Original subtitles

(MAN SHOUTING OUTSIDE, INDISTINCT)

(DOOR LOCK RATTLING)

What time is it?

Thanks.

You know who they brought in last night?

-Some flyer, I heard. -Oh, not just some flyer.

They got Tony Shaw.

-Are you certain? -Yeah. Positive.

Do you know him?

Well, only like the rest of us, by his reputation.

Squadron Leader Anthony Shaw.

Priority classification?

It seems the Oberkommando have as high an opinion

of Squadron Leader Shaw's danger to the Third Reich

as do his superiors in London.

You have to be more than just a flyer to get into photo reconnaissance.

Oh, let's face it, Simon, you've got to be some kind of nut.

I mean, you're miles behind enemy lines, no sort of defence or anything.

Yeah, well, thank God for nuts like Tony Shaw, that's all I can say.

Oh, yes. I didn't mean to denigrate him in any way...

Encore cafe, bitte, sir?

Oh, thank you, Hopkins.

(ALL SNICKERING)

What I don't understand is why they've sent him here, to Colditz.

I mean, straight off.

Because they know what they've got, that's why.

And they want to make damn sure of keeping him.

(SIGHS)

They won't, of course.

(BELL RINGING)

(CLANGS)

Old Ulmann's looking a bit worried this morning.

Can't say I blame him.

No question.

He knows who he's got, all right.

KOMMANDANT: Are you sure you will have nothing, Major?

Quite sure. Thank you, sir.

I have asked Hauptmann Ulmann to join us.

Perhaps I should tell you, though I will leave it to him to explain why,

that Ulmann is in favour of special measures for this prisoner.

-(KNOCKING ON DOOR) -Come.

-Everything in order, Ulmann? -Yes, sir.

Though I have a feeling the prisoners know. At least the British.

Well, that's hardly surprising, I suppose.

With respect, sir,

I regard it as surprising.

I find the assumption that the prisoners must know

as much of as we do ourselves a rather disturbing one.

I'm not aware that I have made any such assumption, Major.

Nor, I believe, has Hauptmann Ulmann.

Arrivals and departures have not

generally been matters of top security, sir.

Except unauthorised departures, like Player and Walsh, for example.

That goes without saying, Herr Major.

Please, sit down, gentlemen.

-Coffee, Ulmann? -No, thank you, sir. Very kind of you.

I would like you to tell Major Mohn your precise reasons

for advising extraordinary measures in the case of the new prisoner.

Certainly, sir.

My reasons are twofold. First,

the fact that Squadron Leader Shaw was sent direct to Colditz

indicates the importance that is attached to his safe detention

to the end of the war.

He is one of the most highly decorated men in the Allied Forces,

certainly the most decorated man in Colditz.

With the exception of yourself, sir.

Your second reason?

He will inevitably become a focal point for escape activity.

His presence alone must considerably benefit their morale.

And what are you suggesting? Solitary confinement permanently?

That is one way. It would eliminate all risk.

That seems a rather harsh expedient. Brutal, even.

Yes, sir. On consideration, I agree.

-There is an alternative. -KOMMANDANT: Hmm?

Might it not be possible, in the circumstances,

to classify this prisoner among the Prominente?

Highly irregular.

I appreciate that, sir.

The Prominente are prisoners held under special security

on the orders of the Fuhrer himself.

They are, without exception,

high-ranking Allied commanders

or members of politically significant families.

I cannot see how Squadron Leader Shaw, for all his military distinction,

can possibly fall into either category.

Surely, sir, under the circumstances...

We cannot make and unmake official regulations

at our own convenience, Hauptmann.

Major, your opinion?

I disagree entirely with Hauptmann Ulmann's approach, sir.

He wishes to make a special case of this prisoner.

But all prisoners here are special cases.

That is the purpose of Colditz. At least, as I have understood it.

It appears that the security officer takes a different view.

Faced with a prisoner he considers to be a real threat,

he feels obliged to take

desperate measures, that to me sounds like an admission of defeat.

Sir, with respect, this prisoner...

This prisoner? What about this prisoner,

this Squadron leader Shaw? Is he a superman?

-Sir, I merely wish to indicate... -You are merely saying that

Colditz is an insecure prison, that you are aware of the fact

and that you have seen fit to do nothing about it until now.

I think, Major, you are stating Hauptmann Ulmann's position

somewhat more extremely than he would himself.

I have no doubt, sir.

I also believe I am stating it more accurately.

Sir, every escape and escape attempt has been thoroughly analysed.

It is quite impossible that any could be repeated.

In other words, after a sufficient number of escapes have taken place,

you will at last feel confident that your precautions are adequate.

But how many prisoners must first escape? All of them?

Anything else, Major?

Yes, sir.

I believe that by keeping this man confined,

you will create something infinitely more potent

to the British mentality than a mere hero.

You will create a martyr.

And I do not believe we should confer that honour

on Squadron Leader Shaw or on any other prisoner.

I can only repeat what I have said, sir.

There is always a risk.

With my plan, I believe it to be eliminated.

I incline toward Major Mohn's view.

It is no part of our duty to create either heroes or martyrs here.

This man's reputation goes before him as a flyer.

Now, let's see how long it survives the confines of Colditz.

I suspect not long.

Sir, I take it my keeping a special watch on this prisoner

will in no way conflict with your orders?

A very sensible precaution, I would have thought,

until we know what to expect from the gentleman.

(MEN PLAYING FOOTBALL OUTSIDE)

But sir, if they've sent him straight to Colditz,

there can be only one explanation.

They consider him a top security risk.

Well, if they're admitting that,

they're going to be watching him like hawks.

Yes, sir. Well, that's all the more reason

to give Shaw's escape top priority.

And with morale the way it is...

I mean, if we can get him out of here under those conditions...

Well, you can see what it would do for everybody here!

Well, I think we ought to hear what Shaw has got to say first.

Yes, sir, but I just wanted to know if you agreed in principle?

I think you're being a little hasty, Simon.

We don't want to risk a botched-up job, do we?

Well, I think you can trust us to avoid a botched-up job, sir.

Yes. There's another thing, you know. I'm not at all sure

that I like the idea of star status for any prisoner, no matter who he is.

I think I'd sooner see Shaw take his place with the others,

let him find his own level.

You say he taught at Oxford before the war?

Yes, sir.

Well, he should fit in here quite nicely if he enjoys the cloistered life.

We'll let him make his own decisions in his own time.

Yes, sir.

How do you do, sir? Tim Downing.

(ALL CHATTERING EXCITEDLY)

Well, this is it, I'm afraid. Home sweet home.

It's an improvement on that cell.

They must have thought you'd try to break out on your first night here.

Maybe they thought he'd try to fly out.

You might as well take this bunk here.

Not too much in the way of home comforts, I'm afraid.

-Like being back at school. -(ALL LAUGHING)

Except they're a bit tight about the vacs here.

Oh, now, here's the man you must meet.

-Uh, Simon Carter, sir. -How do you do?

Well, I can hardly say it's good to have you here, sir,

but I think you know what I mean.

Thanks.

I'd like you to meet the Senior British Officer. That's Colonel Preston.

-If you like we could take a stroll... -(BELL RINGING)

(ALL PROTESTING)

Our Appel. Seems they're getting a bit jumpy. Can't think why.

(ALL LAUGHING)

(SPEAKING GERMAN)

British contingent, attention!

Dismiss!

Come on. We'll talk to Colonel Preston.

Squadron Leader Shaw.

How do you do, Shaw? Let's go to my quarters, shall we?

Why not just build a pedestal in the middle of the courtyard

and ask Mr Shaw if he'd be good enough to climb onto it?

I'm sorry, Carter, but that's how I feel.

I do not wish to be considered as a candidate for escape.

I'm not interested.

Well, now, look here, sir. We have certain...

I certainly don't intend to be pushed into anything unwillingly.

I'm not trying to push you, sir.

It's just I would have thought a man of your...

I believe I know the difference

between a risk worth taking and one that is not.

That, if I may say so, is why it has taken them so long to shoot me down.

I admit that you've proved that Colditz isn't escape-proof,

but how many have got away so far?

I mean, all the way back?

Can you count them on the fingers of one hand or two?

CARTER: Twenty men have made it, sir.

In four years?

Yes, sir. Eight Dutch, seven British, four Frenchmen and one Pole.

And two men got away a couple of months ago.

We haven't heard yet if they made it back.

But you're sleeping in one of their bunks.

Shaw, nobody wants to put pressure on you.

You've made your position quite clear and I respect it.

Thank you, sir.

You're not an ordinary prisoner, sir. I mean,

you saw it yourself just now in the courtyard.

I mean, like it or not, that's the way it is.

And your cooperation would mean a great deal, well, for general morale.

Are you trying to say it's my duty?

Yes, sir.

How does one lecture a man with his record about duty?

I see what you mean.

He says he's not made for teamwork.

Well, you've said as much yourself about those photo-recce boys.

He's just making an excuse, I think.

Perhaps he just wants a nice easy war from now on.

Easy? In this God-forsaken place?

Easier than escaping.

Yeah, but is it?

Isn't it harder to stick it out here?

(SIGHS) You know the answer to that, Simon.

Oh, I just wish he was with us, that's all.

Depressed, Mr Carter?

I wonder why that could be?

You were looking so pleased with yourself this morning.

Hold on. Just a minute.

Like it or not, Simon,

it is his duty, same as the rest of us,

to keep bastards like that pinned down here for the duration.

Shaw may have been an ace flyer,

but he's a prisoner now.

And someone ought to tell him it's wrong.

The Victorian novel is basically about two things,

getting on in life and money.

Now, most of them were written, first of all, as weekly serials.

So they had to hold their audience with a good story

that meant something immediate to the average reader.

That's not as cynically commercial as it sounds,

because within that framework

they managed to explore virtually every aspect of human relationships.

-Even sex was there. -(ALL LAUGHING)

Yes. Heavily disguised, of course,

as swirling water, with the heroine drowning in terror,

and the hero churning to the rescue

astride a plank of wood with a large paddle.

It was true. You see, the point I'm making is this,

that literature is never something divorced from life,

whether as an entertainment or as a work of art.

On the contrary, it arises out of a desire

to express one's feelings about life

and to increase one's understanding of it.

So, let's turn to...

I'm sorry. I didn't mean to interrupt. Please, go on.

Oh, we're, uh...

We're talking about the Victorian novel.

Ah! Rather my subject.

-Why don't you join us? -I'd be delighted.

Excellent. My name is James Porteous. How do you do?

Let me introduce everybody. This is Harry...

No, please, stay where you are. We'll pick up names as we go along.

Please continue, Porteous. I'll just sit and listen.

Well, I think, perhaps, sir, you might do better than that.

I mean, you have admitted that it is your subject. There we are.

You're not going to set me to work already?

(ALL LAUGHING)

Ah, nobody here. So we can talk.

-It's not bad, is it? -I wouldn't have believed it.

Eh, what shall I do with this lot?

Oh, just put them on the table. I'll see to them.

So you were a schoolmaster before the war?

Eh, yes.

Yes. I had hoped for a university post, like yourself,

but well, it didn't work out.

And I enjoy teaching, wherever it is.

-Even here, by the look of it. -Yeah, especially here.

What you might call a captive audience.

(PORTEOUS LAUGHING)

I presume this library's for the use of everyone?

Oh, yes. And you'd be surprised how many make use of it,

despite all those stairs.

Security, I suppose.

Hmm?

Oh, no covers, you mean.

Yes, that used not to happen until the Germans discovered

that certain people were smuggling in contraband inside false covers.

Maps, German money,

-even hacksaw blades. -Ah.

So now the censors strip every book that comes in.

Bloody philistines.

-To tell the truth, I'm glad. -Mmm?

Well, I don't like it, naturally not. I mean, books being torn apart.

But if it means that those of us who are not interested in escaping

can get on with what we want to do, without serving as a...

a front for Flight Lieutenant Carter and his crowd, then well and good.

Do I gather you disapprove of Flight Lieutenant Carter and his crowd?

Well, no, I don't disapprove, no.

But what I resent is the suggestion that the rest of us,

the vast majority, I might add,

exist only to serve their needs.

-And has that ever been suggested? -Oh, by implication, yes.

Yes. All this stuff about it being a prisoner's duty to escape.

All that means is

that any man who spends his time digging tunnels that come out nowhere,

or cutting his way through a barbed wire fence and getting shot for his trouble,

is a better man than the rest of us.

And I just don't believe that's true.

Nor do I.

But I thought everyone here was supposed to be a potential escaper.

Oh, potential, yes.

I mean, I escaped, twice, while I was in transit.

Well, it just happened. Easily.

But now I'm in Colditz.

Have you thought of the odds of getting out of here?

And yet they go on trying.

Yes.

A handful.

The desperadoes, I call them.

But why?

Because it is something to do.

That's the biggest danger here. Not the Germans. Boredom.

Our problem is survival.

Staying sane and helping others to stay sane. Thinking. Preparing.

There's going to be a hell of a lot to do when we get out of here.

We'll be needed.

And that's where my thoughts are,

on the job ahead.

I suppose that's the mainstay of my,

uh, morale is the word, isn't it?

Do you know what morale is?

It's what you get drunk on when you can't get alcohol.

All I'm asking is that you give it a try!

I'm sorry, Chalky, but it's just out of the question.

What harm can it do?

I mean, the worst that can happen is I won't even get over the wire.

Well, if that were the case, I'd have no objection.

Then I don't understand...

Every escape, every attempted escape,

has meant a tightening up of security.

When Player and Walsh went, that was one more hole plugged,

one less chance for the next man.

Now, if that's the price we've got to pay,

we've got to make sure that every plan has a chance,

and a good chance of success. It's only fair on everyone else.

Well, according to you, we might as well all give up.

-That's not what we meant. -Excuse me if that's how it sounds!

Look, Simon, I really don't think there's any point in going on with this.

-I agree! -Now, wait...

MAN: Scramble! Ulmann.

(KNOCKING ON DOOR)

Don't disturb yourselves, gentlemen.

Oh, don't worry, Hauptmann, we won't.

Are you looking for something?

Why don't you try the library, mmm?

(DOOR CLOSES)

For God's sake!

What's the point, Simon?

We all know who he's looking for.

Yeah. Ironic, isn't it?

There I was thinking he was the best thing for morale

since Red Cross parcels,

and he just turns into a liability.

They're starting to say that if a man like Tony Shaw

doesn't think he can get out of here,

then what chance have the rest of us got?

No need for further surveillance?

It's been only a week, sir. But the pattern seems established.

He spends his mornings taking a class in literature

and his afternoons reading or writing.

In fact, I sense a distinct hostility

between Mr Shaw and some of the high-risk prisoners.

It could be a cover, of course.

The prisoner expects to be watched and behaves accordingly.

It is possible, sir.

But you think unlikely?

I think we should remain cautious, sir.

Very wise decision.

Thank you, sir.

Of course, it could be...

I would like to think so, in this case,

it could be that the academic temperament

has triumphed over heroic ambition.

Who knows?

(BOTH TOASTING IN GERMAN)

(BREATHING HEAVILY)

Good afternoon, Major.

What a surprise.

Bronte. Emily Bronte.

She was a novelist. In my opinion, an excellent one.

A woman?

Some of our finest writers have been women.

Does that surprise you?

Why should it? They have little else to do.

You are preparing your next lesson, presumably?

Yes.

Are you planning to take over from Mr Porteous

as schoolmaster-in-residence?

Not take over, help a little.

But you are the more highly qualified, are you not?

Yes. Strictly speaking, that is so.

And the senior officer?

And yet you are prepared to work under him.

Not under him, with him.

And what kind of man do you find your Mr Porteous?

An admirable man, in many ways.

-Hmm? -You disagree?

Well, the least troublesome of prisoners.

I am pleased to see you follow his example,

though frankly I'm surprised.

-Oh? -From your record.

War hero turned schoolmaster?

Or perhaps it was a case of schoolmaster turned war hero, now reverting to type.

If you think there's any difference.

You seem to imply that there's something special,

something extraordinary about what you call the ''war hero''.

But it simply isn't true, is it?

Then why are there not more?

Luck. Good, bad or both.

I want you to know that I'm not taken in by all this.

I don't understand. Taken in by what?

This, uh, pose you have chosen to adopt.

The, uh, the bookish academic.

Some may be deceived. Not me. I thought I should warn you.

Thank you. But it's not a pose.

I find that impossible to believe.

Why, if I might ask, Major?

Because I know too well what goes into the kind of service record you have.

-For instance? -Courage. Resolution.

To prove yourself worthy of the thing you believe in.

Thing?

Or person?

At any rate, to prove yourself.

Yes, Mr Shaw. To prove yourself.

There are other reasons for doing things,

apart from proving yourself.

Doing something for its own sake. Doing it well. Not to prove anything.

Even doing it badly, perhaps.

You are speaking of yourself.

All I've proved is that it's possible for the most ordinary man

to become a war hero.

Not the most special, the most ordinary.

I learned to fly before the war.

It was a rich man's hobby, I learned as the guest of a rich friend.

I knew I was competent. Better than competent, but not special.

On top of that, I knew I had a clear head.

It's my job, thinking clearly about literature.

Well, come the war, I put the two together.

Clear head, flying.

And the marriage worked. Better than my own.

That's all it is, this heroism.

Of course, I'm not comparing myself with you, Major.

I had not supposed you were.

You are a fighting man, a professional soldier.

Whereas I, photographic-reconnaissance, am hardly more than an observer.

It would seem you took too close a look, Mr Shaw,

since here you are.

Nobody's infallible.

That is true.

Here we both are.

An invalid guarding a schoolmaster.

(GASPING)

Help!

(MEN GROANING)

(HOLLAND CRYING OUT)

-CARTER: Hey, Tim, do something... -(DOWNING SHUSHING)

George. George! George!

-(GASPING) Help! -George.

-(HOLLAND GRUNTING) -You all right?

What's the matter?

Just had a nightmare, old man, that's all.

(GASPING) I, uh... Sorry.

-(COUGHING) -It's all right. Do you feel better?

(SIGHING) I'm sorry.

(WHIMPERING)

-Very positive conclusion, Major. -Yes, sir.

I have never known a priority classification more inappropriate.

You don't think there's any possibility of his attempting to mislead us?

None, sir.

What makes you so certain?

The man is without honour, sir.

Harry, what would you say about that?

(SIGHING)

May I think about it?

(ALL LAUGHING)

Why not? The author did for 20 years. But I'm glad you're enjoying...

(MEN CHATTERING LOUDLY)

I suggest we find a corner somewhere.

That is if anybody wants to carry on.

Oh, look, sorry we're driving you out, old man.

It's all right. Why don't you come and join us?

Yes, I'd like to. It'd make a change from concussion.

-DOWNING: Oh, sorry! -See what I mean?

-MAN: Where's that ball? -Throw it again.

I'm sorry to butt in. I'm just going for a small literary chat.

Feed the mind, you know.

I won't keep you from it. I wondered if we could have five minutes.

-Now? -Yeah, if you don't mind.

-Of course. Well, another time, then. -Fine.

-You'll be welcome. -Thank you.

(MEN CHATTERING)

What was all that about?

-Oh, Simon wanted a word with him. -Not before time.

I was just going to join his English class.

(LAUGHING) What, you?

Well, if he talks anything like Simon says he flies,

he must be worth listening to.

(BOTH LAUGHING)

Look, Carter, these fellows accept me for what I am.

I'm doing no harm, conceivably some good.

Yes, but the men will accept you for whatever you choose.

I mean, that's just my point.

I'm afraid I don't follow.

Well, I'm asking you to give your moral support,

nothing more, to those of us who are trying to get chaps out of here.

We've been through this already, I don't know how many...

I'm not asking you to do anything, Just give your support.

(MEN CHATTERING EXCITEDLY)

I mean, look at them in there, they're knocking themselves out

like punch bags to stop from going crazy.

They're losing the feeling that at least there's some hope

that this place isn't unbreakable. I mean, it was something to aim for.

Carter, it's your problem.

I'm not going to try and sell them something I don't believe in.

Maybe a few have got away. Maybe a few more will.

But for everybody else, it's as much an impossible dream

as waking up a millionaire and married to Mae West.

If anyone asks me, that's what I'll say.

I've got better things to do than to play any part in your cheap heroics.

The odds are unrealistic. It's a waste of time.

Do you always calculate everything like an adding machine?

If you like, I do, yes.

Yeah, well, maybe you're calculating on winning all round in this war.

I mean, you're already pretty solid back home.

Maybe if things go the other way, you'll get a medal from Hitler.

For good behaviour.

No, Simon, I will not talk to him.

Sir, as Senior British Officer...

As Senior British Officer I will not abuse that position.

I think escape is a matter for individual judgement.

I will only intervene when someone

is deliberately obstructing an escape attempt.

As far as I can see, all Squadron Leader Shaw wants

is to be left alone.

I've been thinking of learning Polish.

-Polish? -(LAUGHS) Something to do.

Then I thought, ''Hell, I'm pretty well illiterate in my own language,

''so why bother with another?''

What do you talk about in these sessions?

Oh, anything. Everything.

I may do a correspondence course next.

Law. You know, set up as a solicitor when this lot's over.

Which reminds me, I must talk to Tommy Adams about that.

And why not?

Uh, look here, sir, I...

I owe you an apology. I had no right to say what I did.

Then let's forget it.

(LOUD CLATTERING)

So I suggest you read through the passages I've marked

and let me have your notes tomorrow.

-Sir. All right. -All right? Bye.

Do you know how many books there are that have been written here?

-In Colditz? -How many?

-Three hundred, at least. -All about the war?

Oh, lord, no. Mostly it's men Just putting their thoughts onto paper

for the first time in their lives.

It's a kind of mental exercise.

Well, from today, it's going to be 301 .

Yes, and the first with a full-time, unpaid research assistant.

-There we are. -Thanks.

You know, James, I couldn't wish for anything more.

All I need to write the one book I've been meaning to write

ever since I was a student, if only I could find the time.

You've found the time now.

What kind of book?

Nineteenth century English literature, sir.

Well, the manuscript will be thoroughly examined for any trace of code.

With respect, sir, there's no danger.

He says he does not want to publish until after the war,

so he'll take it with him when he's released.

Simon, will you come?

-What is it? -In the dorm.

(WHIMPERING)

Simon, before we realised, he was just tearing them up.

Got through half the papers in the mattress.

(SIGHING HEAVILY)

(GRUNTS)

Captain Holland, this will not happen again,

because in future you won't know where these things are kept.

In the meantime, I suggest you pull yourself together.

You're not the first officer who's had an escape plan turned down, you know.

That was rather my point, sir.

Yes. All right, you can go.

-Sir... -Yes, all right, Simon, I know,

but that man is far too near cracking for me to read the Riot Act to him.

I'll have to have the doc keep an eye on him in future.

Yeah, well, I could never have okayed that cockeyed scheme of his.

No, I realise that.

Anyway, he's no longer a candidate for escape.

Well, he's like a lot of chaps here, sir.

I mean, he'd make a jolly good member of an escape team.

If only we had some project to work on.

Ah! How's it going?

I'm more out of touch than I thought. Have to do a lot of re-reading.

Well, I suppose you'd find...

The main problem is distractions!

No privacy.

How do most of them manage?

Oh, best they can. Odd corners.

Then I must find one.

Yes, well, I... I'll leave you to it.

Uh, we're looking at, uh, at Eliot if you'd like to...

Right, I'll see you.

(DOOR CLOSING)

(SIGHING)

''Because I know that time is always time

''And place is always and only place

''And what is actual is actual only for one time

''And only for one place

''I rejoice that things are as they are

''and I renounce the blessed face

''And renounce the voice

''Because I cannot hope to turn again

''Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something

''Upon which to rejoice.

''And pray to...''

(DOOR SLAMMING SHUT)

He's starting to give me the creeps.

Shaw!

(PIGEONS WARBLING)

Shaw!

Odd, quiet corners, you said.

-What in God's name is this? -What does it look like? It's a roof.

I had no idea.

You mean, you never saw that grid down there?

Well, yes, but I thought it was some kind of a... I don't know,

ventilation.

There's a proper staircase over there with a door at the bottom. Locked.

This must've been some sort of escape route once,

into what is now the library.

Well, it's a large castle.

What... What are you doing?

I've been re-reading them. Rubbish, the whole damn lot. Rubbish.

I can't do it, James. It just isn't there.

Well, give it time! You've barely started.

I started five years ago. I didn't mention that.

I always swore that after I got my fellowship at Oxford and security,

I was going to write this book.

All the college politics, the wheeling and the dealing,

were just preparation for this book and others to follow.

Great works of criticism, original, illuminating.

But I was just putting it off.

And when I finally tried, like now...

nothing there.

-Listen to me... -No, I... I want to explain.

Please try to understand that I have no originality.

I can absorb other men's ideas, pass them on, teach,

but I have none of my own.

Nothing to say that hasn't been said a thousand times already

and better.

I thought maybe now it would be different.

Now that I...

(INHALES DEEPLY)

Mohn was right.

Mohn?

And so was I, maybe.

I'm not so different from him.

Only very ordinary men need to prove themselves.

All I've proved is that I needed to prove something.

It hasn't changed me.

And the truth is,

God help me,

I still need it.

The gongs, the acclamation.

I like being what they want me to be.

It's all I can be.

(SHAW GRUNTS)

Well, I don't know what I can say...

except that you're wrong.

Look, I know that...

Look, what do you think about this?

Not bad, eh? It's my notes again. Best end to them.

SHAW: Launching would be a problem, of course,

but it should be possible with some kind of heavy weight.

And just, uh, well, shoot the thing off the bloody roof.

(ALL LAUGHING)

I don't want to bore you gentlemen

with a whole lot of mathematical calculations,

but I can assure you they are sound.

It's a 32-foot span, giving a wing area of 1 62 square feet.

The rudder here, that's the only part of the design which isn't original,

that's the Luton Buzzard model.

-(ALL LAUGHING) -Fantastic!

So luckily, I found all kinds of stuff in the library.

Newtons, airframes, aircraft designs...

Things Jerry thought we'd have no use for, yeah?

Yeah, well, technically, there are very few problems.

Uh, raw materials, of course,

but basically it's just a matter of time and manpower.

-You'll get that, all right. -Where did you come up with this idea?

The other day when I found this place above the library.

We build a false wall, then we have the perfect workshop.

Open up the roof down one side,

and it's a straight 300-yard glide to the river.

(ALL LAUGH)

I'd begun to think there was no way out, and suddenly I saw that.

-And what's all this about? -Oh, just, uh, showing some drawings.

Isn't this something you should've kept for the escape committee?

Oh, sorry, didn't think.

You're surely not going to turn this one down, Simon.

Well, unlike Squadron Leader Shaw,

I'm prepared to wait for the committee's decision.

-Look, Simon, this was just... -What?

Nothing, forget it.

Damn it, Simon, this is the most spectacular escape

anyone's come up with yet,

and you're quibbling about our bloody committee?

Most of them are here now, why don't you ask them what they think?

The escape committee meets tonight.

Until then, I've got nothing to say. And I trust no one else has.

All right, so we had no right to go behind Simon's back.

But it's a brilliant idea!

-Well, don't you think so? -I know it is.

Anyway, that's the idea. Some enormous weight, it'll go...

Boom! Whoosh!

A glider? Good God.

He had plans, material.

I mean, he's got the whole thing worked out to the last detail.

What did you say?

Well, it's just about the most ridiculous scheme I've ever heard.

You turned him down?

No, sir, but I shall have to advise the escape committee against it.

-Why? -Well, after the way he's behaved?

His behaviour has nothing to do with the merits of his plan.

Nor of the reasons for changing his mind, whatever they might be.

Well, I find it pretty hard to swallow, this attitude of his,

that he can just come along in his own sweet time

and expect the rest of us to jump at his say-so.

I see, if he'd come along in your sweet time and at your say-so,

-you'd have backed this plan, would you? -That's not what I meant, sir.

Surely he's only asking for what you attempted to force on him

when he first came here. ''Absolute priority'' I think is what you said.

As I recall, sir, it was you that said you were opposed to...

''star status'', I think you called it, for one individual prisoner.

Now he comes along and he wants 50 men to work for God knows how many months

Just to get him out of here. One man!

-What do you call that? -If the men are willing.

You mean you back him up?

I shall back whatever decision the escape committee arrive at.

But I'm not going to turn this down out of hand, if that's what you expect.

Carter didn't stand a chance. Not once I put it to the chaps.

(LAUGHS) He tried to argue that it was a hell of a lot of work

to put into one man's escape, but I trumped him there.

I point out it's a two-seat glider.

The passenger can be anyone the committee votes in.

They'll all be working for it.

-So, you're all set, hmm? -All set.

Uh, James...

-Hmm? -There's something I have to tell you.

You won't like it.

I'm afraid you're going to have to provide cover.

Cover?

How do you mean?

This. It's the only way in.

But you said there was another door.

At the far end...

Locked. And on the same floor as some Kraut's office.

All the materials and men would have to come through here.

No.

I'm sorry, James, but there's nothing I can do.

My God, Shaw, haven't you done enough without destroying this place?

It's the only place in the whole damn building!

PRESTON: Captain Porteous.

I can't allow anyone to disrupt an escape attempt.

In that case, sir, I suggest that we close the library altogether.

No, James, I'm sorry, I don't think you understand.

The library must appear to function as usual,

and I shall rely upon you to see that it does.

-Is that an order, sir? -Yes, that is an order.

-It's this way, sir. -Thank you.

PRESTON: The screw comes out, does it?

MAN: Mind your head.

(MEN CHATTERING)