Original subtitles

(MILITARISTIC MUSIC)

(PASTORAL MUSIC)

(BIRDSONG)

(CATTLE LOW)

(lssues instructions)

Pull him round. Pull him round.

That's it!

Let him up.

G'day, Martin.

Dick.

(CATTLE LOW)

Mongrel-looking turnouts, aren't they?

Latest mob from the Queensland property.

Yes, they won't make the Barrington fortune.

They'll fatten on good pasture, bring us a price.

One of them got Dad last year.

Yeah. Yeah, that was rotten luck.

Give one to your mate, you bludger. (Laughs)

It's good to see you. Good to see you.

Look at you.

Flash as a rat with a gold tooth. Bush lout.

How come you're back from university?

Oh, mate, it's a long, long story.

Oh, it's like that, is it?

What's Sir Rupert think about it?

Well, I've been dodging Father since I got in last night.

You'll get away with it. You always have, you bludger.

Hey, I'm not the only one bludging on the Barringtons.

Right, you lot. What do you think this is, a bloody picnic?

Come on, Marty. There, mate.

Marty! You don't learn this at university, mate.

(Laughs)

(Yells)

(LIGHT-HEARTED MUSIC)

Come on, sugar. Do some work, mate.

What do you think this is? Bush week?

I tell you what, mate.

How about you and me go up the Queensland property for a while?

We'll clear out those scrubber bulls

and put some good bloodstock in among them.

Yeah.

Alright, you're on.

With a bit of practice, you might make a fair offsider.

I'll tell you what. I'll speak to Father about it.

Hey, it looks like you've got your chance. (Chuckles)

You ready to release him?

OK, easy. Let him go.

Smoko.

Is there a shortage of stockmen?

Well, I thought I'd just help...

I missed you at breakfast, Martin.

Wanted an early ride. I see.

Dick and I were talking about the Queensland prop...

I haven't time now.

See me in my study first thing after lunch.

Goddammit, boy!

You can't just walk out of university like that.

Well, I have.

You owe me an explanation.

Father, I've had years of schooling. It's enough.

What relevance is a degree in running a cattle property, anyway?

I don't want you as just another farmer, secure in his provincialism.

I had hoped you'd go on to my old college at Cambridge.

What I want is to learn this trade.

An unfortunate term.

Just give me some breathing space for a year,

then, if you wish, I'll take my degree.

Dick was talking about the Queensland...

Out of the question! Why?!

There's going to be a war.

I won't have a Barrington in the outback while the mother country is in peril.

Father, what are you talking about?

That war, if it happens, will be 12,000 miles away.

What's it got to do with us?

Your shallowness astounds me.

Perhaps university was a waste of time.

Martin, we are British, and being...

Oh, I thought we were Australian, Father.

And being British carries with it responsibility as well as privilege.

Whatever the Europeans want to do is no business of ours.

If Britain goes down, how long will this country stand?

I've heard all these arguments...

You may have heard it, but you obviously haven't listened to it.

I'm not going back this year.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

I accept that, Martin.

This year we will have important things to do.

I may have an interesting surprise for you

which will resolve all our difficulties.

We'll talk later when I know more.

Bit of a trimmer, eh?

Oh, alright if you like 'em thin.

Built like a racing tadpole.

Well, well.

'Poddy Calf' Jackson and 'Left-Hand' McGee.

Eh, fair go! That was a long time ago.

Stone the crows. It's Kate Baker.

Oh, Kate. Why didn't you let on it was you?

Thought you was one of the city sheilas.

I am a city sheila.

(PLAYFUL MUSIC)

Well?

Well, what?

Give us a lift with the luggage.

That's if your brain can send a message to your limbs.

I was expecting the anger. I was surprised at the hurt.

One generally is at your age.

He seems to have this great master plan.

I don't know if I'm ready for it.

Martin, you're his only child.

That makes it so much harder on him.

On all of us.

We were hoping that you'd follow the family traditionand finish at Cambridge.

(Laughs wryly) Yes, and acquire that all-important veneer

of European civilisation.

Oh, you've no taste for European culture?

Culture? Mother, they're tearing each other's throats out over there.

(Sighs) Don't worry. It's a half a world away.

(Sighs)

KATE: Mum, I'm not running off.

I'm just going to visit Dick for a few days.

You can come if you like. Hmph!

Don't see much of your brother, either,

since he's kicked on at the Barrington place.

Bloody rich squatters. Imitation Pommies.

Use up the working people,

then throw them aside when they're no longer wanted.

Oh, a cottage for life and a pension

is hardly what I'd call being 'thrown aside'.

It doesn't bring your father back.

That larrikin son of theirs is home.

Martin?

Yeah. They reckon he got kicked out of that fancy university.

Probably swallowed his silver spoon.

(Laughs)

And the Prime Minister has sent a cable to London, saying,

"Indescribable enthusiasm and entire unanimity throughout Australia

"in support of the Empire in war."

Hear, hear. Hear, hear.

We have never been so united. The whole colony will give its...

Nation, Father. We're no longer a colony.

Er, 'nation', then.

We are not at war yet, Rupert.

We will be at any moment.

The Prussians have been rampaging through Belgium and France

for two days now,

and they are well past the deadline of Britain's ultimatum.

Today's papers report that there's been an exchange of messages

between the Tsar, the Kaiser and King George.

Those three are cousins.

One must pray sanity will prevail.

My dear George, you will never change. Always naive.

(All chuckle)

Well, Rupert, if it is naivety

to hope that the nations of our great Western civilisation

can settle their differences like rational people,

then I am as you say.

If a simple farmer like myself can see the thing clearly

then surely you, as a scholar, can.

Whatever the cause, whatever the excuse, the issue is quite plain.

Germany is out for world domination.

She has planned it and will not be deterred.

I say, so be it.

If we must fight, we of the British Empire,

then let's do it now and put the Prussian back in his place.

Quite agree, Rupert.

A summer storm to clear the air over Europe.

MAN: Hear, hear.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

(LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION)

Would you excuse me?

Rupert has organised with the Cabinet

that they telephone him when a decision's been made.

It's probably only the butcher.

(All chuckle)

I say, Martin - if it starts, will you be going?

Most definitely. Oh, terrific.

To Queensland.

Oh.

What a pity. You'd look splendid in one of those red coats.

I think they went out in the Zulu wars, Lydia.

(Laughs) (Huffs) Oh. Nobody told me.

Ladies and gentlemen, Great Britain has declared war on Germany.

Not before time, either, Rupert.

Australia, New Zealand and Canada have announced

they will be raising forces immediately.

Good show. Jolly good. (All applaud)

Once we of the Empire set our minds to it...

Roberts, tell the staff to tap the barrel now.

I could be a nurse.

(Laughs) You faint at the sight of blood.

Well, then, perhaps I could read to the wounded.

MAN: Well, my dear, this will teach those Germans once and for all.

(Clears throat) Well, for better or for worse, here's to Australia.

(All murmur) Australia.

No, Martin, we shall drink the toasts in their proper order.

The King, God bless him, the Empire,

and then the land we love, Australia.

ALL: The King, the Empire, Australia.

If I may have your attention for one last time...

(Sighs)

Now is the time to confess to a gentle conspiracy

I had undertaken on Martin's behalf.

In anticipation of the stirring news which came tonight

I cabled my old comrade, the colonel of the Rifle Brigade.

That's the English regiment I had the honour to serve with

during the Boer War.

I received the reply from London today.

(PAPER RUSTLES)

The Rifle Brigade is pleased to accept my son Martin into the regiment

with the rank of 2nd Lieutenant.

(All exclaim and applaud)

Dick!

You getting tidy in your old age, mate?

Dick!

Oh... Kate!

My God. A vision of loveliness.

Spare me the Barrington wit.

(Laughs) The barrel's down that way.

To hell with the barrel.

Mmm. Do I hear a note of petulance?

Very likely. Which shoulder can I cry on?

Neither.

(Sighs and tuts)

(Laughs) Oh, come on, then. Tell all.

Oh, no. I'd rather talk about you.

They tell me you're a qualified nurse now. Congratulations.

Thank you, squire.

So, will you be staying in Tolangerook?

Oh, not on your life.

That nursing certificate is my passport out of the bush.

Is the bush that bad?

From my point of view it is, yes.

I have two choices here -

marriage and childbirth or childbirth and marriage.

(Quietly) Yeah.

What are you doing?

I'm just looking for a soapbox or something you can preach from.

Oh, you! (Laughs)

I'll get you! (Laughs) (Laughs)

Hey! Who's going the grope on my sister?

Oh, look, there's ants at every picnic!

(All laugh)

Oh, boys will be boys.

The three of us, huh, just like old times.

Old times don't come back.

No, we'll make them. Coming down for a beer?

Oh, no. I wouldn't want to spoil their little war fever.

I came to talk about Queensland.

I'm going whether Father likes it or not.

Oh, yeah, Queensland.

Well, there's been a bit of a change of plan.

What? It was your idea.

Well, er, me and the boys are gonna join up.

(BUGLE PLAYS SOFTLY)

Oh, come on, Marty. Wouldn't want to miss out. See some of the world.

I've seen some of the world. That's why I like it here.

They reckon it'll be over by Christmas. We'll go to Queensland next year.

You gotta be in it, mate.

(Sighs) Gotta laugh.

'Night, all.

(POIGNANT MUSIC)

What the hell was that all about?

He's having trouble making his first decision.

Oh.

MAN: All of Europe is threatened by the treacherous Hun,

even the mother country herself, fair England.

Australia too is now in the play.

Would we have had it otherwise?!

ALL: No!

It's only an old piece of bunting. It's only an old piece of rag.

But many have died for its honour and shed their life's blood for the flag.

(All cheer and shout)

And in the short space of 13 years since our nation's birth, our own flag.

(All cheer)

Is it worthy of sacrifice? Is it ready for its baptism of fire?

(All cheer)

I now call for volunteers to step forward

and be the first of the new Australian lmperial Force.

Why, if it isn't Tom McArthur, a hero of the football field...

(All cheer)

...who no doubt could be a hero of that other, greater field.

Who's next? Come on, boys! Step up!

Would to God that I could be with you!

(All sing) Should old acquaintance be forgot?

No! No! No, no, no!

Australia will be there...

I've gotta be in it, Mum! Roly, no! You're too young!

Fair go, Mum! A bloke couldn't miss this!

It's Australia's first chance to prove something to the rest of the world.

Now, that's what I want, boys! Come on, the rest of you too!

I want you to get in the line, sign up,

and I'll be right there, right there with you, boys!

Hey, come on, you blokes! You joining up?

Course we are. We'll be there.

Take care of me dog, mate. He'll follow me all the way to Ballarat.

Where's your fine friend Barrington now?

Martin's alright. I didn't ask about his health.

I asked where is he right now when he's wanted among his mates.

Marty can make up his own mind.

Dick, what are you waiting for?

The war will be over by the time we arrive.

MAN: About time you got here, Andy. Finished your shearing or what?

Come on, Dick. Let's go.

(LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION)

'Bye! 'Bye, boys!

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

(DOOR OPENS)

Thank you for dropping in so promptly, Martin. Sit down, boy.

We'll miss young Baker. He's leaving today, I understand.

Yes.

Waste of time, of course. He'll be back before long.

The Australian army - no future there.

Probably only used for garrison duties behind the line.

Well, Martin, what about you?

(Sighs) I suppose I'll be off to the Queensland property.

The Empire's at war, blast it!

You say our fellows won't get near it. Why bother?

I offered you an honourable alternative.

English commission.

Is that all you've got to say about the finest regimentin the British army?

Father, it's not for me.

I don't understand one damn thing about you now

except your desire to contradict me at every turn.

Father, I'm NOT contradicting you.

It's MY life, and... Then I suggest you get on with it!

...and it's MY decision!

Might as well let him go. They'll be home soon, anyway.

(Laughs)

Mrs Baker. Came to see them off, did you?

Uh-huh. Well, you're too late!

Well, I'd better get after them and make my farewells.

It's a lovely day for a ride. Care to join me?

(Laughs)

(Clicks tongue) Yah.

(LIGHT-HEARTED MUSIC)

(All whisper)

Yah!

(LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION)

(Whistles)

No point in walking the whole way.

Which way are you heading?

Queensland.

Oh. I'm going to France.

Yeah, well, that's what I mean.

I'm heading to Queensland the long way, via France. (Laughs)

You and I have got an arrangement, mate!

(Both laugh)

Thanks, Kate. Be seeing you.

Yes, you probably will.

You pack your lunch? (Laughs)

See ya, fella! Whoo-hoo! Good to have you with us.

How far we got, eh? (Laughs)

What's Sir Rupert got to say?

Sir Rupert's as pissed as hell. Oh, yeah. (Chuckles)

I bet he's not too happy about it.

(LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION)

Boys, boys!

I cannot let this historic moment pass without a few words.

As your member of Parliament, most of you know me.

MAN: Those of you that don't, keep your hands on your wallets.

(All laugh)

We are as one on this great issue.

Australia will defend the mother country to the last man and the last shilling!

Would to God that I could go with you, boys.

Oh, no. A fair dinkum 'would to God-er'.

As one whose duty lies at the home front,

I want you boys always to know that Cyril Earnshaw is right behind you!

Yeah - 12,000 miles behind you. (All laugh)

If you had one speck of shame you'd join up.

I am gonna join up - gonna join your outfit.

My outfit?

Yeah, 'B' Company. Be here when they go and be here when they come back.

(All laugh)

(WHISTLE BLOWS) Bloody bastard!

(JAUNTY MUSIC)

Come on, Marty.

You joining us, are you?

I might as well.

Comes to a choice between facing the guns and old windbags like him,

I'll take the guns every time.

Pat Cleary.

Martin Barrington. Pleased to meet you, mate.

(HORSE WHINNIES)

(Men shout) Whoa!

Crikey - if we organised a cattle muster like this, we'd all get the sack.

Yeah, I've seen better organised duck raffles in country pubs.

They never expected so many volunteers.

It'll take them months to get organised.

We won't miss out, will we?

No, we'll make it.

Geez, I remember a big muster up on the Barcoo.

That was organisation for you.

We had, what, 100,000 woollies coming in.

(Scoffs) Oh, here we go! No, fair dinkum.

They were coming in from 100 mile around.

It was so dusty, we had to shear by lamplight in the middle of the day.

(Laughs) MAN: Right, you lot, on your feet.

On your feet, I said. Look sharp!

(Clears throat) Do any of you blokes know anything about music?

Well, er, I studied a little, sir.

Good. You and your mates, shift that piano into the officer's mess.

Get on your way!

First lesson - never volunteer for anything.

(WHIMSICAL MUSIC)

Good on you, Marty.

Excuse me, sir - can I help them?

What's your name, son? Roly.

Roly what?

Roly Collins, sir.

Right. On your way, Collins.

MAN: Keep it still. Inward advance.

Left turn!

Left, I said, the man with the big hat!

Steady. And easy.

Men of No. 3 Platoon, I am Lieutenant Harold Armstrong

and I am your platoon officer.

You have all joined the colours of your own free will

for the duration of the war.

As volunteers, you will be treated like intelligent adults.

Our battalion, the 8th, has formed so rapidly

that there is a shortage of non-commissioned officers,

so I have two temporary appointments to make.

Firstly, is there any man who feels he has the experience

to perform the duties of platoon sergeant?

Sir! McArthur, sergeant with the 'F' Dunoon Rifles.

Yes, McArthur. You will have three weeks trial as sergeant.

Now, a volunteer for corporal.

Come, come, lads. It's worth an extra shilling a day.

(All murmur) Easy.

(MAN SHOUTS ORDERS IN DISTANCE)

I will have that man there. Do you agree, Private Barrington?

You were a cadet lieutenant, I understand.

Yes, sir, if that's what you want, sir.

Good. Then that's settled.

Sergeant McArthur, take the men away and get them better dressed,

then give them two hours of close-order drill.

McARTHUR: Sir! Platoon... attention!

(DRUMS BEAT)

McARTHUR: Platoon... halt!

Platoon... will advance. Left turn!

Righto, you men. Let's get to know each other.

Now, you all know who I am.

You may think those high-and-mighty officers run the army.

Well, you'd be wrong.

The army's run by sergeants.

Always thought Bligh was a captain, not a sergeant.

What was that?

I said they should have made you a captain, Sergeant.

Yeah.

Righto, I want you to call out your names and tell us what you did in civvy life.

Johansen, dairy farmer.

Johansen, dairy farmer.

Well, well, what have we got here? 2.5 Dutchmen.

Not Dutch, Sergeant, Danish.

Carry on.

Harris, rouseabout.

You a Pommy, Harris? English, Sergeant.

I've been watching you, Harris. Seems you've been in the army before.

I was in the Boy Scouts, wasn't I?

Is that so?

Next. Collins. Bootmaker.

Baker. Stockman.

Cleary - middleweight champion of north Queensland,

all-time champion horse breaker of the outer Barcoo,

and breaker of women's hearts everywhere.

ALL: Ohhh... Anything else?

Well, sometimes I tell lies.

(All chuckle) Shut up, Cleary.

Next.

Barrington. Student.

You're a bit old to be in short pants, aren't you, Barrington?

They keep you back a couple of grades?

(All snigger) University student, Sergeant.

Oh, an educated man.

Well, it's real nice to have a silvertail like you in the platoon.

I thought we joined up to fight the Germans.

What was that?!

Come on! Speak up, laddie, so we can all hear!

I said I thought we joined up

to fight the Germans, Sergeant, not each other.

(All murmur agreement)

There's another thing you ought to know.

Now that you're in the army, you all come under King's regulations.

That's a big, thick book where they list all the crimes they can think of.

For the crimes they HAVEN'T thought of,

the offender will have to deal with me in person.

Things like having a big mouth, Cleary.

(Quietly) Me?

The penalty might be meeting me behind the tents at night.

(DISTANT DRUMMING)

Right, then. Let's begin.

Now, get back to attention!

Platoon... right turn!

By the left... quick... march!

(DRUMMING GROWS LOUDER)

(Man shouts orders)

Pull it back.

Deep breath.

Try again. One, two, three...

(Cocks gun falteringly)

Like the story of the old bull and the younger one, mate.

Alright, fellas.

Put these on your service dress and we're off to the firing range.

Hey, bewdy!

Hang on, Marty.

That's Australia. I'm a Queenslander.

Bad luck, Pat. Officially Australian now, mate.

Oh, well, that's not so bad. I thought you might make me a Victorian.

What's wrong with Victorians, you banana-bender?

ALL: Yeah! Have you got a couple of hours?

(Derisively) Hey, watch yourself. (All laugh)

Blimey, it takes a bleeding war in Europe

to make you lot understand you all belong to the same country.

He's right, you know.

Oh, yeah, he's right, you know. Yeah, Bill.

Yeah, takes a Pommy... Oi!

(Both laugh)

At your targets, 10 rounds.

Fire! (GUNSHOTS ECHO)

(Man issues orders indistinctly)

I think we underestimated these men, Sergeant.

A letter from your regiment, dear.

The Germans have been repulsed outside Paris.

They won't be able to take much of this. Should be over soon.

Yes, dear, that's what you said weeks ago.

And we've heard of nothing but defeats and retreats.

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

Martin seems to have got in with a group of amusing young men.

(Chuckles) A man called Cleary has taught him how to play... two-up.

What on earth is two-up?

Do you remember Bertie Oldfield?

We met him when we were in London last year.

Yes. He was a captain in your regiment, wasn't he?

And Tony Wentworth-Jones...

...and Sandy Fitzwilliam.

Bellamy Carew. Yes, I remem...

They're all dead.

They and 20 other officers of the 2nd Battalion and 389 other ranks.

It's the 2nd Battalion that offered Martin a commission.

I'm sorry, Thea.

It's the suddenness of it.

The finest regiment in the British regular army...

...destroyed.

(Sobs quietly)

Come on, boys, get yourselves set at Honest Pat's Two-Up School,

famous the length and breadth of the outback.

The Murrumbidgee Kid's throwing at the moment,

going for his fourth straight head.

20 quid says he can do it.

(All talk at once)

Hey, Pat.

Eh? Oh, not now, Roly. I don't take underage bets.

No, I just wanted to tell you... Not now, mate.

We all covered on the side?

Yeah, yeah. All covered heads?

In the centre, all covered? Alright, come in spinner.

(All murmur)

(All cheer and chatter)

Tails pays. Tails is a big winner.

Discount 10% for wear and tear on the carpet.

They said to tell you that they're going to the pub.

Pub's out of bounds.

I've organised a back room. Good on you, Roly.

Tell 'em I'll be there in five minutes.

The way I'm going, I'll be shouting. OK.

We got that other spinner?

(All laugh) No class at all, mate.

Yeah. (Laughs)

Oh, well, you'll be happy enough here, Bill.

Looks like an English pub.

Don't mind, so long as they serve beer.

DICK: Pull up a pumpkin and sit down.

Yeah. (Laughs)

Ah, good evening, gents.

Sorry for serving you out here.

The saloon's full of officers, the bar's full of sergeants.

You wouldn't want to mix with them. (All agree)

Give us five pints of beer, landlord.

Oh, no, thanks, Pat.

Four beers and a lemon squash, mate. Eh?

Well, I signed the pledge. I promised my mum I wouldn't drink.

Alright, four pints of beer

and a pint of lemon squash for our mate here.

His wife wears her cardigan backwards, right?

"And furthermore," he says,

"all the sheep bear a remarkable family resemblance."

(All laugh)

Good one, Pat! Crikey, I know that feeling.

Yeah, but never as plastered as that.

(FOOTSTEPS THUMP)

(Slurs) Why don't you shut your noisy mouths...

Oh, Jesus, you lot.

How'd you be, huh?

A man works all week and they come back to haunt you after hours.

I ought to do the lot of you. (All snigger)

But I won't, no, no.

I'm gonna put you all on a charge.

You couldn't walk back to camp, let alone write out a charge sheet.

You had it comin', pal! Hey, take it easy, Sarge.

It's my fault. I brought 'em here. Piss off!

Why don't you start with someone your own size?

(Grunts with effort)

BILL: Have you hurt him, Dick? No chance.

I tell you what, though - I'd think twice about tackling him sober.

You alright, Roly? Yeah, mate.

We better go. The place will be crawling with jacks.

We can't just leave him like that.

No, you're right. (Laughs) Come on, McArthur, wake up.

(Snorts)

(Pants) Blast you.

The whole lot of you.

You think it's all a game.

We don't think it's a game, Sarge.

Yes, you do - a big bloody game!

You poor buggers are going to a war!

A bullet in the guts is the best you can expect, like my old man.

(Quietly) Like my old man.

(POIGNANT MUSIC)

(Sobs) It took him 10 years to die.

I heard him coughing it up every night.

(Sobs)

Which way is it meant to go?

Straight ahead. Straight ahead?

Hey, look at that. We've got more important things to do.

(CRASH!)

Morning, Sister. Can I carry your gear for you?

You certainly can.

Struth, what are you doing here?

Mum sent me to keep an eye on you.

You can carry your own gear, sis.

Morning, Sister.

(English accent) May I be of assistance, ma'am?

Thank you, Private.

Corporal. Where are you ladies staying?

So, this is what you meant when you said you'd see us.

I've had my name down on the reserves for months.

And you never told us.

You never asked.

It's really good to see you. (Giggles)

You coming to France with us?

Mm-hm.

France. I can tell you a few stories...

Put the bags down here, please, Corporal.

Oh... (Laughs)... cut the 'Corporal'.

(WHIMSICAL MUSIC)

Oh, I see.

Army rules. Some places are out of bounds to other ranks.

But you'd understand that, wouldn't you?

Just like the big house at Hereford Downs.

Well, one to you, madam, but I'll even the score.

What - by applying for a commission?

I wouldn't go that far. I'll get you back.

(Laughs)

BILL: I wasn't complaining, mind you.

I've always been a top man, myself, on that sort of score.

So we went for a daytrip - just a daytrip, mind.

Little town called Bologne. Nice grub, but the beer wasn't much.

Someone said the other day that the French eat frog's legs.

I don't think I'd like that much.

G'day, boys.

ALL: G'day, Dick.

What do you reckon, Marty? What's that?

They're saying in France, we could eat frog's legs.

(Laughs) It's not compulsory.

What, so you've been, then?

Mm-hm.

Life's fairly snouted the young squire today.

My sister's a lieutenant and Martin Barrington's only a corporal.

(All laugh) Good on you, Dick.

Alright, alright, what's France like?

Well, I went up the Loire Valley,

and it was, well, like something you've never seen before.

A great, slow river that never runs dry, vineyards, castles.

A sun that never gets too hot.

Any sheilas?

For sheilas, you should try Paris.

Well, go on.

Folies Bergere, Moulin Rouge, Bal Tabarin.

Wine, women and song right round the clock.

(All snigger)

ROLY: One soon learns to expect the unexpected in the army.

On the day our transports were getting ready to leave Australian waters,

Turkey came into the war on Germany's side.

Instead of the fields of France, it was the sands of Egypt.

Now, after five months of training, we're heading for a place called Gallipoli.

Martin said the idea was to attack Germany through the back door.

They even gave us a new name for the occasion - ANZAC.

Well, Pat says it sounds like a South American Indian tribe,

but it stands for the Australian and New Zealand Army Corps.

The mood was quiet.

The boys knew that all of Australia would be watching us today.

(Men sing) Oh, God, our help in ages past

Our hope for years to come...

What are you breaking up the crate for?

Firewood, Roly. Haven't you ever been in the bush?

Course not. He was brought up respectable, weren't you, Roly?

(All laugh)

Now, remember, lads, the biscuits and water you have

are to last for three days.

There's nothing else at this spot in Gallipoli.

Right, skip. Nothing but Turkish soldiers.

Stub out that cigarette.

Now, we turn left once ashore, do the beach quickly.

No smoking.

Good luck to you, lads. You too, skip.

Good luck to you, sir. Good luck, Roly.

Three days rations, boys - the biscuits and the water.

Look after 'em. Three days on the rations.

(All shout)

Here we go, Marty. Here's to Australia!

Get off the beach! Move, move, move!

(SHOUTING CONTINUES)

(GUNFIRE RESOUNDS)

Double, double, double!

3 Platoon, 3 Platoon, ready and out! Come on!

2 Section, how many here?

The boys are over this side.

Rest of us are here except Trellow and Smith.

Come on, come on. Let's get up there.

Sir, the blokes are all mixed up. I can't contact the company.

You and 100 others.

But the map doesn't make sense. You're dead right there.

Get a message to the Colonel.

Tell him they've landed us a mile to the north.

Hear that? We're on the wrong beach.

Hey, slip up and tell the Turks it's a mistake.

You bloody tell them, Cleary!

Not me.

(SHOUTING AND GUNFIRE)

3 Platoon, follow me!

Come on, 2 section! Move!

Stay in close to the wall!

Move in closer!

Sergeant, advance your section now!

Karl, can you make it? Move out, faster!

Hang on, old son. Medical section will be along soon.

Ready, Erik?

Move them up, Sergeant!

OFFICER: On your feet, Johansen. Up here!

Stretcher-bearers!

(GUNFIRE AND SHOUTING CONTINUES)

Watch your footing!

Keep down!

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(Shouts) Forward!

(GUNFIRE)

1 and 2, go!

3 and 4, go!

Ready, Pat? Ready.

Just my luck to be stuck with a bloody pocket Napoleon.

(MUSIC INTENSIFIES)

FIRE!

(GUNFIRE)

Go.

(Exclaims) Arggh!

Marty! Dick!

(DRAMATIC MUSIC CONTINUES)

(GUNFIRE)

Where are you going?

Just cover me.

(GUNFIRE)

(Grunts)

(GUNSHOT)

(Grunts)

Dick.

OK.

Bloody hell. Let's dismantle the gun and get out of here.

Where's your sergeant mate? Lost him.

(GUNFIRE)

Down, mate.

Bloody thing's back-to-front.

Come on.

Come on! Come on, boys!

It's no good, mate. We're lost.

Do you know which way to the beach? I may be buggered, but not stupid.

Look, mate, what do I know about the bush?

We can't do it. You go.

(EXPLOSION)

I'm not going without you, mate.

We're getting out of here.

Fall.

(Both laugh)

How are ya, mate?

Alive.

(Pants)

What are you doing? Having a picnic?

You should be helping dig in along this ridge.

It's only 11 o'clock. We're miles short of our objective.

The home team's got everything in its favour.

They've got all the high ground.

They know the bloody country. They've got reinforcements coming.

I reckon we're in real strife.

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

(GUNFIRE)

It's no good. It's too steep.

Throw me over - I'll manage. But it will kill ya.

Quick!

Let go!

Arggh!

You know, someone said that the main weapon in this war would be a shovel.

They're not wrong, mate.

See anything, Dick?

No, but they're out there, alright.

'A' Company, stand tall.

Something stirring, sir?

Yes, they're mounting a counterattack.

We'll hold?

Look around. What do you think?

Good luck, Martin. Same to you, sir.

(GUNFIRE)

Pick off your target! Don't waste ammunition!

(Man yells)

Struth, it's like getting in the last keg at the butchers' picnic.

You gotta pay the old Turk - he comes on like a train.

What are you doing, Baker? Having a tea-break?

There's gotta be a nark at every party.

(Men yell)

They're all heading back. Dick!

They've had enough. Have a look.

(Men laugh and shout)

'Bye, Abdul.

(GUNFIRE SUBSIDES)

Reports this section, Corporal.

They've retreated, sir. Told you we'd hold 'em.

Another step back and we'd have been up to our necks in salt water.

It's not over yet, Martin.

(EXPLOSIONS IN DISTANCE)

The ANZAC Corps commander, sir.

I came ashore as soon as I could.

Well, those, er, New Zealanders and Australians of yours, Bridges,

have done a magnificent job.

Someone made a similar remark AFTER the Charge of the Light Brigade.

If you have something to say then say it.

I believe it's time to seriously consider evacuation.

Good God, man, do you realise?

We have been landed in the wrong place,

we have failed to take any of our objectives,

our men are clinging to chasms and to cliffs.

If one part of the line breaks, the Turks will be on the beach in minutes.

Fellas, Roly's back.

A few cuts and scratches, but he's alive and kicking.

Pat. Told you, the kid's a born survivor.

He's got quite a story to tell.

Yeah, I have.

I started going back to the beach... Oi. Save it.

(Men shout in distance)

What's wrong with you?

(EXPLOSION IN DISTANCE)

Where's Dick?

He went to look for those wounded blokes we heard calling.

What?!

We tried to stop him, but you know Dick.

Turks could swarm this gully any minute.

Yep.

(Whispers) Dick, you stupid bastard.

Hey. (GUNSHOT)

Arggh!

Stretcher-bearer!

Do you realise I have committed my last reserves?

Walker, where have you been? Taking on the Turks single-handed?

No, sir. I have been... No, let General Bridges summarise.

Of my three brigades, one has ceased to exist as a fighting formation.

The other two have suffered severe casualties.

Where are you getting your information from?

From wounded and men returning to the beach.

God, what have shocked men and stragglers to say that is accurate?

It leads me to the conclusion that our fighting spirit

that has held up so far will crack under this impossible pressure.

I believe we should evacuate before this happens.

An evacuation at night in contact with the enemy - that's a recipe for a shambles.

I'd rather stay and die on the beach.

I visited a number of the forward companies. They're holding well.

Up there, the thought of failure hasn't even entered their heads.

I cannot take responsibility for evacuation.

And I have a responsibility to the government of Australia and my men.

Signal from the Commander-in-Chief, sir.

Thank you.

(Reads) "Your news is indeed serious.

"There is nothing for it but to dig in and to stick it out. Evacuation is impossible.

"You have got through the worst of the business.

"All you have to do now is to dig, dig, dig until you are safe."

Signed... lan Hamilton, Commander-in-Chief.

Well, there it is.

You know, Bridges,

you may have underestimated those Australians of yours.

DICK: It's me. I'm coming in.

Watch the arm.

Oh, beauty.

Jacko.

I knew my mates wouldn't let me down.

Come on, old son, let's get you comfortable.

(Laughs)

There's scores of poor coots out there who'll never be found.

Good to see you back, mate.

G'day, Roly.

Still in the land of the living, eh?

(SOLEMN MUSIC)

What's up?

Where's Marty?

He got knocked 10 minutes ago.

Bad?

Through the stomach.

You're to be Acting Corporal, Dick.

I'm not gonna take Martin's place.

What about Bill?

I want you.

Crikey, he's a better soldier.

This is not a debating society, Baker.

Though listening to some of you, you'd think so.

Mr Armstrong wants you, and that's the end of it, right?

Right? Now, sort out the reinforcements.

Smartly.

Only three.

Yeah. Two got knocked coming up.

Names.

Richie, Warner. I'm Flanagan.

OK, you blokes find Cleary, Harris and Collins.

One each - they'll show you the ropes.

Get going!

What's the matter with you? Someone pinch your bag of lollies?

You could be handy if you don't get your block knocked off.

Tiny.

Thanks, mate.

Any pain? Nah, not much.

Do you ever go into the lotteries?

No. Why? Well, you ought to.

We found the bullet. Bounced off your ribs, ended near your pelvis.

Missed every vital organ on the way.

1,000-to-1 shot. You're a very lucky fella.

(Sighs) Have any trouble getting it out, or?

No, we didn't get it out. Don't worry, it's less dangerous that way.

(Sighs) Oh, well, thanks anyway.

It's all part of the service. That reminds me.

I've got a letter for you.

I'll give you a hand, eh?

Good on you. Thanks very much.

I see you're in the 8th. Mmm.

Those nurses who came with the 8th will move here next month.

Oh, yeah. Aye, aye. Anyone in particular?

Yeah. Sister Baker. Do you know her?

Do I? Doesn't everybody?

When's she due in?

I'll let you know.

ROLY: "Dear Martin,

"the news came through at last that you were alive and recovering.

"It lifted the spirits of the platoon, particularly Dick and Mr Armstrong.

"It was a real pleasure to see them back to their old selves again.

"Not that there's many of the old faces left. Just 11.

"Things have been pretty lively over here, I can tell you.

"Well, even the generals aren't safe.

"General Bridges, our commanding general, was killed the other day.

"A few of the new reinforcements showed up well,

"particularly a bloke called Flanagan.

"He's sort of like Bill and Pat in a way -

"he's got a nose for trouble and can anticipate it.

"I know you'll like him.

"Most of us have had a few more nicks, including yours truly,

"but nothing serious.

"There's some furphy about some big attack, so stay in hospital.

"Pat says only mugs live here.

"The best from all the boys, even McArthur.

"Yours, Roly."

(GENTLE PIANO MUSIC)

(CRICKETS CHIRP)

Hey. Take a look.

Oh, God.

(Man moans) Angel from heaven, boys.

(Man wolf whistles)

(MELANCHOLY MUSIC)

MAN: Come on.

Martin? (Groans)

Martin.

(Groans) (Gasps)

(All laugh)

You...

You!

Is that any way to treat your wounded hero?

Have you got any drains or sutures?

Nup. All healed up.

Headaches? Uh-uh.

Well, cop this.

(All groan and laugh)

You ratbags, get back to bed or I'll have you on a charge.

(All laugh and chatter)

(JAUNTY MUSIC)

(Chuckles)

To sum up, the ANZAC Corps will launch a series of attacks here

at 0900 hours - the Nek and Lone Pine.

These will cover the landing of the two English divisions at Suvla Bay.

Do you have any comments to the Commander-in-Chief?

Sir?

Bloody murder.

I beg your pardon?

Bloody murder.

Could you put it into language I can convey to the Commander-in-Chief?

Right, then.

One, you ask us to commit tired troops against a well dug in, determined enemy.

Two, every inch of that ground is swept by fire.

Three, the objective is to draw the Turkish reserves on us

while you land two divisions at Suvla.

Now, this can easily be accomplished by means of raids and diversions

without the slaughter of a full-blown attack.

Damn!

(GULLS CRY)

Dick and I would have been in Queensland now.

It's a real man's world, isn't it?

Not impressed, huh? No.

That's why I left the bush in the first place.

That's why I like it here.

You like the war?

I like what it gives me.

A chance to run my own life.

You've got everyone from captains to generals running your life.

You miss the point.

Nobody here gives a hoot who I am or where I came from.

They're only interested in how I measure up in my job.

You try that as a woman in a country town.

What if you had good reason to go back?

Such as? Oh, I don't know.

What say you and I got married?

(Laughs) Oh, Martin.

It could never happen.

People like me become mistresses to people like you.

Not wives.

I know this war's going to sweep away all that nonsense.

Is it?

Marty, the senior doctor tells me

he could get you to a convalescent camp in Egypt.

No way. I'm going back to Anzac.

Why, for God's sake?

Well, look after Dick, for one thing. Oh, blow Dick.

He can look after himself.

Who's gonna look after you?

(EXPLOSIONS IN DISTANCE)

Take the powder, bit of old shrapnel...

...just a dash of barbed wire - rusty if possible.

Tamp it down.

Add detonator and fuse.

Voila. Bloody marvellous.

The greatest empire in the world, and the best it can do is a bomb in a tin.

How are you going? Still flash as a rat.

Yeah, course. Stay where you are!

Got to keep him from the detonator.

Good to see you, Roly. How's Kate?

Good, mate. How's your gut?

Never mind. What about the nurses, mate?

Is this the way to Second Brigade HQ?

Mr Murdoch. Hello. You back already?

Martin, isn't it? That's right.

Weren't you due for a convalescence?

Well, you know - someone's gotta look after these blokes.

Oh. See you around, no doubt. Yeah. Straight down that way.

Thank you.

Who's he, mate? Keith Murdoch.

Oh, the reporter bloke.

He's not your ordinary reporter, I tell you. I met him on Lemnos.

He's supposed to be looking into postal arrangements for the troops.

There's more to him than meets the eye.

Yeah? Good or bad?

He's on our side.

You picked a good time to return. The nobs are planning something.

Well, I always was lucky.

Martin, I've written a poem. Do you want to hear it?

Yeah. Oh, spare us, mate.

Hang on. I think the kid's got a bit of talent.

Come on, Roly. Go on, on the box.

Here, listen up. Follies on.

A bit of quiet for the artist.

(Recites) "We've forgotten all our manners and our talk is full of slang

"'Cause you haven't got time for grammar when you hear the rifles bang."

(Men groan) Fair go.

Go on. Go on.

(Reads) "The heat and flies and lice and things has drove us nearly barmy

"So we peeled off all our clobber...

"...and we're called the naked army."

(All groan and laugh)

(LOW-LEVEL CONVERSATION)

Hmm. How about morale?

It's, er... getting better.

Morning, Colonel White. Morning, Murdoch.

How are your, er, inquiries coming along?

They're progressing, thank you.

We had a signal from the Commander-in-Chief.

He requests a departure date from you.

Requests or orders?

At that level it's the same thing.

He is aware, I imagine,

that I'm here at the behest of the Australian Government.

I'm afraid the British high command is not much preoccupied

with the wishes of the Australian Government.

But they are quite willing to use our troops.

I should like to stay.

At least until after the big attack.

It's not like you to be so quiet, Colonel.

It's not part of my job to supply information to civilians.

No. But it is mine.

And to governments.

I think the Commander-in-Chief is aware of that.

Particularly your conversations with the 'Times' correspondent.

I see.

The high command's intelligence is good.

I only hope their generalship is up to the same standard.

There is a rumour that General Walker is strongly against the attack.

He regards it as an unnecessary sacrifice

of Australians and New Zealanders.

As a soldier, you don't expect me to answer that.

No.

But as a civilian, you don't expect me not to ask it.

A date, Murdoch. They want a date.

And they shall have one.

Sooner or later.

Good morning, Mrs...

(Children squeal and shout)

Mrs Baker.

Oh, keep away from me.

Mrs Baker, I only want to have a word.

You only come round when there's something dead in the paddock.

Mrs Baker, please.

You've got an army telegram, haven't you?

No, I don't have any telegrams with me today.

But I do have some news of your son, Dick.

I thought you'd like to know. I gather you haven't had a letter yet.

Kate, she writes like clockwork, but Dick's not one for pen and paper.

Martin Barrington's letters have been coming through

and he writes so much about Dick.

Well, go on, then. Oh, please, Reverend.

For a start, it appears your son is doing well in the army.

They've already made him a corporal.

Here, mate. You OK?

Yeah, OK.

What's it like?

It's a hell of a fight, but the boys are in the Turkish trenches.

Yeah?

It's like a mine gone mad - tunnels and things all over the place.

It's our luck to be a carrying party while the others do the fighting.

Well, it suits me just fine.

(Sighs) So you had a long talk to Kate, eh?

Yeah, long enough. You know, just what I told you.

You'll do the right thing by her, won't you?

What the hell does that mean?

Well, you lot generally get what you want.

All I was doing... No, listen to me.

She's my sister and she's got a future.

I don't want her headed in the wrong direction.

Yeah. And you mean my direction. Depends on what you've got in mind.

Oh, it's a crazy subject to talk about.

No... Two bomb carriers at the double.

Let's go. Straight up.

The sergeant will tell you where to go. Come on, Marty.

Besides, I'll come back and haunt you.

(EXPLOSIONS)

(FOREBODING MUSIC)

(EXPLOSIONS CONTINUE)

He won't be giving any more directions.

No.

Which way?

Let's go.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

Turn. (GUNFIRE)

Bloody hell.

I've got some bombs here, mate.

You cover me when I tell you? Right.

Cover!

Arggh!

Come on, Marty. Yeah, yeah, yeah. It's coming.

Come on! Cover!

(EXPLOSION) (Man yells)

Beauty, Marty. Keep them coming.

You got 'em, Marty?

Look out. Bombs.

Go!

What the bloody hell is happening?

I don't know.

You stay here, mate. I'll have a squizzy round the corner.

Hey, take it easy.

Dick, take it easy. I'll be right, mate.

(Breathes heavily)

(Grunts) (Yells in pain)

Dick!

Dick, you OK?

Sweet as a bun. Well, just answer me next time, huh?

I had my hands full.

(Sighs)

(Men yell in Turkish)

Bombs, Marty.

Take it easy.

(OMINOUS MUSIC)

(Grunts)

(EXPLOSION) (Man yells)

Keep it going, Marty.

Only seconds to the final bell, mate.

(GUNSHOT)

(CLICK!)

Dick!

Dick.

(Whispers) Dick.

Dick!

(Sobs)

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

Crikey. We heard your little shindig.

It doesn't look like you need us now.

It was all his work.

Jeez, he must have been a goer.

I was supposed to be protecting his back.

A mate of yours, was he?

Come on, pal.

Go back to your own mob. You've done your share.

By the way, the boys have taken Lone Pine.

(Sobs)

(Pat plays 'The Overlander' on harmonica)

(CRICKETS CHIRP)

(Sighs)

(Man coughs painfully)

(INSTRUMENTS CLATTER)

(Sighs) So you've heard, huh?

I had to come just in case.

(Sobs)

(MELANCHOLY MUSIC)

I was so close! If only I'd looked around!

No, no.

I've seen as much death as you have. (Sniffles)

I know how random the chances are. Stop it, do you hear?

Mm-hm.

(Sighs)

(Sighs) It's not gonna be the same, you know.

Nothing's gonna be the same after all this.

May as well face up to it now.

(Sighs)

How did you wangle this?

Oh, Harry Armstrong, bless him. I have to go back tomorrow.

Good. Gives us some time.

Everything's measured in hours these days.

Pat gave me some money to buy up every luxury on the island.

You've come to the right woman. I have this friendly Greek merchant.

No, Martin. It's enough.

(HOOVES CLOP)

(HORN BLARES)

Mr Lloyd George will see you now, sir.

Come in, Mr Murdoch. How good of you to take the time to visit me.

It's the other way around, Minister.

No, not at all.

I bring greetings from my Prime Minister.

He says you and he have much in common.

Apparently you both had the good fortune to be born Welsh.

Good fortune, is it? I sometimes wonder if it's not a cross.

Still, your Mr Hughes has the Celtic fire in his belly, so I'm told.

I wish some of my Cabinet colleagues had a touch of it.

You were nobbled by the military, I hear.

Military intelligence intercepted me at Marseilles

and relieved me of a letter I was asked to deliver from Gallipoli.

It was written by the 'Times' correspondent

and a number of officers.

It was highly critical of the conduct of the campaign.

Pity. It might have pierced the fog of military despatches.

Very strange despatches our generals write.

They conceal what they should reveal, like the clothes of a virtuous woman.

But I do have another letter very like it.

(Opens letter)

Missed opportunities, chaotic supply lines,

confusion in the medical arrangements, incompetent staff?

Oh, this is very good, very good.

I will have it circulated as a Cabinet document. Very good.

Good, because it will jolt some of my colleagues.

Good, because some of us believe that our energies should not be directed

into bungled sideshows like Gallipoli.

But bad, too - bad for the British cause.

We will win this war. We HAVE to win this war.

But it will NOT be won by fox-hunting fools

or generals whose military imagination has fossilised

after chasing a few ragged farmers around the South African veldt.

Sir, may I report this conversation to the Australian Prime Minister?

Oh, you write to him, do you?

He has asked me to keep him informed on developments in London.

You know, Murdoch, I think you and I will get along very well together.

PAT: You blokes have never eaten like this before, let me tell yas.

(GUNFIRE BOOMS DISTANTLY)

And of course, me piece de resistance...

...damper studded with raisins,

smothered with apricot jam - spotted dog.

Looks more like a sick cat to me. We'll show you city blokes.

We live like kings up the bush. Mmm.

All that's missing is a tender little leg of jumbuck.

How about a bit of Queensland goat?

I heard that. And if I recognise the voice, you'll get nothing.

Just bear with...

(PLANE APPROACHES)

Bastards!

(All laugh) You bastards!

Stinking rotten fly-blown filthy mongrel of a dump!

I wouldn't swap 10 yards of the drought-stricken Barcoo

for this whole bloody rotten fly-blown peninsula!

And you'll be here. We'll all be here till we're bloody old men!

You already are, you silly coot.

Oh, no.

Stuff it!

(All snigger) (CLANG!)

Careful, Cleary! You could kill somebody with that!

(All laugh)

GENERAL WALKER: Evacuation?

We are expected to get 40,000 men off Anzac in full sight of the enemy.

Well, you're being less than the chatterbox today, White.

Come on, man, tell me.

Is the British Army expected to slink away like thieves in the night?

The quieter the better.

I've been working on a feasibility study

on how we just might avoid casualties, General.

This will need to be good, White.

(CLANG!)

Clown!

(GUNFIRE BOOMS)

This is the third time this week we've had a silent start.

What's it about?

There's no firing, not even any shooting back.

(SUSPENSEFUL MUSIC)

I don't know, Roly.

I'll tell you what my guess is. We're leaving.

Leaving Gallipoli?

Not quitting?

Living to fight another day.

Oh, come off it, Marty. Can't just pack up and go.

Why not?

'Cause we don't bloody quit, that's why not.

Who said anything about quitting?

We tried this "back door to Germany" nonsense and it failed.

Time we went in the front door - France.

No.

(GUNFIRE RESOUNDS) Clarke.

ROLY: After seven months on the peninsula,

we were as keen as the heads to break the stalemate.

We thought something funny was happening

when we were ordered to play cricket

on the only bit of flat ground at Anzac.

(PLANE ENGINE ROARS)

We were also acutely aware

that this place was under observation by the Turks.

Well, it wasn't called 'Shell Green' for nothing.

Sergeant McArthur, as usual, took the whole thing very seriously.

We noticed he picked all the best cricketers for his team,

leaving Martin with the also-rans like me.

He also made Pat the umpire,

which turned out to be the worst decision he'd made for some time.

I think Pat would've preferred to get his two-up school going.

Righto, on your toes, boys.

Sergeant McArthur turned out to be a very fast bowler,

but he seemed to think

it was a grudge match between himself and Martin.

Ho, ho! (All exclaim and applaud)

(All exclaim) Watch your head, Marty!

Howzat?

No ball.

(All applaud)

What do you mean, no ball?

You overstepped the mark by a foot, son. No ball.

(Stammers) Uh-uh. Don't argue with the umpire.

No ball. OK. OK.

(Groans with effort)

Howzat? How's that this time, Pat?

No ball.

(All applaud)

No ball?! It was a no ball last time!

Don't argue with the umpire. You're not the umpire anymore.

Go on! Get off! Eh?

Play cards! You can't send the umpire off.

You. You, come on. You get the sack, Cleary?

You're gonna be umpire.

You see that line? Yeah.

It's not there. Sir.

No no balls.

(JAUNTY MILITARY MUSIC)

You ready?!

(Grunts with effort)

(All shout) Catch it!

Look out! (PLANE ENGINE ROARS)

(CLONK!) Ow!

Good hit, Marty! (All applaud)

(RUSTLING)

(MYSTERIOUS MUSIC)

(GUNFIRE, EXPLOSIONS)

3,000 off tonight, sir, without a hitch.

(Grunts)

What was that?

The one they usually send over at this time?

20,000 still to go.

The next two nights are the clincher.

Is it really possible

we can get them away from under their very noses?

If everyone adheres to the plan, we can.

It's never been done before, you know.

(WATER TRICKLES)

(GUNSHOT)

10.5 minutes. Simple.

(LOW-KEY MILITARY MUSIC)

The rearguard commander is on the beach in position, sir.

Mr Armstrong.

OK, Sergeant.

(WATER TRICKLES)

Thanks for letting the originals be the last to leave, sir.

Nobody could have done better, Roly.

Nobody could have led us better, Harry.

Right, sir.

Well, it's time.

Thanks.

(GUNSHOT)

(GENTLE MUSIC)

BILL: I hope they can't hear us. Yeah.

Feel like a bloody dingo, sneaking around in the dark.

DICK: They say it'll be over by Christmas.

We can go to Queensland next year.

Come on, mate.

Look, if you thought of all the good blokes we've lost, you'd go crazy.

(Sighs) It was a stuff-up from the start.

Let's go, eh?

(SOMBRE MUSIC)

(WAVES CRASH)

All parties on the beach now, sir, and only two casualties.

Organisation and planning.

After nine months in Gallipoli,

our only achievement was the way we left.

This must never happen again.

Who was that bloke, Marty?

General White.

Yeah, well, I hope he can practise what he preaches

when we get to France - the real war.

(WATER TRICKLES)

(DISTANT GUNFIRE AND EXPLOSIONS)

(GUNSHOT)

(BUGLE PLAYS)

(Choir sings) There's a long, long trail a-winding

Into the land of my dreams

Where the nightingales are singing

And the pale moon beams

There's a long, long night of waiting

Until my dreams all come true

Till the day when I'll be going

Down that long, long trail with you.

(DRUMMING)

(JAUNTY MILITARY MUSIC)