All language subtitles for Private Schulz - Episode 1

Prison,
contrary to popular belief,

is not something you get used to,

even after three years.

So it was a great relief to be walking
to the warden's office for my release.

Soon I'd be a free man again,

ready to face the summer of 1939.

These are stirring times, SCHULZ.

You'll find the country in the grip
of a great surge of patriotism.

Yes, sir.

It looks as if the might of Poland
will attack us soon,

and Germany will be at war again.

If that terrible thing should happen,
you will have the opportunity

to redeem yourself
by living the life of a soldier.

I hope you won't let your country down.

That's exactly what I said to myself
this morning, sir.

I said,
"Here's a chance to redeem myself. "

This is your second term in Spandau.

The first was for defrauding
an old lady of her life savings.

Well, I prefer to think
I invested them badly.

I was young, inexperienced.

And this time was also for fraud.

You raised money on a scheme
to make gold

out of iron oxide and quartz,
by heating them in an electric furnace,

a chemical impossibility.

It wasn't considered so
at the time, sir.

In fact, I think I could truthfully say
that my firm was the first

to prove conclusively that

it simply couldn't be done.

One can only hope
you've learned your lesson, SCHULZ.

Oh, yes, sir.

You have absolutely no excuse.

A man of your ability and education
should amount to something,

not spend his life in prison.

That is my intention, sir,
to amount to something,

and not return to prison.

You are to report to Herr Krauss,
of Krauss Underwear.

He's a most civic-minded employer,
a most patriotic man.

He is short of staff
due to conscription

and will give you work until
the army calls you to the colours.

Let us hope it will enable you
to return to a life of honesty,

in the service
of our glorious fatherland.

I realised my mistake.

The world outside
was definitely going mad.

It was only a week

before the lunatics
took over completely.

War was declared.

And after a month with Herr Krauss,

I found underwear little better
than Spandau Prison.

It just isn't possible!

These are my latest designs
with the patented buttoning fly.

But Herr Krauss, there is a war on.

Exactly! And our boys at the front
should have only the best.

The best guns, the best rations,
and, Herr Sturmer, the best underpants.

Naturally, we are trying.

But 80 marks a gross,
that won't get you the best.

It cannot be done for 80 marks a gross.
Not the best, not even the second-best.

Let me assure you, Herr Krauss,
we at the Ministry of Supply

have calculated this price
allows for a very reasonable profit.

Profit?

I'm not talking about profit.
I'm talking about the will to win.

Which, if I say it myself,

exists in Krauss Underwear
as strongly as anywhere in Germany.

But 80 marks a gross, that doesn't even
pay for basic raw materials and labour.

I'll talk to my superiors.

In a week, they'll be full of holes.

Uncomfortable for a fighting man.

If I could go to 81 and a half,
would that make a difference?

What sort of impression
are the British going to get

if they take our boys prisoner,
with their underpants full of holes?

Have you thought about that?

81 and a half a gross,
that could make all the difference.

Joy through strength, Herr Sturmer.

I think that should
extend to underpants.

Leave it to me.

I hope to get back to you
in a few days.

They say the war will be over
by Christmas.

I knew the war
wouldn't be over by Christmas.

And I also knew that if I didn't find
a safe little spot somewhere,

I'd very soon find myself in the army.

Well, I'd found it.

80 marks a gross!
What does he take me for?

If we can't do better
than that in wartime,

we might as well surrender immediately.

The war could be over by Christmas,
Herr Krauss.

Thank you,
I don't want to hear that kind of talk.

I just got contracts here
for 100,OOO pairs of army underpants.

When are there orders like that
in peacetime?

Well, I only thought...

You better watch it.

Raising people's hopes,
there's a new law about that.

It's called "endangering the defensive
power of the German people".

There was a clerk shot for that
the other week.

- I'm sorry, Herr Krauss.
- Yeah.

War over by Christmas.

It's the most depressing thought
I've had all week.

What's the matter with everybody?
Nobody wants to fight any more.

Damn Poles collapsed in three weeks.

Draft an ad for the paper, will you?

If I don't get some more labour in,
I'll never meet those orders on time.

I'm leaving, sir.

You're what?

I said, I'm leaving.

Well, you've only been here a month.

I'm going to Postal Censorship.
I've got to see Major Neuheim on Monday.

You selfish little swine.

You don't give a damn
how I meet those orders, do you?

Or whether I attract penalty clauses
for failing to deliver on time.

Well the country comes first,
Herr Krauss.

But how am I going to make underpants
if everybody keeps joining the army?

Your duty is here, you idiot!

Well, you see,
I speak five different languages,

so I'm going to Postal Censorship.

Postal Censorship!

Oh, I understand.
I understand perfectly.

You've found yourself
a nice little number.

You intend to sit out the war
in some safe little office,

just read about it
in other people's letters.

I should have known better
than to employ an ex-jailbird.

Well, listen, dear,
you go off to Postal Censorship.

There's nothing I can do to stop you.

But I just hope a British bomber comes,
and drops on the building,

and blows you to bits.

I sat there laughing to myself.

In fact, I was very soon to be laughing
on the other side of my face.

Scum! Traitors!

You're going to regret the day
you drew your first breath.

I shall have you shot for this,
do you hear? Shot!

You're a disgrace to the Führer,

to the fatherland,
and to the German Army.

You're not fit to wear those uniforms.

Take them off.

I said, take those uniforms off!

A nice little game you've been playing,
haven't you?

You thought we didn't know about it.

Do you think Kube and I
are a couple of idiots?

We've been following every move
you've made.

Your contact, Mueller, was picked up
a week ago and confessed everything.

Your little plot to assassinate
the Führer

and make peace with the British
is known to us,

and to the Führer.

And don't think we don't know
there's more behind you.

The whole higher command of the Army
is not worthy of the Führer's trust.

Well, we will clean it out! Out!

Major Neuheim's office.

Yes, General, he's here. Just a minute.

Heydrich.

My dear Reinhard.

Yes, I've got them both here.

They're supposed to meet the two
British officers tomorrow morning

in a café in Villmar.

That's on the Dutch border.

Of course, Reinhard. Don't worry.

I'll have those Britishers here
in Berlin tomorrow night.

Goodbye.

Have you met these two
British officers before?

No.

No, I know you haven't.

But they're waiting for you
to bring the British peace proposals?

Yes.

Yes, I know they are.

What are their names?

Colonel Clyde Withers
and Major Harrison Smith!

I know their names.

They both work for
the British Secret Service.

How were you supposed
to identify yourselves?

With the phrase
"the war could be over by Christmas".

You swine!

You're supposed to be soldiers

and you want the war
to be over by Christmas?

Well, your war will be over
sooner than that, I can tell you!

Take them away, Schumacher.

Move.

The Führer wants those two
British agents

brought back to Berlin
for interrogation.

Heydrich thinks the best way

is for us to keep the appointment
at the Dutch border,

and kidnap them.

But Holland is a neutral country.

How does he suggest we do it
without creating a diplomatic incident?

Oh, let the diplomats worry
about the incidents.

The Führer has ordered this personally.

But we don't speak English.

Of course we don't!
We're at war with the English!

Come!

What is that?

Private SCHULZ reporting for duty,
Herr Major.

He is your new private
and confidential clerk.

Is this some kind of joke, Schumacher?

No, sir. Private SCHULZ
has been draughted here.

All the documents arrived this morning.

I think there's been
some kind of mistake.

I had an interview
with Postal Censorship.

This isn't Postal Censorship, is it?

Postal Censorship?

Of course it isn't Postal Censorship!

What is he babbling about?

From time to time,
suitable applicants are passed on to us

from Postal Censorship, sir.

Private SCHULZ had
a technical education

and speaks five languages fluently.

Including English?

Including English, Serbo-Croat,
French, Romanian and Dutch.

- Dutch.
- He also has a prison record.

What for?

Fraud, sir.

Fraud?

He could be useful to us, Neuheim.

But I keep trying to tell you,
there's been some mistake.

- I shouldn't be here at all.
- Shut up, damn you,

or I'll have you shot!

Who do you think you are?

I decide who comes into the SS
and who leaves.

Would you get him out of here,
Schumacher?

And for God's sake, get him a tailor.

Yes, sir! Move!

Did he say he speaks English and Dutch?

- Yes.
- Then he could be useful to us, Kube.

Halt!

Schumacher,
this man speaks English and Dutch?

- Yes, sir!
- Well, I'll take him with me!

Get him a suit of clothes,
a false passport,

and some travellers cheques!
I want him ready to leave

- for the Dutch border tonight!
- Yes, Major!

You're working to the Führer's
personal orders now, SCHULZ.

What do you think of that?

We are...

here.

We're not far now.

You're not worried about anything,
are you?

No, sir. It's just that I've never done
this sort of thing before.

This is wartime, SCHULZ.
We all have to learn new skills.

Do you like this car?

It's very comfortable, sir.

Doors, windows, completely bullet-proof.

Designed by the technical section
of the SS.

Look at this. Clever, eh?

No one would suspect
I wasn't just going away for the night.

But I thought we were supposed
to be going unarmed, sir?

Cooperating with the enemy
is a treasonable offence, SCHULZ.

The driver is armed too, just in case.

My God, I'm looking forward to this.

When those two British idiots realise

we're taking them back
to Berlin with us.

You said this was
a diplomatic mission, sir.

Yes, a diplomatic mission

to kidnap a couple of British officers
and take them back to Berlin.

A personal commendation
from the Führer himself, SCHULZ.

That's what I'm after.

Or die in the attempt.

A glorious death, hounding the traitors
who plotted against our Führer's life.

If you don't mind me saying so, Major,
the war's hardly got going.

Isn't it a bit early for bravado?

You don't suppose
I intend to throw our lives away

needlessly?

Well, if it's a question
of my life, sir...

Do you begrudge it? For the Reich?

No, of course not.
I was just trying to establish...

Well?

The plan, sir. How do you propose
to get us back to Berlin?

You leave the plans to me
and worry about your interpreting.

I haven't been a member of the SS
for three years

without learning something.

Long live Queen Wilhelmina!

Tell them to get a move on, SCHULZ.
We haven't got all day.

You had better behave, sir.
The major is a very violent man.

He's quite capable of shooting us all.

It's against every rule
in the conduct of war.

What's he moaning about, SCHULZ?

He's suggesting
you're not playing it fair, sir.

Oh, is he? Well, you tell him
if he doesn't get a move on,

I'll shoot one of them.

We don't need them both. Move!

I don't think the Major's
very interested in the rules, sir.

Tell your Major Neuheim

this is going to have very serious
international repercussions,

kidnapping British officers
on neutral territory.

Get in first, SCHULZ.

Move!

They have brought a firing party.

You cheating swine!

Well, two can play that game.

Drive, SCHULZ.

It'd be easier if you did, sir.
You're in the front.

I said drive, fool. I can't.

Can't what?

I don't know how to drive.

- You don't?
- Are you deaf?

How was I to know the chauffeur
was gonna get himself shot?

Drive!

Use the door, for God's sake!

And get shot at?

This man is injured.

I demand medical attention!
Under article...

Tell him to shut up, SCHULZ,
or I'll shoot him!

I think the Major would prefer
if you waited, sir.

We are a bit busy at the moment,

and it is best not to annoy him.

There's no keys. Where are they?

How should I know?
The chauffeur must have them.

I'm not going out there.

You'll be quite safe.
I'll keep you covered.

No, sir,
I'm not going out there for anything.

I'll shoot you if you don't, you swine!

Well, in that case,
I prefer to be shot in here.

You idiot! We'll all be shot
if you don't get those keys!

With your permission, sir.

Strictly speaking,
this is a criminal offence,

but under the circumstances...

- Tell your Major Neuheim...
- Tell him to shut up!

Tell your Major Neuheim,

- he can't escape.
- Tell him to shut up!

He's trapped in no man's land.
He'll have to surrender.

SCHULZ, tell him to shut up!

Surrender? He will shoot us first.

Your only chance of staying alive
is to come back to Germany.

Drive, SCHULZ, you filthy crook,
and don't stop at that barricade.

Thank you, sir.

Faster, SCHULZ, faster.

Don't stop.
The SS will pay for the damage.

Major Neuheim became
a national hero for this exploit.

He even received a special commendation
from the Führer.

While I, unfortunately,

had my appointment
to SS Counter-Espionage confirmed.

Still, I thought this was a small price
to pay for having emerged

from Neuheim's madcap scheme unscathed.

SCHULZ, bring your notebook.

It was Neuheim's task

to produce a flow
of clever counter-espionage ideas

that would meet with the approval
of his superiors.

One of these schemes
involved the notorious Salon Kitty.

...known as the Salon Kitty.

Salon Kitty was a brothel

for high- ranking officers
and visiting vlPs.

♪ Handsome gigolo

♪ Dressed up all for show

♪ What a wasted life you're leading

♪ Dancing till the dawn

♪ Youth and future gone

♪ Love will pass you by unheeding

♪ Just a soul on hire

♪ To the highest buyer

♪ Cast off when they tire tomorrow

♪ Friends may come, but they'll go

♪ Leaving handsome gigolo

♪ A heart that brims with sorrow

♪ You're just a shop window lover,
gigolo

♪ Your love's for sale
and you want this world to know

♪ You're just an escort
for sentimental ladies

♪ Whose charms have faded
and left them long ago...

Salon Kitty was a paradise

if you didn't know
one particular thing about it.

Neuheim had had all the bedrooms
wired up,

because he imagined the customers
would be whispering state secrets,

and all sorts of disloyalty,
under the influence of sex.

It had the Führer's approval,

but then the Führer
wasn't a noted expert on the subject.

A listening post
had been set up in the cellar.

It was my job to sit there
hour after hour,

glued to a set of headphones,

monitoring the conversations
in the bedrooms.

It wasn't a duty I looked forward to.

It was like being permanently
tickled with a feather

and never being allowed to laugh.

And I'd made the mistake

of breaking one of
the golden rules of life.

I'd fallen for forbidden fruit.

Bertha, Bertha Freya, a peach.

Only, I wasn't allowed into the orchard.

♪... brims with sorrow ♪

Next time, perhaps, Major.

And what brave secrets
did our master spy overhear tonight?

Nothing much.

Just the usual. Grunts, groans.

And what do you expect here
from a whore's bugged bedroom?

Counter-espionage?

Bertha, I was thinking,
perhaps one night I could...

Well, you and I could...

You can't afford me, Gerhard.

And besides, I told you, I can't do it
with anyone below the rank of major.

I've got a psychological block.

I can get hold of some real coffee.

I've got a cupboard full.

And now,
for the real business

of what they're calling the phoney war.

From an airfield somewhere in England,
the RAF is about to pay Hitler a visit.

But it's still gentle persuasion
from our boys of the air,

as they prepare to drop leaflets
over Berlin and other German cities.

Millions of them,
urging the ordinary people of Germany

that war simply
isn't in their interest.

Let's hope this makes
the Huns see sense.

Don't forget the stamp, boys.
And good luck.

Are they mad, the British?
They're bombing us with leaflets.

They dropped five million pieces
of paper on the Ruhr last night.

That's typical of the British, sir.

They're the worst litter louts
in Europe.

Yes. Well, they surely don't expect
the German people to read them.

Oh, no, sir. They're just hoping to make
our cities as filthy as their own.

- Alfred.
- What?

- Heydrich's on the line.
- Well?

Well, he's in a fury
over these leaflets.

He wants to know
if he should advise Goering

to drop our own leaflets on London.

Well, what do you think?
Would the British read our leaflets

if we dropped them? Is it worth it?

I had the call transferred to you.

Major Neuheim's office.

General Heydrich, sir.

You've lived in Britain.
Would the British read our leaflets

if we dropped them over London?

I doubt they'd even notice them, sir.

There's too much rubbish
lying about in the streets already.

My dear Reinhard,
what can I do for you?

Yes, Kube and I
were just discussing them.

My opinion?

Well, in my opinion,
dropping leaflets on the British

would be a complete waste of time.

Their streets are so filthy
they probably wouldn't even notice them.

Thank you, Reinhard.

Of course, we'll think of something.

Goodbye.

Thank you, Alfred.

Clever little fellow, aren't you?

You know, you could go
a long way in the SS,

if it weren't for your face.

Your face is a disadvantage.
You know that, don't you?

- Sir?
- Well, you look more like a Slav

than a German.

There isn't any Slav in you,
I suppose, is there?

- Certainly not, sir!
- No.

Well, I'll tell you frankly, SCHULZ,

you can consider yourself lucky
you've been assigned to me.

I'm going to take you under my wing.

- Thank you very much, sir.
- Yes.

Some of our SS types think it's enough
to be blue-eyed and fair-haired.

But if that were the case,
where would the Führer be?

Not in the SS.

Exactly.

Well, that's Himmler's problem,
not mine.

Mine is what to do
about these damned leaflets.

May I make a suggestion, sir?

Well?

That we ask to Dr Goebbels
to put out a statement

over the radio to London,
thanking the British

for their contribution
to the German war effort,

and that we've swept up their leaflets,
re-pulped them,

and turned them into toilet rolls.

Get me Dr Goebbels on the telephone.

I'm sorry, but I'd better be going,
little dumpling.

Oh, no. You can't go out in an air raid.

It's safe here.
Stay and have a glass of champagne.

My wife doesn't appreciate it when
I have too many glasses of champagne.

- Good night, Kitty.
- Good night, Professor.

Good night.

It's probably only
a practice firing anyway.

Clothing coupons?

They must be mad.

- Walter.
- You're late.

Schumacher's downstairs,
waiting to be relieved.

- Can I talk to you?
- Not now, I'm tired.

I haven't been on my feet all day.

But I've got something
I think you might like.

Which means
I've got something you'd like.

You don't give up, do you?

- Look, I've told you before...
- Look, would you take clothing coupons?

Clothing coupons?
Oh, don't be ridiculous.

How many have you got?

- About 50 sheets.
- 50?

Downstairs.

- Where have you been?
- Sorry, I got caught up in an air raid.

- I didn't hear any air raid.
- I'm not surprised.

I think you'd better go
and get a cold shower.

I hate this job.
It's just a waste of time.

You could go blind, you know.

Well...

- Where did you get these?
- On the black market.

They're forged.

- Oh, what?
- And very crudely forged.

Did you seriously think

I could be bought
with forged clothing coupons?

What about real ones?

Well, actually,
I prefer foreign currency.

Now, if you can get hold of some
Swiss francs or British banknotes...

British banknotes?

We're at war
with the British, remember?

Anyway, I can't get foreign currency.

No, but I can, and do.

And have them tucked away
against the day...

Ah!

You think Germany might lose the war.

I don't think anything.

But a girl must hedge her bets.

I'm beginning to have serious doubts
about your war aims, Bertha.

Listen, my friend,
my aims are very simple.

One is to survive the war,

and the other
is to do as well as I can out of it.

Which, as far as I can see,

is no more than the leaders
of our beloved party hope to do.

Then you ought to be more careful
who you talk to.

I am. I only talk to you,

because I know your war aims
are no different to mine.

British banknotes.

Wait a minute, Walter.
Don't be so rough. You'll tear them.

Here, let me take them off.

There, how's that?

Oh, Inga.

Oh, Hilda!

Oh, Gretchen!

Oh, Christ!

The dropping of leaflets by the British,
we chose to regard as a joke.

Something to laugh at and ignore.

But this is no laughing matter,

and we insist on retaliation.

My Führer, SS Counter-Espionage
will not stand by

and see the German economy undermined by
the dropping of forged clothing coupons.

Apart from anything else, they're
such bad forgeries, Major Neuheim.

They'll get better unless we retaliate,
Count Von Fritsch.

Führer, in Dr Funk's opinion
and in mine,

it would be a misuse of resources to put
men to work forging clothing coupons.

Frankly, I consider it childish.

The British disagree with you.

The British are indulging
their national passion for games.

Besides, it's obviously escaped
the notice of SS Counter-Espionage

that clothing is not yet
rationed in Britain.

Major Neuheim,

you've not been doing your homework.

Well, food is rationed, isn't it?
We can drop forged ration books.

Führer, this discussion
is becoming absurd.

The British are not short of food

and won't be until the U-boat war
gets fully underway.

Apart from which, it is in the intention
of the Ministry of Economics

to fight this war according to the rules
of the Geneva Convention.

What has that got to do with it?

Nowhere in those rules does it allow
for the barbarous destruction

of a nation's economy
by the dropping of forged ration books.

In my opinion,
it could easily constitute a war crime.

Then the British
have already committed one.

Exactly, and those responsible
will answer for it.

In the courts, after the war.

Are you insane at the Ministry?

Do you think anyone cares
about the courts?

We are at war!

There are rules of war, Major Neuheim.

And while Dr Funk
is head of the Ministry of Economics,

those rules will be adhered to.

Führer, I appeal to you.

He's right, Major Neuheim.

What will the dropping of
forged ration books accomplish,

if the British aren't yet short of food?

- Well, we can drop other things.
- Such as?

Anything that would disrupt
the British war effort.

We can drop forged driving licences,

savings certificates
and fake university degrees.

We can drop forged identity cards,

Post Office Savings Bank books,

medical certificates
that keep you out of the army...

- And British banknotes.
... and British banknotes.

And British banknotes!
We'll forge everything.

Every new document they invent,
we'll forge.

We have the capacity. We can destroy
their power to organise anything!

Banknotes?

British banknotes?

Never while Dr Funk is alive

will British banknotes be forged!

- Never!
- Why not?

You are despicable, Major Neuheim.
Despicable!

Killing is one thing.

That is inevitable in time of war.

In the heat of battle,
an army may even burn a church,

sometimes with a congregation in it,

though that would be deeply regrettable.

But when you attack
the integrity of the British pound,

and encourage others to do the same
with the German mark,

you strike the roots of
European law and order.

Never will we permit it.

- Never!
- Come, now, Count Von Fritsch.

There's no need to get so upset.

My Führer, forgive me.

But I remember 1923
and the misery of that inflation.

And I feel compelled to say

that if such a monstrous proposal
were accepted,

you would have Dr Funk's resignation
in the morning.

And mine.

Did you hear Goebbels
on the radio last night

on the subject of the leaflets
the British dropped?

I was working late last night.

He was wonderful.

He thanked the British for their
contribution to the German war effort,

and said the leaflets had been
swept up, re-pulped,

and turned into toilet rolls.

Ha!

Joseph,

sometimes, you know,

so clever.

Well,

if the Ministry of Economics objects,

you must think of something else,
Major Neuheim.

- Thank you, Führer.
- Thank you. Good day, gentlemen.

Good day, Führer.

Heil, my Führer. Heil, my Führer.

Major Neuheim.

You haven't seen the model
of the monument

I'm going to build after the war.

- Come and look at it.
- Wait outside.

I like your little idea, Major Neuheim,

about the banknotes.

Of course, I couldn't say so
in front of Fritsch.

Bankers are all so stuffy.

All they ever see
is keeping the economy stable.

But I have to see everything.

All my life,
people have been saying to me,

"You can't do this. You can't do that. "

But I say to them,

"Remember Professor Heinkel
and the bumblebee!"

Bumblebee, Führer?

Bumblebee.

I'm assured by Professor Heinkel

that according to the laws
of aerodynamics,

the bumblebee cannot fly.

It has something to do with the ratio
of its wing span to its weight.

But the bumblebee, Major Neuheim,

ignorant of this scientific fact,

does fly.

So I say to people,

"Sometimes it is better
to be a bumblebee

"than it is to be Professor Heinkel. "

I shall remember that story, Führer,
for the rest of my life.

It is not only innocence
that protects itself,

but ignorance, too.

That has been my experience.

Well...

will it work?

Forging British banknotes?

I'm certain of it.

Well, not a word to
the Ministry of Economics.

The whole operation
must be kept top secret

between me and my little SS.

Hey?

Yes, Führer!

Heil, my Führer.

The Führer has agreed
to that little scheme of mine, SCHULZ.

We are going to break
the Bank of England, SCHULZ.

We're going to forge millions
of English banknotes

and inject them like a dose of flu
into the British economy.

The Bank of England

will shortly be running
a high temperature.

- I shall get started straightaway, sir.
- You?

This isn't a job for an amateur,
you fool.

We need the professionals.

I shall hand the whole thing over
to the technical section of the SS.

They've had a vast experience
of forging everything.

It can't be done.

What do you mean, it can't be done?

It can't be done.

Well, it can be done, but not properly.

The forgeries would be spotted
in no time.

Why?

The paper, for one thing.
You can't get it.

Since about 1750, it's been supplied
to the Bank of England

by a single family,
from their paper mills.

No one has ever succeeded
in getting any of it out.

Then, Captain Ohm,

we will make our own.

We can't.
We've shredded it, we've pulped it,

we've analysed it.

We have destroyed about
a thousand pounds

in British five-pound notes doing it.

No one can identify
where the paper comes from,

or how it's made.

It's a linen of some sort,

probably from their colonies in Asia,

but that's all we can tell you.

Are you telling me that what I've
promised the Führer could be done

can't be done?

What can't be done, Major,
can't be done!

With all our technical resources,

we don't know how to do it.
Not properly.

Have you never heard of the bumblebee,
Captain Ohm,

and how it manages to fly?

No.

It flies, damn you,
because it doesn't know how not to!

With due respect to you, Major,
and to the bumblebee,

my department has a vast experience
in forging everything.

Now, if it were rubles, for instance...

I don't want rubles!

...or Japanese yen,

or a complete dossier
on Marshal Tukhachevsky,

which we supplied to Stalin in 1937,

implicating his commander-in-chief
in negotiations with the Third Reich...

Oh! Shut up, shut up, shut up!

All right, you've had your successes.

But you are telling me

that you cannot forge
British five-pound notes?

That is what you are telling me?

Yes, Major,
that is what we are telling you.

That is our opinion,
after considerable research.

Oh, get out, get out, get out!
You incompetent clown!

You fool!

The technical section of the SS
says it can't be done.

I should have known better than
to listen to you in the first place.

With all due respect, sir,
to the technical section of the SS,

do you think they're
the best authority on forgery?

Lf, as I suggested to you
in the first place,

you could let me handle this,

I think I could get us a little further
than Captain Ohm.

"... and to render him
every aid and facility

"in carrying out his work for
the high command

"of the security forces of the SS.

"Signed, Major Neuheim. "

What can the high command of the SS
want here?

Ask him to come in.

What can I do for you?

You?

- SCHULZ?
- Yes, Warden.

Well...

I'm glad to see you've done so well
for yourself, SCHULZ.

I thought you were with Krauss,
of Krauss Underwear.

You have a prisoner here,
Ephraim Solikov.

Solikov.

Ah, yes, the Jew.
He's working just down the corridor.

- Bring him in here.
- Fetch Solikov to my office at once.

He's to be transferred to a camp,
I suppose.

Good. Excellent.

Much more suitable.

What else can I do for you?

You can clear out of this office
while I interrogate him.

I don't want to be disturbed.

Make yourself at home.

Hello, Solly.

Gerhard?

Gerhard SCHULZ?

Oh, my God, I thought...

Hey, Solly, come on, calm down.

Hey.

- What are you doing in that uniform?
- Don't worry about that.

Come and sit down. Relax.

Schnapps?

Schnapps? Are you crazy?
That's the warden's liquor!

Well, he told me to make myself at home.

It's amazing the effect
this uniform has on people.

Here you are, drink it down.

Solly.

Did you ever forge

one of these?

An English fiver?

- I don't think it can be done.
- Oh, don't say that. I'm relying on you.

On me? Why?

What are you? Crazy or something?

I'm in here doing a stretch
for counterfeiting,

and you're talking to me about
forging fivers, in the warden's office!

Listen. Calm down.
Sit down. I'll explain it to you.

I've been given official clearance

from the highest authority
to forge English five-pound notes.

Millions of them.

They're all a bit mad outside, Solly.

- The highest authority?
- The very highest.

And they've put you in charge?

They must be mad.

Now, listen, I need your advice.

The technical section of the SS say
that can't be done.

They say it's impossible
to get the paper.

They're right. Nobody's ever succeeded
in getting hold of any.

Well, didn't you ever find out
what it was, where it came from?

Sure, I found out.

I worked on it once
with a Czech chemist called Kapa.

Back in the '20s.

We destroyed so many notes finding out,
we ran out of money.

What else did you discover?

It's made from a special linen
they import from India.

India?

That'll be difficult.

Don't need to go to India.

We found out there's a place in Turkey

which produces an identical linen.

But listen, Gerhard, forget it.
It's too difficult. I know.

And believe me, I've forged every major
currency in Europe in my time.

And what are the other problems?

Well, there's the ink.

Nobody's ever succeeded
in breaking down the dyes.

Look at the folds
in the gown of Britannia.

And the number of curlicues.
So easy to miss just one.

See the watermark?

Do you know how they put
that watermark into the pulp?

How?

It's pressed in with a wire mesh

that's got to be accurate
to five-tenths of a millimetre.

And then,
even if you get all that right,

you face your biggest problem of all.

The figures and dates of the series.

They have to correspond exactly.
Otherwise, they'll be spotted.

I'm telling you, my friend.
Costs a lot of money

to make money.

I wouldn't be in here if it didn't.

But, Solly, this is different.

I can get all the resources I want.
Things you never could.

I can get the cooperation
of chemical works,

printing works, paper mills.

I mean, anything I want, I can have.

I've got the chance of making a fortune.
I'm not going to let it slip.

Well, good luck to you.

I've told you all I know.

Look, Solly,
I need more than your advice.

I want you to run the operation.

- Me? But I'm in prison.
- I can get you out.

You're working
for the government, Solly.

- Essential war work.
- The government?

- But I'm a crook.
- So are they.

The only difference between them and us
is they're homicidal maniacs.

What do you say?

I'm scared, Gerhard.

I'll tell you frankly,
I'm afraid to leave this place.

- I feel safe here.
- Listen, old friend.

We are going to forge millions and
millions of English five-pound notes

and drop them all over England.

But they've got to be perfect.

And if they are,

they'll pay for your passage
out of Germany,

me a spot in the sun
and all the women I ever dreamt of.

We are going to be rich, Solly.

The war is a windfall for us.

But a graveyard for a lot of others.

Well, what do you do
when the lunatics take over the asylum?

It's every man for himself.

All right, what can I lose?

So it's business as usual then, eh?

Business as usual.

Now, put your feet up, Solly. Relax.
You're gonna be rich. Get used to it.

Richer than you've ever dreamt of.

For one who
had recently left Spandau,

Barracks 19 of Sachsenhausen
concentration camp

might seem like
a step down in the world.

But this was where Solly and I were sent
to set up our highly secret operation.

The staff came from all the jails
and concentration camps of Germany.

We had to spend weeks
searching for them,

even though each one of them
was a living legend

in the underworld of forgery.

Solly hand-picked every one.

And when the time came, we had
the most brilliant team of forgers

ever assembled under one roof.

You are all, without exception,
the scum of Germany.

However, even the lowest form
of humanity

can be useful to the success
of one noble enterprise.

But do not think the party in any way

condones your disgusting profession,

just because it intends
to profit from it.

On the contrary, it abominates it.

However, in wartime, every resource,
however unpleasant, must be used.

And you may look upon yourselves
as sewage

being recycled into
the national war effort.

Naturally,

I want you to put your hearts and souls
into this work for your country.

I want you to work
with as much skill and artistry

as if you were producing
the notes for yourselves.

Do not, however,
come to regard any of them as your own.

Private SCHULZ here has devised
a fool-proof system of accounting

that will mean certain death for anyone
who so much as thinks of it.

Rations will be good here
in Barracks 19.

Far better than any of you swine
have been used to

in those prisons and labour camps
you come from.

I shall allow a radio,

newspapers, and a cigarette ration.

Indeed, if things go well,

I shall even permit the playing
of ping-pong with the guards.

Do you know the guards
are very fond of ping-pong?

And now, go to it with a will.

Give Germany another weapon
in the fight against England

and forge for the Führer!

You know, these men could do with
a lesson in gratitude, Schumacher.

Come with me.

Now, I am most concerned
for the welfare of your men.

Will you get out of my way, you swine?

What are they going to need
in the way of barest essentials?

Beds or are they more at home
on the floor?

Beds, sir.

Good God, they'll
be asking for suet next.

Now, don't let your men go flat, SCHULZ.

Every one must realise the importance
of what is going on here.

And also the importance of secrecy.

That's why the windows are boarded up.

I hadn't noticed that.

Well, carry on, SCHULZ. Forge ahead.