Original subtitles

I'm not asking for anything other than permission, and 60 men.

Men I will choose according to my own criteria.

If you decide to join them, I will join the SAS too.

Dearest Mirren, you know I love you.

I know I could make you so happy.

If you go out in this, it will be suicide!

Who?

McGonagal, sir.

What is it about Stirling that you dislike so much?

I invented the SAS.

He had no right to destroy it on its first mission.

We have a second chance.

Let's see what the stars have in store for us.

That's Paddy Mayne in Tamet.

And here am I in the dark and silence in Sirte.

Well, it's not a competition, sir.

Of course it is.

Ooh, I say… Let the games begin.

Faster now, come on!

Sadler! Come on, catch him!

How do you like these, Paddy?

Come on!

Woo-hoo-hoo-hoo!

Where the hell did you learn to drive like that, Paddy Mayne?

Now, we will break off into four units

as before.

I'm guessing it's the same teams as the last time

we attacked these same airstrips?

Just to keep the scoring system fair.

No.

Different teams, same team leaders

because this whole exercise, the whole North Africa campaign

is about my team versus your team, Paddy.

Aye. Just as long as that is clear.

Gentlemen, this is a theatre of war, not a playground

and this time, it will be different cos now the Germans are expecting us.

Every airstrip will be on high alert.

Even more fun, Jock.

So, now, perhaps…

double points for each plane destroyed?

Lewes, you will take Almonds and Riley to Nofilia airstrip.

Fraser! — I want no part in this idiotic game.

You will go with Lewes, but take four men

and break off at the airstrip to attack the airfield to the west.

And, Paddy, just as the last time

you will take Tamet

and I will take Sirte.

Round two then, sir.

Oh, yes, round two!

Can I come on your team then, sir?

Course you can, sweetheart.

You stick with Uncle Paddy.

Oh, she's a keen kitten, she is.

And whoever destroys the most aeroplanes tonight

will win a bottle of 20-year-old

single malt Scotch whisky!

Oh, my father's favourite.

Now, I carry it with me in case I am fatally wounded.

Now I'm offering it as a prize…

in our game.

Paddy, you've had a lot of whisky in your time.

Nothing as good as this

considering your humble background.

Shall I stand between you two fucking idiots like a headmaster?

Myself, I prefer a poteen

distilled in bathtubs.

But I will gladly take this piss off your hands when I win, sir.

OK, men, check your weapons.

David.

What's this idiotic nonsense about a game?

No commanding officer has ever been able to control Paddy Mayne

because none of them understood him.

He will fight against me come what may, but now…

he will try to attain dominance by destroying enemy aircraft

which is essential if we don't want Tobruk to fall.

Yes, but is it really clever strategy, David?

Or do you just want to win the game?

What time is it?

Two minutes to midnight.

We need to wait for the moon to set.

Let's wait here for the moon to set.

Four miles to the airstrip, coast road's just over that ridge.

We can't risk the vehicles any further.

Fuck the moon.

There you are, sir. Let's go.

The cheeky bastards have put up fences.

Aye, cheeky fucks.

But it'll make it more fun this time.

Paddy, we should wait for the moon to set. They'll see us.

No. The moon is our friend.

Patience is our enemy.

And besides

those who'd see us will soon be dead.

Listen.

Just as I thought, fences and searchlights this time.

Riley… I want you to read this.

Um…

I'm not religious, sir.

If you're unable to read the print

the light will be sufficiently bad for us to move.

Pass it here, Pat.

It's my favourite.

And, uh, what are you doing, sir?

We have at least 15 more minutes, So you read your bible…

I'm going to pray in my own way.

My dearest Mirren.

It has been two weeks since I sent you my letter of marriage proposal.

I'm imagining that ! haven't received your response

because of faults in the mail service.

We are now based on the planet Mars

and mail comes once every blue moon.

And speaking of the moon

every time I look at it, I think of you.

So damn corny, isn't it?

Like one of those awful Hollywood films.

But the moon gives me hope that something so cold and remote

can appear beautiful.

I believe I too am considered cold and remote by some

but I am hoping that you might also consider me, if not beautiful

then at least dependable.

And I hope that your answer to my proposal will be yes.

The light died just after "thou shalt not kill," sir.

Well…

I can tell you the full commandment.

It's "thou shalt not Kill…

except in a very good cause."

Every day, Hitler sends innocents to their deaths.

So we have a very good cause.

Fraser, take your men west.

We go east. - Go well, sir.

Good luck, boys.

All the best, lads.

Fuck. Fuck.

German reinforcements, heading to Agheila to join Rommel.

We can't reach Sirte airstrip without crossing that road.

Fuck.

Only five Messerschmitts on the strip.

Meaning what?

Five is five.

Five Messerschmitts taken out of action.

British lives saved.

Yes, sir.

I only wish there were more.

I don't care about the scores on the blackboard, none of us do.

Good.

Only monsters would keep count.

If that's Rommel's main relief column…

there'll be no break for three hours. There'll be a break.

German troops stay tight to prevent—-

There will be a bloody break, Sadler.

I will get a break.

I am owed a fucking break.

A wee light show for Stirling.

Bad dog.

Looks like Paddy's lit another bonfire.

Bravo.

What the fuck has he blown up?

Whatever it is, I imagine there's little doubt

about the destination of my father's favourite whisky.

My father would be very proud.

That's it. Road's clear, that's the last of them.

What time is it?

4:26.

Sunrise is at 4:40.

It's another 20-minute march to Sirte airstrip.

Ah, it's too late.

Looks like Lewes and Fraser have had some success too.

Bravo.

Bravo.

Of course, of course.

The road became clear when it was already too late.

Or imagine a more amusing possibility

the road became clear because it was too late.

Therein lies a crucial philosophical distinction.

In The liad, Homer wrote

"Fate is born with us.

No man escapes it, neither brave man nor coward."

What do you say, Sadler?

I say no one is talking of bravery or cowardice.

Indeed.

No one is talking at all.

If you see a brown stone, lads

stay away from it.

Stirling!

Wee Johnny.

I wanna write down the scores.

Why don't you leave it alone, Paddy?

Reg. 24 plus 277?

Fifty…

one.

Scare the Jerries off, that.

Whew.

Even though they took extra precautions

I think we did rather well.

Wires, dogs…

wide-eyed boys notwithstanding.

What caused all the fireworks?

Five thousand gallons of aviation fuel.

Ah.

I'm not counting that in my tally.

What about you?

Who's getting the whisky?

The prize has gone, Paddy.

Some of it I drank, the rest shot to pieces.

Decided it was a worthless gesture.

My strategy was ugly and vain

and a bottle of whisky is not a fitting reward

for the resourcefulness and courage you have shown

over two very dangerous assignments.

So…

I'm going to recommend to GHQ

that you be awarded

the Distinguished Service Order Medal, and that you…

be promoted to the rank of Captain.

Congratulations, Captain Mayne.

The Special Air Service's first combat medal

and first promotion.

Three cheers for Captain Paddy Mayne!

The mad bastard at Tamet strip.

Hip, hip… - Hooray!

Hip, hip…

Hooray!

Now you can try wearing the mantle of power yourself

you useless Irish cunt.

You see, you…

you are the first commanding officer

that I have ever actually liked.

Hmm.

Where the hell is Lewes?

Mirren?

Mirren?

What are you doing?

I was asking my dear departed grandmother a question.

What question?

You're being very mysterious.

Where are we going?

My grandmother said yes.

So let's do it.

In the back of the car.

It's what all the young people in America do, apparently.

Um…

Remember…

you have to pull out.

I will, my love. I will.

I love you, Mirren.

Oh, Lord.

What?

Quickly.

For God's sake. - What do I do?

Like this? - Yes.

Quicker.

Goodness.

Such a lot.

What?

Now you are ruined?

My dress is ruined.

Well, Mirren…

when we're married, there will be no need for strategic withdrawals.

You always resort to military terms when you're embarrassed.

Did you hear me?

I said, when we're married.

Jock…

Enemy aircraft, due south!

Everyone, fan out!

Watch out!

Almonds, head for the rocks!

Everyone out! Fan out!

Grab your weapons, find cover!

Get the Bren gun!

Scatter! Everybody scatter!

Go!

Get down, sir, there's another plane!

We obviously made ourselves something of a priority.

How flattering.

Almonds, take cover!

Jim, come on!

Fuck off!

Are you hit, sir?

They're swinging back round!

Agh!

Are you OK, sir?

Just head for the rocks!

I'll meet you there.

Sir, you have to run! Run!

Run… Walk would be a fine thing.

Sir! Are you OK?

Sir!

Sir!

Do you need help?

We'll come and get you!

Get back behind the rock!

They're coming again!

Jock.

In answer to your proposal, my love…

I'm afraid I have to say no.

How can I marry a man who's already dead?

No.

No.

No…

Mirren.

No.

I'm not dead.

I'm alive.

Mirren…

I'm not dead, Mirren!

I'll be with you in a moment…

Quickly as I can.

Sir! Sir, you're hurt!

Wait, I'll come to you!

No! You will not go down there, that's a fucking order!

I will not let you die!

Stay.

Stop! Jim! Come back!

Sir, keep coming!

Almost there, darling.

There's only one vehicle.

I wonder if the Germans have a blackboard.

Everyone alright, lads?

You alright, fellas?

Get 'em a drink.

Jock didn't make it.

What… what d'you mean?

What do you mean?

What do you think I mean?

No. Where is he?

He's fucking dead.

Hey, hey!

Where is he?

He's where he fell.

You left him?

I left him on your orders!

On SAS orders! S-A-fucking-S protocol!

You! On your fucking order!

"Do not attempt to retrieve the bodies of the fallen

as it will impede swift execution of the given mission," sir.

He's a bloody mess…

out in the sand.

Which is where we're all…

we are all gonna be, now that Jerry's onto us.

I actually… didn't believe Jock Lewes was human.

Sir, put out your cigarette.

Sir, put out your cigarette!

Fuck off!

Fuck off!

He died well.

Sand.

Sand, quick.

So…

only the dreamer and the madman left.

Who the fuck is gonna be the sensible one now?

Dear Jock.

I received your letter this morning

and I danced.

I actually danced with the letter in my hand, as if it was you I was dancing with.

Of course I will marry you, Jock.

Of course I will.

Parade!

Parade, turn!

Morning, gentlemen.

- Morning, sir. - He said good morning, gentlemen.

Good morning, sir!

Like fucking primary school.

Relax.

Well, if this is primary school

I've had a message from the headmaster

General Auchinleck himself.

But…

before I tell you what he has to say

the period of mourning for Lieutenant Jock Lewes is over.

Cooper. Hoist the flag.

Sir!

Auchinleck expresses his astonishment at the success

that we have achieved in such a short space of time.

Having destroyed 90 enemy aircraft…

we have exceeded the number destroyed by the RAF

by a factor of three.

Fuck!

Paddy Mayne's… DSO has been confirmed

and he has been promoted to the rank of Captain.

Sir!

It's not working.

Right. Seekings, help that poor boy now.

Fucking gladly, sir.

Fraser has been awarded the Military Cross.

Rope snagged, is it? - Yeah.

And I have been promoted to the rank of Major.

Not so sure about that, Cooper. I think it's the wheel.

It's the fucking rope, you oaf!

Oi! Talk to me like that, I will knock your bleedin' block off.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

In the bigger picture, against the odds

we now have the initiative…

this success is in thanks, in no small part

to the work that you, the men of the SAS

have carried out.

We achieve our success

because we do things differently.

We achieve our goals in our own way.

Fuck wheels, fuck ropes.

Just tie the fucking thing!

And in recognition of your startling successes

GHQ have awarded you all five days' leave.

We may not be an official regiment, but…

when you make your way to your bars and brothels in Cairo

you will all be wearing one of these.

Cap badges by Bob Tait.

The flaming sword is the legendary sword Excalibur.

The new jump wings…

were designed by Jock.

Those of you that can read will have read the motto on our badge.

Now, Paddy, since you have embodied the words best

I will leave it to you to say them.

The new motto of the Special Air Service is…

"Drink rum, fight dirty

fuck the rules."

The new motto is…

"Who Dares Wins."

Who Dares… Wins.

And we will continue to dare.

There are trucks on the way

to take you all to Cairo.

Wear the beret on your head

and a condom on your massive cocks.

That'll be all.

Mutinous Irish cunt

requesting permission not to travel to Cairo, sir.

"Bless 'Em All" by George Formby

♪ They say there's a troopship just leaving Bombay ♪

♪ Bound for old Blighty shore ♪

♪ Heavily laden with time expired men ♪

♪ Bound for the land they adore ♪

♪ There's many an airman just finishing his time ♪

♪ There's many a twerp signing on ♪

♪ You'll get no promotion this side of the ocean ♪

♪ So cheer up, my lads, bless ‘em all ♪

Here, lads, who ordered the fucking ice cream cones here?

So what's the white bonnet represent then, ladies?

Are you girl scouts?

Let me see that. - Ho-ho!

Well done to you, that, lad. Shouldn't have done that.

What d'you think?

Which one of you lovely ladies wants to take me to Ascot, eh?

For Ladies Day?

What?

Remember, Davey boy

even though we can't understand a fucking word

these Scotch wankers say…

they are British

and we're not allowed to kill them.

Oh, for fuck's sake.

Can't bear this thing fucking complaining.

Fuck off.

- Jesus.

I'm sorry.

You're joking.

What the fuck's going on, Reg?

They don't like the colour of our berets!

Anybody else has an opinion on our fucking headgear, please step forward.

MPs incoming!

Although, I have to say, regarding the colour of the new beret

they do have a point.

I hear your new detachment's doing very well.

It isn't really my detachment.

It's Jock's detachment.

I suppose now it is mine.

Belongs to me and that…

madman.

Here. — Thank you.

If you don't like canaries in cages, why did you get one?

Uh… so I can set it free.

You might think I'm compassionate.

Are you not compassionate?

No. I don't think I am.

To your victories.

Oh.

Though you look like someone who is losing.

Yes.

I am a boy playing a game while my father watches

as he always did.

If I don't score the most tries or make the most runs

he won't speak to me all the way home.

Just the sound of the car engine, the windscreen wipers

and the thunderous roar of his silence.

Let's go out for a drink.

What's the rush?

No rush, I just wanna see the sunset from the balcony of the Empire Club.

Well, I would… I would, uh…

rather stay here.

OK.

The truth…

there is someone I want you to meet.

Oh. — Tonight.

Top secret.

And there was me thinking that you were with me because you liked me.

I'm trying very hard to only like you.

Come.

Eoin!

Eoin!

Your body's meat.

Your spirit's here, I think.

I was gonna read you Homer or Keats

but then I thought, fuck that.

I think I used to bore you with it and you were just being polite.

You remember that… that idiotic Percy French song we used to sing?

I'll sing you the Percy French thing and we'll have a laugh.

♪ We'll cross the ditch, our leader said ♪

♪ And take the foe in flank ♪

♪ But yells of consternation then arose from every rank ♪

♪ For posted high upon a tree, we very plainly saw ♪

♪ Trespassers prosecuted in accordance with the law ♪

♪ We're foiled, exclaimed bold Slattery ♪

♪ Here ends our grand campaign ♪

♪ Tis merely throwing life away to face that mearin' drain ♪

♪ Now, I'm not as brave as lions but I'm braver than the hen ♪

♪ And he who fights and runs away will live to fight again ♪

Oh, to run away, eh, Eoin?

Oh, how grand a life it would be to be a coward.

To love life that much.

We'll sleep here tonight, I think.

Dear God, I do hope this isn't your little surprise.

Oh!

No, it isn't.

He's seen us.

And he's drunk.

Stirling.

Major Stirling now, I hear.

Although I believe you personally have achieved nothing.

I have something for you.

Seems my phantom regiment has a new ethos.

"Who Dares Wins."

Where the fuck did you get that?

Someone picked it off a barroom floor after a brawl.

My great friend, the Commissariat of the Cairo Police

tells me there were seven fights resulting in injury

across the redlight district of Cairo since 10 o'clock this morning.

Six of them involving men wearing the SAS beret.

Yes, they are men who will not back down if they are insulted.

Oh, I see.

And the choice of colour was deliberate?

Mr Clarke, Eve and I are planning to have dinner.

You chose white to provoke confrontation.

You see, my dear

there's nothing like a barroom brawl to bring men together.

Good for company morale.

Mr Clarke, I am asking you politely.

Leave us alone.

You are a specimen.

You've achieved nothing

yet you have the audacity to re-design my regiment's jump wings.

Thank you…

for bringing the SAS into being.

Thank you for returning the beret.

Now fuck off.

You'd better get her to teach you some French, old boy.

The French are coming your way, and they…

are the real deal.

♪ Doo-wop, doo-wop, doo-wop, doo-wop ♪

♪ Doo-wow! ♪

What did he mean?

French coming my way?

Let's dance.

What the fuck is this all about?

Perhaps you should ask General Auchinleck.

He just arrived.

General.

Miss Mansour, how do you do?

Oui.

A little.

Well, uh, for business, I'd prefer to use English.

General Auchinleck, what brings you here?

Well, your success brings us here

and, uh, Captain Bergé's request for help.

Please, allow me.

I would not want anyone to impose upon me, therefore I don't want to impose on you.

Right, impose what?

I have 20 of the toughest, finest paratroopers

in the French army under my command.

They're like wild dogs on leashes, wanting to kill Germans.

Well, we want to deploy them in the desert, but they have to be trained.

Our chief training officer was killed in action.

Hmm… Well, we'll find somebody else.

It's all been arranged

that we are sending French paratroopers to join you in Jalo.

Decided by who?

This was my idea.

And everything up until then has been part of the strategy?

My first priority is the execution of the war.

So is yours.

Although to begin with, you would only have to spare one man.

Somebody left behind at Jalo to train the three French in desert warfare.

But in order to deal with my wild dogs

he would have to be a very strong man.

When would this deployment begin?

Good lad.

Come and have a drink. Can we get some chairs?

Miss Mansour, please.

Now, you must tell me all about your last few days…

Did you find him?

Yep.

Paddy.

GHQ…

are sending us a detachment of French paratroopers.

We don't need any more men.

Well, it's a direct order from Auchinleck himself.

A favour to Charles de Gaulle, promised by Winston Churchill.

But…

we would need someone to train them, someone with experience

someone to set up a training camp.

Train them to fight in this oven made of sand, you see.

Who?

Well…

with Jock gone, there is no one else

experienced enough or tough enough.

I decided it has to be you.

So I stay in Jalo while you continue to go out on missions?

Yes, of course, we will continue our campaign.

So the loser finds a way to win.

You know, my old dad

Irish from both sides, stabbed from both sides

by men like you.

Landowning gentry.

Paddy, there is no one el…

He said to me about life as a common man, he said…

You don't deserve my father's wisdom.

Right. Well, listen, Paddy…

Sometimes, when you are in command…

you need to make difficult decisions

not play the fucking piano and go sightseeing in the desert.

We're fucked.

Sub fix: BLU DUAINE blu.duaine@protonmail.com