Original subtitles

Gentlemen, the colonel.

Gentlemen...

this is war...

and war on the continent.

The regiment has its sailing orders.

We entrain at dawn for France.

Upon you, gentlemen, depends the scotch tradition.

You are the descendants

of those highland chieftains

who rallied behind Wallace

and who conquered under Bruce.

Your forefathers

risk their honor in your keeping.

I know that you will preserve it

with integrity.

I know that you will not fail

those faithful highland men

who look to your names for leadership.

It would be idle for me to warn you

that this will be no border skirmish.

We go to meet highly-trained,

perfectly armed soldiers...

the best organized army in the world.

A European war

promises to be long and bitter.

It may not be given us

to survive the victory.

It will be our portion

to show the way to the armies who will follow us.

Scotland expects no more from you

than your fathers always have given...

that you will fight bravely

for the honor of the highlands,

for the protection of your people,

and for your loyalty to his majesty.

- The King! - The King!

David my lad, how about a song?

> Maxwellton braes

> are Bonnie

> where early falls the dew...

The field marshal's compliments, sir.

Will captain King report at once?

My respects to the field marshal.

Captain King?

Kindly report at white hall.

- Immediately? - Immediately, sir.

> Gave me

> her promise

> true

> which ne'er

> forgot

> will be

> and for Bonnie...

It's evidently very urgent.

With your permission, sir.

> I lay me

> doon

> and Dee

> gave me

> her promise true

> which ne'er

> forgot will be

> and for Bonnie

> Annie

> Laurie

> I lay

> me

> doon

> and Dee.

- Captain King? - Yes, sir.

> There's no place

> like home

> there's no place

> like home...

> be it ever so humble

> there's no place

> like home.

then why don't you go home?

Blasted, what's the matter wit' ya?

I don't think he likes music.

> Now break the news

> to mother...

- Captain King? - Yes, sir.

This way, please.

Captain King.

Captain King, sir.

Presently.

Have a chair, King.

Thank you, sir.

You've filled out in 10 years.

You were a slender sub-lieutenant

when I visited your father's regiment in peshawar.

Now let's see, King.

Your permanent regiment is the black watch.

Yes, sir.

But for the past six years,

you've been attached to the khyber rifles.

Yes, sir.

You've spoken the Indian border dialects

- since boyhood? - I was born there, sir.

Pashto, hindustani and the rest like a native?

Yes, sir.

Well, King.

A very serious situation exists here.

We are stripping India of troops for France,

leaving the frontier weakly guarded.

A holy war starting here

in territory not under British rule

would be ruinous!

These hillmen have always been troublesome.

But now we find they are led by some woman

known as yasmani.

It appears she claims

some mysterious origin.

At any rate, she has such an extraordinary personality

that she can sway these fanatics

to hail her as their leader

and obey her rule.

They hail her as a goddess.

Now at any moment

she may lead her fanatical hordes

down the khyber pass,

which would give over our peaceful subjects of India

to the horrors

of a holy war.

They look to us for protection

and we won't let them down.

Your mission will be

to prevent that holy war.

But, sir, I'm leaving tomorrow

with the regiment for France.

You're not leaving for France, King.

You're leaving for India.

Your mission is secret,

so that you may not explain to anyone

that you're not just slinKing away,

not even to your own brother officers.

You're going under a cloud...

Alone.

Don't ask this, sir.

You know our family.

There's been a King with the regiment in every war.

Your father wouldn't have said that, King.

He was a soldier and he obeyed orders.

Is this an order, sir?

It's an order.

I'm ready for duty, sir.

Ah, King, you're back.

You're just in time for a deoch andoris.

My request for reassignment to the khyber rifles

has been approved, sir.

Orders will be forwarded within an hour.

Your request, King?

My request, sir.

Then you won't be going with the regiment tomorrow.

No, sir.

You're returning to India at this time

when your country has need

of every trained man she has in France?

I'm returning to India, sir.

Oh.

Sorry, King.

A nice place, India,

now that we're leaving for...

sing "auld lang syne," David.

Yes, David, "auld lang syne."

> Should auld acquaintance

> be forgot

> and never brought

> to mind?

Donald?

Brother,

aren't you going with us to France?

No, laddie, I'm going to India.

But why?

I can't tell you.

But you'll be the soldier of the family

in this war, Malcolm.

You'll do the fighting.

And you won't fail.

I won't fail.

Good boy.

Go inside, laddie.

Join your pals.

> For auld lang syne

> my dear

> for auld

> lang syne

> we'll drink

> a right

> gude-Willy waught

> for the sake

> of auld lang syne.

- Best of luck, boys! - Good luck!

Company, right face!

And when you're in battle, my love,

do not forget you're a mactavish, Sandy!

And your wife is a macnabb!

Aye.

Eh, and Sandy, when you get to Ken the Paris hussies,

do not forget you're a married man.

Aye!

Eh, and watch for when you sit down

and pull down your kilt.

Do not forget, you're a member of the church.

And hide your shame.

Och, aye!

Eh, and do not forget

to give your rum ration

to some wee-bit drinkin' lad that needs it.

Aye, Jenny.

I'll give it to the first wee drinkin' lad that needs it

worse than the mactavish!

You'd be as will!

Dah!

Halt!

Right face!

Left flank!

At ease!

Angus! Angus!

Angus! Here we are in here!

- Here! - Daddy!

Daddy! Here we are! Daddy!

Entrain!

> Oh, ye take

> the high road

> and I'll

> take the low road...

sorry you're not going with us, King.

Well, cheerio, King!

India, eh?

> Will never

> meet again...

Oi, Chuck!

I'll see you in aberdeen!

Andy! Andy, no!

B company, halt!

Right face!

> oh, ye take the high road

> and I'll take the low road...

Daddy daddy daddy!

Daddy daddy!

Now give me a little smile.

> Me and my true love

> will never

> meet again

> on the Bonnie

> Bonnie banks

> o' loch

> lomond.

Daddy! Daddy!

Daddy! Daddy!

Take me with you, father. Take me with you.

No no, Lassie, no. Go on back to your mother.

She's waiting on you.

And give her this kiss for me.

Aye, sergeant,

bein' a bachelor,

you're Ken that a wee bit of war

is a grand relief

to a married man.

Och, aye.

About face!

Entrain!

Top fellow!

All present and entrained, sir.

Very good.

I wish you very good luck, colonel.

Thank you. Goodbye.

> Gave me

> her promise true

> which ne'er

> forgot

> will be...

oh, Angus! Angus!

My poor wee baby!

For all the violence I have displayed

toward my fellow man,

Allah, forgive me.

Ho!

At ease.

- King, sahib. - Mohammed Khan.

You're the last man I expected to see in India.

I thought you were in France

with your lancers.

The raj deems me too old.

I, who first rode in battle

behind thy father

40 years ago.

But King, sahib, why art thou not with thy scots?

You and I have been shunted from the real show

in flanders, Mohammed.

But there's a soldier's job in India

for both of us.

King, sahib!

There'll be no glory in it.

You'll not be riding at the head of 100 lancers;

no pennant flying;

no pipes playing.

A dirty job at the best.

Do you want to come along?

King, sahib, I have eaten thy salt

and thy father's salt.

Sahiba? Sahiba?

Yasmani, sahiba,

the strong one stands below.

Here comes that drunken swine, captain King.

On hand as usual for his evening's whiskey swilling.

By jove, he'll drink himself out of the service.

Yes, India is full of such rotters since the war.

Well, slacKing is bad enough

without fraternizing with these scurvy natives.

The scurvy native you refer to

is major Mohammed Khan,

who holds the highest rank possible

in his majesty's army...

a gallant soldier and a gentleman.

Good day, sir.

The general seems in a bit of a huff!

But you notice he didn't have a good word to say for King, though.

No.

How are you, old chap?

Boy, how about a peg of whiskey?

And soda.

My country has kept its promise.

Vast stores of ammunition have reached the hills.

Arrange for our departure...

Shortly.

For a week past,

captain King has looked often

at my window.

Thou shalt bring him to my house.

You are in danger here,

yasmani.

It is safer in the hills

among your tribesmen.

Safer for thee, rewa ghunga.

The British have no love for a native

conspiring against them.

Everything is in readiness...

munitions, guns,

your men.

An empire is at stake.

Thou shalt have princely power

in good time.

Bring captain King to me.

I say... I say, you fellows,

I've just heard the most ripping story.

It concerns two irishmen, pat and Mike!

Oh, don't go away!

Or rather I should say Patrick and Michael.

They were doing something. I forget what they were doing.

But one said to the other,

"bi' cor' eye"...

excuse me, old chap, I've got a lot to do.

- I must go home. - Excuse me.

I say, I've just heard

the most ripping story!

It concerns two irishmen...

some other time, old chap.

Boy,

two whiskeys and soda.

I'm not drinKing with you!

I didn't ask for whiskey and soda for two.

I said, "two whiskeys and soda."

It's very much like the...

Yes, we have some quite dull evenings here.

- You can come along sometime. - Thank you.

We have all sorts of social

and sometimes regimental event...

your pardon, rewa ghunga?

But I was distracted

by captain King's drinKing again.

Unfortunate.

Odd...

He should be in India at this time.

Wasn't he with a scots regiment

when war broke out?

In this case, the war office

may have its own very good reasons

for transfer, rewa ghunga.

Mmm.

I don't presume to know.

Quite so.

I say, King, that reminds me of a ripping story

about two blackamoors, sambo and topsy.

Oh, keep your beastly stories to yourself.

King! Gentlemen!

- Gentlemen, please! - Really?

Well, you're a drunken bounder!

- You're a less-born... - Now listen, King!

And a cad besides!

Yes, and you're a nasty, filthy drunken swine!

Now listen, King!

- Colonel matranel? - Sir?

What is the meaning of this disgraceful conduct?

Place captain King under arrest

and have him brought to my office immediately.

Yes, sir.

Captain King?

Follow me.

The fall must have fractured his skull, sir.

He's dead.

Awkward mess.

Rewa ghunga?

Politics, out of the hands of the club.

I understand.

One expects such outbursts

from these virile Europeans.

This is a very serious business.

I feel very sorry for captain King.

Oh, save your regrets.

At last the service has the chance

of getting rid of a bounder.

Excuse me.

Certainly.

- That'll be all, men. You may go. - Hurry! File out.

Now you understand, doctor,

neither now nor ever

may you disclose what has transpired.

I understand, sir.

Neither now nor ever.

Yes, sir.

And thank you for your help in the matter too, doctor.

A capital bit of acting, King.

Most convincing.

But far too realistic, sir.

That punch almost fractured my jaw.

- Sorry, old man. - Incidentally, twynes,

you will be buried with full military honors tomorrow,

and for the benefit of yasmani's agents.

I'm sorry I can't attend your funeral, old chap.

Now gentlemen, we have no time to waste.

Is rewa ghunga convinced I'm a renegade, sir?

Without a doubt.

Then he'll rush the news to yasmani.

Yasmani is a woman enflamed with power.

You must realize, King,

that the fanatical natives regard her as a goddess,

a native Joan of arc.

Not quite saintly, though...

partial to stall with men.

If you should win her interest, King...

she has already shown interest, sir.

But I don't like the idea

of hiding behind a woman's skirts.

Oh, forget your schoolboy scruples.

This is war. Yasmani is our enemy.

She threatens the country with disaster.

If her favor can further your mission,

don't hesitate to use it.

This is the dirtiest job I've ever tackled.

But I'll see it through, sir.

Good. Now when you get to the hills,

you'll destroy their ammunition dump.

Your job is to rob yasmani of her power.

And if I fail, sir?

Others will follow you.

Others have been before and never returned.

Oh, by the way,

the last was your old chum macgregor.

The best of luck, old man.

Thanks.

Major Mohammed Khan

with meet you with a detail of lancers in the khyber.

> Number one and all's well!

the guard, sir...

has full instructions.

> Number two and all's well!

ready, sir.

Here's for ye, Malcolm lad.

I won't fail you either.

Ready. Load.

Present. Fire.

Hide! Hide out!

Thou art a fugitive now, captain King?

A fugitive and a murderer.

I had heard.

But how?

Quite so, captain King.

I carried the news.

I must get out of India at once.

They're yapping at my heels.

One can leave India

even now.

Yasmani!

That man,

he is no son of the prophet!

I command you...

command?

Thou could'st find

riches and glory

in my service.

In your service,

even death.

But it is not wise to lead an infidel

among the faithful.

Infidel or not,

mine eyes have marked him

for my service.

Mine eyes rove more

than becomes a goddess.

A caravan

travels through the khyber pass tonight

by a secret route.

Thou wilt join it.

Thou hast the build of a man,

captain King.

In the hills

much will be revealed to thee.

You will meet many like yourself

in the hills, captain King...

soldiers, deserters,

who fled after the climax

of a blood feud.

Those whom the British

call murderers.

- Och! - Aye!

It's queer, sergeant, how a man

gets out of touch with the world.

I haven't even heard Saturday's football results.

- Och, aye? - Aye.

Have you heard from your brother, King?

Not a word.

Well, don't worry. He couldn't be

in a safer place than India.

If you don't stop your slurs on Donald, I'll kill you.

Laddie laddie laddie.

I swear I will!

My brother is not a slacker.

He... he wouldn't fail me. He couldn't!

Steady, laddie, steady. You're needin' a rest, I'm thinKing.

- But Donald is not a slacker. - Of course he isn't.

You don't think my brother would leave me...

wherever your brother is, he's doing his job.

Now quiet down, laddie. Have a fag.

I'm sorry, kid.

Cigarette, Joe?

Whoa! Whoa!

Who are you?

We are for the hills

and for her service.

What seek ye in her service?

A mullah passing through our village

promised us fighting and much loot

in the holy war.

What proof have ye

of thy right to aid?

We have the tunic,

belt and the pistol

of a British officer sahib

whom we have slain this night.

Ye are for the hills.

The way to the caves

is there.

But be warned:

Not all who enter

return by this road.

What horrible torture, Mohammed.

Who are those men opening that door

on this terrible thing?

British soldiers, sahib,

and loyal subjects of the raj

who have been taken prisoner.

Go faster!

Go!

- Macgregor? - Sahib?

Macgregor?

This is King... Donald King.

In God's name, be on your guard

- every second. - Go go!

My eyes were put out because I spied on them.

All Europe is at war. Your regiment is in France.

God be with them.

I'll get you out somehow.

Never mind me! You carry on.

Carry on.

Carry on.

It is written:

"Kill the unbeliever

wheresoever thou shalt find them!

Make them prisoners

and despoil them.

For whosoever shall fight

for the religion of Allah,

whether he be slain

or be victorious,

we shall surely give him

a great reward."

Summon all newcomers for judgment.

And thou, the strong one...

who stands sponsor for thee?

Why, you yourself

stand sponsor for me, harrim bey.

Nay!

I know nothing of thy worthiness.

We must have proof!

I stand sponsor for him.

It is an honor.

But has it not always

been our custom here

for all newcomers

to test their strength?

Will you wrestle for our sport?

You...

Hear me, my hillmen,

my warriors.

The hour of the warrior is at hand.

Soon thou shalt taste

the joys of battle.

The fruits of victory

shall be thine.

Music will play softly

for your ease.

And virgins

will dance for your desires.

Bull with a beard,

he knows where the ammunitions are, sahib.

- We get him. - Sahib?

Yasmani wishes to see you.

- Ready. - All right, sahib.

Allow me to show you the way, captain King.

Thank you, rewa ghunga.

Take a squad, release the prisoners.

Bring macgregor sahib to me.

Sahib.

We follow bull with a beard.

Bull with a beard, where is the ammunition thou promised us?

There is no ammunition!

I'll have thee hanged!

Aye, long have I desired

to trim thy glorious beard, harrim bey.

Thou dog!

I'll have thee boiled in oil!

- Oil! - Oil, sire.

What a glorious beard. In all my travels I have ne'er beheld

so glorious, gorgeous beard as thine.

I think it would look better curled.

Where is the ammunition?

The ammunition is there.

Ahhh!

Now we can talk, we three,

of glory, wealth

and power.

I prefer to talk of something else.

Something else?

I thought we were going to talk

of conquest

with the wild tribesmen

pouring over defenseless India

behind their goddess.

It seems their goddess

is only a woman.

Still a goddess to them, rewa ghunga.

They would tear any man limb from limb

at my command.

Are we to lose an empire

for a woman's desire?

Still an unsuited boy.

Come closer.

The women of the Western world have taught thee poorly.

The sign of the faithful is not needed with me.

I summoned thee, captain King,

because Aryan blood flows in my veins

as in thine.

A white woman in these hills?

Yes, captain King...

a white woman.

Into this land, Alexander the great

led a mighty army

countless ages ago

and took a wife from these northern hills.

From him

I am descended.

I remember

one of those early invasions of India

had failed.

There is a prophesy

that when a woman of Alexander's line

shall find a mate ordained to rule these tribesmen,

that conquest

shall be fulfilled!

So that is the reason

these hillmen acclaim you as their goddess.

I looked long for that mate

who would fulfill the prophesy...

a leader, strong, brave,

white.

Allah has marked thee

for that glory.

I have been lonely,

captain King,

for I am a woman.

It is not good to be a goddess

when one is young...

cold, chaste

and far off.

It is sweeter to be a woman

to one man

than a goddess to thousands.

It can't be.

Men have forgotten before.

Antony squandered an empire

for Cleopatra's favor.

Am I less precious to thee

than she was in his arms?

You don't understand.

Since I saw thee first 'neath my window in peshawar,

mine eyes have longed for thee.

- And guard them well. - Salaam!

Guards, salaam! Guards! Allah!

For all the violence I have displayed

towards my fellow man,

Allah forgive me.

We ride down the khyber at the head of my hillmen...

Together

to win an empire by the dawn.

I will go with you,

follow you anywhere.

But we can't turn those wild tribesmen loose

to ravish a peaceful country.

It only means killing...

needless cruelty.

Empires are not won

by mercy, Donald.

The thought of such conquest is madness.

It is wisdom.

Now is the appointed time.

Europe is destroying herself

as the prophesy foretold.

Her best sons are dying like flies.

I have seen it.

I will show you.

Look.

Hold my hands...

Tightly.

Concentrate.

Think of those men

you used to know,

unfortunates being mowed down

in the mud of flanders.

Think...

think of those men.

Think of those men...

Come on, boys!

Come on!

Take me with you, father.

Take me with you.

Sorry we're late, sir.

Quite all right. Carry on.

Very good, sir.

Malcolm.

Are you hard hit, laddie?

Malcolm, lad!

That was my regiment...

the black watch.

My brother is wounded,

perhaps dead.

And I've been lying here

forgetting everything...

duty, honor, loyalty;

faithless to my trust.

Donald,

am I not thine?

And art thou not mine?

I was sent here to betray you,

rob you of your power to prevent this holy war.

Thy mission was known to me.

But it mattered not,

for Allah sent thee to me.

It can't be.

Don't go.

Thou art but one man

against these merciless thousands.

Everything's in readiness, sahib.

We found the guns and ammunition.

- Good. Macgregor? - Has been freed, sahib.

- Splendid. - We stole it from thy quarters, sahib.

Thank you. Now everybody to the top of the steps now.

Hurry! Guns in position.

- Release the prisoner. - You take the right, the left.

For all the violence I have displayed

toward my fellow man...

Allah, forgive me.

Hands to the right.

Everybody, ready!

Come on, step to it. Machine guns.

- 1! 2! 3! 4! - Sahib!

- Where have you been? - Praying, sahib.

Take the left flank.

- Macgregor. - King.

Put this in your hand, Mac.

- Thank you. - Doesn't it feel good?

There they are, Mac, in front of you.

Kneel.

It'll be hot in a minute.

Sahib.

Yasmani, those machine guns are in position.

It would mean needless slaughter to oppose us now.

You can prevent it.

At your bidding, your hillmen

would lay down their arms and disperse.

Will you give the word?

Thou hast triumphed.

Art thou my followers?

Wilt thou obey my command?

Aye!

Lay down your arms and disperse!

The traitoress!

Stand fast, Mac. You're in charge now.

Stand up, buddy.

Bayonets, en guard.

Yasmani?

My soul

is long for thee,

Donald.

My head has rested on thy breast.

My lips have burned on thine.

Henceforth,

no other woman's lips

can kiss thee

without thou be reminded of me.

Thy memory of yasmani

will never die.

King...

Sahib.

Mohammed,

send one of your men

to the general office of command

in northwest frontier.

Have him deliver this message:

"The job

is finished.

King."

Sahib.

Gentlemen, the colonel.

Gentlemen,

it's but a few minutes midnight,

the beginning of a new year

and the hour for renewing old friendships

and re-pledging ancient loyalties.

During the long relentless months of war,

the regiment

has upheld the bravest traditions of our country.

I salute you, gentlemen,

on behalf of those highland chieftains

whose honor you have so ably preserved,

and for your loyalty to his majesty

the King.

The King!

King!

King? King?

- Good evening, sir. - Good evening.

My request for reassignment to the black watch has been approved.

I'm reporting for duty, sir.

The latest "gazette"

has news of interest for you gentlemen.

Major King of the black watch

has been awarded the D.S.O.

For gallant service to the crown in India.

Glad you're back, King.

Thank you, sir.

- Just like old times. - David,

do you feel equal to it?

> Should auld acquaintance

> be forgot

> and never brought

> to mind?

> should auld acquaintance

> be for naught

> in the days

> of auld

> lang syne?

> for auld

> lang syne

> my dear

> for auld

> lang syne...

- Aw, hi! - Hi.

> We'll drink

> a right

> gude-Willy waught

> for the sake

> of auld

> lang syne

> for auld

> lang syne

> my dear

> for auld

> lang syne

- > we'll drink... - Malcolm.

> A right

> gude-Willy waught

> for the sake

> of auld lang syne.

top fellow, Malcolm.

Happy new year!