Original subtitles

Meet the gang cause the boys are here, the boys to entertain you.

With music and laughter to help you on your way to raising the robbers with a

hey, hey, hey.

With songs and sketches and jokes old and new. With us about you and Bill

So meet the gang cause the boys are here, the boys to entertain you.

B -O -B -O -Y -S, boys to entertain you.

All last night, I am lying awake on my charpoint.

Now, you have not seen my charpoint, and I am not going to show it to you

because it is very secret.

It was given to me by concert party, who do not like me lying on a mat in the

doorway of their bachelor.

Oh, the fine men of the Royal Artillery Concert Party.

They have hearts so big that it is bringing lumpy to my throat.

Me, a humble bearer.

They are feeling sorry for me because they are falling over me.

when they are creeping out at night, crying, where's the flaming bucket?

So they give me this charpo.

And last night, I'm lying on this charpo beside the doorway, thinking of all the

wonderful things we British have done for the poor Indians.

You know, before we came here, they did not even have Christmas.

Is it true?

No freaky holly.

No silent night, holy night, when everybody get drunk.

Like us British, they do have birthdays.

And I'm knowing a big secret.

There, tomorrow, is special birthday of Ganapaki Saab. His 21st birthday.

And this is giving me big problem.

Should I tell Sergeant Major Shut -up Saab who thinks he is his daddy?

Ganapaki has sworn at me to be secret.

But I am thinking that I should spill the beans.

Not now, but maybe later when he has finished his lecturing.

Pay attention, lovely boys.

Now, I has been having a word with the colonel, and both of us is very worried

about you.

Oh, yes.

Because one day soon, you see, it's very likely that you will find yourselves

posted up the jungle.

Almost for sure.

Not that the postings have gone through.

Not yet, mind.

What is you eating, gunner Evans?

Berries.

King's regulations clearly state you will not eat berries when being

by a warranted officer.

Swallow. What about the pips? Swallow!

Well done.

Now, when you is finally up there in the jungle, surrounded by the dense and

penetrating growth and reptiles and animals and insects, I want you to

this one phrase.

The jungle is friendly.

What is the jungle?

The jungle is friendly.

That's right.

But you does not look like you believe me, bombardier.

Well, the bit I was in wasn't friendly.

And what makes you say that, bomber, my dear?

It was full of weird sounds and creepy crawly things.

Sounds did not never hurt nobody, bombardier.

What about the spiders?

Aye, one bite and you're in your book. Shut up.

Don't worry about spiders.

He is more frightened of you than you is of them. I very much doubt it.

I very much doubt it.

Suppose Mr. Lauderdale got a grey ham, that a deadly spider were to land on

university -educated head.

Like that.

All you've got to do, Mr. William Lauderdale, tell, is to turn to your

compatriot and tell him to deal with it. Do so.

Deal with it.

Thank you very much indeed.

Well done, good boy. You showed initiative.

But there is a chance, using your method, that you will drive the

fangs into his delicate head.

So, the correct procedure is as follows.

You place your fingers behind the spider thus and flicks him off. Oh!

Can't see in one eye.

From now on, we will have no fear of spiders, will we?

Sergeant Major, now what about snakes? You can't flick them off.

Good question.

Suppose you is preceding along a jungle path and your progress is inbreeded by a

poisonous snake.

What does you do, Boba dear?

Run away.

You does not run away.

Not from spiders, not from snakes, not from jacks, not from nobody.

Rule Britannia, Britannia rule the way.

Shut up.

Always in the jungle, you will have in your section a forked stick of this

Now, Bombardier, has the concert party property department made me a artificial

snake? Yes, that's the matter.

All right, bring it here.

It's an artificial snake.

Who's responsible for it? Who's responsible?

I am, Sergeant Major. Good boy.

Now, your snake is on the ground, sliding smoothly along.

You guess behind it in this manner.

Make the snake slide smoothly along over here.

You aims.

And you thrust.

What? He is trapped. What do you do now?

Shoot it.

Good boy, but wrong.

See, if you shoots it, you gives away your position.

And every Japanese neighbourhood would be after you.

And he does not want that, does he?

Now, Sergeant Major.

Quite right, quite right. He knows he's got common sense.

Now, you holds it there and you finishes him off by scrunching him with the heel

of your boot, thus.

If you were soldiers instead of a load of poops, you'd realise it was either

or you. You've got no choice.

I mean, you're not going to go very far, you know, if it feels queasy about

crushing a snake's head under your foot.

I don't think it was that, Sergeant Major.

I think it was the thought of crushing one of Parky's old socks under his foot.

Shut up.

Any questions?

Yes. When you've killed it, can you eat it?

Yes, you can eat it. You spit it down the middle, take out the indigestible

particles, and roast them.

You'd have to be hungry.

It's not amazing. There is one thing. The hooded cobra's head stands up like

that, and then it does a sort of eccentric undulation.

Eccentric undulation.

However,

I is glad, in spite of your universe, the pansified way of putting it, I is

that you brought that up.

I couldn't help it.

To deal with the kind of snake what you are subscribed, what do you do, anybody?

Well, Sergeant Major, well, in Australia, they have these aboriginals,

pick them up by the tail, crack them like a whip, and splat their heads fly

You should lose no time in getting your hands on one of these.

The best snakehead chopper offer known to mankind.

A Japanese samurai sword.

Blimey, where did you get that, Sergeant Major?

You may well ask.

Come and sit down, bombardier.

Can I stay here near the door?

Get back in your place.

I got this from a Japanese officer.

How much did you give him?

How much did I give him?

I'll tell you what I'd give him.

I'd give him a kick up the behind.

He was so surprised he dropped it and ran.

My mum's got a smashing sword hanging on the wall.

Curved it is with wiggly designs on the blade.

Warrant officer, 4th Dragoon.

That's right.

How did you know?

Well, you've subscribed it so well, boy. I mean, there's very few of them left,

you know.

She said it was given to her by a very dear friend.

Did she say that?

Well, surely they don't use those things in modern warfare, do they, Sergeant

Major? That's yet to show how much who knows about it, isn't it? They certainly

does use them, and I'm going to show you how.

Gunner Sugden, come here and bring your rifle.

So may.

Yes, you, move yourself, move yourself.

Now, the Samurai's tool is a two -handed weapon, gripped thus, or if you

was a left -handed job, thus.

Now, Gunner Sugden, you...

As a British soldier.

For observing you, the Japanese officer will behave in this fashion.

I'll not be chucked in half.

And you can do what you will.

You can practice on me, Sergeant Major. I don't mind.

Crawler. Who said that? Who said it?

There you are, see?

Whoever said that is not man enough to admit it, Eden.

Let alone stand there by that brave boy.

He's not man enough.

Papa dear, I never thought I'd live to see the day.

I'm not volunteering.

I wanted permission to go for a tinkle.

Shut up.

Sit down, listen, and learn.

On being confronted by Japanese officer bearing samurai sword,

the British soldier is advised to follow this procedure.

Vertical party thus, butt to the chin. Or it's on the left, butt to the chin.

it's on the right, barrel to the chin.

Boots to the groin. Any questions? No? Try it.

For the purpose of this experiment, my stick,

Reprehends a samurai sword.

Right.

Of my stick.

Sorry, Sergeant Major.

I've had that 18 years.

I only did what you showed me. No, you didn't. You came at me.

I didn't want to hit you. I was not going to hit you.

That was pretend.

King's regulations clearly state that warrant officers will not hit gunners

sticks.

But we made it with a bit of glue. No, you cannot make it with a bit of glue.

18 years I've had that.

18.

Glorious you.

You.

You ought to break it.

Blimey. What about that?

Never seen him like that before.

The man was greeting.

I swear it. They were real... gears in his eye. I didn't do it on purpose.

I reckon it's time for dinner.

Do you think I ought to buy him a new one?

Whatever for?

He's a low foot.

And he's not got the damn thing broken.

He's ever so cut up.

I don't want to upset him like... Crawler.

Shut up, Nobby.

Well, I'm going to get him a kill. Anybody coming?

Shut up!

Hey, Mohammed.

I'm going to let you into a secret.

Look what I have made as present for Pakistan.

A golden key.

It is very beautiful.

It is for his 21st birthday, and his key to his house is blighty.

But this key will not open a door. It is made of cardboard.

Can you not guess why it is made of cardboard?

In England they have paper houses, like in Japan.

You ruddy fool.

It is what we're calling hypothetical key.

Now, before you make any more stupid remarks, let me explain.

We British have a tradition.

When boys and girls come of age, give them key to front door, and they can

and go as they please.

You mean, until they're 21, they have to use the back door?

Don't be silly, Burke.

Listen.

When you are 21, you come of age.

This means if there is election, you can go into polling booth and put craft and

election paper.

You can marry a boy or a girl, depending on your sex, without permission of your

mummy and daddy.

And you can drive a steamroller.

Do you have any questions?

Yes.

Why this key is made of cardboard?

These are for you, sir.

Thank you.

And these are for you. Thank you. Where do I find the concert party, sir?

They're the other side of the parade garage. Thank you, sir.

None for the BSM again?

No, rotten luck. I don't suppose he has many friends.

Probably the ones he has don't like him.

How have you done?

Only one, I'm afraid. It's better than nothing.

What's for the income tax?

I owe them £1 .84 from 1940.

Well, tell them to come and get it.

My word, I'm surprised you lot know anyone clever enough to write.

I saw your show last night. Oh, yeah, who do you reckon?

Bloody awful.

Right, going to Perkins.

Parkins. Parkins.

Going to sub them. Yeah.

One, two, three, four, five, six.

They're all from your girlfriend.

It's easily done.

Governor Clark.

Aye, here you are. Nothing for you.

Governor Graham.

B .A.

Thank you very much. That'll be from my tutor at Cambridge.

Thank you.

Bombardier Bournemouth. Oh, lovely.

Hey, that's a nice fattening, isn't it?

Perhaps somebody sent you some new jokes.

You could do with them if you asked me.

I fell out with Craig laughing at some of them gags you were telling last

We just don't cater for your sophisticated tastes.

Woman's Weekly, Gloria. Who sent you that?

My mother.

I have to keep up with the fashions.

I like the problem page.

What it tarts up the spoke.

My tutor wants to know whether I find my companions intellectually stimulating.

Oh, yeah? What are you going to tell him?

What's that, Parky?

21 the day?

You're not 21 the day, are you?

Day after tomorrow, I am.

Isn't that sweet?

What does it say?

Usual soppy things, you know.

Go on, read it. No.

Go on. Go on, Parky.

You must have laughed.

Your childhood days have passed away. Your boyhood is no more.

It's time to turn your manly thoughts to what is now in store.

Here's some sound advice, young man, wherever you may be, do not forget those

little prayers you learnt at mother's knee.

God, everybody is now

knowing that it is gonna park his 21st birthday, and I am no longer bound by

sacred oath, so I'm telling you, sir.

21, eh?

Just fancy that.

Day after tomorrow, sir.

Let's see.

About right, I suppose.

Do you remember when you was 21, sir?

Oh, yes.

Well, no, not exactly.

I don't know, well, just exactly what day I was born on, see?

Oh, sir, what sadness.

Did your mummy die when you were a tiny baby?

No, I don't think, well, I don't know, really.

See, I was found.

On the steps of a convent.

In a beer crate.

Saab, what unhappiness to have no mummy and no daddy.

And what does this make a man?

It's true.

I was found in a beer crate.

For the first three years of my life, I was called Two Bob Deposit.

That's bloody bad luck for your mummy to be so poor that she has to give away

such a fine boy to Convent.

Well, she couldn't have been all that poor, could she?

Otherwise, she got the Two Bob back on her crate.

Hey, be careful.

That's as sharp as a razor, that thing. Do you know one sort of thing in the

jungle? I shave with that.

Oh, what a wonderful, brave man you are, Tom.

When so easily you could have cut off your ruddy head.

Now, it takes a steady hand. The lips is a tricky bit.

I can see that, Sarge. I can see that. And what a good thing that you have such

a big mouth.

You do not salute warrant officers, boy.

You should know that.

I'm sorry, Sergeant Major. I wasn't thinking.

Well, that's not like you.

I mean, generally speaking, I would have said he was a good thinker.

I didn't think much when I done this.

Aye, well, that was your self -preservative instincts coming into

You move like grease lightning.

It's born in you, boy. When he was threatened, you react.

What did you do that for, Sergeant Major?

I was testing your reaction.

He did not move a muscle's heart.

No.

Nerves of steel.

I am very sorry, Sergeant Major.

I will say no more about it.

There it is, Thub. All shiny like new.

Oh, not bad, eh?

Considering it's 200 years old.

Oh, is it really?

Could I hold it, Sergeant Major?

What?

Griffith Firm.

Oh, that's great, isn't it?

I'd give anything to have a sword like this.

Would you, boy?

Please. Well, then when the war was over, Mum could hang this on the wall as

well.

She could, couldn't she?

It'd be a good place for it, wouldn't it?

Beside the other one.

I'll have to get one off a Jap officer like you did.

Oh, it's guts for her, isn't it? Oh, tippy -up old block, isn't it, sir?

Anyway, thanks for not blaming me too much about your stick.

It's all right, boy.

Oh, really, I'm very sorry, Sergeant Major.

Go on. Get back to your bottle.

It's a fine boy.

One of the finest I ever met.

And he's got his mother's eyes.

Oh, sir, what torture it must be for you to have such a fine boy and not to be

able to hold him to your great chest and kiss him.

I want him to have this.

Oh, sir, we will be filled up to here with overjoy.

You must give it to him for his birthday.

That's right.

For his 21st birthday.

Oh, he's not given him much his last 20... No, hang on, I can't.

Depot orders clearly state that warrant officers and NCOs cannot give or receive

gifts or favours to or from other ranks.

Sir, you must speak to Colonel, sir.

He's a very wise man, especially when he is listening.

You might have something there, Angie.

Do you know?

I do believe that's the best idea you's ever had. And what is more, Sergeant

Major Thub, it is neither sneaky nor wicked.

That's right, Ranji. That is right.

It won't work.

Well, sir, the upshot of all that triangle is I would like permission to

the sword to Gunner Parkins. I see. Why?

Well, it's his birthday, sir.

His 21st birthday.

Have you ever given any of the others a 21st birthday present?

No, sir.

Not that I can recall.

Well, why, Parkins?

Oh, he's done well, sir.

I hadn't noticed him particularly.

Well, he wasn't here as a battery clerk. He made an absolute hash of things.

Every man to his trade, sir, he's more the outdoor swashbuckling type.

I wouldn't call him swashbuckling.

I always look on him as a congenital idiot.

I don't think there's anything wrong with him there, sir.

No, no, no. By congenital, I mean inherited.

The Colonel means it's in the blood.

He probably comes from a long line of idiots.

I do not believe that to be the case, sir.

I must say, it's a most unusual request.

Well, he's got no father, sir.

I mean, not one that he knows about.

I see.

I see. You mean your feelings are purely paternal?

Yes, sir. I suppose so, sir.

I mean, you have no other feelings for this young boy you might describe as

of... No, I'm sure he hasn't.

Is that right, madam?

All right, you do as you wish.

Stop.

He's all clear.

Yes. Did you find the man?

Yes, stop. Now, bring him in.

I have with me top hold chap. He sells very best quality Japanese sword.

All made from most fine steel in all Hong Kong.

It's not too much steel.

Nobby, keep a look out for party.

Right, Dory. How much are they? That's the point.

They're very beautiful swords, sir, and very strong, if you're very careful.

How much?

50 rupees, sir.

I've only got 20.

For you, 30 rupees.

Throwing money away.

Well, he's set his heart on it, and after all, it's only five each.

Knock him down to 28, get Parkey a check -in, and it'll only be four each.

You can't ask a man to pay for his own birthday present.

This is very cheap.

It's only 10 rupees.

Oh, that's the one.

Oh, I was excited about that.

That's only two rupees each.

Oh, that's the one. Fine.

No.

For a 21st birthday present, you can't give anybody a suicide sword.

You could use it for a carving knife.

Shut up. Look, that one with the coloured handle, that's right.

We'll have this one.

21 rupees, and that's my last word.

22 rupees up.

Done. We'll give it to him tonight.

Right, now, has anybody got any pretty paper?

We're in the middle of India, and he wants some pretty paper.

Timothy Weitz.

But, sir, your sticky was there yesterday.

I'm seeing it with my very own mince spice.

But,

sir, who would want a broken sticky?

It's got a silver knob on the end, hasn't it? If I find him, I'll cut his

off. When I was passing canteen on the way to clean booth, I heard concert

starting boozy party for birthday.

Well, hey, we'd best hurry then. Where's that parcel?

It's here, sir.

Don't look too bad to it. Oh, never have I seen such a kind presence. And what

delight will be on the face of Parkisov.

Least I can do, I reckon.

Just think, Raji.

21 years and the first time I will again in anything.

21 today, 21 today.

He's got the killer dog.

Parker, we couldn't get you a proper birthday cake.

So we got your birthday banjo.

It's got real chicken in it. Yeah, and we want you to cut it, Parky. On your

feet. Feet, feet.

All right.

This is the best birthday cake anyone could have.

Chicken banjo.

Blimey, they still left the bones in it.

We all tripped in to buy you this.

Blimey. Open it, go on, open it.

That's fantastic.

That's really fantastic, fellas.

Thanks a lot.

Oh, there, Sergeant Major. Come on in, West Park. No,

I was just partying.

Oh, come on, Sergeant Major. He's only 21 months, you know. Yeah, come on.

All this, you fool, give it up. We're so worried about any kind of you. We was

going to send you around an invitation.

Yeah. Randy said you never had a birthday party, so I'd like you to share

You really mean that?

Yeah, of course I do.

Well, I'm afraid I haven't got a birthday present for him.

Well, we haven't got one for you either.

But we have his stick repaired, and maybe that'll do as a sort of present.

It's your top and our bottom.

What does it say?

Have a drink, Sergeant Major.

I would like to wish you health and happiness and a bargain.

Well, I'm not staying.

No!

Devil orders clearly state that warrant officers and gunners will not drink in

each other's company.

Not only that.

You was only allowed four cans of beer a week. You was all out of your rations,

so I'm closing this canteen as of now!

The other man is a warrant officer.

I is allowed as much beer as I want. It's British and it's ice, so two of you

double round the charge of S. Clark and Evans, get six dozen bottles and chalk

it up to me. What are you waiting for? Move yourself!

So Pakisab is 21.

And he is a man. No mistake, isn't it?

But what is the wicked world going to give him?

That is the question.

I have given him something that will be of comfort to him even on the most

lousy, rotten, stinky day.

It is an old Hindu proverb.

And it goes like this.

Yesterday was bad.

Today is worse.

But tomorrow, that will be good, because tomorrow is the first day of the rest

of my life.

The boys are here. The boys to entertain you.

Me!

Help! B -O -Y -S, boys, to entertain you.

End of story.

Mother of the beach.