All language subtitles for SAS.Rogue.Heroes.S02E06.1080p.AMZN.WEB-DL.DD+5.1.H.264-playWEB_track3_eng

We do not care
about the mental health,

the psychological conditions
amongst your men.

Just so long as you keep... winning.

Three hundred and twenty miles.

For Paddy Mayne to function,
he needs someone to rebel against.

I'm perfect for the job,
don't you think?

Mission completed.

We leave Italy to
the ordinary soldiers now.

We, we're going home.

The Italian Government has fallen.

The Italian guards have left the camp.

We have 20 minutes to get free.

We've got ten minutes!

Back the other way!

Bloody hell!

Follow me!

Just leave it!

Come on! Come on!

We've got to hide!

Push!

Oh, fuck!

Gimme some of that!

- Gimme some of that!
- The Germans are coming!

No, get off! That's mine!

Stirling!

Stirling, come on!
The Germans are on the hill.

We don't have much time.

We need to take our chances
before the Germans arrive.

- What news of my men?
- What are you talking about?

I've had no news for 15 days.
My men, the SA-fucking-S.

- Are they alive?
- Well, the reports I heard,

they're most of the reason
the Italian Government fell.

Now I hear they're
on their way home.

Go on, get that down you.

That's the first
I've heard about it.

Can you believe that?

Hey, listen up.

So...

That was Italy.

Some craic, wasn't it?

Some craic.

Our grand old tour of Europe...

began here.

But who knows where
our itinerary will take us next.

But first...

John!

- Yes!
- John!

Alright, mate?

Hey.

Tonkin, you'd better tell these
what you got up to,

'cause they'll not believe me.

Well, er... I was captured.

They were gonna shoot me,
I escaped and then, er...

- An angel came and scooped you up.
- Ooh, Tinky-Tonkin.

Er, something like that.

No, you won't believe me
if I told you, erm, but...

Er, what I will say is,

me standing here now,
you all standing here now.

It is living proof that
someone up there... likes us.

So we are unstoppable.

I'll drink to that, Tonk!

He's back!

Thank you, sir.

Thank you.

Get the whisky!

Hände hoch!

Aaagh!

Hände hoch!

Schnell! Schnell! Schnell!

Los! Los! Los!

This place is a maze.
It has been a fort, church, monastery.

- There's holes everywhere.
- What do we do with holes, David?

We hide in them.

You said the Allied troops are
advancing. Soon they will be here.

The Germans are not coming
to secure this prison.

They are coming to take
the prisoners away

and ship us all back to Germany,
but they'll have to find us first.

Find a hole, sit tight,

wait for them to leave.

The only person who was better
than me at playing hide and seek

was my mad sister, yes, and she
was once missing for three days.

Listen, hide and seek
is best played by individuals,

otherwise one tends to start giggling.

Mwah! Good luck, old boy.

- David?
- Yes?

Are you sure you're quite alright?

Oh, God, no. Not sure at all.

Come on, Jack!

They're here!
We need to hide. Quickly!

Los!

Nichts.

Was ist da oben?

Weiß nichts.

Komm.

Los.

Oh, my God.

Wake up, boys!

You're home.

Give us
a fucking lie in, will ya?

Old time boys.

Cor blimey.
Haven't seen them for a while.

Feels like it's all over.

Paddy said it's just begun.

How long we got at home, Paddy?

Till the whistle blows
and the second half begins.

You can spend half-time
brushing up on your French.

♪ There'll be bluebirds over ♪

♪ The white cliffs of Dover ♪

♪ Tomorrow, just you wait and see ♪

♪ There'll be bluebirds over ♪

♪ The white cliffs of Dover ♪

♪ Tomorrow, just you wait and see ♪

♪ I'll never forget the people I met ♪

♪ Braving those angry skies... ♪

Michael.

Daddy!

Hey!

♪ The light of hope in their eyes ♪

♪ And though I'm far away ♪

♪ I still can hear them say ♪

♪ Bombs up ♪

♪ But when the dawn comes up ♪

♪ There'll be bluebirds over ♪

♪ The white cliffs of Dover ♪

♪ Tomorrow, just you wait and see ♪

♪ There'll be love and laughter ♪

♪ And peace ever after ♪

♪ Tomorrow, when the world is free ♪

♪ There'll be bluebirds over ♪

♪ The white cliffs of Dover ♪

♪ Tomorrow, just you wait and see ♪

♪ But give me enough
of the fine old stuff ♪

♪ That's made near Galway Bay ♪

♪ Come gougers all from Donegal ♪

♪ Sligo and Leitrim too ♪

♪ We'll give them the slip
and we'll take a sip ♪

♪ Of the rare old Mountain Dew ♪

The mist will bring
the brown trout up.

It'll be a good day.

Aye, and the mist
will hide us from the bailiffs.

It'll be a grand day all round, I'd say.

Mist and fog are always our friends.

So the sand of the desert
couldn't keep your soul buried, Eoin?

Ah, no.

I missed the fog,

and the water, the fish.

You.

I missed you.

I'm not sure I can forgive myself.

For any of it.

You see, I keep waking up
and finding myself alive.

No matter how hard I try.

It's like a horse race,

but actually you're riding
on a carousel.

So there's no chance your horse
will overtake the one in front

and the one behind you
will never catch you up.

The horse in front is contentment.

The horse behind you is death.

There I am.

Lieutenant-Colonel
Robert Blair Mayne,

sitting on a plaster fucking horse

unable to get off the fucking carousel.

You sure got off the carousel
though, didn't you?

I was spun off.

That was not my choosing.

No, you got off
to stick around in the desert.

It was the desert where
we were most easily ourselves.

Ah, yeah, the desert.

When it was the desert
and you and me.

You and me.

Paddy.

You don't think you'll make it
to Berlin, do you?

It's not reaching Berlin
that concerns me.

It's this.

The aftermath, sitting in a boat,

sitting on a tractor, sitting at a desk.

And nothing comes at you,

nothing comes whizzing or exploding,

or punching or stabbing, it's just air.

Just the dead fucking air.

Fuck.

Please help us!

- We're British!
- Please!

- They're leaving us to drown!
- Please, stop the boat!

Stop the boat!

Here...

least when the air is empty,
when there's no fucker there,

least I'll always have company.

Aye.

At least from now on
I'll never truly be alone.

Oh, God.

Get me up. Get me free.
Get me through the war.

And get me a drink.

As you can see I've, erm, taken
a bit of a tumble from the wagon.

Do you mind...?

- Ah!
- To victory.

Yeah, sorry, I, erm...

I don't, er, I don't, I don't really
drink toasts to anything anymore.

It's a rather odd ceremony to...

offer up a sip of a thing
that's destroying your sanity

for the sake of some
good cause or other.

Your mind is surviving. I see that.

And you have changed.

I can see that.

I was obliged to kill people.

I was good at it.

But I have learned that I'm not
so good at what comes next.

- What you mean you feel regret?
- No.

I feel horror at my lack of regret.

How was your journey home?

I took a flight with
Lieutenant-Colonel Bill Stirling.

I got a message that you
wanted to see me

as soon as I got back to England.

What was so urgent?

Er...

I really can't remember.

But I... I could make an educated guess.

What with you being French

and what likely comes next
in the conduct of the war.

In the next few months, I imagine
you'll become rather important.

Important how?

Ah, well,

like almost everything else
in this crucial moment in the war,

that is a secret.

By the left, quick march!

HQ? Oh, hello, sir.

Come.

At ease.

Take a seat.

First, Colonel Stirling,

congratulations from
Winston Churchill himself

on your part in redrawing that map.

Mr Churchill has a fondness
for the SAS stretching back to Africa.

And we too, on behalf
of the Allied Force Headquarters,

now have a very high regard for your men

and what they are able to achieve.

Why is it that all this praise and
niceness is making me nervous?

As you know,
preparations are well under way

for the invasion of Northern Europe.

We've explored a range
of possible invasion points

along the French and Dutch coasts.

And done it in such
a way that German intelligence

will believe that all of them
are possible.

Current thinking in Berlin is that
we will attack the Hook of Holland,

thanks to tireless deception work

carried out by Dudley Wrangel Clarke
and British intelligence.

May I just say before you continue
that wherever it is decided

the main invasion force should land,
I hope that all the earlier flattery

was not an attempt to solicit the SAS

to once again act as shock troops.

No. That is not what
this meeting is about.

- Quite the opposite in fact.
- AFHQ believe

the best use of the SAS would be
in advance of the main invasion.

1SAS and 2SAS would be dropped
behind the coastal defences.

- How far behind?
- Thirty miles.

And how far in advance
of the main invasion?

- Thirty-six hours.
- Thirty-six hours?!

Their task would be
to establish positions

and then to disrupt
every attempt by the enemy

to reinforce the coastal defences
at the actual point of invasion.

This would be nothing
more than a suicide mission!

No other regiment was even
considered for this vital role.

Because deep, deep, deep down,

somewhere in the corridors
of military power,

there is a resentment against the SAS,

against my brother, and against
the success we have achieved.

Actually, old man,
everyone pretty much knows

the success is almost
entirely down to Paddy Mayne.

Ah.

Who you would have killed
in action or shot dead, executed,

to protect the conventional troops
who will take all the glory.

The SAS have proven their worth

and they are best used arriving
where they are least expected.

Well, this plan would be
unexpected because it is insane.

I am leaving this meeting.

Sit down, we have other matters...

The answer is no
and I will fall on my sword over it!

You may not need to fall
on your sword, Colonel Stirling.

If you continue to question orders,

there are those inside GHQ
who will happily stab you in the back.

Dismissed.

Aaagh!

I surrender! Please!

Don't shoot!

Please!

Prepare, prepare,

the iron helm of war.

Bring forth the lots,
cast in the spacious orb.

Th' Angel of Fate turns
them with mighty hands.

- You!
- And casts them out

- upon the darken'd earth! Prepare!
- Stop!

Oh. Oh!

Can I help you with something, officer?

You were seen running
through the village.

A mother and her children
heard you talking.

They thought you might be
talking into one of those radios.

And they thought perhaps
I was a one-man German invasion

come to Northamptonshire all alone.

I'll need to see identity papers,
come on.

I am a soldier, but I'm not German.

- I'm Irish.
- And why were you running?

Because for a man in my condition
running is the same as walking.

- Plus I am in a hurry.
- To get where?

London.

- You're going to London on foot?
- Aye.

What that lady and her children
heard was me reciting poetry,

which in my madness,
I am very fucking prone to do.

Lieutenant-Colonel Robert Blair Mayne.

Special Air Service.

You deliver mail?

If there's gonna be an invasion,

I am always first with the news.

That's why I'm going to London.

There's gonna be a wee invasion

and I think they want me
to be a part of it.

Actually, officer,
I'm running late for my first meeting.

So in the name of his Majesty the King,

I need to borrow your bike.

Borrow my... borrow my bike.

Fuck...

♪ Sing as we go
and let the world go by ♪

♪ Singing a song,
we march along the highway ♪

♪ Say goodbye to sorrow ♪

♪ There's always tomorrow
to think of today ♪

♪ Sing as we go,
although the skies are grey... ♪

Oh, fuck.

- Where is he?
- He's waiting for you, General.

Colonel Stirling isn't alone.

His companion cycled
all the way down the corridor

with his hands off the handlebars.

This fucking regiment!

Whoever you are,
a General just walked in the room.

The arm I use to salute
is a wee bit stiff, sir.

I fell off my bike in Hendon
in my haste to get here.

Colonel Stirling,
what is the meaning of all this?

And what the fuck is he doing here?

What I am doing here, sir, is giving
my professional opinion on your plan.

You shared a classified plan
of operation without permission.

As I recall from our last meeting,
General Montgomery insisted

the entire success of the SAS in Italy
was down to Paddy Mayne.

So why wouldn't I share what you're
still daring to call "the plan" with him?

Thirty miles behind the lines.

Thirty-six hours before the invasion.

- Oh, glory to the fallen.
- That information is top secret.

If it's thirty miles behind,
thirty-six hours before,

it'll make no difference where
in France your forces land,

my regiment will all be dead by
the time you set foot on the beach.

Right, so, to be clear,

you are sharing classified information
and from what I am hearing,

you are suggesting that you
would disobey a direct order!

No, no. No, no, sir.

I would go alone myself,
that I would do.

But I would not ask my men
to come with me,

since most of my men
are quite keen to live,

whereas I am, at best, equivocal.

Oh, and, and the other problem
with your plan, sir,

is that it would not work.

If you drop us into France
thirty-six hours before,

it'd only take one gust of wind

to blow one parachute
into the arms of the enemy.

They would put two and two together

and begin to work out
where the invasion point is.

And you would be giving them
thirty-six hours to prepare.

Since it's you...

and especially you...

I will share your concerns
with General Montgomery.

And, Colonel Stirling,

your conduct in this matter will be
noted at the very highest level.

Fuck!

Goodness.

Were you and I
just on the same side?

Goodness, I... I think we were.

And from what I could tell,
by your man's wee outburst just there,

you might have just sacrificed
your military career to save the SAS.

I told you in Cairo.

My brother was
this regiment's midwife.

I am not prepared to be its coroner.

Also in Cairo, I told you, you had
done nothing to earn my respect.

Chopped down no trees,
cut up no logs, fed no fires.

Please don't say anything nice to me,
it'd be too confusing.

Will he listen to us, do you think?

A rather grand old spy
has invited me for drinks tonight.

- I understand you're invited too.
- Aye, I got a note.

- Cocktails at The Ritz.
- Hmm.

Did the grand old spy
say what the meeting is about?

No.

But I'm guessing
it will either be a celebration,

fond farewell,

or an execution.

Your single malt whisky, sir

Thank you.

Ah!

Now behave.

Hmm!

Paddy.

So...

you are the "grand old spy".

That's how my commanding officer
described you.

Oh.

Well, Paddy I've, er, I've called you here
to give you some good news.

- Shall we order some champagne?
- No, no.

I'm sound, thank you.

What good news?

Well, I've heard from AFHQ

that Montgomery has agreed
to think again

about the SAS's involvement
in the coming invasion.

And he's changed his mind,
Paddy, because of you.

He holds you in high regard.

Well, I thought you'd be pleased.

For myself the manner
of my passing is a detail,

so being excused a suicide
mission is of no consequence.

But my friend, Bill Stirling,

is afraid that, come what may,

the knives are now
officially out for him.

And he's your friend

- and your commanding officer?
- Aye.

That is some achievement.

Is my friend right to be concerned
about knives?

"And in his silence
he spoke a thousand words".

Let's drink a toast,

to common sense
and second thoughts,

and see what the night brings.

You know, I can recall a drunken
conversation around a fire

in which somebody said the SAS
was invented by a spy

who wore Chanel dresses.

Was that you?

Er...

Well...

These days I prefer
a less elaborate couture,

but, yes, it was I who started
this whole extraordinary process.

Which makes you, Paddy Mayne,
my offspring.

And every young German that you
strangle is on my account with God.

So, you could say the SAS
is kind of a lethal poem

from the imagination
of a deranged poet.

Give me that fucking flask.

Bravo!

Thank you.

We'd now like to
invite you to the floor...

- Ah!
- ...for our next number,

"Fools Rush In".

Two spies at the same table.

And a secret to be revealed.

Who said that war couldn't be fun?

French '75.

Er... Er, two, please.

What?

It's going to be a difficult evening.

What exactly is this meeting about?

My creator, over here,
said something about the truth.

There now,
all four of us are gathered.

So now we can begin.

Where exactly did Paddy
suggest we meet?

He said he was invited
somewhere fancy.

And where he goes,
we should be allowed to go.

- Night-night, ladies!
- Enjoy yourselves!

Fuck off!

Mm-mm.

Mm-mm.

Mm-mm-mm.

Mmm.

Mmm. Ah!

Mmm! Mmm.

Tomorrow morning,
intensive preparations

will begin for
the invasion of France.

Paddy Mayne and1SAS

will be deployed to the Highlands
of Scotland at 7:00am.

Which is why my boys are now
all safely tucked up in bed.

2SAS will be deployed
to Scotland in three days' time.

And to complete the triangle,
Eve Mansour will be deployed

to the same camp a day later.

Yes, Colonel Stirling,

Eve was briefed this morning
by General de Gaulle himself.

Which is why I've called this meeting.

General de Gaulle has ordered Eve

to act as liaison between
the British and French SAS,

who will fight together
as part of the invasion force.

So Eve will be deployed
to the Ayrshire camp,

as will you, Colonel Stirling.

So the two of you...
will be working closely together.

Officers and liaisons will
be cooped up in close quarters,

living cheek by jowl for several months.

Are you trying to make
a point of some kind?

Of a particular kind.

Allied Force HQ have heard a rumour.

They need to know
the status of your relationship

with the new French liaison officer.

What do Allied Force HQ
need to know exactly?

There is nothing that needs
to be known about our relationship.

This is fucking absurd.

Colonel Stirling, I ask you again,

is there anything
that needs to be known?

If the rumour is that
we are sleeping together,

then the rumour is wrong.
We are not and will never.

Oh, no, no, no, no.
Not my business.

Well, it will be your business if it
affects your preparations for invasion.

It'll be left to you
to deal with the mess.

- "The mess".
- Yes, there is a mess.

AFHQ have decided

to open an inquiry into
your close relationship in Italy...

with a French spy.

Okay.

Okay...

Dudley Wrangel Clarke.

AFHQ's bitter little emissary
of bitter little messages.

I made the mistake of questioning
an order and then being proven right.

Thus proving someone else wrong.

And this is how revenge is taken.

Very well.

To avoid an entirely unnecessary
yet embarrassing inquiry,

I will tender my resignation
in the morning,

as I suspect you knew I would.

And you can tell those that sent you,

the feud between the British Crown
and the ancient clan Stirling

which began in 1715
is entirely mutual.

And then, please...

tell them to fuck off.

Sometimes my job is terribly difficult.

Particularly in matters of the heart.

You fucking bastard.

That was highly entertaining.

A spiteful officer class vendetta

amounting to the removal
of an effective officer

right ahead of the most important
operation of the war.

I'm just acting on instruction.

Who will replace him?

Oh, you know,
someone far less effective.

But then the "officer class" knows

that in truth the SAS is run
by you so, what do they care?

- You just carry out their orders.
- Yes.

War's a dirty business.

Isn't it?

I don't know.

I just cut throats.

I don't break hearts.

Thank you, ladies and gentlemen.

Thank you, thank you.

We'd like to invite you onto the floor for
a slightly livelier number, "Roll 'Em".

The SAS have arrived!

Ladies, the men are here!

Oh, ho-ho-ho, look out!

Standards must have
dropped in here, I'd say.

Alright, Pad.

Gentlemen, the Maître D’
has asked you to please leave.

These men
are under my command.

Why would they be taking
instructions from you?

Groups of military in
uniform greater than five

are not allowed into
the restaurant and bar area.

I must have counted 25
American soldiers all in uniform.

That is a special celebration.
We do make exceptions.

Oh, when the bribes right, is it?

Chewing gum, cigarettes?
Yankee dollars?

All we've got is scars.

Sir, if you need help escorting
these gentlemen out,

we are United States Marines.

I really don't think you Brits
can afford these prices.

Pardon me?

This is The Ritz.

I really don't think you Brits can--

Come on!

♪ Be a man, can, a mystery man ♪

♪ Be a doll, be a baby doll ♪

♪ It can't be fun, not anyway ♪

♪ It can't be found, no way at all ♪

♪ A distant man can't sympathise ♪

♪ He can't uphold his distant laws ♪

I owe you a stout, Reg.

You alright, sweet pea?

Children, children, children, children.

My children.

Soldiers of the Special Air Service,
you have a very early day tomorrow.

And you have a war to win.

Okey-dokey.

Let's make tracks.

See you in Paris, sweet pea.

Gentlemen, please!

♪ Be a man, can, a mystery man ♪

♪ Be a doll, be a baby doll ♪

♪ It can't be fun, not anyway ♪

♪ It can't be found, no way at all ♪

There is literally,
literally nothing here.

Aye, there is. Look,
there's a bush there, look.

And, er, there's a tree,
cowering in the wind.

And then there's, there's rocks.

And above that's the sky.

And above that's God.

God never got round to this place.

I actually think it's quite beautiful.

And if the rest of you fuckers
would fuck off

and if Hitler would fuck off,

then I could easily see myself
living out the rest of my days here.

What we gonna drink, Paddy?

Melted snow and rabbit's blood.

And we're gonna kill
red deer stags with our teeth.

Oh, it's gonna be
a grand adventure out here, boys.

♪ Neat, neat, neat! ♪

♪ She ain't got no name to call
Neat, neat, neat! ♪

Loaded. Clear behind.

I do hope nobody was in there.

♪ Be a man, can, a mystery man ♪

Ready?

Go!

Remember what we talked about.

Hit the bicep, hit the nerve.
Go again.

What time do you have, Pad?

Three minutes. Absolute shite, boys.

Oi! That was you,
you fat bastard!

Load 'em up!

You missed a spot.

Oh, shit.

Oh!

Oh!

- Halt!
- Oh, shit!

Los! Los! Los!

Jesus!

- Halt!
- Fuck!

We have a special place
designed for men like you.

Dear David...

I have resigned.

So, no Stirling’s will participate
in the assault on Europe.

Our men are gathering in
great numbers near our family home.

They're to be trained
in a new level of total war.

The regiment has been saved
from a certain suicide mission

and been given one which
is merely insanely reckless.

The men of the SAS are now in
the rough hands of your friend and mine.

I'm sure their next adventure
will make us both proud.

Your loving brother...

Bill.

Last night, I shot
and shattered a bottle of brandy

belonging to the French battalion.

This is by way of recompense.

I learned in Africa

that my communication with
the French is best conducted

through medium of dead deer.

Can I come in?

Of course.

Please, sit anywhere.

I have news.

I already know what happened to David.

I received a letter yesterday.

He said they have sent him
to a castle in the clouds.

I believe the castle
is called Colditz Castle.

- Is that bad?
- It's far from good.

But he will escape.

He will try, that is fucking certain.

Actually, my news is not about David.

In my capacity as commanding officer,

I have been sent here
to relay to the French liaison

the exact date of the invasion of France.

Hang on, one second.

Tell me.

The first advance party

of British SAS invasion units
will land in France...

tonight.

I myself only found out last night,
so I've come to tell you.

Your French boys
will be deployed tomorrow.

- Then I will see you in France.
- You're coming too?

How could I not?

So who's gonna eat
the fucking deer?

We will win, Paddy.

That is the intention.

Will you try to stay alive?

That is the intention.

You see, I'd quite like to see Berlin.

And after that, who knows?

After that you will be
David's best man at his wedding.

I will make sure of it.

That gramophone there,
is that a wind up one?

Yes, it's all I could find here.

And you won't be needing it?

No, I won't be needing it.

Well, if you don't mind.

Paddy, what are you going to do
with a record player

in the middle of an invasion?

The boys are tired of my singing, so...

if on some battlefield
between Normandy and Paris

you hear "Whiskey in the Jar"
played at full volume...

you'll know I'm close.

We shall not fail or falter,

we shall not weaken or tire.

Neither the sudden shock of battle

nor the long-drawn trials of vigilance
and exertion will wear us down.

Give us the tools
and we will finish the job.

Paddy!

What the fuck is that?

It's a gramophone, Reggie.

A record player.

I thought it'd be nice to have
some music to listen to.

Music?

Aye, I'm gonna take it
into France with us

and then we can all listen
to some music together.

Paddy, are you fucking mad?

Of course he's bloody mad,
we're all bloody mad.

And how do you plan on
getting that down to the ground?

Oh, I've all that worked out,
Reggie boy.

I'm gonna strap it to my left leg

and then be sure
to land on my right.

Watch the records, Pad!

Woo-hoo!

♪ As I was going over
the far-famed Kerry mountains ♪

Sing up, boys, sing up!

♪ I met with Captain Farrell
and his money he was counting ♪

♪ I first produced my pistol
and then produced my rapier ♪

♪ Saying stand and deliver
for I am your bold deceiver ♪

♪ Musha-ring dumma-do-damma-da ♪

♪ Whack for the daddy-o ♪

♪ Whack for the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar ♪

♪ I went unto my chamber ♪

♪ For to take a slumber ♪

♪ I dreamt of gold and jewels ♪

♪ And for sure it was no wonder ♪

♪ But Jenny took my charges ♪

♪ She filled them up with water ♪

♪ And sent for Captain Farrell
to be ready for the slaughter ♪

♪ Musha-ring dumma-do-damma-da ♪

♪ Whack for the daddy-o ♪

♪ Whack for the daddy-o
There's whiskey in the jar! ♪

Stand!

You ask, what is our aim?

I can answer in one word: Victory.

Victory at all costs.

Victory in spite of all terror.

Stand!

And fucking deliver!