Original subtitles

* In life, in death, O Lord

* Abide with me

* Amen.

First Epistle to the Corinthians, Chapter 15.

"Behold, I show you a mystery.

We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed."

"We shall not all sleep, but we shall all be changed."

But I shall not be changed.

Not chosen.

Not one of His elect.

Dear God, make me as one of Thy hired servants.

I'm pleased to be of use, like Edwina was.

Not rejected, but strong in Christ.

Edwina.

Edwina!

Why did you do it?

Such a fearful thing.

To burn yourself.

Alone, in hell.

Like the devil!

Oh, Gillian.

Gillian Waller.

Gillian Waller.

She says Uncle Arthur enjoys his new job

and they both like Calcutta.

Aunt Fenny.

And she says she's very sorry and should she come.

You'll have to write again.

Yes.

That's the last thing I want.

Oh.

It's for Susan.

I think this must be it.

It's got a field post office stamp.

Yes, it must be.

It's come, hasn't it?

We think so.

Here you are, darling.

You'll want to take it away.

All right, Panther.

Just once more.

Go on, fetch!

She's gone to her room.

This is from Count Bronowsky.

Isn't that kind?

Put him on B list, Sarah.

We'll give her half an hour.

Then you must go and see.

(knocking on door)

Mother's washing her hair and I thought I'd do mine.

You don't want the bathroom for ten minutes, do you?

Was it a letter about Teddie?

Do you want to read it?

May I?

Part of it's about Captain Merrick.

Captain Merrick?

I can't quite remember.

Read it again?

"Your husband died as a result of wounds

"having gone forward under orders.

"With him at the time was Captain Merrick,

"who although himself wounded and at risk to his life,

"rendered the utmost assistance to your husband

"and stayed with him until the arrival of medical aid.

"Captain Merrick has now been evacuated to a base hospital

"and will shortly be transferred to Calcutta for further surgery.

"It may be of some relief to you to know

that he reported that your husband suffered no pain."

I've never noticed it before, but there seems

to be only one picture of him.

Of Teddie?

No, of Captain Merrick in the wedding album.

That's him, isn't it?

It's only half a face.

Yes, that's Ronald Merrick.

Are you sure it's the only one?

Perhaps he didn't want his picture taken.

Oh, everyone likes their picture taken.

He may have thought of it being in the newspapers.

People recognizing him as the policeman in the Manners case.

Teddie was terribly upset about that.

I don't think he ever forgave him.

But I must, mustn't I?

I'll have to write him a letter.

It would be a kind thing to do.

I'm not kind.

I don't know kind.

I don't know anything.

I'm relying on you to say what's right and wrong.

Shall we have a word with Mother about it?

I'd rather not.

Mother didn't like Teddie.

I knew.

She didn't really want me to marry anyone

until Daddy comes back.

She didn't talk to me, you know.

Talk to you?

About getting married.

She made Aunt Fenny do it.

I don't think that was right, do you?

Was there anything you didn't know?

It isn't that.

I didn't think about it much.

All that was on the other side.

The other side of what?

What I am now.

I seem to have lost the knack of hiding what I really feel.

I'm out in the open.

Like when you lift a stone

and there's something underneath running in circles.

Oh, Susan.

Perhaps it's better than before.

I used to feel like a drawing that anyone who wanted to

could come along and rub out.

Oh, nonsense.

Everyone else seemed so sure.

So awfully sure.

And I wasn't.

I thought if I could make a life for myself, a life like theirs,

that no one could come along and rub me out.

Marrying Teddie was part of it.

The best part.

Even though I didn't really love him.

Poor Teddie.

He walked straight into it.

That's why he was so pleased

when I wrote and told him about the baby.

He married a girl with nothing to her,

but having the baby to give to him

could have made me something.

Who do I give it to now?

The baby's yours.

It's for you.

I suppose the truth is, people like us were finished years ago.

We know it but we go on as if we thought we mattered.

Why are we finished, Sarah?

Why don't we matter?

Why "we"?

There's too much about "us" and "we."

We may be finished or not matter or whatever it is,

but you matter.

I matter.

Stop thinking like this.

You're a person, not a crowd.

How self-assured you are.

I'm not self-assured at all.

But I do know this.

You matter.

And your baby matters, too.

Yes, I know.

Everything must be done that can be.

That's something I've been meaning to ask.

Will you ask Auntie Mabel

if she'd lend me the christening clothes?

You could ask her yourself.

No, they were yours.

She will if you ask.

Will you be godmother?

I shouldn't make a very good one.

I don't believe in it.

I know.

But if anything happened to me,

you'd look after the baby, wouldn't you?

Nothing's going to happen to you.

Of course the baby would be looked after.

I think after all, it would be better if you wrote

to Captain Merrick for me.

You could thank him so much more kindly,

make him understand how much the Laytons are beholden to him

for what he tried to do for Teddie.

Whatever it was.

SARAH: Well, if you prefer it.

Perhaps he's lying somewhere in Calcutta feeling it badly,

that he was bad luck for Teddie.

Last time it was only a stone, but this time...

I think I want to know.

To find out all about it, because I owe it to Teddie.

Captain Merrick will know.

Do you think...

Do I think what?

Do you think it would be nice if we asked Captain Merrick

to be godfather?

No, I don't.

Why not?

I don't know.

I just don't think it would be.

Because of people like Aunt Fenny?

Because she says he isn't one of us?

No.

Aunt Fenny's in Cal now.

You could go and see him.

You could see Captain Merrick in hospital and that might help.

It would help him to get better.

He needs something like that.

It said surgery in the letter.

We don't even know how badly wounded he is.

You know Teddie told me that Captain Merrick

never got any letters?

Or almost never.

I think that's why he asked him to be best man.

Teddie was upset about the stone,

but he had a tender heart.

Well, so have you.

No.

I've no heart at all.

I'm not anything.

But will you do that for me, Sarah?

Will you find out where he is and go and see him?

Yes.

I'll do that.

Are you sure it was her?

I only saw her for a moment, Barbie, but I think it was.

I'm told she left her card at Flagstaff House as well

for General Rankin.

So she's on station, I suppose.

And she must have left an address.

It just said, "Lady Ethel Manners, Rawalpindi."

That's strange.

But then it's all so strange.

Keeping that child with its dark skin

and calling it Parvati, too.

Well, as a Christian, I have to say

that child has not been brought to God.

Will you tell Captain Merrick about it

when you see him in hospital?

I might.

That's really why I came.

I'm leaving for Calcutta in the morning.

Was he badly injured?

Well, the letter said something about further surgery,

so we think he might be.

(clucks her tongue)

Such an unfortunate young man.

He was in love with her, of course.

The Manners girl.

You'd like to say goodbye to Mabel?

I think she's indoors.

Who is Gillian Waller?

Gillian Waller?

I don't know.

Why?

I thought she might be a relation.

Mabel keeps mentioning her-- in her sleep, of course.

I go in, you know, to make sure.

She's become so forgetful.

The light, her book.

She goes to sleep with her spectacles on.

Always anxious about an accident--

a breakage, a splinter.

You tuck her up?

She doesn't know.

I like to be sure.

I'm so grateful.

I anticipated a lonely retirement.

Most of us do, in the missions.

"Gillian Waller," under her breath.

I thought I ought to ask someone in case it was troubling her

not being one of the family.

You almost are.

I'm sorry, Barbie, I don't know either.

Come inside.

It's probably of no significance.

(knocking on door)

Mabel, it's Sarah.

She's leaving for Calcutta.

She's come to say goodbye.

Hello, Auntie Mabel.

When are you going, then?

Tomorrow, in the morning.

Where will you stay?

I rang Aunt Fenny.

She can put me up for a couple of nights.

I thought they lived in Delhi.

They moved to Calcutta in January.

Uncle Arthur's got a new job.

He's a colonel now.

I wanted to ask you something, as it happens.

Something rather special.

I wanted to ask you about an old christening gown.

A christening gown?

Yes.

Well, you see...

Oh, can you manage?

Let me help.

It was my mother's.

If you want, Susan can have it.

Well, no, it's for you to say.

Oh!

Oh, it's exquisite!

They're butterflies.

Caught in a web.

Please take it.

I've meant that you should have it one day.

Oh, I am awfully grateful.

So will Sue be.

Things shouldn't be kept if they can't be used.

It's yours anyway.

Says so in my will.

But take it now.

NEWS REPORTER: This is the sort of country in which British

and Indian forces have been fighting the Japanese

in the battle of Imphal.

Imphal itself is the capital of the state of Manipur

on the Burmese border and is one of our bases on this front.

The Jap offensive here

was really more of a defensive attack

by which they hoped to spoil Allied plans

for the recapture of Burma.

Our forces, however, met the enemy thrusts--

and there have been many of them--

for in country like this there's no actual front line.

Most of the first clashes occurred on the roads

where the Japs had tried to establish roadblocks.

Our infantry and tanks, after heavy and difficult fighting,

succeeded in driving back the enemy and reopening the roads.

Miss Layton

for Captain Merrick?

I'm Sister Prior.

Am I upsetting regular visiting hours?

That's all right.

We had a message from your... uncle?

Colonel Grace.

Grace.

He said you'd come a long way to visit us.

I don't quite get the relationship.

You are a relative, aren't you?

No.

Well, I thought it was odd.

I'd always understood Captain Merrick had none,

either at home or out here.

He was the best man at my sister's wedding.

He was wounded at the same time as her husband was killed.

Oh, I'm sorry.

Is your sister in Calcutta too?

No, she's at home in Pankot.

In the hills.

She's expecting a baby.

You have come a long way.

I'm sure he'll be glad to see you

but I hope you won't find it necessary

to ask him too many questions.

We try not to let them dwell on things.

I haven't come to ask questions.

Only to tell him how grateful we are for what he did.

Captain Merrick was very brave.

He's been recommended for a decoration.

A medal?

I suppose that serves some purpose.

I never see what, myself.

I expect that shocks you with an uncle who's a colonel.

My father's a colonel too, and it doesn't.

I'll tell him you're here.

Captain Merrick will see you now.

Miss Layton.

Hello, Ronald.

I've brought you some fruit.

I hope that's all right.

And some cigarettes.

How's Susan?

She's fine.

She sent her love.

Are you in Calcutta for long?

No, I go back the day after tomorrow.

To Pankot?

Do smoke.

There are some in the drawer.

Mother sent her love, of course.

And Aunt Fenny.

She and Uncle Arthur are in Calcutta now.

Can I light one for you?

I'm afraid it involves rather more than that.

I can't hold anything yet.

These are rather damp, I'm afraid.

Thanks.

Your hands smell so much nicer than Sister Prior's.

She's a bit of a dragon.

A very pretty dragon.

It's a good thing you came today.

They've got other plans for me tomorrow.

Surgery?

What time are they doing it?

Nine o'clock.

If I rang about midday

I expect they'd tell me how it went.

Yes, I'm sure they would.

Then I'll do that.

Thanks.

Do you remember that evening when I came to say goodbye?

Watching the fireflies?

Waiting for them.

Yes, I remember.

I wanted to confess about the stone that hit the car.

This time, it wasn't a stone.

But it killed Teddie.

And because of me.

You're imagining that.

No.

You shouldn't talk about it.

You don't get better by not facing it.

I want to tell you.

It began with a fellow called Mohammed Baksh.

A JIF.

You know about the JIFs, Indian soldiers who were once prisoners

who turned coat to help the Japanese.

Yes, I've heard of them.

There were a lot of them in the invasion through Imphal.

Officers like Teddie took it to heart.

They couldn't believe that Indian soldiers

who'd served the army for generations

would turn against them with the Japs.

Regimental mystique.

It goes deep.

It was different for me.

The JIFs were my special pigeon.

I wanted prisoners.

Prisoners who would talk.

Teddie...

hated it.

Terrified we'd find one who'd been in his regiment.

An old Muzzy guide.

And did you?

He'd been captured by a patrol

from one of the companies probing forward

on our right flank.

The Brigadier gave Teddie and me the job

of getting information from him.

We found Mohammed Baksh squatting

on his hunkers under a tree.

Hello, Teddie, Merrick.

Heard you wanted a word.

Been having problems?

I know Japanese, you see, but I'm a bit short on the Urdu.

Do you want first go, Ronnie?

(speaking Urdu)

MERRICK: The usual questions.

His name, his father's name, what his job was.

He got confused and nervous,

glancing at Teddie all the time.

And suddenly, I realized.

What he couldn't keep his eyes off was Teddy's cap badge.

I said, "Baksh, you're an old soldier

of this officer's regiment, aren't you?"

(crying)

I don't believe him.

I say he's lying.

I know every sepoy who was with us in Burma.

He's not one of ours.

(speaking Urdu)

Malaya, my Captain Sahib.

Ask him his CO's name.

(speaking Urdu)

Hostein Sahib, Hostein.

My God.

An Indian?

That's not right, surely.

It is, you know.

Hostein Sahib is what they called Colonel Hastings.

MERRICK: So here was proof.

He told how he'd been captured by the Japanese

and persuaded to join the Indian National Army.

He said he and two other ex-Muzzy guide Sepoys

had managed to escape while their unit was pulling out

of a village down the road, but had become separated.

They must be hiding, scared to come out.

But he gave their names.

Azziz Khan and Fariqua Khan.

Now he'd be shot.

And he was glad.

He deserved death for being disloyal to his uniform.

He begged Teddie to shoot him there and then.

But Teddie said...

"Listen to me, Mohammed Baksh.

"You're still a soldier.

"Act like one.

"You've done very wrong, but I am still your mother

and your father."

The old formula, manbap.

Teddie believed it.

He said...

Mera nam Bingham hay.

"My name is Bingham.

Yad raknha.

Remember that."

It was a sort of pledge.

Mera nam Bingham hay.

Yad raknha.

I'm sorry.

Do you think you could help me

to a drink from that contraption?

All right?

Thanks.

"I am your mother and your father."

A ridiculous scene, in a way.

But Teddie meant it.

And Baksh trusted in that.

Only I didn't trust Baksh.

I took the intelligence officer with me.

I went to have a word with his CO.

I wasn't certain Baksh was telling the truth,

that the JIFs and the Japanese had pulled out of the village

and that it was safe for the company to move forward.

I wanted to question him again.

Alone.

But when we got back, Teddie had gone.

So had Baksh.

And the driver, and our Jeep.

The sergeant on mule line picket duty

told us they'd driven off.

They'd gone down the road towards the village

to look for Baksh's companions, the other two JIFs.

Teddie's gone off his head!

The IO managed to grab a Jeep and offered to drive me

down the track.

Is your JIF trying something on?

I don't know, but I want them back.

There they are.

Stop!

He's only taking a look-see.

He won't find them there, we've patrolled that.

TEDDIE: Azziz Khan!

Fariqua Khan!

MERRICK: I'll always remember them.

TEDDIE: Azziz Khan!

The names, not the men.

TEDDIE: Fariqua Khan!

We never saw the men.

(explosion)

Hold on!

They were hit!

Didn't you see?

(machine gun fire)

(machine gun fire)

(gunshot)

I hoped he wouldn't live.

I couldn't do much for him.

My left arm was numb.

He died before they got to us.

After dark.

I never saw Baksh again.

But I was right.

He'd been lying.

The Japs were there.

Teddie believed him.

"I am your mother and your father."

The old mystique.

He wanted to prove that to me.

That's why he was killed.

You won't tell Susan, will you?

No.

And I don't want to hear...

You haven't told me anything about yourself.

What they've got to do.

Oh, I'll be all right.

In a few weeks, I'll be back on my feet.

I suppose that's something.

Susan's going to have a baby, isn't she?

Teddie was very proud.

He told others, not me.

I'm not quite the sort of chap you tell that kind of thing to.

She wonders if you'd like to be a godfather.

How very kind.

But under the circumstances, it wouldn't be quite right.

Are you to be a godmother?

Tell her I was touched.

And very grateful.

Being there with Teddie when he died

reminded me of something else.

The last thing I did as DSP in Mayapore.

A missionary teacher had committed suicide.

Oh, do you mean Miss Crane?

You knew her?

No, but the woman who lives with Auntie Mabel used to be

in the missions.

She often talks about Edwina Crane.

She locked herself in her garden shed

and burned herself to death.

A symbolic act.

She'd been attacked in the riots.

She must have felt her India was dead,

so like a good widow, she made a funeral pyre.

I had to go along, poke about amongst her things.

I found a picture of Queen Victoria

sitting on an Indian throne.

"The Jewel in the Crown."

Waiting there with Teddie, it all seemed to connect.

Victoria and the Raj.

"I am your mother and your father."

Death by fire.

And for a moment there, I fell for the idea of it.

Devotion, sacrifice, a cause,

a moral definition of what we're here for.

People living in a world some sort of God created.

The whole impossible, nonsensical dream.

We shouldn't talk about it.

Really, I can't...

(door opens)

I'm sorry, Miss Layton.

I'm told your uncle's come to fetch you.

I'm afraid I'm going to turn you out.

How are we?

We are well.

I'll say goodbye then, Ronald.

I'll ring tomorrow before I leave.

Well, tomorrow won't be at all a good day to ring us,

will it, Captain Merrick?

No, Sister Prior, I suppose it won't.

The day after.

I shall be traveling back to Pankot the day after.

I thought I'd ring you before I left.

Oh well, your uncle can keep in touch.

I'm sorry to bustle you, but we have our little duties.

I'll write to you from Pankot.

Will you?

Of course.

Goodbye, Ronald.

(door closes)

Marvelous, isn't he?

You simply wouldn't know he's constantly in pain.

He fights taking drugs.

And it's all to the good he's not over dependent.

He'll come through tomorrow that much better.

I am sorry, but we know nothing.

And he wouldn't say.

And you ought to know, oughtn't you?

The left arm.

The left arm?

They took the hand off in Comilla.

Tomorrow we have to take off from just above the elbow.

The right arm's a mess too, but we can save that.

His face will be scarred for life,

but the hair will grow again, of course.

He might even look human without the bandages.

Bitch!

You bloody, bloody bitch.

There you are!

Uncle Arthur.

They said I should wait here.

Have you heard the news?

We've gone in.

Landed in Normandy this morning and established a beachhead.

The invasion?

Your mother will be bucked.

I'd lay odds on your father being out of prison camp

and home for Christmas.

We'll have a special drink to that.

This is Major Clark.

Only a captain when he was on my course a couple of months ago.

My niece, Sarah Layton.

How do you do?

Be a good fellow and whistle up the driver for us, will you?

Yes, of course.

Decent of him to look us up on his way through Cal.

He's coming round to the flat, so you'll be meeting him

and some of my present lads.

How's young what's-his-name?

All right, considering.

I rang your aunt.

She suggested I pick you up.

She wondered if we ought to ring your mother.

What for?

Oh, just to make sure she's heard.

Heard what?

The good news, the invasion.

I say, are you all right?

Yes, thank you.

It's these places.

The smell gets in your tummy.

Your aunt'll settle that with a bath and a drink.

REPORTER: French rooftops over the bows of Allied landing craft

are beaching on the Normandy shore.

Tanks and heavy equipment are soon able to follow

in the tracks of the first wave of assault troops.

Round one of the invasion is won on points.

Hitler's Atlantic Wall has failed to stem the tide.

This was going on while Britain breakfasted to the first news

of the Allied landings.

These pictures take you right in among the men

who are putting Dunkirk into reverse,

planting themselves on the first bit of French soil

to be won back after four years.

Stiffening of resistance was to be expected.

A Bosch with his face bashed about a bit joins the gang

of his fellow countrymen taken prisoner--

just a few chipped off Hitler's army of occupation

for whom the invasion bell tolls.

(tapping on door)

Here you are, pet.

Thank you, Aunt Fenny.

Oh, I brought nothing long.

Oh, it doesn't matter.

It's only Arthur's boys and us.

They'll probably take you dancing,

so you won't need a dinner gown.

Now, tell me about poor Mr. Merrick.

You may not want to hear much.

They're cutting off his arm.

Oh, no!

When?

Tomorrow.

Seems he may be disfigured, too.

He was badly burned.

And what did you say?

I'm such a coward when it comes to anything like that.

Other people's illnesses.

It seems to strike me dumb.

And for you with him...

Why?

What's special about him?

Well, pet, you know the answer to that better than I do.

It's you who came all the way down here to see him.

Well, for Susan.

Only for Susan?

Yes.

Why?

Well, he was very attentive in Mirat.

I thought you might be a bit gone on him.

How could I be?

He's not our class.

Oh, that sort of thing doesn't matter like it used to, does it?

A board school boy, Aunt Fenny?

With a gentlemanly veneer and only one arm?

Couldn't I do better than that?

Oh, Sarah.

I was only thinking about your being happy.

None of that would matter if you really loved him.

I don't know what people mean by love.

And as a matter of fact, he abhors me.

But thanks for worrying about me.

Just don't, that's all.

(bell ringing)

I've met men I've been attracted to.

Some have been attracted back, that's simple enough.

But love, if it's ever happened, I never knew.

So it must be a bit of a sell.

Then it never has.

You've got it all to come.

(men's voices outside)

Isn't it wonderful about the news?

When your father gets home, I'm sure he'll be very proud

but awfully upset to know how little fun you've had.

It's a shame you won't see more of Jimmy Clark except tonight.

Such a nice man.

He's one of Arthur's most promising young chaps.

And he went to your father's old school.

He's only 30, but Arthur says

he'll be a lieutenant colonel soon if the war goes on.

Which it probably won't now.

Incidentally, he's been asking all about you.

Just finish making yourself look pretty and then we'll meet them.

Now, have you boys decided how you're going

to finish out the evening?

There's Ingrid Bergman and Gary Cooper at the New Empire.

"Send not to know for whom the bell tolls,

it tolls for thee."

I've seen it and it's rotten.

Anyway, unless you've booked, there isn't a chance.

Well, think it over with the coffee.

It won't be long.

And neither shall we, shall we, Sarah?

The thing is, pet, just to fall in with what they decide.

Don't be put off if you bump into some chichis.

Boys like this from home

think we treat girls like that awfully badly.

And perhaps we do, but you're not like that, are you, pet?

No.

Oh, and you'll have a lovely time!

And there's safety in numbers.

Listen to me, birds and bees.

I shan't start worrying about you until long after midnight.

And Jimmy Clark will look after you.

Be careful of the fair one.

He's had a bit too much.

I don't think we need to worry about him.

Don't we?

Heavens, how can you know about such things?

Well, anyway, come on.

Powder our noses and into the breach.

My bet is that they'll plump for dancing at the Grand Hotel.

(jazz band playing "You Are My Sunshine")

(applause)

Over the fence leaps Sunny Jim.

Force is the food that raises him.

You remember that, Leonard?

The breakfast stuff my nanny used to give it me.

My nanny was the most wonderful person ever lived.

With enormous...

I worshipped her.

Shut up, Tony.

Mind you, she was very "strick."

That's a funny word.

"Strick."

(applause)

Look, I only dance when there's plenty of room.

So now's your chance.

Aunt Fenny tells me you went to Chillingborough.

It's Daddy's old school.

Yes, I know.

I hope he survived the experience.

Yes, I think so.

Good, I survived it, too.

Have you been in India long?

Six months, but I'm off to Ceylon tomorrow.

Aunt Fenny said you were in the desert.

That's mostly a euphemism for Cairo, but yes.

Now, shall I ask the questions and give you a rest?

That fellow with us is going to be sick.

That's why I asked you to dance now.

SARAH: He was all right at dinner.

Not really.

Look, when this dance has finished

would you do something for me?

What?

Go and powder your nose and I'll come for you in ten minutes

after I've got rid of him.

I don't mind him being a bit high.

Yes, but I mind, and he's not just high, he's over the edge.

He'll probably end up crying.

Or don't you think he's the crying type?

SARAH: I don't know.

Well, I assure you that he is, so I'd be grateful

if you'd do as I suggest.

Sorry.

I thought I'd give it an extra five minutes.

Well, I'm afraid ten was too many

so there's a change of plan.

What do you mean ten was too many?

Well, he wouldn't budge, and his friend wasn't much help.

I'm sorry.

Anyway, this is a dreary place.

I'll show you something better.

Unless of course you want to go home.

I mean, it's only 10:30.

You're not really telling me the truth, are you?

You mean it isn't dreary?

I mean about the others.

I promised your aunt you'd come to no harm.

Now, if we go back now, she'll think that I bored you,

which isn't quite fair.

Our taxi's ready, so shall we go?

Where are we going?

Across the so-called bridge.

And what does that mean?

That's what you have to cross to reach the other side.

(sitar and drum music)