All language subtitles for Oh! What a Lovely War (1969) TicTaC

I say,
the Archduke's got his wife with him.

I thought they usually kept her
out of sight.

Today is their
14th wedding anniversary.

I see.
So that's why she's been allowed out.

It's a pity he married beneath him.

What on earth will they do with her

when he inerits the Austrian empire?

Perhaps by that time, madame,

Austria will no longer have an empire.

My dear Monsieur Poincar�.

Don't tell me you've got
some delicious piece of gossip.

You must understand, my dear,

that France doesn't approve of Austria
at the moment.

- Oh?
- Against Austria, nothing.

But their foreign minister...

Count Berchtold?
Why, he's absolutely charming.

He wishes to make a war
against Serbia,

so he crawls to the Kaiser for aid.

I don't think there'll be any war.

There speaks the true diplomat.

And if there is, there's certainly no need
for us to get involved.

Yes. Well, I mean,
you know, who cares?

Serbia's such a little country anyway,
you know.

And I mean, they're always
up to something, aren't they?

Serbia is little, madame,

but it will not be a little war.

Well, that's up to you
and the Russians, isn't it?

As you wish.
Please excuse me, madame.

Enchant�e.

Sir Edward.

- My dear Edward.
- Poldy.

Your Majesty, you know

the British Secretary
of State for Foreign Affairs,

Sir Edward Grey.

Count Helmuth von Moltke,
Chief of the German General Staff.

Still expanding your army and navy?

We like to keep busy.

Yes, we're off to sign the...

He's forced me to mobilise...

I see the French President
is hobnobbing with the Czar again.

I really think they mean
to fight with us over Serbia.

Quite ridiculous.

Couldrt you persuade your king
to have a talk to the Czar?

After all, they're cousins.

Why not ask the Kaiser?
He's a cousin of Nicholas, too.

Well, I hope the French haven't
encouraged you to do anything foolish.

Germany is with us.
It could be embarrassing.

- Because our royal family is German?
- Precisely.

I think they may be relied on
to play their part.

Excellent. Excellent.

After all,
the last thing any of us want is a war.

War?

War is unthinkable!

It is out of the question!

It would upset the balance of power.

We Germans are an industrious
and moral people.

We have earned the right to have
our say in the world's affairs.

The Republic of France
is the seat of reason,

the centre of world civilisation
and culture!

Now, look here. The British Empire
is the most magnificent example...

Gentlemen!

Gentlemen.

Ready for the shot, if you please!

Would the Italian
and Turkish gentlemen

move in a little closer, please?

Right. Nice smile for everybody!

Austrian Archduke assassinated.

Austrian Archduke assassinated!

Austrian Archduke assassinated!

Hey, wait for me!
I want to see the Emperor, too!

Count Berchtold? Count Berchtold!

Wait for me! Count Berchtold!

Have you signed the declaration of war,
Your Majesty?

Have you signed the declaration of war,
Your Majesty?

I have this report from the Commander
of the Fourth Army Corps.

"Serbian troops
have fired on our positions

"from steamers on the Danube.

"Our troops,
in order to defend themselves,

"were forced to return the enemy fire.

"A considerable skirmish developed."

"Assassination, terrorism...

"Failure to accede
to our legitimate demands,"

et cetera, et cetera.

"Austria now at war with Serbia."

The more so
since Serbian provocateurs

are already attacking
Austrian troop positions.

Hostilities have already begun.

But that wasrt true.
The Serbians haven't attacked anyone.

Of course not.

And as the information about the
Serbian attack has not been confirmed,

I have taken it upon myself
to erase all reference to the incident

from the declaration of war.

Your Majesties,

Your Excellencies, my lords,

gentlemen.

Ready when you are.

Take your places, please,
for the ever-popular war game.

Complete with songs, battles
and a few jokes.

The whole of Europe will explode
at any moment.

Can Germany do nothing to stop
the Austrians?

Apparently not.

We are the only country
prepared to help the Serbs.

If Russia mobilises, so will Germany.

France is bound by treaty to aid Russia.

Britain must make her position clear.

I think we should all stay calm.

I think we should all stay calm.

The world will be engulfed
in the most terrible of wars,

the ultimate aim of which
is the ruin of Germany.

England, France and Russia

are conspiring together to destroy us.

Your Majesty,

we know for a fact that
you are mobilising the Russian army.

Upon my word of honour,
you are wrong.

I do not doubt it,
but we have irrefutable proof.

- You want my word of honour in writing?
- No.

Thank you.

In that case, I can only repeat to you,

at this hour not one man,
not one horse has been called up.

I must congratulate you
on persuading Italy to join us.

Our allies are dropping away from us
like rotten apples,

even before the war has started.

General mobilisation is ordered
by the St Petersburg Council of War.

France has mobilised, too,
Your Imperial Majesty.

The encirclement of Germany
is an accomplished fact.

We have run our heads into a noose.

England?

She has not yet made up her mind.

- Abandon the plan.
- It is too late.

The wheels are already in motion.

Get in touch with my cousin,
King George V.

Inform him
my troops are being prevented,

by telephone and telegram,
from passing through Belgium.

They've gone into Luxembourg, sir.

The lamps are going out
all over Europe.

We shall not see them lit again
in our lifetime.

Notify Lieutenant Feldmann.

He is to withdraw immediately
from Luxembourg.

To retreat now would be disastrous.
We must go forward.

Very well.

Advance into Luxembourg!

The sword is drawn!

I cannot sheath it again
without victory and honour!

All of you shall and will see to it

that only in honour
is it returned to the scabbard.

Let every man look into his own heart
and his own feelings

and construe for himself
the extent of his obligation for himself.

Sir.

They've invaded Belgium.

Now you'll have to go to war.

You're wanted at headquarters, sir.

Your Majesty.

General's brigade, march!

We do not see any reason,
however distant, for a conflict.

May I beg Your Excellency
to express to His Majesty

my profound gratitude for all the
marks of friendship and consideration

which I have received
in the last eight months.

And assure him of the profound respect

of His Majesty the King,

who regards His Majesty
with deep veneration

and expresses the hope
that the most regrettable state of war

between Great Britain and the monarchy
may be of no long duration.

I am extremely perturbed at the thought

that we should find ourselves at conflict
with England

since the two countries
are so near to one another

politically and morally, with
traditional sympathies and interests.

Allow me to share your hope
that the present,

most unfortunate state of war
will be of no long duration

and that normal relations
will shortly be resumed.

Mum, a band! A band!

Come on! Come on!

Come on! Come on!

Coming.

Grandpa, look! It's a band!

Mummy! Mummy! Mummy!

By the centre, quick march!

Ha'penny won'th of chips, please.

Oh, I do like to live beside the seaside

I do like to be beside the sea

- Good morning, Sir Douglas.
- Good morning, Miss Bates.

Oh, I do like to see a lot of soldiers

Oh, soldiers are what I like to see

And if they've got a sword and horse

Then I like them more, of course

Because I just love the cavalry

Oh, I do like to live beside the seaside

I do like to be beside the sea

Oh I do like to stroll
along the prom prom prom

Where the brass bands play
tiddley-om-pom-pom

Right. Come along, then.
First man, please.

Brownley, Cecil. One, please.

Thank you very much.

- Lang, Mary.
- Thank you.

Take her, love.

Smith, Florence Victoria.

Smith, Jack Henry.

Smith, Mary Emma. Thank you.

Smith, Harry Arnold.

Smith, Elizabeth May.

Smith, George Patrick Michael.

Wilson, Rose.

Smith, Frederick Percy.

Smith, Dickie.
I beg your pardon, sir. Richard.

Ex-Colour Sergeant Smith,
King's Own Yorkshire Light Infantry.

- Splendid.
- One, please. Dalby, Gwen.

Thank you.

Smith, Bertram Biddle.

Come on.

Come down off of there.

- Jack, here.
- Hello.

Come on.

Don't be daft, we're on holiday.

Harry.

Hot potatoes!

Hot potatoes!

Here, Freddie.

Potatoes!

George!

No.

George.

Grandpa, look, there's a soldier.

Mesdames et messieurs,

presenting for your
greatest entertainment,

the most fantastic spectacle
of the world today,

the arm�e fran�aise in all its glory!

Its banners, its uniforms will pass now

before your very eyes. Rideau!

- Bonjour, soldier.
- Bonjour, mon colonel.

- It's a good day for the chase.
- We await your orders.

A battle won is a battle in which
one will not confess oneself beaten.

A silly German sausage dreamt

Napoleon he'd be

Then he went and broke his promise

It was made in Germany

He shook hands with Britannia
and eternal peace he swore

Naughty boy, he talked of peace
while he prepared for war

His warships sailed upon the sea
they looked a pretty sight

But when they heard the bulldog bark
they disappeared from sight

The Kaiser said, 'Be careful
if by Jellicoe they're seen

'Then every man-of-war I've got

'Will be a submarine'

Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser

Europe took the stick
and made him sore

On his throne it hurts to sit

And when John Bull starts to hit

He will never sit upon it anymore

He'll have to go to school again
and learn his geography

He quite forgot Britannia
and the hands across the sea

Australia and Canada
the Russian and the Jap

And England looked so small
he couldn't see her on the map

For Belgium put the kibosh
on the Kaiser

Europe took the stick
and made him sore

We shall shout with victory's joy
Hold your hand out, naughty boy

You must never play
at soldiers anymore

He'll never sit upon it anymore

Belgium put the kibosh on the Kaiser

Europe took a stick and made him sore

On his throne it hurts to sit

And when John Bull starts to hit

He will never sit upon it anymore

On his throne it hurts to sit

And when John Bull starts to hit

He will never sit upon it

He will never sit upon it

He will never sit upon it...

Paper! Paper!

Brussels falls!

Brussels falls!

- Paper! Paper!
- Here, boy!

Paper! Read all about it! Brussels falls!

'The battlefield is unbelievable.

'Heaps of corpses lying everywhere,
rifles in hand.

'Thousands of dead in row after row.

'Night has fallen,
and the rain has started.

'Shells are bursting and screaming.

'Artillery fire is the worst.

'We are all utterly exhausted.

'I lie at night
listening to the wounded groaning.

'The cannonading goes on and on.

'Whenever it stops,
we hear the wounded crying out

'from all over the woods.

'Two or three men go mad every night.

'I feel a great pity

'for many of the civilian population
who have lost everything.

'But they hate us.
One of them fired at us.

'He was immediately taken out...

'Taken out and shot.

'Yesterday, we were ordered to attack
the enemy flank

'in a forest of beeches,

'but the enemy gunner saw us first
and opened fire.

'The casualties on both sides
were truly terrible.'

Are we downearted?

No!

So let your voices ring
and all together sing

Are we downearted?

No!

Not while Britannia rules the waves

Not likely

While we have Jack upon the sea

And Tommy on the land we needrt fret

It's a long, long way to Tipperary

But we're not downearted yet

Are we downearted?

No!

So let your voices ring
and all together sing

Are we downearted?

No!

Not while Britannia rules the waves

Not likely

While we have Jack upon the sea

And Tommy on the land we needrt fret

It's a long, long way to Tipperary

But we're not downearted

yet

We watched you playing cricket
and every kind of game

At football, golf and polo
you men have made your name

But now your country calls you
to play your part in war

And no matter what befalls you

We shall love you all the more

So come and join the forces
as your fathers did before

Oh, we don't want to lose you

But we think you ought to go

For your king and your country

Both need you so

We shall want you and miss you

But with all our might and main

We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you

When you come back again

Oh, we don't want to lose you

But we think you ought to go

For your king and your country

Both need you so

We shall want you and miss you

But with all our might and main

We shall cheer you, thank you, kiss you

When you come back again

The Army and the Navy need attention

The outlook isn't healthy, you'll admit

But I have a perfect dream
of a new recruiting scheme

Which I think is absolutely it

If only other girls would do as I do

I believe that we could manage it alone

For I turn all suitors from me

But the sailor and the Tommy

I've an army and a navy of my own

On Sunday I walk out with a soldier

Monday I'm taken by a tar

Tuesday I'm out with a baby Boy Scout

On Wednesday a hussar

On Thursday I gang oot wi' a Scottie

On Friday the Captain of the crew

But on Saturday, I'm willing
if you'll only take the shilling

To make a man of any one of you

I teach the tenderfoot
to face the powder

That gives an added lustre to my skin

And I show the raw recruit
how to give a chaste salute

So when I'm presenting arms
he's falling in

It makes you almost proud
to be a woman

When you make a strapping
soldier of a kid

And he says you put me through it

And I didn't want to do it
but you went and made me love you

So I did

On Sunday I walk out with a bosun

On Monday a rifleman in green

On Tuesday I choose a sub in the blues

On Wednesday a marine

On Thursday a terrier from Tooting

On Friday a midshipman or two

But on Saturday I'm willing

If you'll only take the shilling

To make a man of any one of you

Come on, lads! We need a million!

A million!

- Be a man! Enlist today!
- Enlist today!

Have you a man digging your garden
when he should be digging trenches?

He should be digging trenches!

Are there any able-bodied men
in the house?

'Cause on Saturday I'm willing
if you'll only take the shilling

To make a man of any one of you

Now, you heard
what the lovely lady said!

- We need a million of you!
- Able-bodied men.

Come along, my lucky lads!
Take the King's shilling.

We'll make a man of you!

- I'll turn you into a man.
- Give you the time of your life!

I'll give you the time of your life.

We'll give you the time of your life!

A kiss! A kiss from this lovely lady
for the first man to volunteer!

You, sir! How about you, sir?

That's right, sir! Why, step forward!

Step forward now!
That's right, my lucky lad!

Maudie!

Come on, lads! You heard what I said!
We need a million of you!

Well done, my boy. Proud of you.

Proud of you.

All right, dear. Lil!

Hold on to him, love.

That's right, boys! Up you come!

Three more! Get on stage! Get up!

You, sir!

Make your girlfriend proud of you.

Be a hero and step forward, sir.

Thank you, sir.

One young lady still left unescorted.

You, sir! You may be fat and 40, sir,
but your country needs you.

Come and join the army!

'Cause on Saturday I'm willing
if you'll only take the shilling

To make a man of any one of you

To make a man of any one of you

What are you up to?

Get back into line,
you horrible little man, you.

And all of you,

from now on,
your bloody life won't be won'th living!

And you won't bloody die
laughing, either!

Now, then...

Party,

attention!

Quite right, lad.

We've just crossed the Belgian border.
We should be arriving in Mons

in about two hours' time.

Now, see that?

The commanders
of the British expeditionary force,

Field Marshal Sir John French,
General Sir Henry Wilson.

Off to a big conference,
more than likely.

I must confess,
I'm not looking forward to this meeting.

What do you think
the French will say, sir,

when they hear
we only have four divisions

- instead of the six we promised?
- They can say what they like.

Damn it all, Wilson,

we're not under any obligation
to help the French.

We've got our own war to fight.

What?

Yes, well, I've no doubt

that they will appreciate
our point of view.

One must always remember

the class of people
these French generals come from.

They're mostly tradesmen, I believe.

I shart understand
a damn word they say anyway.

In regard to our plan, sir,
I've actually worked out

the number of gun carriages
we shall need for the first stage

and even the amount of forage
for the horses.

Would you care to see the figures?

Well, I thought,
considering the terrain...

Yes, yes. We know all about your
bicycling trips through France, Wilson.

I realise it's a bit late, sir,

but do you think
I should try to arrange for an interpreter

to help us out at the conference?

Don't be ridiculous, Wilson!

The most vital consideration
at the moment

is to maintain absolute secrecy.

Well, I never seen one of them before.

I think I've won a prize.

- So have I.
- You have, my lad.

So have you all.

Left turn! Quick march!

Right then! Three shots for tuppence!

Come on, lad. How about you?

That's right. And what about you, lad?

Come on, step up.
Three shots for tuppence.

- That's the ticket, Jack, lad.
- Right, don't fire the gun till I tell you.

Get a good grip, firm and steady.

The British riflemars the best
in the world.

No, don't jerk.

Squeeze the trigger.

That's right.

Steady now.

- Don't blink, lad.
- Don't blink, lad.

- Left eye shut.
- Left eye shut.

- Pick your targets carefully.
- Pick your targets carefully.

Don't fire till you hear my command!

Right, lads. Enemy in front, 400 yards.

Five rounds! Rapid fire!

Cease fire!

Stand down.
Smith! Stand to until relieved.

Yes, sir.

Listen to this.

"In this new experience,
you may find temptation

"both in wine and women.
You must resist both.

"Order to the troops. Signed, Kitchener,

"Secretary of bleeding State."

- Hot, isn't it, Sergeant?
- It'll be hotter still tomorrow, lad.

They've pulled out
the Suffolks and the Warwicks

and most of the rest of the corps.

We'll make your mother proud
of you yet.

What's happened to the French Army?

The French Army's
nothing to do with us, laddie.

We ain't asking any help from them,

and they ain't getting any help from us,
even though they've asked.

So, we shall be here on our own then?

Well, someone's got to look
after the shop, haven't they?

Here they come again! Fix bayonets!

Hold your fire, hold your fire. Wait for it.

Pick your target at 300 yards!
Wagstaff, you horrible little wretch!

I'll tell you when!

I wish somebody would tell me
what's happening.

Send for the boys of the girls' brigade

To set old England free

Send for me brother

Me sister or me mother

But for God's sake, don't send me

Enemy in front!

Five rounds, rapid fire!

Wounded home from France!
First boys back from Mons!

Read all about it!

Careful, now.

Read all about it!

Watch it, lads. Careful does it.

Nurse!

Come on, let's have you outside.
Outside!

- Look lively with that crutch, Spinks.
- It can't bring itself, can it?

Come on! On your feet!

- No flags, then, Sarge?
- Very comical, Burgess.

- Sergeant!
- Yes, lad?

Oh, just smell that soot, boys.

Lovely.

Right now, smarten yourselves up!
Eyes front!

Attention!

Thank you, Sergeant Dodds.
Stand the men at ease.

Stand at ease! Carry on.

Ambulances are ready, Sarge.
Officers only.

What about the other ranks?

No arrangements made for them
at the moment, sir.

We'll be all right, sir.

Transport's this way, sir,
if you care to follow me.

- Carry on, Sergeant.
- Sir.

Nearly home, George.

Hello, Smith. Sorry about your leg.

- Are you all right?
- It's better than being at Mons, eh, sir?

- Yes. Good journey home?
- Yes, thank you, sir.

Good. Chin up, then.

See you back at the front.

Now, gently. Gently. Stretcher down...

You're wasting your time
with him, darling.

It's in splints.

- That's enough of that.
- What about us, then, Sarge?

I'm awaiting further orders.

Will you sign this, please, Sergeant?

We're here because
we're here because

We're here because we're here

We're here because
we're here because

We're here because we're here

All right, all right, all right.

How about getting the train back,
then, Sarge?

You'll get back soon enough, lad.

You'll get back soon enough, lad.

- Hooray. Mafeking's been relieved.
- I'll have you, Burgess.

- What is it, Corporal?
- It's all right, Sarge.

Some lorry drivers have volunteered
to take the men

to Millbank Hospital in their dinner hour.

Right, get them fell in.
I'll have a word with the RTO.

- Right you are, Sergeant.
- Right!

You heard what the Sergeant said.
Get yourselves fell in!

Dontemann, Gray!

Fall in as markers!

The rest of you men,

dress off from the left in two lines,
across the platform!

Come on, come on!
Double round the back there!

I said dress off from the left!

Some of you don't know
your left from your right!

Carry him gently, boys.

Don't worry.
We'll soon have you back at the front.

You're like a load of pregnant women!

Blimey, if this is the way
you've been carrying on out there,

we ain't got no chance!

Hey, you! Pay attention, will you?

You're back in Blighty now!

And I want to see
you set some good examples!

A couple of days with you lot,
we'll soon whip you into some shape.

We want some spit and polish here.

We're going out in a minute,
marching off.

We're going down the street,
you'd better look lively.

Right. Get your stretcher party
moving, Corporal.

Now, get a move on!

- Stretcher party, ready.
- Right, now pull yourselves together.

Form up in two ranks on the left!
Come along!

Party, attention!

Left turn!

By the right!

Quick march!

Pack up your troubles
in your old kit bag

Come on, now! Pick 'em up!

Quit smiling!

Smile, smile, smile

While you've a lucifer to light your fag

Smile, boys, that's the style

What's the use of worrying

It never was won'thwhile

So pack up your troubles
in your old kit bag

And smile, smile, smile

Read all about it!

First wounded boys home from France!

Read all about it!

Thank you.

I'm so glad it's real champagne.

So many of even the best people
give one cider nowadays.

I'm not using my German wine,
not while the war's on.

I think that's
a splendid gesture, Stephen.

I say, isn't that Olivia?

Doesrt she look adorable?

That black dress is stunning.

So many women
simply look depressing in mourning.

Now, come along, Elenor.
Come along, come along.

It is a bit rotten, you know,

all those chaps getting killed
and all that sort of thing.

Not at all.

The men at the front
simply adore the war.

I had a letter from Julian the other day.

- Oh?
- Champagne, sir.

He said it's like a great big picnic.

Nobody grumbles at him
for getting dirty.

Oh, dear.

Not a bit like Christmas, is it?

No. It's awfully dull.

Father's business has had
the most frightful knock.

We'd all agreed
that the French and Germans

shouldn't touch
the iron ore works in Alsace-Lorraine,

until some idiot French pilot
goes and drops a bomb.

Oh, dear. That is too bad.

What happened?

He got court-martialled.

- Splendid.
- Yeah.

We're hoping to get
the contracts for tin hats.

The whole army has to have them.

How nice.

I thought of asking Nanny
to knit something,

- you know, mittens and things.
- That's a good idea.

We sent a parcel to the chauffeur's son.

Some Benger's Food,

a tinder box, compass

and some nerve tonic.

- How very nice.
- Yeah, I thought so.

Do look.

Bleeding Benger's Food
and nerve tonic again?

Well, you shouldn't
have thanked him for the last lot.

"In the actual battle zone,

"phosphorine gives
immediate relief and freedom

"from the severe exhaustion

"and steady loss of nerve force

"which occurs
when under constant shellfire."

Hey, what's up with you?
Have you got company?

Yeah, you know last time I went down
to that delousing station,

all they did was stick
a hot iron over my trousers.

I came out with more than I went in with.

You wrote another one, then?

- Yeah.
- Well, give us a read of it.

"If I should die, think only this of me

"That there's some corner
of a foreign field

"That is forever England
There shall be

"In that rich earth
a richer dust concealed

"A dust whom England bore,
shaped, made aware

"Gave, once, her flowers to love

"her ways to roam

"A body of England's
breathing English air

"Washed by the rivers
blessed by sons of home"

Hey, Mac. Will you listen to that?

Yeah. They're copping it
down Railway Wood tonight.

No. That's Hill 60.

No, not that. Listen.

What is it?

Singing.

It's those Welsh bastards
in the next trench.

No. That's Jerry.

That's an hymn.

No, it's a carol.

They sing well for a lot of bastards,
don't they?

Sing up, Jerry. I cannae hear ye.

Put a sock in it. Let's listen.

Nice, wasrt it?

Very nice, matey!

Hello, Tommy!

Hello, Tommy!

He heard you.

Hello!

Eh?

How are you?

I'm very well, thank you.

Good night!

Happy Christmas!

Well, there's another day gone.

- Hey, it's Christmas.
- Not today.

Tomorrow, you great goonie.

I forgot it was Christmas.

Tommy! Tommy!

He doesn't give up, does he?

What's the matter?

It is for you now

to sing us a good song
for Christmas, ja?

- Ja!
- Ja.

Who's going to sing, then?

Give them up one of yours, Garbett.

Aye, give them yours, Ben.

It was Christmas day in the cookhouse

The happiest day of the year

Mers hearts were full of gladness

And their bellies full of beer

When up spoke Private Shorthouse

His face as bold as brass

Saying, 'We don't want
your Christmas pudding

'You can stick it up your... '

Tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy

It was Christmas day in the harem

The eunuchs were standing round

And hundreds of beautiful women

Were stretched out on the ground

When in came the bold, bad Sultan

And gazed on his marble halls

Saying, 'What do you want
for Christmas, boys? '

And the eunuchs answered...

Tidings of comfort and joy

Comfort and joy

Oh, tidings of comfort and joy

Bravo, Tommy!

English carols is very beautiful.

Hey, Tommy.

Hey, are you still there?

- Aye!
- Yeah!

You drink with us, ja?

- Ja!
- Ja!

You like some good
deutschen Schnaps?

- That's whisky.
- Yes!

Sling it over!

Tomorrow we meet you in the middle!

Aye, the middle of Piccadilly.

It's funny to hear them speak in English.

Yeah, well, they learned it
all at school, didn't they?

See you in the penalty area!

Happy Christmas!

- Happy Christmas.
- Aye, happy Christmas.

Good night, Jerry.

Ta.

Jim?

Cocoa.

Ooch, ta.

Hey, Jack.

Hey!

Hello, Tommy.

About bloody time, too.

That's good stuff, Jerry.

Aye. Thank you very much.

Fritz.

How are you, Fritz?

Merry Christmas.

Merry Christmas.

How's the Kaiser?

Freuter.

How do you do? Hawkins.

Do you know when the war will end?

After our spring offensive,
I should think.

- How are your trenches?
- Terrible.

Not fit for pigs.

When it rains,
we're up to our knees in mud and water.

Arert you sick of the war?

Before the war, I was staying in Suffolk,

and I left there a three-and-one-half
horsepower motorcycle.

And also a girl.

Hey, do you hear that?

This chap's got a girlfriend in Suffolk.

You can send her a message,

telling her that I am all right over here.

I mean, I will write name
and address for you.

I suppose it's all right.

Cigarette?

Are they Virginian?

Aye. Straight cut.

Ah, nein, danke. I only smoke Turkish.

Have a cigar.

Thank you.

We will not ever shoot again,

unless you start.

Do you hear that?

That will suit us, man, I can tell you.

Here. We'll drink to that.

That is Scottish schnapps.

This is your guns that are shooting?

No. It's the bastard English, not us.

They will not shoot at us
while you are here.

Don't believe that, man.

It's us they're shooting at.

Oh, well...

Thanks very much, mate,

and give my love to the Kaiser.

- Morning, sir.
- Right. Carry on.

Yes, sir.

Morning, sir.

Well done.

Fraternisation, you call it?

It could be interpreted as treason.

We could have them all shot.

Stop the leaves of all units
in any sector where it's happened.

And a happy New Year to you, too.

Come on. Come on, quickly.

Brother Bertie went away

To do his bit the other day

With a smile on his lips

And his lieutenant pips

Upon his shoulder bright and gay

As the train moved out he said

Remember me to all the birds.

Then he wagged his paw
and went away to war

Shouting out these pathetic words

Goodbye, goodbye

Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye

Though it's hard to part, I know

I'll be tickled to death to go

Don't cry, don't sigh

There's a silver lining in the sky

Bonsoir, old thing

Cheerio, chin-chin

Nap-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye

Brother Bertie went away

To do his bit the other day

With a smile on his lips

And his lieutenant pips

Upon his shoulder bright and gay

As the train moved out he said

Remember me to all the birds

Then he wagged his paw
and went away to war

Shouting out these pathetic words

Goodbye

Goodbye

Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye

Though it's hard to part, I know

I'll be tickled to death to go

Don't cry, don't sigh

There's a silver lining in the sky

Bonsoir, old thing

Cheerio, chin-chin

Nap-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye

Goodbye

Goodbye

Wipe the tear, baby dear, from your eye

Though it's hard to part, I know

I'll be tickled to death to go

Don't cry, don't sigh

There's a silver lining in the sky

Bonsoir, old thing

Cheerio, chin-chin

Nap-poo, toodle-oo, goodbye

Oh, oh, oh, it's a lovely war

Who wouldn't be a soldier, eh?

Oh, it's a shame to take the pay

As soon as reveille is gone

We feel just as heavy as lead

But we never get up till the sergeant

Brings our breakfast up to bed

Oh, oh, oh, it's a lovely war

Oh, what do we want
with eggs and ham

When we've got plum and apple jam?

Form fours, right turn

How shall we spend
the money we earn?

Oh, oh, oh, it's a lovely war

Up to your waist in water

Up to your eyes in slush

Using the kind of language

That makes the sergeant blush

Who wouldn't join the army?

That's what we all inquire

Don't we pity the poor civilian

Sitting beside the fire?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

It's a lovely war

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

It's a lovely war

Who wouldn't be a soldier, eh?

Oh, it's a shame to take the pay

As soon as reveille is gone

We feel just as heavy as lead

But we never get up till the sergeant

Brings our breakfast up to bed

Oh, oh

It's a lovely war

What do we want with eggs and ham

When we've got plum and apple jam?

Form fours

Right turn

How shall we spend
the money we earn?

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

It's a lovely

Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh

It's a lovely

Oh, oh, oh, it's a lovely war

Happy New Year!

Smithey!

Smithey!

Hello, Mavis.

Morning, Sir John.

Oh, Smith. Been wounded, I see.

Yes. Got a blighty one at Mons, sir.

Yes, yes. Well, the wife
must be glad to have you home.

I'm not married yet, sir.

Oh, no, no. Of course not. It was your...

Brother, sir.

Jack.

Married Cook's daughter, sir.

Yes. That's right. That's right.

They've got a dear little boy,
haven't they?

Yeah. A little girl actually, sir. Emma.

Rest of the family all right?

Well, touch wood, sir.

Got five at the front now, sir.

Well done. Well done.

Nothing like a bit of shooting, eh?

No, sir.

Well, I must be off.

August the 12th tomorrow.

Grouse won't wait.
Keep up the good work.

- Yes, sir.
- All right, then.

- Everything all right up there, Mavis?
- I'm attending to it, sir.

Well, look, come
and see me in a month or so.

We might do something
about getting your old job back.

- What do you say to that?
- Well, if I can't get back to the front, sir,

I think I'd sooner have a job
in munitions,

if it's all the same to you, sir.

As you wish...

Jack.

Drive on, Mavis.

That's better.

Right, lads. You can
take your masks off now.

Masks off! Stand down!

Not you, Leary.

- Sentry.
- Yes, Sarge.

Bombed last night

And bombed the night before

Gonna be bombed tonight

If we never get bombed anymore

When we're bombed

We're scared as we can be

God strafe the bombing men

From higher Germany

They're over us

They're over us

One shell hole

For just the four of us

Thank your lucky stars

There are no more of us

'Cause one of us

Could fill it all alone

Gassed last night

And gassed the night before

Going to get gassed tonight

If we never get gassed anymore

When we're gassed

We're sick as we can be

'Cause phosgene and mustard gas

Is much too much for me

They're warning us

They're warning us

One respirator for the four of us

Thank your lucky stars

That three of us can run

So one of us can use it all alone

Hey, Sarge.

Right, lads, on your feet! Attention!

It's me cousin Bertie,
the only officer in the family.

Have you got
the trench consolidated, Sergeant?

All present and correct, sir.

Except we lost Mr Laver, sir.

That's bad.

Major Mallory wants to
have a word with the men.

You can stand the men
at ease, Sergeant.

Stand at ease!

Shell attack!

On your feet, lads.

Come on! Jump to it!

You can let the men smoke
if they want to.

Right, sir.

The major says you can smoke,

but don't let me catch you.

Now, you men,

I've just come
from having a powwow with the Colonel.

We think you've done
some damn fine work.

We congratulate you.

I know you've had it pretty hard
the last few days,

bombs, shells and snipers.

We haven't escaped scot-free
back at staff either, I can tell you.

Anyway, we're all here...

Well, not all of us of course,

and that gas of ours was rather nasty,

damn wind changing.

Yes, indeed, sir.

But these mishaps do happen in war,

and gas can be a war-winning weapon.

Anyway, so long as
we can all keep smiling,

you're white men all.

Sector all tidy now, Smith?

We've buried most
of the 2nd Yorks and Lancs, sir.

Still a few DLI's
and the men from our own company left.

I see.

Well, look, let the lads
drum up some cha.

- Look out!
- Look out, sir!

Good God.

Stretcher bearers!

Stretcher bearers! Stretcher bearers!

You have
no stretcher bearers over there?

No. I'm afraid
they went in the last attack, sir.

I'm waiting for reliefs from HQ.

Oh, well, they're stout chaps.

Yes. You better
let the men keep under cover.

Thank you, sir.

Take cover!

Damn place still reeks
of decomposing bodies.

I'm afraid it's unavoidable, sir.

The trench was mainly full of Jerries.

Yes, of course.

You were more or less sharing
the same frontline

- for a couple of days, werert you?
- Yes, sir.

Oh, well.

- Carry on, Smith.
- Thank you, sir.

Ye gods. What's that?

It's a Jerry, sir.

What?

It's a leg, sir.

Well, get rid of it, man.

You can't have an obstruction
sticking out of the parapet like that.

Yes, sir.

- Sergeant Smith.
- Sir.

Remove the offending limb.

We can't do that, sir.
It's holding up the parapet.

Besides, we've just
consolidated the position.

Yes, well, you heard what the Major
said. Just get a shovel and hack it off.

Right, Bertie, sir.

Where the bloody hell am I
going to hang me equipment now?

Right, lads! Brew up!

Get yourselves some cha!

Smithey.

Johnny's regiment's
doing rather well for themselves.

Champagne, dear?

Let me give you a glass of wine.

There you are.

Field Marshal Sir John French,

Commander in Chief
of the British Expeditionary Force.

Wasrt that Sir Douglas Haig,
the new man?

Damned upstart.

That other blighter
Robertsors here, too.

Intrigue upon intrigue.

General Sir William Robertson,

Chief of the Imperial General Staff!

Willy, I'm so thrilled

to hear about your new appointment.

One takes these things
as they come, you know.

Sir Henry Wilsors green with envy.

Quite.

Talk of the devil.

I've nothing
against Robertson personally,

but to make him CIGS
is absolute disaster.

I'm sure Haig doesn't think so.

Well, of course he doesn't.
Now Haig can do exactly as he likes.

I can see that perfectly well.

General Sir Douglas Haig,

Commander of the British First Army,

and Lady Haig.

Canter in the row before breaffast

- tomorrow morning, Dorothy?
- Lovely.

Don't forget
the fitting for your new boots, Douglas.

Yes.

By the way,

we're lunching at Number 10,

without Sir John French.

Congratulations, my dear.

It's wise to remember

Haig has powerful friends.

What on earth do they see in him?

Shoots pheasant
with the Prince of Wales.

Lady Dorothy was
one of Queen Alexandra's

- maids of honour.
- Was she?

So now, of course,
he has the ear of the King.

Haig?

Sir Douglas Haig. That name's familiar.

Whisky.

Trade?

Afraid so.

Remember Geoffrey?
He was Ralph's ADC in Delhi.

Of course.

Excuse me, sir.
May I ask Lady Haig to dance?

I should be delighted.

Could we have
a few words together, Douglas?

The trouble is that people back here

just don't realise there's a war on.

That's why we need conscription.

Well, I've just volunteered.

Oh, wonderful. Congratulations.

What for?

The VAD.

The uniform is so becoming.

I wish there were more people like you.

I will tell you in confidence, my dear.

His Majesty very much hopes

that my husband
will succeed Sir John French.

My God.

Douglas has always felt

that French
was quite unsuitable to the position.

What do you think
of French's little lady friend?

Rank outsider.

Is she?

He's always been

very generous with the ladies.

I heard he once borrowed
rather a lot of money from you.

He was commander
of my cavalry brigade at the time.

Damn bad form.

Appalling.

Haig.

Sir John.

Do you know Mrs...

Comrades

Comrades

Ever since they were boys

Sharing each other's sorrows

Sharing each other's joys

The right man in the right job,
if I may say so, sir.

You may. You may. Thank you, my man.

To friends in sunshine and shadow.

- What? What?
- Hear, hear.

Well, Douglas,

how did you leave the men at the front?

Oh, in fine heart, sir.

Just spoiling for a fight.

Makes one feel very proud.

Tell me, Douglas,

what do you think
of this fellow, Kitchener?

Well, sir...

Yes, yes.

A perfectly howling rotter.
You're far too nice to say so.

He's only a damned politician,

and he behaves
like some damned generalissimo.

You know he turned up
in Paris in his uniform?

My God.

The fellow's got no right
to a uniform at all.

I mean, he's Secretary of State for War.

What happened?

Well, it raised
some pretty ticklish points of protocol.

We'll have to do something about him.

I mean, he's more dangerous

than the whole of the damned
German General Staff.

What?

Johnny.

Mrs...

Johnny.

Excuse me. They're playing my tune.

How did Haig get where he is?

Didrt you tell me he failed the
staff college-entrance examinations?

- Duke of Cambridge.
- What?

Friend of the family.

Oh, yes, of course.

On her side.

They waived the formalities
and let him in.

He's quite bright, though.

Thorough sort of chap.

Ambitious, of course,

but means well.

You off, Henry?

- Afraid so, Douglas.
- So soon?

We hope to see you
next weekend at Isabel's.

Lovely.

Do come along, dear,
or we shall never get home.

- Good night, Douglas.
- Good night, Henry.

I'm quite sure we've met before,
but I can't remember where.

- Good night, sir.
- Good night, Julius.

Frankly, I'm quite
looking forward to the new year.

Hurs on his last legs.

- It should all be over in a few months.
- Yes.

By the way, Douglas,

pity about that letter to The Times.

After all, you did capture Loos, hmm?

Yes. I could have done
with some more support.

Well, I mean,
you can always count on mine.

- Good night, my dear.
- Good night.

- Good night, Douglas.
- Good night, Johnny.

Sir John French's carriage!
Sir John French's carriage!

That mars a terrible intriguer.

You've been loyal long enough,
my dear.

Well...

Number 10 tomorrow, Dorothy.

And a Field Marshal's job for you.

Sir Douglas Haig's carriage!
Sir Douglas Haig's carriage!

Hush.

Hush.

Here comes a whizzbang.

Hush

Here comes a whizzbang

Now, you soldier men

Get down those stairs

Down in your dugouts

And say your prayers

Hush

Here comes a whizzbang

And it's making straight for you

Look out!

And you'll see all the wonders

Of no-man's-land

If a whizzbang

Hits you

Hush

- Here comes a whizzbang
- Here comes a whizzbang

Hush

- Here comes a whizzbang
- Here comes a whizzbang

Now, you soldier men

Get down those stairs

Down in your dugouts

And say your prayers

Hush

- Here comes a whizzbang
- Here comes a whizzbang

And it's making straight for you

And you'll see all the wonders

Of no-mars-land

If a whizzbang

Hits you

Come on now. Do us a Charlie Chaplin.

Come on. Let's see you do it.

And you'll see all the wonders

Of no-mars-land

If a whizzbang hits you

Gentlemen.

Germany has shot her bolt.

The prospects for 1916 are excellent.

Permission to speak, sir.

Of course.

If we continue in this way,

the line of trenches will stretch

from Switzerland to the sea.

Neither we nor the Germans
will be able to break through.

The war will end in complete stalemate.

Nonsense.

We need only one more big offensive
to break through and win.

My troops are of fine quality

and especially trained
for this type of war.

This is not war, sir. It is slaughter.

God is with us.

It is for King and Empire.

We are sacrificing lives

at the rate of
5,000 to sometimes 50,000 a day.

Intensive bombardment,

superior morale.

Just one more battle.

Sir, tell us what to do,
and by God, we'll do it.

We're going to walk through
the enemy lines.

Try this one, Dickie.

Cor, this is a good one, Grandpa.

Come on, Dickie, love.
They're all the same.

Come on.

Let me look at this one, please.

There's a long, long trail a-winding

Into the land of my dream

Where the nightingales are singing

And a white moon beams

There's a long, long night of waiting

Until my dreams all come true

Till the day when I'll be going...

- Name?
- Connor.

- Chellis.
- Holland.

- Littman.
- Horace.

Complete victory.

The destruction of German militarism.

Victory march on Berlin.

Slow, deliberate fire is being maintained
on the enemy positions.

At this moment,

my men are advancing
across no-mars-land

in full pack,

dressing from left to right.

The men are forbidden,
under pain of court-martial,

to take cover
in any shell hole or dugout.

Their magnificent morale

will cause the enemy
to flee in confusion.

The attack will be driven home
with the bayonet.

I feel that every step I take

is guided by the divine will.

This is most unsatisfactory.

Where are the Sherwood Foresters?

This is the latest position.

- Whisky, sir?
- Thank you.

Where are the East Lancs on the right?

Out in no-mars-land.

They're sluggish
from too much sitting in the trenches.

Most of them, sir, will never rise again.

We must break through.

Regardless of loss, sir?

The loss of, say, another 300,000 men

may lead to really great results...

We lost 30,000 men
before lunchtime yesterday, sir.

...and will not impede
our ability to continue the offensive.

In any case, we have to calculate
on another great offensive next year.

If the slackers on the home front
see it our way, sir.

Quite.

We are rather short of men, sir.

Oh? What's left?

The new chappies
from Ireland have just arrived.

I see.

They are a wild, untrained lot.

Still, they'll be raring
to have a crack at the Boche.

They've only just got off the train.
Most haven't eaten for 48 hours, sir.

They're moving against
a weakened and demoralised enemy.

What they lack in training,
they'll make up for in gallantry.

Capture the German line
without further delay.

I think we made it.

Where are we, Sarge?

I reckon we've broken into a bit of a lull.

Yeah.

Nice, ain't it?

Aye. And peaceful.

Sniper.

I'd keep under cover if I were you.

Trouble is we've been fighting too well.

We've arrived ahead of ourselves.

Yeah.

Yeah.

What's that, Sarge?

What's what?

It's somebody shouting.

Hey, look.

There's some fellow
in that shell hole over there.

- Where?
- There! Do you see him?

There.

Back!

Come back!

Is it one of our boys?

Can't tell from here. Too far away.

He must have got it in the last attack.

Does he want any help then?

No. He's telling us
to get the hell back out of here.

Jesus, that's easier said than done.

You can say that again.

Keep down, Seamus.

- Did you see that one?
- It came from our boys!

- Hey, don't shoot!
- Don't shoot!

Now look what you've done.

You bloody idiots.

- Seamus.
- Sarge.

You're the fastest on your pins.

Nip back to HQ.

Tell the artillery
to save their shells for the Jerry,

and tell them
to raise their bloody sights a bit.

- Back through all that lot?
- Aye, sure.

Why, it's hardly nothing at all.

- Bring us back a couple of wee girls.
- Good luck, lad!

Good luck, Seamus!

Well, somebody's got to go.

Come on. Who's next?

- I don't mind, Sarge.
- Right.

Tell them there's hundreds of us
stranded up here in this ridge.

- And, Driscoll...
- Eh?

Watch it.

I'll do that.

Good luck, buddy.

If he's been shot now, I'll kill him.

He has, Sarge.

Well, I think it's best if we all
stick together in the one spot.

They've started shelling
for the next attack, Sarge!

Sit tight, lads.

We're out of the war now, boys.

Good morning, Mrs Howard.

Been at church today?

Well, I think we'll start.

I don't think
we're going to need the umbrellas.

Now, before I talk to you,

I should like to read you a letter

from George Bernard Shaw
to my mother.

Aye, aye, aye.

- Does your father know?
- He says,

"The men of our country

"are being sacrificed
by the blunders of boobies,

"the cupidity of capitalists,

"the ambition of conquerors,

"the lusts and lies and rancours

"of blood thirsts who love the war

"because it opens their prison doors

"and sets them on the throne
of power and popularity."

Now give us a song!

For the second time,
peace is being offered

to the sorely tired people
of the civilised world!

I don't like the title.

At the close of 1915,

President Wilson offered
an immediate armistice

to be followed by a peace conference.

Don't think much of the words, neither.

And in April of this year,

Germany herself proposed peace.

How do you know?
Got friends over there?

The exact terms of Germany's offer
have never been made known to us,

and I should like to ask Lloyd George
what his war aims are.

And I should like to ask you
what your old man has for dinner.

The politicians chatter like imbeciles
while civilisation bleeds to death.

Now you're talking like a traitor.

Pacifists is traitors.

I ask this gentleman...

Don't ask me. I don't know nothing.
I'm stupid.

...to consider the plight of
the civilised world after another year.

You do not know what you do.

And the statesmen
wash their hands of the whole affair.

Why don't you wash your face?

Old Douglas Haig's got them on the run!
He's got them going!

Who tells you this?

The newspapers.

Who refuse to publish
the pacifist letters,

who distort the facts
about our so-called victories.

We are killing off, slowly but surely,

the best in the male population!

Here, don't you address
them words to me!

The sons of Europe are being crucified
on the barbed wire

because you misguided masses
are crying out for it!

- Her boy's at the front!
- My boy's at the front!

War cannot be won!

No one can win a war.

Is it your wish this war will go on and on

until Germany is beaten
into the ground?

Rule, Britannia
Britannia rules the waves

Britons, never, never, never
shall be slaves

Rule, Britannia
Britannia rules the waves

Britons, never, never, never
shall be slaves

I don't want to go to war

I'd rather stay at home

Around the streets to roam

And live on the earnings of a lady typist

I don't want a bayonet in me belly

I don't want me bollocks shot away

I'd rather stay in England

In merry, merry England

And fornicate me bleeding life away

Now, then, my lads, move along there.

No need to make
a nuisance of yourselves.

Well, where can we go, eh?

My sister-in-law Flo's place.

Your sister-in-law Flo
will talk about food rationing.

Then we go round to the boozer,

and old Charlie
will talk about the zeppelins.

Then we go down the street,
and I'll say...

I'll say, "What shall we do?"

And you say,

"Let's go to
my sister-in-law Flo's place."

And we get down there,

and she'll tell us
all about the food rationing.

Then we go round
to the boozer for a pint,

and old Charlie...

Oh, I wish I was back
with the bleeding battalion!

Parlez-vous

The Sergeant-Major's having a time

Parlez-vous

The Sergeant-Major's having a time

Swinging the lead behind the line

Inky-pinky parlez-vous

It's a hell of a song that we've just sung

Parlez-vous

It's a hell of a song that we've just sung

Parlez-vous

It's a hell of a song that we've just sung

And the fellow that wrote it
ought to be hung

Inky-pinky parlez-vous

Oh, the moon shine bright
on Charlie Chaplin

His boots are cracking

For want of blacking

And his old baggy trousers
want mending

Before they send him to the Dardanelles

Oh, the moon shines bright
on Charlie Chaplin

His boots are cracking

For want of blacking

And his old baggy trousers
they want mending

Before they send him to the Dardanelles

Parade!

Parade!

Halt!

Left turn!

Put down arms!

Stand at ease!

Stand easy!

Hey, Corp!

You reinforcements?

Yeah. We're on our way up to Wipers.

Wouldrt go up there if I were you.

They've got a shortage.

What of? Ammunition?

No. Coffins.

Parade, attention!

One staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back

And another staff officer jumped
right over that other staff officer's back

A third staff officer jumped right over
two other staff officers' backs

And a fourth staff officer jumped right
over all the other staff officers' backs

One staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back

And another staff officer jumped right
over that other staff officer's back

A third staff officer jumped right over
two other staff officers' backs

And a fourth staff officer jumped right
over the other staff officers' backs

They were only playing leapfrog

They were only playing leapfrog

They were only playing leapfrog

When one staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back

They were only playing leapfrog

They were only playing leapfrog

They were only playing leapfrog

When one staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back

When one staff officer jumped right over
another staff officer's back

Hello. GOC-in-C here.

Clear the line, please.

Has the 8th Division
moved up on the right?

I see. Severe casualties.

No. You must reserve the artillery.
We're using too many shells.

Well, where is the 8th Division?

What?

I must have the 8th Division
forward on the right.

Thank you.

"70% casualties in the last attack.

"Then there is some corner of
a foreign field that is forever England."

Forward Joe Soap's army

Marching without fear

With our old commander

Safely in the rear

He boasts and skites
from morn till night

And thinks he's very brave

But the men who really did the job

Are dead and in their grave

Forward Joe Soap's army

Marching without fear

With our old commander

Safely in the rear

Amen

Take up your places! Straight through!

Dearly beloved brethren.

I'm sure you will be glad to hear
the news from the home front.

The Archbishop of Canterbury
has made it known

that it is no sin
to labour for war on the Sabbath.

And I'm sure
you would also like to know

that the Chief Rabbi has absolved
your Jewish brethren

from abstaining
from pork in the trenches.

Likewise, his holiness
the Pope has ruled

that the eating of flesh on Friday

is no longer a mortal sin.

- It's high time we had an Irish pope.
- You're right.

And in faraway Tibet,

the Dalai Lama has placed his prayers

at the disposal of the allies.

Now, brethren,

tomorrow being Good Friday,

we hope God will look kindly
on our attack.

We will now sing from
Hymns Ancient and Modern.

Number 358.

The Church's one foundation

We are the ragtime infantry

We cannot fight

We cannot shoot

What bleeding use are we?

And when we get to Berlin

To be his holy bride

And from his lot

What a bloody rotten lot

Are the ragtime infantry

Amen

Let us pray.

O God, show thy face to us

as thou didst with thy angel at Mons.

The choir will now sing
What a Friend We Have in Jesus,

as we offer a silent prayer
for success in tomorrow's onslaught.

- Amen.
- Amen.

When this lousy war is over

What a friend we have in Jesus

No more soldiering for me

All our sins and griefs to bear

When I get my ciwy clothes on

What a privilege to carry

Oh, how happy I shall be

Everything to God in prayer

No more church parades on a Sunday

Oh, what peace we often forfeit

No more putting in for leave

Oh, what needless pain we bear

I shall kiss the Sergeant Major

All because we do not carry

- How I'll miss him
- All to God

- In prayer
- How he'll grieve

Amen

Well, God,

the prospects for a successful attack
are now ideal.

I place myself in your hands.

Land of our birth.

Land of our birth.

The fields are full of tents, O Lord,

all empty as yet

except for unmade
and naked iron bedsteads.

Every ward has been cleared
to make way for the wounded

that will be arriving
when the big push comes.

The doctors say
there will be enormous numbers

of dead and wounded, God.

I ask thee for victory, Lord,

before the Americans arrive.

That we may bring, if need arise,

no maimed or won'thless sacrifice.

O Lord,

now lettest thou thy servant
depart in peace.

Parade, by squads!

Dismissed!

F squad, attention!

My troop, attention!

Whiter than the whitewash on the wall

Whiter than the whitewash on the wall

Oh, wash me in the water
that you wash your dirty daughter in

And I shall be whiter
than the whitewash on the wall

On the wall, on the wall

Oh, wash me in the water
that you wash your dirty daughter in

And I shall be whiter
than the whitewash on the wall

Quick march! Left, right, left, right!

Oh, wash me in the water
that you wash your dirty daughter in

And I shall be whiter
than the whitewash on the wall

On the wall, on the wall

On the wall, on the wall

O Lord, I beg you.

Do not let this dreadful war

cause all the suffering
that we have prepared for.

I know you will answer my prayer.

I want to go home

I want to go home

I don't want to go
in the trenches no more

Where whizzbangs and shrapnel

They whistle and roar

Take me over the sea

Where the alleyman can't get at me

Oh my, I don't want to die

I want to go home

Take me over the sea

Where the alleyman can't get at me

Oh my, I don't want to die

I want to go home

I thank you, God.

The attack is a great success.

Fighting has been severe,

but that was to be expected.

There has been some delay
along the Menin Road,

but the ground is thick with enemy dead.

First reports from
the clearing stations state

that our casualties
are only some 60,000,

mostly slight.

The wounded are very cheery indeed.

Well, that's the lot, then.

Right. Lead them off, Corporal Smith!

Right. Let's get back to the truck, lads.

Lead on this file.

Forward!

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

And the little devils
how they sing-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

Oh death
where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling

Oh grave, thy victory?

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

And the little devils
how they sing-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

Oh death
where is thy sting-a-ling-a-ling

Oh grave, thy victory?

The bells of hell go ting-a-ling-a-ling

For you but not for me

Thank you, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Sir, I've been wondering...

Or rather, the staff
and I have been wondering,

perhaps this policy of attrition
might be a mistake.

After all, it's wearing us down
more than it is them.

Couldrt we increase our efforts
on other fronts?

Nonsense. The Western Front
is the only real front.

We must grind them down.

You see,
our population is greater than theirs,

and their losses are greater than ours.

I don't quite follow that, sir.

In the end,

they will have 5,000 men left
and we shall have 10,000,

and we shall have won.

In any case,

I intend to launch
one more full-scale offensive.

And we shall break through and win.

Rum ration.

Old soldiers never die

The young ones wish they would

Those poor bastards still moaning
out in no-mars-land.

Somebody ought
to do something about it.

It's terrible, terrible.

Sounds like a bleeding cattle market.

Right. Wakey-wakey. On your feet.

The order's come through for the attack.

We kick off at 5:00 ack-emma.

Right! Move!

That's a bloody fine time, isn't it?

If the sergeant steals your rum
Never mind

If the sergeant steals your rum
Never mind

Though he's just a bloody sod

Let him take the bleeding lot

If the sergeant steals your rum
Never mind

Never mind

If old Jerry shells the trench
Never mind

If old Jerry shells the trench
Never mind

Though the blasted sandbags fly

You have only once to die

If old Jerry shells the trench
Never mind

Never mind

Right. Come on, lads. Come on.

If you get stuck on the wire

- Never mind
- Never mind

If you get stuck on the wire

- Never mind
- Never mind

Though the light's as broad as day

When you die they stop your pay

If you get stuck on the wire

Never mind

Oh, never mind

Far far from Wipers, I long to be

Where German snipers can't get at me

Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet

Waiting for whizzbangs
to send me to sleep

Sir! 5:00 ack-emma, sir.

- Press the attack immediately.
- Sir.

If you want the old battalion

We know where they are

We know where they are

We know where they are

If you want the old battalion

We know where they are

They're hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them, we've seen them

Hanging on the old barbed wire

We've seen them
Hanging on the old barbed wire

Right! Over the top, boys!

Come on, now, fast as you can!
Come on, lads.

'Our counteroffensive
commenced this morning.

'Satisfactory progress.

'Yesterday, the King
inspected the troops.

'Trouble was

'that the men waved
their hats instead of flags

'as His Majesty rode by.

'The King did clutch
the reins too firmly... '

Correction.

The King did clutch
the reins rather firmly,

no reflection on
His Majesty's horsemanship.

The grass was very slippery,
and the mare moved backwards.

I'd exercised her every day for a year.

So unfortunate it had to be my horse
that threw the King.

They've all gone.
They've all been killed.

No, they haven't.
They're just under cover.

- Where are you going?
- Forward.

It's no use staying here.
You've got to keep moving forward.

Look, as soon as the next
shell bursts in front of us,

- you follow me into the hole. Right?
- Right.

Why don't our gunners do something
about that bleeding machine gun?

They are doing something.

They just haven't hit him yet.

Let's have a try with one of these.

I'd like to catch that bleeder
who threw that bleeding smoke bomb.

I can't see a bleeding thing.

Far far from Wipers, I long to be

Where German snipers can't get at me

This is the life, eh, Sarge?

Damp is my dugout, cold are my feet

Waiting for whizzbangs
to send me to sleep

I must have drawn you in a sweep.

- I've had enough of this.
- Yeah, me and all.

Let's get that bleeding machine gun.

- They're just as scared as we are.
- All right.

Where do you reckon you're going?

Just to have a crack at that gun, Sarge.

All right. Careful, now.

- I'll give you covering fire.
- Right.

- See you after the war, Sarge.
- Yeah, at your sister-in-law Flo's place.

- About 8:00.
- Make it half-past.

- What?
- I might be a bit late!

Right.

Right.

You can close the battle
of the Somme now.

The final British losses
are 607,784 officers and men.

- And the French losses, sir?
- They are still to come.

And ground gained, nil.

'Thank you for the copy of The Times.

'I'm glad that in spite of all,
it is still a victory.

'lt does not seem so here.

'lt is beyond belief, the butchery.

'The men look so appalling
when they are brought in,

'and so many die.'

They were summoned from the hillside

They were called in from the glen

And the country found them ready

At the stirring call for men

Let no tears add to their hardship

As the soldiers pass along

And although your heart is breaking

Make it sing this cheery song

Keep the home fires burning

While your hearts are yearning

Though the lads are far away

They dream of home

There's a silver lining

Through the dark clouds shining

Turn the dark cloud inside out

Till the boys come home

Come along, Harry, lad.

Have to move you onto the ground now.

Need the stretcher, see?

There's a casualty list up.

I wonder who's on it.

Excuse me, love.

Hey, there's another Arkwright again.

Oh, I never did.

Hey, Milly, another Arkwright gone.

Yeah. I know her.

- That's three she's lost.
- No, four.

No, three.

They're bringing them back
at night now.

What is it?

It's just another list, Flo.

- Ethel's boy's just been let out of prison.
- Why?

- There's another big push coming.
- Oh, never.

Ask Flo. She's in munitions.
They're always first to know.

Is that true, then?

It's true. It's starting again.

Don't worry, love,
your Jack will be all right.

- Can't go on much longer now, can it?
- Of course not.

Must be rotten for you
working down there.

- It's not bad.
- I wouldn't like it, all those men.

Our old foremars bad enough.

One girl earned
�3 last week with overtime.

- Go on.
- It's true.

They're paying a fortune.

They need to,
after that explosion last week.

Never found nothing of them, did they?

We're going on overtime next week.

What you making?

Big new order's coming.

It's funny stuff, they say it's for shrouds.

- Oh, it makes you shiver.
- Milly.

What's that?

It's the Yankees!

Come on.

Over there

Over there.

- Our infantry...
- Have the reserves been...

The Yanks are coming
The Yanks are coming

The drums rum-tumming everywhere

So prepare, say a prayer

Send the word, send the word
to beware

We'll be over, we're coming over

And we won't come back
We'll be buried over there

Hello, Ben.

- Who's that, then?
- Smithey. Jack Smith.

Hello, Jack.

- One of Jerry's, eh?
- Yeah.

Must have thought they were staying.

- How are you, mate? All right?
- Fine.

Good to see you.

- What's it like outside?
- They're still strafing.

I'm bloody sick of it.

Do you know where we are?

Mons.

First big battle of the war.

We're right back where we started.

Look at that.
Wouldrt catch me eating it.

My brother Harry, he was at Mons.

They're bloody starving in Germany,
you know?

We both were.

I heard the Germans is going Bolshevik.

That's when he got wounded. First time.

They say the German Navy's mutinied.

There's going to be a revolution.
They're just like the Russians.

Right, on your feet. Outside, you lot!

Then he came back again.

Corporal Tanner,
he's read this bloke Lenin.

He reckons it's all going to be different.

Well, it's got to be, isn't it?

It stands to reason.

They say the war will end anytime now.

Get your mask on,
or you won't live to see it.

Halt!

Right. Come on.

Who the hell are you, then,
the unknown soldier?

No, sir, I'm 294, Smith, J.

You'll have to move some. It's 10:58.

You're the last one.

Come on, lad, just follow the tape.

Granny.

Granny, what did Daddy do in the war?

And when they ask us

How dangerous it was

Oh, we'll never tell them

No, we'll never tell them

We spent our pay in some caf�

And fought wild women night and day

'Twas the cushiest job we ever had

And when they ask us

And they're certainly going to ask us

The reason why we didn't win

The Croix de Guerre

Oh, we'll never tell them

No, we'll never tell them

There was a front

But damned if we knew where

And they're certainly going to ask us

The reason why we didn't win

The Croix de Guerre

Oh, we'll never tell them

No, we'll never tell them

There was a front

But damned if we knew where