Original subtitles

I have been asked by General de Gaulle to find a way to get French

paratroopers involved in missions with a British unit.

I've already chosen my officers.

So far in this war, I've killed 21 men.

So, in fact, you can call me 21.

Next!

You play the piano, Paddy?

Almonds was trying to teach me.

Oh, I see. Let the games begin.

What is it about Stirling that you dislike so much?

I invented the SAS.

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

Only the dreamer and the madman left.

I have 20 of the toughest, finest paratroopers in the French army

under my command.

This was my idea.

And everything up until then has been part of a strategy.

You only have to spare one man.

Somebody left behind to train the Free French in desert warfare.

I decided it has to be you.

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

So, the loser finds a way to win.

Two trucks.

Now, I would suggest that we form up into ranks and straight lines

for a formal military greeting,

with salutes and all that... wonderful nonsense.

But that would give them a rather false impression of who we are.

Hey, sir. Will you want to share out our shish, like?

Offer it only if asked.

Do we raise their flag?

Their flag? Have we got it.

Yeah, I made one.

I bought some coloured bedsheets in a brothel in Cairo.

Visiting the mother, was you, Riley?

Well, if you've made one, raise it.

I thought the French flag was all white.

OK, all of you, when the Free French arrived,

there will be no infantile abuse or counterproductive stereotyping

for any reason whatsoever.

Even if it transpires that the unwashed French bastards deserve it.

And, besides, insults would be unwise, even light-hearted ones.

I have it on very good authority that they are a rough lot.

HE WHISTLES LE MARSEILLE

Yeah!

For God's sake. This is Paddy Mayne's welcoming party.

Where the bloody hell is he?

Oh, here's the mad bastard.

Frenchmen at 500 yards, sir.

There is a man among them called Augustin Jordan.

He is a poet, and he's killed more Germans than all of us put together.

Now, I gave my word that we would unfasten their leashes

and let them fight.

Rommel's airstrips are now heavily defended.

Men like Jordan are men like us, and they've lost their country.

It'd be rather unsporting to kill him at 500... 400.

Perhaps, instead, you should read poetry to one another,

and then wrestle naked in the sand to see which of you

is the finest Spartan warrior.

Never wrestle naked in the sand.

Sand under the foreskin is one of the most painful

medical conditions imaginable.

Have you been drinking?

Aye.

And are you going to at least be polite?

The last French words I heard were, "Ne tirez pas."

And I was very polite.

I said, je suis desole.

J'ai peur d'avoir.

Company!

Company, garde-a-vous!

Ooh!

Paddy, perhaps you would like to inspect your men, hmm?

This is Lieutenant Amelde. Former paratrooper.

This is Soldier X. Real name unknown.

Ex-Foreign Legion.

We call him La Vinas. Grapes.

Cos he drinks wine instead of water.

La Vinas.

Grapes.

How many of your men do not remember their own names?

Most of my men speak no English at all.

Well, actually, Paddy speaks French.

No, he fucking doesn't.

Paddy speaks dog.

And your men speak dog.

So...

..we will communicate as dogs.

This is one man that knows his name.

Sergeant Essner, ex-Foreign Legion.

He joined the adventure before the war began, and he's German.

He is invaluable at roadblocks.

We have German uniforms in our truck, and four of my men

are fluent in German, but Sergeant Essner's the real thing.

Ooh, Mr real thing.

How real are you, Sergeant Essner?

I am a real soldier.

I despise the French.

But I fucking hate Germans.

You are a German...

..in a French man's uniform.

Nothing but a turncoat.

Expect to be isolated by my contempt.

Yes, sir.

Actually...

..there are two of us.

I am Corporal Bruckner. I am German, too.

They came as a pair.

That's fucking brilliant.

Tweedledum and Tweedle-Deustch.

MEN LAUGH

SOLDIER SNEEZES

What the fuck is that?

This is Aspirant Halevy.

He speaks German, as well.

He is Jewish.

His entire family, including his two children, were taken to the camps.

He has made a vow to kill as many Nazis as he can.

I am a hand grenade, sir.

Pull the pin, throw me where the enemy's most numerous.

We have use for men like him, Paddy.

Fair play.

Show me to the philosopher.

Augustin Jordan, my second in command.

Winner of the Croix de Guerre,

and former professor of philosophy at La Sorbonne.

Sir.

I hear you're a poet.

The eyes of a familiar compound ghost.

Both intimate and unidentifiable.

I find TS Eliot rather dull.

Not a debate worth getting sand under the foreskin for, one might imagine.

Parade dismissed.

Well, this is going to be rather fun, isn't it?

While you're settling in,

I'm going to be taking my men on a little jolly up country.

What's a jolly?

Halt! German up front!

Jesus Christ. It's OK. It's OK.

Truck is ours.

It was stolen to order by our friend here at the LRDG.

The intelligence boys took it, they painted it up,

put the German vehicle identity code on the roof.

We're going to be using it with us tonight.

There's someone down there, sir. Oh, yeah.

Yes.

On tonight's jolly, we're going to be taking a guest with us.

His first name is Randolph.

His second name is Churchill.

Blimey. Fuck.

His father, Winston, has heard about us, and wants to know more,

so sent his son along to join in the fun.

But, please, feel free to treat him as badly as you treat everyone else.

Too right, sir.

Company!

Garde-a-vous!

Stand easy.

We will begin your training regime this morning with a wee competition.

You will divide into two groups.

And use these poles and these planks

to build two scaffolds 30 feet high.

There are hammers, nails and screws.

But no plan.

So you will have to use your initiative.

Is there a French word for initiative?

The first team to build a scaffold 30 feet high, which a man can climb,

will be the winners.

How do we divide?

Germans, Jews, non-French Legionnaires

against the French. No.

We do not divide ourselves that way.

I have just divided you in that way.

Any more questions?

Well, there fucking should be a question.

"Why are you asking us to build two scaffolds 30 feet high

"in the middle of the fucking desert?"

We're trained not to question orders.

We're trained to carry them out.

Lesson number one, on morning number one...

..you must ask why.

Why?

Very fucking good.

HE SCOFFS

Sharp. Yeah.

You must ask why, because if you know why you are carrying out

your mission, when things fuck up - as they inevitably will -

you will know how to achieve what you set out

to achieve in a different way.

In your own way.

So, why are we building two towers 30 feet high

in the middle of the desert?

Because when they are built, you are going to climb them

and jump off them.

While you are carrying out this test of teamwork, initiative and stamina,

I'm going to be up there on that ridge.

Observing? Nope.

I'm going to be shooting at you.

You'll be what?

I'll be shooting at you with live ammunition.

It'll be up to you to avoid my bullets.

I see evidence of slacking or shirking...

..that really does get my goat,

and I might just decide to wing the culprit.

But most of all, I'll be shooting at you by way of encouragement.

As a general rule, I'll be shooting at anybody who stands still.

So don't stand still!

Oh, oh.

If any of you feel like this is all a wee bit unfair,

fucking please feel free to try and do something about it.

Oh, be warned.

When I put up that bucket earlier, there was a frog in it.

Now, then, she's a truck.

Treat her like a horse, not a kitten.

And you're Italian. Drive like one. What does that mean?

Green means go. Amber means accelerate.

Red means accelerate and honk your horn.

I thought we were supposed to be in the Afrika Korps?

When in Rome, Cooper!

Be careful with him, David.

Yes, jolly good.

So, you're going to just drive into Benghazi and plant explosives?

Oh, yes. That's the plan.

I like plans that can be explained with one breath.

Benghazi is Rommel's doorway to the Mediterranean.

We're going to blow that door off its hinges.

You'll be able to tell your father victory is spelled SAS.

How will we get into Benghazi?

Oh, war is mostly chaos.

With random explosions, bits of heroism

and lots of self preservation.

Most of the time, soldiers have no fucking idea what's going on.

Italian checkpoints are manned by boys and shopkeepers.

Aren't you going to shave? No. No point.

All you need to get past them is arrogance,

a few German uniforms,

and parachutist Cooper.

He speaks Italian as well as your average Nazi.

The Italians will assume we're trusty German allies.

And if that doesn't work, well, then you just...

..open fire.

Next time we're in an oasis and you pull up a frog, keep it.

Share it with the group.

Bully beef can get terribly monotonous.

BULLET RICOCHETS

GUNSHOT ECHOES

SHOT RINGS OUT

ROUND RICOCHETS

SOLDIER YELLS OUT

HE FIRES ROUND

I have you! Get on your feet!

Put your hands in the air!

SHOT RINGS OUT

MAYNE YELLS OUT

Back off!

I don't believe you. Don't believe me?

I expected better from you.

My commanding officer has some idea that you and I are similar.

A shared love of poetry and philosophy.

I wonder...

..if it's something more or not.

Sh..

Perhaps we should find out.

What say you, Professor?

One go each.

I say, you're fucking insane.

Ye who philosophise on life and death...

Yes, yes.

...you now are looking at the real thing! Stop...

In this moment! Stop!

REVOLVER HAMMER CLINKS

Merde!

You're up.

I offer you a moment.

I have a wife and a child.

I save my bullets for the enemy!

We're here to defeat fascism, not play your games.

I cannot believe you just risked your life for no reason.

I told you the reason.

You would do this purely to discover that I'm not you?

Yeah. That's it?

Yep.

Oh, and listen.

Since I have stopped firing bullets, your men have stopped working.

Work!

Lesson learned about men and the motivation of men.

GUNSHOT ECHOES

Fuck...

See, Mr Jordan...

..SAS training is mostly about what is in here.

Now get back to work.

Do the same, just in case you have to go out with a bang.

How's the old man? FIREARM COCKS

Oh, you know, he's keeping busy. Yeah.

Just think.

If in two minutes' time, we all get a bullet in the head.

It'll your name on the front of the newspapers,

and we'll all be but a footnote.

Rather amusing.

Fuck. No, no, that's good.

That's good. We're in luck.

Ooh, a dandy. Even more good luck.

Tell him I have to shit. I've got dysentery.

HE GROANS

HORN BEEPS

Uh...!

Scheisse, scheisse...!

HORN BEEPS

SHOUTING IN GERMAN

FRUSTRATED SHOUTING

Ah...!

ANGRY SHOUTING

Per favore.

Oh, right. We forgot to put the fucking numbers on the roof.

It was Dudley Clark's job to sort that out.

OFFICERS CONVERSE

Cooper, you're driving on the bloody English side of the road!

Get over!

Jesus bloody Christ...!

Looks like you might make the front pages of the newspapers,

after all, old boy.

Turn left up here. Let's see if they follow.

Don't indicate! When was the last time you saw an Italian soldier

indicating before he turned? Well, I thought we were supposed

to be Germans. Shut up, Cooper. Don't you fucking dare look around.

Cooper!

Shit!

MAN SHOUTS ANGRILY

Sorry, sir. All right.

Right, come on. Cooper.

Turn left up here.

They follow us, we open fire.

Fuck. It's a dead end, sir.

Bloody hell.

Right, two hours to relax before dark, gentlemen.

SOLDIERS CHEER

No-one divides us, Lieutenant Mayne.

Just like me.

Next to the bone is best!

Life close to death

is truly fucking magnificent!

Before you jump, do you have a question?

Pourquoi? Why are we jumping?

Because why the fuck not?

Go!

Go!

Pathetic!

Go!

Go!

Pretty fucking good.

Go!

Pathetic.

Fucking move!

Oh, fucking hell.

Tweedle-fucking-dee!

Mr real thing.

Let's have a good look at you.

Go! Why the fuck not...

Fucking useless!

Go!

Go!

Like a sack of shite.

SOLDIER YELLS OUT

That's fucking diabolical.

Go! Go! Go!

Stand by!

Go!

Go!

That is a fucking order.

MEN SHOUT ENCOURAGEMENT

Silence!

Fuck's sake.

Absolutely no chance.

Get that out of the way now.

That is a fucking order!

Pourquoi pas!

THEY CHEER

He did it! He did it!

LOW ANIMATED CHATTER

Listen out, chaps, prime the 30-minute fuses.

Righty.

You and Jim head for the petrol docks round there. Go on.

Sea kings, you take Cooper and eradicate that harbour.

Churchill, I should hope you've got your swimming cap

Rendezvous back here in 27 minutes.

WHISPERS: Come on.

Right.

FAINT CHATTER

Go!

CLANG!

I don't know any Italian.

You know any German?

Bit of libretto, Wagner.

We have to convince them we're Germans.

Try it.

Run.

SIREN WAILS

Catch!

Fuck!

Shit!

Fucking marvellous!

How the fuck are we going to get out of here now?

How long? About four minutes.

Where the fuck is Stirling?

One more minute and we'll leave him behind.

LOW CHATTER

What the fuck is he doing?

Stand up straight, walk with us.

LOW CHATTER

They've set up roadblocks.

OK, Cooper, we need to try something new.

THEY LAUGH

WHISPERS: Do your line.

THEY LAUGH

WHISPERS: 20 seconds.

LOUD BLAST

MUSIC: Oh! What A Surprise for the Du-ce by Elsie Carlisle

LOUD BLAST

AGITATED CHATTER

They're looking for Germans with beards!

Yes, on reflection, terrible idea not to shave.

Fuck it!

WHISPERS: Hey!

When we're next in his city, especially one where you have created a good deal of chaos,

your approach to checkpoints can be much less subtle.

25!

26!

So, what will you say to your father when we get back to London?

I will say, holy, holy...holy fuck!

SOLDIERS SING JAUNTY TUNE

You shites.

You don't want to join us?

I'm only staying to make sure you don't damage any of our property.

Your men are very drunk.

You make me curious.

Don't you have anyone back in England?

Nobody in England, no. I'm Irish.

And in Ireland, I have a mother.

Why do you ask?

What you did today,

I wondered if you'd do that if you loved someone.

Hmm.

We British don't have these pointless conversations.

RAUCOUS CHANTING

But in my opinion,

loving somebody can make you too fond of life,

which...can turn you into a coward.

A coward?

How so?

My friend, they're just playing. Huh?

It's just the piano.

Your wee loyal German sounds like a Nazi to me.

THEY YELL

Paddy!

You Nazi rat!

Don't touch the piano again!

PADDY RANTS

Calm down, Pad!

Captain Mayne? Get out!

Captain Mayne...whatever is the cause of your pain?

You have my deepest sympathy.

HE PANTS

HE INHALES DEEPLY

I can hear it, but I don't believe it.

What the...? Couple of souvenirs from Benghazi. What's left of it.

I sent you out in an Opel Blitz

and you come back in a fucking pram and a handcart!

Oh, bollocks!

There's a rumour going around in Cairo that Winston Churchill's son

went on a mission behind enemy lines with the SAS.

HE WOLF-WHISTLES

Of course, no-one but a fool like me would believe such a rumour.

Mr Churchill, how was your trip?

Oh, you know, bit of sightseeing.

How the hell did you manage to hitch a ride with my driver?

Oh, she has friends in very high places.

I would like to speak to Mr Churchill.

I have a message for him to give to his father.

Randolph, may I introduce you to a single cause

walking on two legs, with a single goal

and many, many strategies for achieving it?

In London, the British Prime Minister tends not to take General de Gaulle's calls.

I thought I'd try another method of getting his attention.

Well, you certainly have my attention.

Well, permission denied, Randy.

And perhaps you would come with me and explain exactly

how you managed to get a hold of such confidential information.

Your journey was wasted.

Who told you he was being picked up here?

Dudley Clarke.

The other reason I came was to see how you were.

Thank you. For what?

For not smelling of blood or petrol.

I'm sorry.

It takes me a while to get back to normal.

Before I go, I take these, er...amphetamines.

When I get back, I take barbiturates.

I am myself in between.

But...I'm not in between quite yet.

How long?

About an hour after sunset, I will stop shaking.

And then about an hour after that, I will stop hearing explosions.

May I stay for that?

How was Cairo? When the wind blows from the west,

you can hear the Panzer Division straining at the leash.

But also buzzing with talk about the rogue heroes of the SAS

and the phantom major who leads them.

And how is Dudley Clarke responding to all the glory?

It seems he's impatient for your destruction.

The trucks we were given by intelligence...

..for our attack on Benghazi had no code numbers on the roof.

We were sent out as sitting ducks.

As Head of French Intelligence Cairo,

I'm officially warning you to be aware

of your own intelligence operatives.

They do not all mean you well.

So, you see, I'm not just devoted to one cause,

I'm also concerned for you.

Did I hear Head of French Intelligence Cairo?

I reported my boss for being a drunk.

For the good of France, I do bad things.

Oh, God!

SHE CHUCKLES

You're quite a number, aren't you?

What is a number?

As a general rule, I avoid possession and being possessed.

So please do not waste your concern on me. I am sorry.

Your life is no business of mine.

You can make it your business.

Why the fuck are they not training?

Oh, dear.

Yeah.

My men have refused to work under the Captain Mayne's command.

My men have decided that he's a madman.

Two of them have broken jaws.

One has three broken ribs.

And among the broken bottles on the floor,

you'll find several teeth.

All right, I will speak to him!

He needs to be put in a fucking cage!

Destroy many planes?

Two boats.

We're counting boats now, are we?

Yes!

I knew you would make a fucking useless training officer!

I knew you were deeply unsuited to the task!

So, why did you do it? I did it because you were proving to be

a more effective commanding officer than me.

I did it to win the game. There it is.

If this is some kind of double bluff,

I'm telling you, it isn't very smart.

Oh, it's the truth!

My father taught me to win at everything, in any way possible.

Who shot the gazelle? It was that or a Frenchman.

Why did you fight them? Because they're French.

So, it's your daddy's fault?

Oh, yes. Because of my daddy, I already feel the urgent need to shoot a gazelle to match you.

Go fucking shoot one, then. Apologise to the French!

No fucking chance!

There's a herd of gazelle two miles from here.

Go get it out of your system.

I blame my father. What's your excuse for being such a mad fucker?

I don't need a fucking excuse.

One night, someone's going to come in here and slit your throat.

They are welcome to try!

What sort of boats?

Torpedo boats.

Yes, and half the harbour. What a shame you missed it.

And you're serious about the gazelle?

Yes. You want to shoot one, you need to shoot a gazelle?

Oh, yes. Good.

Because they've probably all fucked off now anyway.

Oh, you mad Irish cunt!

Ah, the use of Irish as an adjective

is very provoking.

Oh, yeah? So we go to it. You and me in the sand, come on!

I would beat you to death. I would pull a knife.

I'd take your knife from you, cut off your balls and stir them into a Bloody Mary,

which I would then force-feed down your Jacobean throat.

You need to forget about Eoin McGonigal.

There.

That was me pulling a knife.

It's best for you to leave this tent right now. No.

I know you went to find him, to bury him properly.

Well, now you MUST bury him in your head.

No-one can bear undeclared grief, Paddy.

Now, I am going to relieve you of your training duties.

I didn't find his body.

I didn't find his body.

I know.

PADDY BREATHES DEEPLY

Paddy? Churchill's son turned up, as promised.

He came with us. He's very impressed.

He will lobby for us with his father.

Also, we are apparently the talk of Cairo.

Now is our moment.

I'm going to ask GHQ for Jeeps,

Vickers machine guns, ammunition, explosives, more men.

The war is in the balance.

We can change the course of it, while you...

sulk like Achilles in your tent.

I'll not apologise.

But you can tell the Frenchmen that I shot that gazelle for them.

And that I will roast it on a fire and share the meat with them.

I am gradually coming around to the notion

that they might actually be good men.

All our men are good men.

They just have the misfortune to be led by us.

Come on, I'll help you cook this fucking thing.

LOW CHATTER

PADDY BANGS POT

HE ADDRESSES MEN IN FRENCH

Come on, boys! Come on!

To our future jollies together and the defeat of fascism!

THEY CHEER

Why don't you pretend to be bloody civilised and get in a line?

DOG BARKS