature I've ever known.

Cholmondeley:
What if the plane with the body

is intercepted before he's dropped?

Montagu:
So, mother has no faith in this?

Fleming: That's because number 28
wasn't Godfrey's idea. It was mine.

A plot I cribbed
from basil thomson's novel,

the milliner's hat.

- Have you read thomson?
- Montagu: I prefer buchan.

Cholmondeley: What if the autopsy
reveals that he didn't die of drowning?

Or if the briefcase is returned to us
without the Germans seeing its contents?

Charles, why on earth do you
keep poking holes in our plan?

I'm pre-emptively poking.

To ensure all the details
are properly thought through.

Because as Godfrey made clear, our feet
will be held to the fire soon enough.

The plan will work if we make it work.

He's put you down here.

Montagu: We'll certainly be removed
from prying eyes.

Cholmondeley: Removed from life
in all forms, even air.

Will you be joining us
down here, Fleming?

I will likely stay upstairs.

But, "whomever is equally industrious
will succeed equally well."

- The milliner's hat, no doubt.
- Oh.

(Door closes)

Cholmondeley:
Oh, well, the twenty committee

certainly has its advantages,
I suppose, if you like spooks.

My friends think
I'm working in naval supplies.

My mother believes I'm a clerk.

- And Robert cholmondeley?
- My brother.

I did hear the news from chittagong.

My deepest condolences.

Oh, yes, we've lost a real hero.

Leaving my mother with me, the penguin.

Raf pilot and officer
with big feet and bad eyes.

Which means I'm, in effect, grounded.

Flightless bird.

Well, what say we start
with the easy part

and find ourselves a corpse?

You can take your pick, to be honest.

Hester:
That goes right down the corridor.

Right, you can go
straight through there.

Two, three. Lift.

You did say drownings?

(Phone ringing)

Room 13.

- Coroner birtwistle for you.
- Montagu.

Hester: This is the same
official secrets act

you signed for bletchley,

but this covers your work
with the twenty committee

and here in room 13.

Male, of service age, drowned.
Now, tell me why you want him.

Where are his legs?

And are there 20
in the twenty committee?

No. "Twenty" is a joke. Two x's.

Oh. The Roman numerals.

- As in "double-cross"?
- (Laughing)

You will use your bletchley skills
to fish for cues in decoded chatter

about sicily, Greece,
enemy troops in those areas.

Is that understood?

The team in 102
are planning fake training exercises.

106 are running double agents.

107 will be dropping leaflets on Cyprus.

I don't know yet
what the leaflets will say.

And yet here we are in a huge city
in the middle of a world war,

and we can't seem to find ourselves
a single suitable corpse.

We need an insider.

We need Bentley purchase.

And to what purpose
would the body be put?

A warlike operation.
It's really all we can say.

Although we can also say
that the body must be male,

of service age, intact,
and could pass for a drowning.

Intriguing. But I'll have to demur.

Public confidence in our office
would be irreparably shaken

if something like that got out.

Montagu: Like the darby case?

You remember the darby case, Bentley.

I brought you in
to give the evidence a second look.

Your testimony won the case.
The case cemented your reputation.

Which led to your position here,
if I'm not mistaken.

(Clicks tongue) In a nutshell.

The matter here is urgent.

It is top secret,
and it is approved at the highest level.

It cannot be high enough.

Churchill has approved it.

Fresh as a Daisy.

Transferred from
st pancras hospital yesterday.

Nurse Tate: What is your name, dear?

This is... was... glyndwr Michael.

Nurse Tate:
What is it you do for work, glyndwr?

Purchase: There is no occupation noted
in the man's chart.

It appears he was originally
from aberbargoed.

But in London, he was a vagrant.
No fixed address.

Cause of death was chemical toxicity
from rat poison left on bread.

I want you to know
god forgives you, glyndwr,

for hating yourself so much
you'd take your own life.

Purchase: Appears the man ended his life
while of unsound mind.

Luckily for us, the human body
contains a host of chemicals naturally,

so determining how he died,
should he be immersed in water,

would require a highly skilled coroner.

Where would you be landing him?

Most likely a small coastal town.

Purchase: Where the local coroner,
if there's one at all,

won't have the foggiest idea
why this chap kicked the bucket.

Do you have any relatives, glyndwr?

Do you have a next of kin?

(Wheezing softly)

The body is unclaimed.

But, I must warn you,
our friend will soon start to rot.

I can place him in our coldest box,

which will retard decomposition
but not arrest it,

meaning if glyndwr Michael
is to be of any use to you at all,

he must be in service
within three months.

(Typewriter clacking)

Fleming: In the real war,

there are constant reminders
of the brutality at hand.

A quarter of a million
lie dead in battle,

an unspeakable horror

with no end in sight.

I'll be at my club.

And I shall be up to no good.

As usual.

Fleming: While in the other war,
the war of shadows,

normal life appears to continue,

itself an act of canny deception.

(Jazz music playing)

(People chattering)

In this war, real lives are also lost.

And even fictional lives
can meet an untimely end.

Montagu: I believe my guests
have preceded me, Teddy.

They have, sir,
and ordered their drinks.

Thank you.

Fleming: And once in a great while,

the laws of nature
reverse themselves entirely

and the dead are made alive again.

We were just discussing our chap.

Crucial thing is that he must be real.

As real as you or I.

He must have parents, for example.

Rank, regiment, bank accounts,
love of theatre.

Nicotine habit. He attended oundle.

Flew kites as a boy.

And on a blustery day, you'll still
find him kiting in dulwich park.

The thing is the Germans will scrutinise
every detail of our fallen man,

so the slightest inconsistency...

Montagu: Ah, Teddy, thank you.

- Martini.
- Thank you.

- Gin and lemon for the lady.
- Thank you.

Even the slightest inconsistency
will signal the ruse.

So, to create a real fake man
from a real dead man, we start by...

By giving him a real real name.

John would be solid.

James. George. Robert is good.

That's my brother's name.

Montagu: Of course. Forgive me.

- But William could work.
- Montagu: It could.

And William would be a royal marine.

An officer in the royal marines
if he's carrying secret letters.

Montagu: Exactly right.

An officer in the royal marines
with a common British name,

so that when the Germans
check the Navy lists,

it will be harder to track down a...

Major William Martin.

With your identification number.
How very clever.

So if the Germans do follow the name...

Cholmondeley:
Ewen will be the first to know.

There it is. As if I were him.

Now all we need is his photograph.

In royal marine blues.

No, no, marines travel in battle dress,
and our marine will be travelling.

And the uniform cannot appear new.

It must be broken down.

It must have exactly
the right patina of wear.

As if I were him.

Hester: There must be a love story.

If major Martin's life
is to be believable.

Montagu: Objection.
Creation of a material fact.

A real life need not be a romantic one.

He would carry a letter
from his betrothed

professing her deep love for him.

That's very good.

That's precisely
the level of detail we need.

- And he would carry her photograph.
- Yes.

We clearly read different novels.

Well, why not ask
some of our female colleagues

if they might be willing
to submit snapshots?

And perhaps we can find a partner
for our major Martin.

That's not a risk?

Picking a girl working in the admiralty?

She's an anonymous girl
washed up on a distant shore.

She might even be thrilled

to find herself in the middle
of a dangerous plot.

Lives at stake. Countries at war.

Her lover torn away by duty and fate.

You want me to help you?

Cholmondeley: And by extension,
help your country.

Yes, you know
all the girls in the office,

and, erm, I've seen the way
you go about your work.

You're very clever
and, er, meticulous and...

- You've been watching me.
- No. No, not...

Certainly there's nothing untoward.
I simply...

(Sighs)

If you could point me to a girl
who would give us her photograph.

But what would her photograph
be used for?

Well, I'm afraid that's classified.

But, erm, by donating her image,

she'd be involved in
and on the ground floor

of a significant operation.

Operation trojan horse?

It's been renamed.
Something less obvious.

Operation mincemeat.

Due to the dead body.

You surmised that rather quickly.

- I already knew the plot.
- Ah.

Would something like this do?

Taken by my husband a long time ago.

Your husband? I didn't realise.

Erm... well, it...
It's lovely. It's perfect...

It could be my contribution
to the mission.

First of many, perhaps.

My photograph in exchange
for a seat at the table.

Very well.

Jean: I'm all ears.

Well, we've managed to find a body.

Pretty as a picture.

Cholmondeley: And the process
of transforming him

into major William Martin is underway.

(Camera flash popping)

Bloody hell.

Let's just not attempt to
make him smile again, please.

It does none of us any favours.

Because he looks dead, Bentley.

Whatever we do. Just deader and deader.

It's hard to come alive
for one's close-up in this state.

If we bungle one tiny detail,

a droopy eyelid, an open mouth
instead of a smile,

we might as well telegraph
Berlin ourselves it's all a hoax.

Then may I suggest a live face?

That looks just like the dead face?

In a city of nine million,

surely someone resembles our friend?

- (Soft piano music playing)
- (People chattering)

Do we think he'd be dancing,
major Martin, if he were here?

Well, he is an officer.

Cholmondeley:
Well, not all officers dance.

I doubt our bill
gives two figs for dancing.

- No. Too full in the face.
- Without the moustache?

His brow is too heavy.

Why don't we try something easier,
for god's sake,

like looking for tits on a bull.

(Hester chuckles)

Forgive me. That was uncalled for.

No. I saw the photographs.
It's called for.

As for dancing, I suspect
the major's not much for a foxtrot,

but could clear the floor with a tango.

Hester: Our progress to date,

major bill Martin
is an industrious chap,

occasionally forgetful,
habitually tardy,

but also clever.

- Amend that to brilliant.
- And he's not good with money.

So we should include
an overdraft letter in his briefcase.

And is he happy? Is he a happy man?

Montagu: He wants to be.

He started out with such promise,

a sense of hope about the world,
about his future.

But now it all seems dark, uncertain.

He is in the middle of a war.

Exactly right.
He signed up for the royal marines.

But once commissioned
was consigned to a desk,

which he despised.

Because the life he really wanted
was one of daring and intrigue,

and so he escaped and
he switched to the commandos,

where he distinguished himself
in technical matters...

Specifically the mechanics
of landing craft.

Yes, and he predicted
that the dieppe raid

- would be a catastrophe.
- Montagu: And how right he was.

He sounds like a character
from sir John's latest novel.

- Masterman? He's writing a novel?
- Jean: A spy novel.

Apparently he thinks of me as his muse.

Montagu: Well, then he may be
in for a duel,

because you're major Martin's muse now.

The girl I was at 20 is his muse.

Nevertheless it's your photograph
that will be pressed to his heart

when he washes ashore.

Yes, wallet litter is what you are.
(Chuckles)

Not as in rubbish.

That's just spy parlance

for the bits and pieces
that one finds in one's pockets.

- And do I have a name?
- Pam.

Not five weeks ago, the major
looked across a crowded room...

Across a crowded room? (Chuckles)

The major sat at a small table
in a strange bar

and found himself with a woman

both known and unknown to him
all at once.

Within days, something deep
and unexpected had blossomed,

culminating in a diamond ring
slid onto Pam's slim finger,

as bill revealed himself to her
as a changed man.

Man: Jean?

Jean.

- There you are.
- I've had him down as a guest.

Yes, under lieutenant
commander montagu's name.

Thank you.

- Please, sit.
- Thanks.

Suppose it's very fashionable
these days, marrying an American.

Who me? Oh, no, that'd be my lucky day.

Jean and I only just met.

But, uh, well, so far,
she tolerates me well enough,

- so I guess there's hope.
- I'm a widow.

So, this is my friend,
sergeant Roger dearborn.

Roger: It's nice to meet you all.

Jean said you wanted to talk to me?

(Camera flash popping)

Or you didn't wanna talk to me?

No, we did. Because we were
discussing something,

a top secret project.

Cholmondeley: A study.

Profiling American servicemen

and how they might integrate
with British troops.

That's top secret?

You should see the havoc
the Nazis wreaked

with the radio antenna.

Well, I'm not sure
what that has to do...

What... what we're wondering
is whether you would care

to participate in the project.

It wouldn't take much of your time.
Just answer a few questions.

Allow us to take your photograph.

We could arrange for you to
come round to the admiralty.

Say, tomorrow.

Go on. It'll be fun.

- Okay, then.
- Very nice to meet you.

So I'll see you tomorrow. See you soon.

What do you think? Will he do?

I know he's not a perfect match, but...

A gift horse. He will do.

A toast.

To Pam, our secret weapon,

who's already managed to see
what we could not.

(Giggles)

Jean: No, I think it was after
university that bill took up the bass.

Montagu: Actually,
I think it was the trumpet.

Jean: Which was frowned upon
by his mother antonia,

a devout catholic who at all times
kept a candle lit for st Jude.

Montagu: Every piece makes a whole.
Our man is a mosaic.

Will you wake your family,
getting home so late?

My wife is in america with the children.

Hester told me just this morning

she'd taken a job there
with British security coordination.

Hester told you?

May I just say

I was very sorry
to hear of your husband.

I've been alone for many years,

which is why it pleases me
to see bill and Pam so madly in love.

Pam is very lucky
to have you cheering her on.

And bill you.

Thank you for walking with me.

Montagu: I can see you all the way home.

Jean: Actually, I think I'll stay.
Montagu: What, in there? Alone?

I couldn't possibly.

I'm perfectly capable
of taking care of myself.

Who would argue otherwise?

(Muffled music playing)

It's bill and Pam's favourite song.

- (Swing music playing)
- (Laughter)

(Laughing)

Jean: Whoo!

It was more like a lethal Lindy hop.

You flattened every male
of fighting age in the place.

I was testing it out.

Ah, secret weapon against the Nazis.

Pam's secret weapon.

Her way of forgetting her woes.

Major Martin will need
the stamina of an ox.

(Jean chuckles)

She's a surprising woman, though,
isn't she, Pam?

At a crossroads in her life.
Still young.

Probably hasn't quite found her stride.

Is she younger than bill?

I hadn't pictured them that way.

Well, bill's hardly old.

If you say so.

What I think Pam sees in bill,

beyond the dashing figure he cuts
when he walks into a room,

is something deeper.

And bill suspects the same in her.

But at first, all he sees
is a woman of fierce intelligence,

uncommon grace,
a demon on the dance floor.

(Laughing)

A woman ready to take wing.

I think she's already on her way.

A happy story.

Except that he's off to war.

Which is tomorrow's work.
And I'll need your help.

I'll wait here till you're in.

I'll be fine. Thank you.

Good night.

(Typewriter clacking)

Hester: Writing sample number five.

Standard blue/black,
in leather wallet in pocket,

soaked overnight in seawater.

Seawater from...

It does matter, hester.

Disposal shut down the road
in all directions.

Child found an unexploded
fire bomb in her garden.

Oh, dear god.

Montagu: And the word from bletchley?

Patricia: Nazi command
still expects us to launch

a naval assault on Europe.

But they suspect a massive deception
operation is underway.

They still believe
sicily will be the target.

So, two months of work

and we've managed to deceive
the enemy of precisely nothing.

The one bright spot is
I found a hydrographer.

I'm meeting him now.

Well, I hope it's not hespers
from naval operations.

The man is an incorrigible skirt-chaser.

My skirt can defend itself.

But I could use
your expertise, commander.

Montagu: Very well.

(Phone ringing)

- Room 13.
- That is his rank.

- Lieutenant commander.
- Connie: Of course.

They were just less formal
when I saw them a few weeks ago.

- Dancing at rainbow corner.
- (Women laugh)

Lieutenant. Admiral Godfrey.

(Connie and Patricia
continue chattering)

Admiral.

So where are we with mincemeat?

Cholmondeley:
We're on a solid footing, sir.

Yes, major Martin is as real
as you or I.

He has hobbies, debts, a girl.
They're to marry.

- We have a ring.
- Huh. Touching.

We believe major Martin
should be delivered by submarine,

rather than air dropping
and risk dismemberment.

And we are convinced that Spain

is still the best place
to float him ashore,

given the fascist network there

and Spain's neutrality.

And we believe the plan
is ready to present, sir.

To the prime minister.

I agree.

You...

Well, er, that's excellent news.

I'll present it to Churchill
this afternoon.

I'll need a brief.

Well, we've prepared one for you, sir.
You'll be more than ready.

And your partnership with montagu.
Please.

How has that fared?

Nothing short of first rate, sir.

Montagu and I think with one mind.
We, erm...

We've developed a shorthand,
become good friends.

Hmm. So you've met his brother,
then, ivor?

No, no. Montagu rarely speaks of him.

Were you aware
he's a communist sympathiser?

Montagu's brother? Well, it's absurd.

Godfrey:
Our intelligence suggests otherwise.

Why would our intelligence
be watching ivor montagu?

Whatever ivor may or may not be,

his brother would be unaware of it.

It's always sound policy
to keep one's ear to the ground.

Don't you think?

Thank you.

I shall look forward to good news
from the prime minister, sir.

(Footsteps receding)

Jean: I only mention it because Charles
asked me out to dinner tonight.

Did you invite him to join us?

I didn't say I was going with you.
I sensed he'd be upset somehow.

Montagu: But that's silly.
The man's not a child.

Oh. I almost forgot.

What do you think?

It's beautiful.

Charles and I ducked out
at lunch yesterday.

He preferred the round cut,
but I prevailed with the marquise.

Let's see it on.

The only place this belongs
is in the safe.

- Admiralty property.
- Yes, of course.

You think Pam will like it?

Jean: I think she might.

Cholmondeley:
This should be in the safe.

Yes. I was about to put it back.

Wanted to show it to Jean.

- You gave it to Jean?
- I showed it to her.

I wanted to see what she thought of it.

If you're so concerned,
stow it away yourself.

In matters of protocol,
it seems bad practice, sloppy even,

for us to be going off
as separate pairs.

Like you and Godfrey?

He called you in alone just now,
didn't he?

Why was that?

Godfrey is only happy when
he's stirring up suspicion and discord,

- as you well know.
- Hester: Room 13.

(Phone ringing)

Bentley purchase for you.

Yes, Bentley, what is it?

Purchase:
I've had an unexpected visitor.

Miss Michael heard
of her brother's passing

from staff at the hospital.

A kindly nurse who cared for him then
took it upon herself to find his kin.

God bless her.

Please accept our deepest...

We only had each other. You know?

He needed looking after, glynnie.

But I let him go to London.

And then...

(Sobbing)

Churchill: Stamps. Tickets.

An unwrapped mint.

- It's called wallet litter, sir.
- Yes, I know what it is.

But it's the letters in the case that
are key to this deception, are they not?

Godfrey: They are.

Military correspondence

indicating that we will invade Greece

while hinting
that our cover plan is sicily.

Yes. The brief contains
details of the correspondence.

What happens when the ink washes off
as the letter Bobs in the sea?

They need to use waterproof ink.

Only someone planning to drown
writes in waterproof ink.

Yes, that's true, but, er...

Churchill: A detail
your men clearly understand,

as they state here that further testing
of undetectable waterproof inks

remains to be done.

(Churchill makes kissing sounds)

Yes, good boy. (Urging) Come here.

Given how little
you appreciated this plan, admiral,

Rufus and I wonder why
you're endorsing it at all.

I am not endorsing it, prime minister.

My advice is that mincemeat is killed
before it sees the light of day.

Our other deception plans are strategies

designed to confuse the enemy,
throw him off balance.

Mincemeat, on the other hand,
is an outright lie,

a lie that if detected would expose
every single other deception as false.

The Germans would know unequivocally
we were landing in sicily.

I think that's too big a risk.

Nonetheless, I would like to keep
mincemeat running a little longer.

It may yield intelligence
on ivor montagu,

whom we suspect is a Russian spy.

You would put the fate
of one Russian spy

over tens of thousands in sicily?

With respect, prime minister,

I'm trying to look
at the bigger picture.

Russia may be our ally at the moment,

but she was until recently
in a pact with Germany.

I believe she will soon be
our enemy again.

If ivor montagu is spying for Moscow,
he can be turned.

Or, if necessary, eliminated.

This is the problem
when one is dealing with spooks.

You do see it?

The corkscrew thinking
required to manage spies

sometimes twists one too many turns

until one finds oneself charging forward

while at the same time
looking out of one's own arse.

I assume you're referring to me.

Russia is tomorrow's war.

The Nazis are expecting a deception.

Which means that our effort
must be unbelievable enough

to make it believable.

The plan is risky.
It's also highly implausible.

Meaning that all the reasons
it shouldn't work

are the same reasons
the Germans might believe it's true.

So when can it be ready?

- Immediately?
- Correct.

Gather your resources.

Put mincemeat in the works as of now.

Of course, sir.

(Door opens and closes)

Do you think we can get him buried soon?

Not that anyone's
waiting for me at home,

but a simple service might be nice.

The truth is, glyndwr is employed now.

Employed?

In the service of his country.

He's not dead?

He is engaged in a top secret mission.

As what?

You do know that glynnie
was never right in the head?

Well, that may be
your experience of glyndwr,

but, erm, people are often
one way with family,

a different way entirely
out in the world.

One minute Jekyll, the next Hyde.

- Where is he?
- We have Churchill's approval.

As you just heard, miss Michael,

the prime minister has approved
the plan to make your brother a hero.

We do understand that
this is the most enormous sacrifice.

But his service...

He can save literally thousands,
tens of thousands of lives.

What did you do to him?

Did you carve him up
for experiments? Or rations?

Maybe you should tell the police
about what you did to my brother.

Miss Michael,
in acknowledgement of his service,

and empowered by
his majesty's government

and by glyndwr himself,

it is my honour to offer you
this generous remuneration.

- You're bribing me.
- Your brother is going to war.

He's trying to do the right thing
for his country.

His country is trying
to do the right thing by you.

Please.

May glynnie's poor,
suffering soul rest in peace.

No thanks to you.

May god forgive us all.

Ainsworth: I miss Spain already.

There's a reason we stay
as far from headquarters as possible.

Yes, we envy you. Daily.

I must congratulate you,
if I may, captain ainsworth,

on the night starling.

I grabbed a copy at hatchards yesterday.

I've not been able to put it down.

Ainsworth: You're very kind.

My god. Who isn't writing a novel?

Montagu: Admiral.
Our naval attache in Madrid,

captain ainsworth, is here today.

And this is assistant naval attache,
also from Madrid,

lieutenant commander Gomez-beare.

Captain. Commander.

Good to know we can still
reel you gentlemen in

from our far-flung outposts.

Montagu and cholmondeley
will run the briefing today.

The operation is theirs,

and, being theirs,
is now theirs to fuck up.

Quite a vote of confidence.

Montagu: Our story begins
in the Spanish fishing port of huelva,

on the Gulf of cadiz,
where major William Martin,

a British officer
bearing classified letters,

will wash up on shore after his plane
has been tragically lost.

The officer is not an officer.
The papers are false.

The plane crash will not have occurred.

Instead, we will release
our man from a submarine,

in order to exploit the Nazi spy trail

which begins in huelva,
Don Gomez-beare's territory,

and then moves to Madrid,
captain ainsworth's turf,

and ends in the heart
of German intelligence,

the abwehr, in Berlin.

We will need to move
these fake documents quickly,

with the help
of two key German operatives,

Karl kuhlenthal in Madrid

and his right-hand man
in huelva, Adolf clauss.

Clauss is an exceptional spy,

and if a body washes up
in huelva with papers,

Adolf clauss will get
his hands on those papers.

Clauss reports to Karl kuhlenthal,

in Madrid, where kuhlenthal is seen
as a golden boy by the abwehr.

But mi5 have found kuhlenthal
to be a one-man espionage disaster,

gullible, incompetent,
and he happens to be one quarter Jewish,

where, under Hitler's regime,
even a drop of Jewish blood means death.

(Speaking German)

Montagu:
Although, luckily for kuhlenthal,

he was recently cleared
as a "good German,"

and he is now desperate
to impress his superiors

before Berlin remembers
that he is Jewish after all.

So we need clauss because he is
a good spy and will get the papers,

kuhlenthal because he is a bad one
and will believe them.

Together, they ensure the best chance
that our documents will land in Berlin.

Where success depends
on another key figure,

Hitler's favoured adviser,
colonel Alexis Von roenne.

Von roenne controls
military intelligence

at Nazi high command,

and Hitler will not believe anything
without Von roenne's blessing,

which is a challenge for us
because Von roenne is brilliant.

A real spy's spy.

Although, there have been rumours...

And at this point, only rumours.

That Von roenne
has turned against the fl'ihrer,

and that he and a group
of anti-Nazi plotters

are trying to destroy
the Nazi war machine from within.

We've heard rumblings
of this anti-Hitler faction before.

We judge it to be a ruse
to infiltrate our inner circle.

So we will proceed as planned.

The prime minister
wants all resources employed

to make mincemeat so convincing

that Von roenne believes it,
Hitler believes it

and even we believe
we are landing in Greece.

To that end, we are preparing

the fake documents
for the briefcase now...

(Typewriter clacking)

The key one being
an off-the-record letter

between generals nye and Alexander,

and in that letter,
the lie about Greece is planted.

Montagu: Of course we'll get
our letter approved tomorrow.

But you simply must sit on q-branch

to deliver our canister.

And then on to the submarine.

Dear god, what about
the bloody submarine?

How are you getting on with eisenhower?

Cut and dried.
The letter must have a natural tone.

"Hope all is well.
The general sends his best."

Hmm. Can't have them
cackling like two hens.

Archie nye and Harold Alexander
are old friends.

I've had letters from the bank manager
with more zing.

It's a first draft.

We can't allow personal flourishes

to distract
from the military misinformation

we need Hitler to swallow.

No. Unless we want
to bore him to death first.

And now, hester has asked me
if she can write the love letter

we're putting in major Martin's pocket.

She should write it and then submit it
to your withering gaze.

(Indistinct chatter)

Do you know where Jean stands
with sergeant dearborn?

- The American?
- Yeah.

I think she's moved on.

Did she tell you that?

You do see Jean outside of work,
don't you?

We will occasionally work over dinner

to iron out bill and Pam details

for verisimilitude's sake.

Verisimilitude.

For instance, tonight,
we are placing the ticket stubs,

as agreed, next to the receipt
for Pam's ring

in the major's breast pocket.

Trouser pocket.

His breast pocket is where
he keeps her photograph.

Sorry, we're late.
It's bedlam out there.

It's true. We're all like moles now,
scurrying around in the dark.

"When one blind man ieadeth another,
they both fall in a ditch."

(Big band jazz music playing)

(Laughter)

(Typewriter clacking)

You out again tonight?

My reputation as a slouch
must be upheld, even in war.

And you, busy writing away.
Writing what?

Supply requisitions mostly.

Uh-huh.

"Do you take the same size hat
or a larger size like monty's?"

Montagu: Good, isn't it?

Spartan general, big head, bigger ego.

It's a joke.

Godfrey: This is hardly
the place forjokes.

Everyone feels it could do
with alterations and improvements.

Everyone?

Godfrey: The twenty committee,
chiefs of staff,

naval intelligence, q-branch,

mi5, MI6.

Fraser-Smith: To retard decomposition,
the body must be tightly sealed.

The canister's double skin
will be made from 22-Gauge steel,

then insulated with
asbestos wool and dry ice.

Heat and oxygen.
A corpse's deadly enemies.

And the watch? What does it do?

Buzz saw.

Buzz saw? Is that code for...

For buzz saw.

The bezel's edges are filed
into razor-sharp teeth.

(Saw buzzing)

Man: (Singing)
We'll all be lit up as the strand was

only more, much more

and before the party's played out

they will fetch the fire brigade out

to the littest-uppist scene
you ever saw!

Cholmondeley: So what
I'm asking, lieutenant jewell,

is whether or not your submarine
can accommodate a six-foot thermos.

Technically, I suppose.

But my crew on the seraph
are a sharp lot.

What would I tell them?

Tell them it contains top secret
meteorological reporting apparatus.

Sounds like the stuff of fiction.

You're not a writer as well, are you?

We're surrounded by them, you know.

- Germans?
- Writers.

(|_ighter clicks)

Godfrey: "Please ask your adc
to send me some oranges if possible."

General nye can't be made
to sound like a scrounger.

Even to the Germans.
Especially to the Germans.

Montagu: But he does need
to sound like a human,

which is what I have
rather artfully achieved.

Millions of lives are at stake.

The letter will be revised
until everyone is satisfied.

(Typewriter clacking)

- Draft...
- Foudeen.

With the day still young.

We're out of time.

Jewell can hold the submarine
for the next fortnight only.

And the seraph is in Scotland,
docked at the holy loch.

Not Siberia?

(Typewriter clacking)

You know the irony
of this preposterous stalemate

is that if Archie nye were
composing this letter himself,

he'd write it any damn way...

He pleased.

It's dull as ditch water.

Cholmondeley: General nye
is dull as ditch water,

which is why a charmless

and utterly boring letter is perfect.

And the general was only too happy
to put pen to paper once I asked.

And far be it from me to point out,

but his version is a near carbon copy
of my very first draft.

There is a chain of command,
and for you to go directly to nye...

Whatever punishment you deem fit, sir,
I will fully accept.

Although, general nye did ask why
we hadn't come to him straightaway.

Admiral, major Martin is overripe

and must be launched on April the 30th,

the next waning moon,
only two weeks away

and the only window where
we have access to the seraph.

Montagu: And in keeping
with the chain of command,

it is you alone who can
Grant us approval to proceed.

(All exclaim and laugh)

To the most satisfying moment...

Hear, hear!

Of the last two months.

All: Cheers.
Cholmondeley: Cheers. To us.

And Pam's letter, hester, how many
revisions has that gone through?

Oh, many, but I think I finished
a passable version today.

Montagu: Well, then, we must hear it.

Ladies and gentlemen,
we have a love letter.

It's your moment to shine, hester.
A dry run before Fritz has a look.

Oh, I'm not one for the spotlight.

Oh, what spotlight, he's? It's just us.

- No, no, I can't.
- Cholmondeley: Yes, you can.

- You can. Please.
- Jean: Please. Please.

Well, if you're all so keen...

Jean: Yes, we are.
Cholmondeley: We are.

You read it.

(Chuckles)

(Cholmondeley clears throat)

(Mouthing)

(Jean clears throat)

"The manor house, marlborough,
wiltshire, Sunday 18th.

"My dearest bill,

"I think seeing one's beloved
off at the railway

"is the poorest form of sport.

"A train going out can leave
a howling gap in one's days

"and one has to try madly
and quite in vain

"to fill it with the things
one used to enjoy."

(Pensive music playing)

"Why did we have to meet
in the middle of a war?

"For if it weren't for this madness,
we might be married by now,

"and I wouldn't be in this dreary office
typing minutes all day.

"That last lovely golden day
we spent together,

"I never wanted it to end.

"And I know it has been said before,

"but I do wish
that time could stand still,

"even for just a minute.

"So don't let them
send you off into the blue

"the horrible way they do these days.

"Now that we've found each other
out of the whole world,

"I don't think I could bear it.

"All my love.

"Pam.

Wait.

You have an eyelash.

I'll see you tomorrow.

(Door opens)

For you. From upstairs.

Godfrey: So you agree, then?
Ivor montagu is spying for the Russians?

Cholmondeley:
His file seemed to indicate that he is.

Godfrey: He's not yet revealed
mincemeat to the Soviets.

We would have picked it up
at bletchley if he had.

But that's not to say that he won't.

Cholmondeley:
There is nothing to suggest

that ewen discusses anything
with his brother.

And nothing to prove that he doesn't.

Now, we could send ewen to america
to be with his wife and children.

Might make it easier
to keep an eye on his brother.

You'd get the credit for mincemeat,
should it succeed.

It was your idea, after all.

Or we could keep him here.

You are asking me

to spy on a man I work beside every day.

I'm asking you to assess the danger
to your country.

You also have a brother, don't you?

Had a brother. Fallen in chittagong.

Hmm.

And your mother's desperate
to have his body brought home.

I've knocked on many doors,
but so far, nothing.

Until now.

(Camera flash popping)

Fold the letter,
but each fold only once.

Then we'll photograph the folds.

If the letter is returned,
the wear to the fibres will show

whether or not it's been opened.

Then the eyelash idea,
which is a good one.

What eyelash idea?

We place an eyelash in the fold.

If the lash is gone upon return,

it's another sign
the letter's been read.

The bigger worry is ensuring
that the letter arrives in Berlin.

(Camera flash popping)

If it lands with the Spanish Navy,

there's a good chance
they could return it to us,

unopened and unread.

That's if the letter
arrives in Spain at all.

It's a big sea.

Many detours await one little briefcase.

Pam's letter.

New love, so handled, worn.

And the photograph.

And the briefcase.

Let's slide him in and seal him up.

(Playing gentle music)

He doesn't look like a driver for mi5.

Looks like errol Flynn.

What drink is he on? His fifth?

Hester: Sixth, I think.

Last round, Teddy.
And then we really must cut him off.

Hester: It'll be an interesting drive
to Scotland.

You should give jock horsfall a wink.

He may be pickled, but he's also single.

Except you're seeing Roger.

No, I haven't seen much of Roger.

Not now we're so busy.

We were just friends.

Oh, well, his loss.

See you tomorrow.

So, jock, how many times
have you made the trip to holy loch?

Oh, I can do it with my eyes closed.

Sometimes have to if my astigmatism's
playing up. (Chuckles)

But dead of night's
a jolly time to drive.

And you'll have my Van. Customised v8.

She can run
upwards of 125 miles per hour.

I was there, you know,

when you thrashed those
six bmws at donington park.

Horsfall: That was my black car.

Mi5 make me garage her
now that I'm an official chauffeur.

Say she's a menace on the road.

But I do miss her.

(Choking up)

I'll give you a moment.

(Sniffles)

So, this tin can of yours. What's in it?

Hmm? Oh, optical equipment.

Bollocks.

You know how high my clearance goes?

It's a dead body.

We're going to play
a humiliating trick on Hitler.

(Laughing)

- Is he even capable of driving now?
- I fear we're about to find out.

Anyway, erm,
since it's major Martin's last night...

(Romantic jazz music playing)

(Horsfall humming along to music)

It seems strange, doesn't it,
sending our dear major off to die?

You do know he's already dead?
(Chuckles)

In a way, yes,
but in another, he's very much alive,

our clever, dashing man.

Which is why I'd like
to thank you, Charles.

It's been a grand adventure.

For the two of you.

For all of us.

We gave bill a life

one glyndwr Michael never had.

We gave him Pam.

I wanted Pam.

I only mean...

That our imaginings
often surpass what is real, don't they?

I come home every night
to a bereft mother,

pining for her favoured son.

Hester lives a spinster's life,

working round the clock
rather than face an empty bed.

Ewen's real life is off in america,

where he must worry about the safety

of his wife and children
until they return.

Or did he not mention that to you?

He said something about america.

(Chuckling)
It's all a game to him, you know.

You do know that?

All the dinners and dancing...

Not that I blame him.

Who wouldn't want the attentions
of a beautiful woman? But, erm...

There's even talk of ewen joining Iris
and the children in america.

Families should be together
during wartime.

Don't you think?

I think I stepped on your toe.

Oh. Well, at least
it wasn't me for once.

I've got such a busy day tomorrow.

I really must go.

- Jean. Jean, you're not leaving?
- I am, obviously.

But why? Jean, what has happened?

I have been overcome with embarrassment
at my own stupidity.

This game we've been playing,

bill and Pam, the young lovers,
as if you and I were...

As if this weren't a real war.

Do you not realise
people are talking about us?

Is this about gossip?

What does it matter what people say?

We both know
there's nothing going on here.

I don't... I don't mean
"nothing" as in...

I left behind childish games
many years ago, ewen.

The day I buried the man I loved.

And while my life
may not look like much to you,

I have made my way, alone,

with the occasional admirer
to pass the time.

It's certainly easier, and safer, so...

You'll be late for your drive,

and I'm going home.

No dallying, ladies.

We've a clock to beat,

and we'll have to feel our way along,
thanks to the blackout.

I saw you talking to Jean tonight.

What were you saying?

I was apologising for my dancing.

It's easier to accept death
when you can't see it coming.

- (Vehicle door closes)
- (Engine starts)

(Tyres screeching)

(Car horn beeps)

Horsfall: You stupid eejit!

It's curious.

About your brother.

My brother?

You never speak of him.
He does live with you, doesn't he?

He travels mostly.

Although I'm not sure why
that's any of your business.

Or why you would say something
to upset Jean tonight.

Godfrey thinks ivor's a communist.

- You've spoken to Godfrey about ivor?
- Godfrey brought him up.

Well, Godfrey despises eccentrics.

Aren't all spies eccentrics?

Ivor is a dilettante,
an inveterate ne'er-do-well

who founded the cheese eaters' league
in Cambridge

and the international
table tennis federation in London.

And his trips to Moscow?

My brotherjoined the British
socialist party for five minutes.

About as long as his interest
in anything lasts.

(Typewriter clacking)

Jewell: Down here.

Excellent timing.

Well ahead of schedule.

But, then, I'd expect nothing less
from his majesty's finest.

Finest what?

I think my testicles dislodged
somewhere near dumfries.

(Horsfall laughs)

Jewell: And good news, lieutenant.

I was able to honour your request.

Much appreciated.
I know it was last minute. Thank you.

What request?

Jewell was good enough
to find me a bunk on the seraph.

What do you mean, on the seraph?

Someone should accompany major Martin
to his final resting place.

- That would be Spain.
- Yes, where the seraph is headed.

Are you out of your mind?

We didn't get clearance
to go to Spain with him.

We didn't even discuss it.

Don't you think that one of us
should show some respect

for a man who gave his life,

and who now serves us
and his country so nobly?

If unwittingly.

Don't you think at least one of us
ought to do the right thing?

We're going straight through
back to London. Now.

- I'm driving.
- (Horsfall exclaims)

(Indistinct ringing)

Do you know what time it is?

I just need a moment.

There's an apology I must make to you.

And then I promise I'll go.

I wasn't being honest with you,
or even myself,

when I said there's nothing between us.

In fact, the very opposite is true.

My life is complicated.

It's not an excuse
or a defence or anything, really.

Only to say...

That my feelings for you are real.

I should have realised that
a long time ago.

Perhaps I might have spared you
the embarrassment of last night.

- Because if I in any way...
- You didn't.

I know you have a wife and family.

I do.

And you and I, we have a war to win.

Major Martin is in dangerous waters now.

He'll need us more than ever.

I hope you're able to sleep.

(Soft music playing)

(Crying)

(Door closes)

(Sighs)

Jewell: I left my Bible below decks.

"In the twinkling of an eye,

"at the last call:

"For the trumpet shall sound,

"and the dead
shall be raised incorruptible,

"and we shall all be changed."

Have we heard anything?

Not yet.

Jean: I thought I might take a moment.

Say a prayer to st Jude.

Shall we pray for major Martin?

For major Martin.

For the success of our mission.

For those we love.

(Soft dramatic music playing)

(Waves crashing)

- Paco.
- (Indistinct chatter)

Fleming:
And so the hidden war continues.

Lies are whispered anew.

Shadows still flicker.

Even the ground refuses to steady
in this wilderness of illusions.

A man dies.

Another begins his journey...

And waits for his story to be told.

But in the conventional war,
the wheels of combat turn,

the forces of men and machine swell,

until suddenly the die is cast.

There is no turning back.

Us, Canadian and British forces
will strike 26 beaches

over 100 miles
of sicily's southern shore.

We'll be mobilising 100,000 plus men,
3,000 freighters and sweepers

with 1,800 heavy guns, 4,000 aircraft...

Patricia: Commander, if I may.

Does the build-up continue
despite our intelligence?

Intelligence that shows the Germans
continue to reinforce sicily?

The prime minister still hopes
to turn the tide

and convince Germany
that our target is Greece.

He is now relying almost entirely on us.

So we have work to do.

(Indistinct chatter)

Woman: Morning, Charles.
Cholmondeley: Morning.

Charles. You don't look
any the worse for wear.

I should. There's a reason tall men
don't serve on small submarines.

Hitler's still reinforcing sicily.

That can only mean the other pieces

- of our deception plan...
- Have missed the Mark.

But major Martin has washed ashore.

Gomez-beare has been
called by the Spanish police.

Our plan proceeds.

The fate of the free world
dependent on a corpse in a donkey cart.

(Officers speaking Spanish)

(All conversing in Spanish)

(Suspenseful music playing)

Cholmondeley: The critical task now
is to make the Germans think

we are frantic to reclaim the papers,

while guiding the papers
right into their hands.

(All conversing in Spanish)

Officer: Si.

Cholmondeley: On the ground,
our assistant naval attache,

Don Gomez-beare, is with the body now
and will make sure the documents

get to the German police.

Also known as the Spanish police.

(Conversing in Spanish)

(Gomez-beare scoffs)

Montagu: Once the autopsy is complete...

- (Gomez-beare groans)
- We will work our end

through David ainsworth
at the British embassy in Madrid.

British admiralty on the phone, sir.

The Germans
have bugged the phones there,

so any message we pass to the embassy

is essentially a message to Berlin.

Oh, they asked that you use
the unsecured line.

Ainsworth.

Montagu: Captain,
is your line there secure?

Of course.

Cholmondeley: Good, because
we've just received news

that one of our own
may have washed up in huelva.

Montagu: (Over phone)
Carrying top secret documents

general nye's camp
is very anxious to recover.

I'll begin inquiries right away.

Cholmondeley: (Over phone)
But, of course,

the fact that we 're looking for papers
at all must remain classified.

Understood.

(Dramatic music playing)

(Intestines squelching)

- (Gomez-beare groaning)
- (Officer retching)

(Speaking Spanish)

(Officer gagging)

Burial is set for 0800 hours tomorrow?

Gomez-beare: (In English) Only because

the expert pathologist from Madrid

nixed the autopsy, thank Christ,
not a moment too soon.

The bad news is
the Spanish Navy in huelva

has the case under lock and key.

Cholmondeley: Then our only hope

is helping Adolf clauss
get his hands on it.

Before the case makes its way
to admiral moreno's office in Madrid.

The dung beetle
will surface soon enough.

Montagu: (On phone) No,
we need him to surface sooner.

We'll jolt him with an unencrypted
cable sent to your office tonight.

"Make casual request to Spanish Navy

"to return case and papers. Stop."

"Do not alert German interests

"to the necessity
of securing these documents

"back into British hands. Stop."

Unless you expect a thank you
from herr clauss,

I think our work here tonight is done.

I just saw the name. Montagu.

Ewen's wife, Iris.

She and I correspond.

We've known each other
for years, of course.

(Footsteps receding)

(Sentimental music plays)

Roger: Jean.

Jean.

Goodness. Roger.

I am so sorry. I've been meaning to...

No, no, it's okay.

I'm just disappointed,

since it feels like I barely
got to say hello to you

and now I have to say goodbye.

The boys and I
are shipping out in the morning.

In the morning? Where?

I'm not at Liberty to say,
but, er, well,

I don't know when we'll
see each other again, so...

Wherever it is, Roger,
I do hope you'll be safe.

- May I write to you?
- Of course.

Please, write.

(Roger sighs)

(Kisses)

Good bye.

(Soft music playing)

(Priest reciting in Spanish)

(Gomez-beare speaking Spanish)

Gomez-beare: (In English) Adolf.

What a pleasant surprise.

Quite the turnout for our man.

Ainsworth: So Adolf clauss
turned out to be two steps behind.

Because the briefcase
has landed in Madrid.

Dear god.

Ainsworth: Which means it will be
in admiral moreno's office shortly.

Then let's hope that kuhlenthal
can't be far behind.

And since we've bugged every office
in naval headquarters...

Not every office. Not moreno's.

(Both conversing in Spanish)

Montagu: We need to know
what moreno's up to,

David, so you'll have to improvise.

Time to look up old friends?

(Speaking Spanish)

(Suspenseful music playing)

(Woman giggles)

(Moreno speaking Spanish in distance)

(Woman moaning)

Ainsworth: (In English)
I heard the whole conversation.

Moreno denied having the papers

while kuhlenthal insisted
he did have the papers.

Did kuhlenthal get hold of the case?

Unfortunately not.

(Over phone) Moreno
wasn't open for business.

Dear god.

It's hard to see who's more up a tree
with this, us or the Germans.

I would say kuhlenthal is
desperate enough for us all.

(Kuhlenthal shouting in German)

The bug in his office caught him
eviscerating clauss

for not snatching the papers in huelva.

- (Glass shatters over comms)
- Montagu: So he should.

And the Spanish Navy can't
seem to stop reminding us

how neutral they are.

They won't let the Germans
anywhere near our briefcase.

Colonel cerruti
could get hold of the papers.

Cerruti? Spain's secret police
are beyond treacherous.

Cholmondeley:
They are, but he's a keen fascist.

He's devoted to Hitler.
And we have no other choice.

We have to get the papers to kuhlenthal.

Ainsworth: Colonel cerruti ran me
as a double agent years ago,

without ever realising I was
a triple agent for our side,

but I've steered clear of the colonel
for some time now.

Montagu: He's gone dry?

Ainsworth: He requires...

Careful handling.

(Speaking Spanish)

We sympathise, David,
but Churchill has put his money on us.

We cannot tell the prime minister
that we've hit a dead end now.

(Speaking Spanish)

(Cerruti speaking)

(Cerruti moaning)

(Indistinct conversation)

I need some air.

Montagu: There's no mention
of cerruti or kuhlenthal

in any of these transcripts.

We don't know if cerruti met with moreno

or if he even took the case
or if he read the letter.

We are utterly in the dark.

Is that what Charles
and m were discussing?

Charles and Godfrey? When?

Yesterday. I saw them
outside talking alone.

And you're telling me this now?

I wasn't aware I was supposed
to tell you, or anyone.

Hester: He can be like this
when he's under pressure.

You mustn't take it personally.

The waiting's driving us all mad.

Why does ewen's wife write to you

and not to him?

Every marriage has its difficulties
and disappointments.

Haven't we all had our hearts
broken over the years?

What's hard to understand about ewen,

hidden beneath all the bluster

is his very deep sense of duty.

I only say this
because I'm so very fond of you.

And him.

And her.

(Machine whirring and clacking rapidly)

Montagu: Moreno's on his way
to the embassy.

And kuhlenthal has just left for Berlin.

(Moreno speaking Spanish)

(Suspenseful music playing)

Fraser-Smith: So, the moment of truth.

(Camera shutter clicking)

The seal hasn't been touched.

Meaning the letter hasn't been read.

Let's not hang ourselves just yet.

One can, with great delicacy,

remove a letter without
fully opening the envelope.

If the gum has been dissolved
in solvent.

- Or seawater.
- Yes, yes, seawater.

Fraser-Smith: It is possible

to insert here,
grab the edge of the letter

and then ever so gently twist.

So it is possible
they removed the letter?

Twisting like this
causes the pages to curl,

but once back in the envelope,
of course, the letter will lie flat.

So how is a curl we cannot see helpful?

Erm... it isn't. It isn't.

Unless we wet the paper again,
dry it and see what happens.

It looks as if the eyelash has gone.

We are not sending 100,000 men
into battle on a missing eyelash.

(Suspenseful music continues)

Cholmondeley: So it has been opened.

This letter has been removed
from the envelope

and it has been opened.

Which means it's been read.

(Jean gasps)

Teddy.

What on earth... why...

Why am I not at the club?
I don't work there any more.

Strange, isn't it,

to find an old photograph of you
amongst major Martin's papers?

I don't recall seeing him
at the gargoyle, Jean.

Or do I call you Pam?

"Dearest bill.

"Why did we have to meet
in the middle of a war?

"Or if it weren't for this madness,
we might have been married by now."

I don't understand what you're doing.

There are Germans, good Germans,

in positions of great influence,

that are allied in their desire
to see the fl'ihrer fall.

But these men have been
rebuffed by your superiors,

labelled the anti-Hitler hoax,
which is a shame,

since we both are on the same side.

My German friends need to understand
what's happened here.

So you will tell me about major Martin
and the letters in his case

or I will pull out my gun
and put a bullet in your head.

- (Dramatic music playing)
- (Machine whirring)

We've just got this,
the latest intercept,

sent by general jodl,
Nazi chief of operations.

It says, and I quote,

"enemy landings on a large scale

"are expected in Greece
in the very near future."

"In Greece". It came through
at the highest level of encryption.

Do we believe this?

(Phone ringing)

General jodl. We couldn't ask
for a more credible source.

Montagu: And if the Nazis were
moving troops from sicily to Greece,

it would be jodl that's moving them.

(Phone ringing incessantly)

Fraser-Smith: Q-branch.

Yes, yes, he is.

Yes, I'll tell him right away.

Cholmondeley: The man
served us drinks every night,

ewen, it was your club.

Montagu: You don't think I vetted

every single employee
in and out of the gargoyle?

You don't think I'm aware
always of everyone around me

who might be listening?

Well, you know, we can't ask
Teddy what happened

because his flat's been searched
and he's vanished.

Montagu: Every Nazi operative
within our borders

has either been turned
or eliminated long ago.

We monitor everyone who might
remotely constitute a fifth column.

We have eyes on every blackshirt...

(Shouts) Well, then,
who is this man? Who is he?

Jean, are you sure that
he didn't give you a name?

He didn't indicate
who might have sent him?

Just... just the Germans
fighting against Hitler.

- I assumed it was a lie.
- It most likely was a lie.

Well, he was trying to get you to talk.
He would have said anything.

But I did talk.

I said, "yes,
I worked at the admiralty."

And the officer that died,
he was using an alias,

travelling with a fake dossier,
he was a spy,

but that he was also transporting
real classified material,

real letters.

It was ridiculous, but what could I say?
He had the photograph.

- I gave you that photograph.
- Jean, this is not your fault.

Jean: They know the photograph
isn't real.

They'll suspect everything now.

We don't even know who "they" are.

You're not safe here.

I have a guest room.

You can stay there
until we all sort this out.

(Breathing heavily)

You would bring her to your own house?

Have you no shame?

After you've jeopardised
this entire operation?

You're the one who approached Jean.

You're the one who insisted
on using her photograph.

You were so busy seducing her

that you took your
eye off your own brother.

You think I told ivor about mincemeat?

How do we know he's not behind all this?

I tell my brother nothing.
I show him nothing!

Because you know he's a spy,
in bed with the Russians.

Don't you tell me what I know
and don't know.

You don't think I imagine myself
at his funeral every day,

my own brother,
tried and hanged for treason?

How fucking dare you!

I am not the one who is
running a covert operation

with a spy under my roof.

No, your brother's a war hero.

And I envy you that.

Whatever went wrong, it wasn't ivor.

You are a careless bastard, montagu.

You're careless with Jean,

you're careless with your brother,
and you're careless with your own wife.

I don't need you
to remind me of my sins.

I only wonder how you reconcile yourself
with yours.

Did you strike some sort of deal?

Spying on me?

My hide in exchange for...

What?

I need to look after Jean.

Everything depends on finding out
who sent that man and why.

Cholmondeley: What if it was Von roenne?

More than anyone else
in German intelligence,

Von roenne would need to know
if mincemeat is true.

So he could decide

if what he's whispering in Hitler's ear
is fact or fiction.

Because Von roenne may be the one
who is fighting the other war.

The secret war.

The war dedicated
to seeing Hitler destroyed.

Either that's true or it's a fiction
that we want to be true.

What's fact is that you know
I suspected my brother of spying

and refused to turn him in.

So you know enough to see me ruined
and my brother hanged.

So the next move is yours, Charles.

What's it to be?

(Door closes)

What we know for certain...

Is that within our borders
our eyes and ears miss nothing.

German spies, Nazi sympathisers,

we know where they are,
we know who they are.

Which means that whoever this man is,

it's not something
we've encountered before.

That's your excuse

for using a photograph
of one of our own operatives?

The photograph was my error, sir.

I was the one who insisted
on choosing someone within our ranks.

Godfrey: The woman's beside the point.

I wish I could find
even a silver of satisfaction

in having predicted this
fucking disaster months ago.

We're still receiving intelligence

the Germans are preparing
for our invasion of Greece.

Cholmondeley:
Intelligence that could be a ruse.

It's obviously a ruse,
given the operation's been revealed.

Cholmondeley:
Although, not necessarily, sir.

Montagu and I
have been racking our brains,

trying to decode the message
behind this contact with us.

Why did this man reveal himself?

If he's an agent for the abwehr,

why would he deliberately signal
that he'd discovered our deception?

It doesn't add up,

which is why the troop movements
to Greece may not be a ruse after all.

Why would the Nazis continue to act
on information they know to be false?

Because Von roenne
is telling them to act on it.

There's not a shred of proof
of this so-called anti-Hitler plot.

We don't know that it isn't true either.

Christ.

Admiral, this man came out of nowhere.

Perhaps he's the proof
of the anti-Hitler plot.

And he contacted us
so that we would know the plot is real,

and as German troops
continue to move towards Greece,

we would continue to plan for sicily.

So that Von roenne can reinforce
that misinformation with Hitler,

leaving sicily undefended.

That is our instinct.

That is your instinct?

The fate of the world at stake,

the Nazi killing machine
waiting for us on sicily's shores,

and... (Breathes deeply)
You two with your instinct.

If it were up to me,

I would postpone sicily
and have you drawn and quartered.

No doubt the prime minister
has been informed?

What does he want to do?

The prime minister...

Does not want to postpone sicily.

I pray we can all live
with the consequences.

Jean?

(Keys clatter)

Jean?

(Door closes)

Hilda: He's coming home.

Robbie's coming home.

Thank you, my son.

(Dramatic music playing)

Montagu: And this is a posting, where?

- They haven't told me yet.
- They?

Special operations.
I was accepted today.

I suspect because masterman
put it in a good word for me.

Hopefully, I'll find my way overseas
as a courier or a radio operator.

I see.

I can never forgive myself
for placing our operation in peril.

I won't hear it.
What happened is not your fault.

Regardless, it'll take the grace of god
and nerves of steel

to land mincemeat safely now.

The kind of fortitude
you have demonstrated every single day.

I've played my part
in the bill and Pam story, ewen.

It's time for me to go where I'm needed.

You're needed here.

- With us.
- I have to go.

(Breathes deeply)

(Soft music playing)

You will have your own story, then.

You will fight your own war.

You will serve bravely.

Our country will be lucky to have you.

And I...

You'll be reunited
with your wife and children.

A better man.

A man you brought back to life.

I will miss you so terribly.

(Jean crying)

Jewell: The invasion fleet
is now assembled.

The seraph will be the lead vessel

in the first wave
of the us assault on licata beach.

Our job will be to set
the sonar homing buoy,

to guide the others to shore.

Cholmondeley: A great many others,
we hear, on many beaches.

The largest amphibious assault
the war has seen.

Do you believe we have Fritz
where we need him?

It seems the enemy has fallen
for the deception.

Montagu: We expect
resistance to be limited

to Italian coastal divisions.

Then our fighting men thank you.

I will see you on the other side.

(Door opens)

(Door closes)

I may vomit.

I may vomit with you.

Every, er, piece of intelligence says

that the Nazis
are waiting for us in Greece.

And every piece of intelligence
may be the greatest deception

the Nazis have ever played against us.

Why do you think Churchill
still believes this can work?

Because he has to.

Jean has gone.

Yes, I heard.

You've had another letter from Iris.

This one's for you.

(Soft music playing)

Fleming: It is only fitting
that the two wars

finally converge in darkness.

(Suspenseful music playing)

The target is no longer hidden.

(Horn blaring)

The points are set.

And the forces gather.

Brave men, their lives
hanging in the balance,

their fate unknowable,

their part in history unwritten.

- (Alarm blaring)
- Action stations!

Action stations!

Move yourselves! Move, move, move!

Fleming: But who in these last hours
will bear witness to the hidden war?

(Typewriter clacking)

Unseen by history.

Locked away in a buried file.

Its tragedies and triumphs unspoken.

Its heroes unsung.

Montagu: In god's name, Fleming,
what are you writing?

Spy story.

(Explosions)

(Shouts indistinctly)

Fleming: It is in this moment,

this suspended moment,

that my story waits for an ending.

(Dramatic music playing)

- (Explosion)
- (Water splashing)

As if fate herself...

Were a blank page.

(Dramatic music intensifies)

(Soldiers yelling)

(Explosions)

(Bullets whizzing)

(Gunfire)

Medic!

(Gunshot)

(Gunfire continues)

Fleming: An ending
redeemed in righteousness?

An ending graced with mercy?

(Imperceptible)

(Machine whirring)

(Clacking)

"Allied forces have landed."

Montagu: "Limited casualties."

"Enemy retreating."

"Troops met with minimal resistance."

(Soft music playing)

"Beaches held."

(Soldiers shouting indistinctly)

(Aeroplane passing)

Cholmondeley: There's another one,
from Churchill.

(Machine stops)

(Tears paper)

"Mincemeat swallowed...

"Rod, line and sinker."

(Triumphant music playing)

Fleming: An ending...

Filled with light.

(Soft music playing)

We saved some lives today.

Some lives, not all.

It can never be all.

We don't seem to have saved ourselves.

And those that did make it...

- Glory will be theirs.
- As it should be.

We fooled the fl'ihrer, murderous bastard.
There's some glory in that.

My brother has come home.

We'll Bury him tomorrow.

It was the deal
I'd struck with Godfrey...

In exchange for spying on you.

Then I'd like to be there.

I need to go home
and finish a letter to my wife.

But first I need a drink.

Let me buy you a drink.

Eight in the morning.

Surely someone will take us in.

(Montagu clears throat)

(Soft piano music playing)

(Sweeping orchestral music playing)

(Slow dramatic music playing)

(Dramatic music intensifies)

(Dramatic orchestral music playing)

(Sombre music playing)