All language subtitles for Nine Men (Watt, Harry 1943)_WEBRip.720p.x264.AAC_EN

Come on, quickly, stop talking.

Right, properly at ease.

Turn, advance.

March to attention.

Right wheel.

Into line. Left turn!

Order…

arms!

I see, just because you've done
a little bit of field training

you're trying to kid me
you've forgotten your arms drill.

All right, slope…

arms!

Keep your head up, Chappel.

Don't wrap that rifle
round your neck, Morgan.

Carry the butt to the right!

Taylor,
where the hell do you think you are,

in the front line of the chorus?
Put your hat on straight.

Keep your head
and eyes to the front, Maxwell.

Platoon, dismiss!

As you were!

Horton, it may look pretty,
but when I want you to wave your arm about

like a fairy saying "Goodbye"
to his mate, I'll tell you!

Platoon, dismiss!

To my mind there are places
in the second movement of the Andante

where the purity of the melodic line

is impaired by a rather too demonstrative
rendering of the clarinets.

Turn it in, you twerp.

But the tone of the wood wind
is still lyrical throughout…

You moaning cow.
I'm fed up. I'm browned off.

All I can get on the wireless
is twittering twerps and moaning cows,

and all I get out of this mob
is lousy training.

Field training, oh, blimey, field training!

Fetch me a cup of tea.

Hello, Jack.

- Hello, Tom.
- How's it going?

Oh, not so bad.

What's this lot like?

Much the same, you know.

Raw as you make them. Not a bad mob.

Mixed bunch.

Considering the jobs they've come from,
they're doing damn well.

You know, it always surprises me
how these youngsters take to soldiering.

- How's the garden?
- Oh, fine.

My last 48 hours
I got it shipshape for the winter.

I got a lot of stuff out of it this year.

Caterpillars got at the cabbage a bit,
but I got a good crop of tomatoes.

I wonder what we got for tea?

What do you think, cook, chicken?

You get cup of charr,

two slabs of strike-me-dead,

a couple of bags of mystery
they call sausages

and a bit of wad, if you're lucky,
and you'll like it.

I got a corn.

What do you expect to grow
on your feet in this mob? Spuds?

Listen, mate, I've got corns on my toes,
bunions on my knees,

blisters on my elbow
and misery in my bleeding heart.

And he's got a corn,

♪ Give me one dozen roses ♪

♪ Put my heart in beside them
And send them to the one… ♪

Put a sock in it.

Can I help it if I'm happy?

The trouble with you guys,
you don't realise there's a war on.

The next bloke that says that to me
won't enjoy his married life

and I'm telling you.

Tough guy, eh?

Some smart Alec tripped me up
in the barbed wire today.

I think I know who it was!

What's on tomorrow, Sergeant?

Same thing, weapon training,
field training,

section attack, platoon attack.

Can't we have a change, Sergeant?

How about some nice guard mounting?

Guard mounting, my fanny.
What about a crack at the Jerries?

So you're getting bloodthirsty.
Don't you know there's a war on?

Let me tell you the only blood you'll see
for a long time to come

is the blood on your socks.

Oh, I'm fed up with training.

You're fed up!

You're fed up!

What about me?

Trying to knock some sense

into a bunch of moonfaced
paralytics every day.

But it's my job and I've got to do it.

I've got to make soldiers of you
and so help me I will.

I'll give you Umpity Poo.

I don't suppose you know,
what Umpity Poo means.

No, you're too ruddy ignorant.

That's French, see?

Un petit peu.

That little bit extra.

Some horses have it, some women,
and I'm going to give it to you.

Now, listen.

When you get into a rough house

and a big bloke comes at you with a bottle,

do you stand there
till he hits you on the snout?

No, you step back,

you wait till he swings at you
and you give him right-left,

it's common sense.

It's training. It's Umpity Poo,

I know from experience what it means
and when it comes in handy.

I remember when we were out
in the Middle East,

in one of those desert shows.

Our battalion was ordered up
to do an attack on the flank.

There were nine of us in a lorry.
An officer, myself, and seven men.

The going was a bit soft
and our lorry got stuck in the sand.

Naturally, the convoy went on ahead,
we were to follow up.

But the sand was terribly soft
and we got stuck good and proper

and it's no joke shoving at a 30 CWT
in the midday sun, believe me.

Not all sand in the desert, of course,
you get it in patches,

near the coast and to the South mostly.

Anyway, the more we tried,
the deeper she got.

Mr. Crawford, our officer,

had just signed to us to try
and back her out when suddenly…

Look out! Enemy aircraft!

Scatter!

- Did they get you bad, sir?
- I don't know yet.

Get the stuff out of the lorry.

Hey! Get the stuff out of the lorry, quick!

What did he say?

Here, the lorry's on fire! Come on, quick!

Look out, she's going up!

Well, that's gone, anyway.

What will I put
in my accident report, Sergeant?

Oh, anything you like.

What did we save?

- Not much ammo, I'm afraid.
- Hell!

- I've got a couple of water bottles.
- Good.

All the grub's gone.
I can smell it cooking.

I wish that was all we'd lost.

I decided on a route

which meant we might come across the enemy,

but I had to take a chance.

It seemed the only way to save the wounded.

By a terrific piece of luck,
we hadn't seen a soul,

but I had to stop in the afternoon because
Mr. Crawford had lost a lot of blood.

He was still conscious
and wanted to press on,

but he was getting very weak.

I have lost the line,
but I think we're in the right direction.

Can you go on?

I'm marching
on my chin strap already, Sarge!

If we don't, we'll get blown away.

Or buried.

Might as well carry on, sir.

All right.

Parker.

- Do you see anything over there?
- A kind of a hut, Sarge.

I thought so.

I'm going forward
to have a look at this hut.

You'll all stay here.

If it's clear, I'll whistle you up.

If it's the corner house, Sarge,
mine's a steak and chips and a pint!

Come on.

The door's round this side.

Get the wounded away from the door.
Right over here.

The antitank down there.

Now, the rest of you man the loopholes.

- Sergeant Watson!
- Sir?

Owing… to enemy territory…

you better lie up…

…lie up here and send for help
when the storm dies down.

Very good, sir.

But remember,

the battalion was making a diversion.

So, if no relief comes,

it's worthwhile making a fight for it…

It'll only be a little show…

…but it may help the big one.
Make a fight as long as you can.

Well, that left me in charge.

We were in a sort of desert burial ground.

Sheik Aga Washa's Tomb
it was called on the map.

It was a nice handy place to lie doggo
and let the men get their breath back,

but we weren't left in peace for long.

I dare say they might have missed us,
but I couldn't risk it.

For one thing, our weapons
were full of sand

and everybody was deadbeat.

But it was a pity,
I knew now we were for it in the morning.

Orders for the day.

Well, that's clear enough anyway.

What's it say?

All right, you stay up there.
We know you can read.

You keep your eye on those hills.

Since when did they have saints in hell?

He's delirious.

Are you all right, Harvey?

Yes, I'm all right, thanks, Sarge.

It made my head buzz, though!

It's a funny thing,

I never thought these were any bloody good.

Live and learn, chum.

You don' t think's important
till you leave it off!

Aye.

There were eight of us left in the hut.

There was old Bill Parker,
who'd seen a lot of service in India.

Good soldier he was too,
but every time he'd get a stripe,

he would wet it and then he would be
back where he started.

And the "Young 'Un."

He said he was 19.

I think he was an apprentice
in Edinburgh before he joined up.

And Banger Hill.

He ran a coffee stall in civvy street,
but the black-out beat him.

And Joe Harvey.

He was a Durham miner
until he went to the Spanish war.

He took a bad beating in prison there.

And Gordon Lee, from Cambridge.

We sometimes called Lee "The Bookie"
because he'd never had a bet in his life,

or maybe it was because he read a lot,
I can't remember.

And Jock Scott, or Scotty,

who used to be a Glasgow policeman
but got slung out.

He was a wild man, was Jock.

And, of course, poor Charley Johnstone.

He was the officer's runner
and had been hit bad.

We'd done our best for him
with a field dressing,

but what he needed was a hospital.

I decided to have a conference.

Now, pay attention everybody.

When they make their attack this morning,
as they're almost bound to do,

we've got to make out
we're a damn sight stronger than we are.

This ammunition works out
to about 40 rounds apiece.

Whew! I thought it was more than that.

Only 40, blimey!
That ain't a lot of good to nobody.

I've got a commando knife.
A bloke gave it me on the ship.

I've got a cosh I took off a fella
at the Glasgow Cross.

Was he unconscious when you took it?

Well, every little helps,
as the girl said to the sailor.

- Any more?
- Sergeant.

I've got something.

All right, now. Steady, Johnny boy, steady.

Lie down.

- What is it you've got?
- I've got something…

All right now, take it easy, take it easy.

You're all right.

I'll have a look for it.

Why, of course, Mr. Crawford's revolver.

I'll bet he's got some ammunition too.

I wish it was a trench mortar.

Well, that's a find. Good lad, Johnstone.

Now we've got 40 rounds for the rifle
plus these ornamental extras.

We've still got our antitank, thank God.

How many rounds
have you got for that, Scott?

Ten and one up the spout.
A bag of 36s and that's the lot.

It's pretty bad, but it might be worse.

You sound like the Cairo spokesman, Sarge.

Don't talk to me about Cairo.

The last time I was there,

they charged me five bobs
for a bottle of beer.

I'd give ten bobs
for a bottle of beer right now.

I'd give a quid if you had the beer
and I had the quid.

Oh, stop yapping.

Now, remember, hold your fire
and don't fire till I tell you.

And God help the man
that doesn't do as I say.

- Is that clear?
- Okay, Sarge.

- Any questions?
- No, Sarge.

Could we not attack them first?

That would surprise
the wee macaroni munchers.

Use your loaf, man.

What chance have seven got
across that open stretch?

Any more?

Could I… have a drop of water?

All right, Dusty, we'll see what we can do.

How are you feeling?

Water,

water,

lead me to the altar.

- Couldn't we work him a drink, Sarge?
- Water,

- Give me my mess tin.
- Water…

And my water bottle.

…lead me to the altar.

Water,

water,

lead me to the altar.

Muck in, just a drop each.

- You haven't got a water bottle, have you?
- No, Sarge.

Little drops of water,
little grains of sand.

Right.

Water, water, lead me to the altar.

I've got none, Sergeant.

Ah, take the whole lot!

I said a drop each, didn't I?

Right!

Water… - Here you are, Johnny Boy.

Here's a drop of something
that'll do you good.

The blasted, rotten, stinking…

Water, water…

All right, you keep your eye on the hills.

Could I have a drop of water, Sergeant?

I'm not making out I was a blinking hero.

I was a mug to put
that mess tin down where I did.

The sun must have caught it
and they gave us a burst for luck,

but it was my fault
for not using my napper.

Always got to be on the think
in the desert or they'll get you.

Sarge, I reckon
they're going to start something.

Why, what's up?

Two or three times I've seen them dodging
from the back up to that ridge. Look!

There they go now!

I reckon there's quite a bunch of them
up there

and they aren't up there for fun, you know.

No, I believe you're right.

I got him, I got him. Right in the mug.

Didn't move more than six inches.

What the hell do you think you're doing,
you big Scotch slab?

I said no firing until I ordered it,
didn't I?

- Well, I got him, didn't I?
- Oh, shut up!

All right, stand to everybody
and remember, no firing until I say so.

And then every shot must count.

Steady and easy.

If they get close,
I go in with the hand grenades.

Understood?

Okay, Sergeant.

Okay, Sergeant.

They're coming, Sergeant. They're coming!
And they've got a tank.

- Is it a big one?
- Where is it?

That's not a tank.

It's one of the little armoured reccy cars.

I've seen better things in fun fairs.

They don't know we've got that antitank!
Come on, Scott.

Here's your big chance.

Down here, Jock.

Keep your big nut down
and give them two in the driver's seat.

Pick your man,
but don't fire till I tell you.

Now take your time, Jock.

Make sure of him. He's a pushover, anyway.

Good lad.

Fire, and aim low.

All right, Scott, back to your rifle.

Give 'em hell, boys.

Give 'em hell, boys.

Give 'em hell, boys.

Give 'em hell, boys.

Give 'em hell, boys…

They're going back,
give them one for the road.

Aim for the seats of their backsides

and you'll get them between
the shoulder blades.

Stop!

First round to the old firm.

You should've seen the bloke
I got with my first shot.

He jumped about seven feet in the air

and stuck his head in the sand
like a bleeding ostrich.

Did you see the bloke drop his hat?

Blimey, did I catch him bending!

I got the big fella with the skinny legs,
I saw the look of surprise from here!

Now, wait a minute.

The one I got in the shoulder.

I had my sights on him
when he stopped dead.

Absolutely beautiful, it was.

All right, save your breath,

we haven't won the war yet.

Sarge, look at Dusty.

Hey, Sarge, look!

What the hell does he want?

All right, that's far enough.

What do you want?

My commandant sends a request
for you to surrender.

Tell him he can stuff it.

I do not understand.

Then the answer's "no."

You are very foolish,
you will all be killed. It is hopeless.

My commandant then asks for one hour
to bury the dead.

All right, I'll agree to that.

One hour from now.

We'd got no entrenching tools
or shovels, of course,

so we made do with a bayonet
and a mess tin.

Inside I let the rest take turns
in having a kip.

But those on duty I kept moving around

to make the enemy think
the hut was full of men.

Although one of our aircraft had been over

we couldn't bank on any help from that
and I was worried,

because from the enemy's stretcher parties,

I judged the Eyeties were about 60 strong.

Sixty against seven,

and as it was enemy territory,
they were bound to bring up more men.

Whoever you are up against,
I can tell you odds like that aren't fun.

How much ammunition have we, Parker?

Oh, about 15 rounds apiece, Sarge.

In that case, Scott,
you'd better use the antitank as a rifle.

Right, Sergeant.

Maybe you'll get two
at the same time, Jock!

I saw a man once who was hit by a pompom
and he looked like a flute.

All right.

Get back to those peepholes
and keep a sharp look out.

You come with me, Bill.

Now, tonight I reckon
they'll try to creep up on us

and take us by surprise.

Wake him up, somebody.

What's up now?

Chin wag from Sergeant.

What, again?

Knowing my Eyetie,

they'll come in the opposite direction.

So, I want you, Bill, to take Lee
and go out to that hollow out there.

You know the one I mean.

Look.

- Oh, yes, okay, Sarge.
- Right.

Take all the tracer left over
from the Brens and all the grenades.

When you got out there, lie doggo.

If they come up close,
give them all you've got.

You know the stuff, run about plenty,

chuck grenades from different positions
and fire from different places.

Same applies to you, Lee.

Remember, make as much row as you can,

yell like hell all the time.

Shout the odds, Bookie.

Two to one the field,
a hundred to one Mussolini.

I used to cox a rowing crew at home,

so I could shout that
if it's all the same to you.

You can recite Gunga Din for all I care,
as long as you make plenty of row.

- Now, is that clear?
- Yes, Sergeant.

- Yes, okay, Sarge.
- Right.

I wish there were only Eyeties
in this war, then I could use my catapult.

You and I are going on the scrounge, Scott.

Right up my street, Sarge.

I'll tell you why.

We must have water.

If we don't get water, we're done.

With all that scrub and grass
around there's bound to be water.

Yes, but it's ten bob to a dollar
that the Eyeties got it.

But I know where there is some.

In that wrecked perambulator out there

and we're going to get it, Scott.

If I don't come back, Parker,

you're the senior soldier,
you'll take charge.

When the parties are out,
the rest of you patrol round the hut.

If you're away too long we'll get dizzy.

Well, if you get dizzy you won't sleep.

- Is that clear?
- Yes, Sarge,

I want you to come with Scott and me.

Yes, all right, Sergeant.

What I want you to do is to try
and get across for help.

You'll have to make due south.
That's over there.

But I'll give you the direction
when we get outside.

With a bit of luck,
you might strike our mob,

if they haven't moved on.

Anyhow, avoid trouble, whatever you do.
And if it gets a bit sticky, come back.

If I find them,
what shall I tell them, Sergeant?

Give them this map reference
and tell them we're hanging on meantime.

You might tell them there's a nice dish
of Eyeties to be picked up if they hurry.

There might even be a Jerry amongst them,
they're fighting so well.

There's just one thing, Sarge.

If we're coming back in the dark,
we'll need a password.

Quite right, any suggestions?

- Guinness!
- Wallop!

How about the word the old Sergeant major
used to yell at us at the depot, Sergeant?

Umpity Poo, you remember?

All right, "Umpity Poo" it is.

Got it, everybody?

Yes, Sarge.

All right, you three better get some sleep.

I wonder what old "spit and polish"
would say about this.

Remember he used to say:

"A soldier always goes into battle
clean and properly dressed"?

At the present moment,
to hell with spit and polish.

Now that's the kind of remark
I like to hear from a Sergeant.

When we got out of this,
it's pints all round, or we'll tell.

Okay. Pints all round.

What's it like outside?

Dark as you can get it, Sarge.

All right, out you go, Parker,
and you, Lee.

Remember, don't start anything
until you're sure they're near.

You haven't any letters or papers on you,
have you?

- No, Sarge.
- All right, good luck.

Don't forget to push the boat out, Bookie.

Good luck, Bookie.

We'll let them get down before we go out.

How are you feeling, Scott?

I feel just like I used to
when the Rangers were playing the Celtics.

I was a Queen's Park supporter myself
and I could bash everybody in sight.

Was Glasgow as tough as it was made out
to be in that No Mean City book, Jock?

No, that was all wind.

The only time I was overslashed in Glasgow,

was by a barber with a hangover.

The one time I was in Glasgow,
I couldn't get a drink after 9:30.

It's a pity you didn't know me then,
I knew every pub in the town.

I remember once in the Parliamentary Road,
I got that drunk I lost my helmet.

You take that end, I'll take the other.

Wait for my word
and don't fire till I tell you.

There were 15 pubs and I could get as much
to drink as I liked any night of the week

and usually something for myself as well.

- A fine copper you must have been.
- I was too.

I was the pride of the force.

- Are you ready, Scott?
- Yes, Sergeant.

You two keep on your toes.

We're almost in the ballet already, Sarge.

Are you ready, Harvey?

- Yes, Sergeant.
- All right, Scott, you've got enough on.

The yells and shouts
when Harvey ran into trouble

told us where the Eyeties were.

So Jock and I made a wide sweep
round the other way

to come up on the reccy car from the rear.

It's terribly bright
when the moon's full in the desert,

you can see a dam sight further
than you can on a winter's day at home,

but the dunes make good cover.

Sound travels a long way though,

that's why we had to take
every precaution on the patrol.

Scott had tied on his bayonet
and we left our tin hats in the hut,

but it worked both ways,

so we'd stop every now and then to listen.

I couldn't place the clanking noise.

But I soon found out what it was.

The Wops were there before us
and were trying to mend their toy tank.

Let's rush 'em, Sergeant.

No, we'll hang on a bit,
maybe they'll mend it.

And then we'll pinch it?
Good for you, Sergeant.

But I'd certainly like to get that Italian
with his head under the bonnet.

We lay there for what seemed a long time.

I thought Jock had gone to sleep,
he was so quiet.

But the Wops made up for it.

It sounded more like they were trying
to sell the car than mend it.

It was an enemy party making straight
for Parker and Lee,

so I hoped they were wide awake.

Halt, who goes there?

Give it to 'em, Bookie.

- Yahoo, come on, boys, give 'em ten.
- Five rounds of rapid fire.

Fix bayonets, get ready to charge.

Come on.

Here's another dead end.

Come on, give them hell.

Come on, prepare to advance.

Come on, give them hell. Yahoo!

In, out, in, out.

Five rounds rapid fire. Prepare to advance.

Listen to the Bookie shouting the odds.

Spunky wee mucker, isn't he?

Come on.
I'll give you something to go on with.

Fire at will, boys, in, out, in, out.

Come on, you pud-faced Mussolinis,

you spaghetti,
macaroni ice cream merchants.

This is our big chance.

You take the right side,
I'll take the left.

Now, don't rush.

Just run up easy and do them quiet.

Trust me, Sarge.

Okay, come on.

Christ!

Get him through the driver's slit.

It's like picking welks out with a pin,
Sergeant.

Come on, you spaghetti hound.

Hey, amico, camerata.
Darling, I come out! Please.

Make it pronto. Better come in here, Scott.

Come on, come down.

We want water, acqua.

Oh, yes, water.

Scott, you'd better get the bottles
off the other stiffs.

I'll try and make this bug understand me.

Much acqua? In car?

Yes, yes, in the car.

All right, Alphonse, get it.

Onions.

Cheese.

Water, water.

Right, Scott,
give me a hand with these water cans.

Yes, Sarge.

Hey! Sarge!

The little stinker!

Ah, never mind,
he was too weak to keep anyway.

Scott,
it's time we got to hell out of this.

- You're telling me.
- Come on, then.

Wonder what they're doing over there.

- Sounds like a benefit night all right.
- Aye.

Hey, Young 'Un, there's somebody coming.

Halt! Who goes there?

- Friend.
- Advance and give the password.

Umpity poo.

Corn on in, Bill.

How'd you go?

Oh, you should have seen them,
ran like bloody rabbits.

I reckon he thought we as a battalion.

Sergeant back?

No, not yet, Bill.
But there's been plenty of firing.

Well, who told you to stop patrolling?
Come on, get going.

- Umpity poo.
- Halt!

Oh, you scared me, Sergeant!

So I ought, you miserable little squirt.

Fine ruddy sentry you are.

I've a good mind to put you
on a charge for this.

Where are the others?

Round the other side, Sergeant.

Never mind, son, take a look at that.

Reminds me of the last outing
the old slate club had before the war.

Twenty four barrels of beer we had

and they was all finished
by half past eight.

Good going.

Hey, Banger, there's wine in this.

Tastes more like vinegar.

Give me a glass of red biddy any day.

Wine? Let's have a taste.

Here, go easy, you old sponge.
It's my turn.

Not so bad. Not so bad at all.

But I tell you what would go down proper,

and that's a nice bit of cheese.

Cheese?

There's scads of it out there.

There's a whole one
in the back of that car.

Honest? In that moving pillar box?

Yes, in the back
where we got this stuff from.

Well, why didn't you say so?
I'll go and get it.

Get back.

Where do you think you're going?

I was just going to get the cheese
you left behind, Sarge.

Listen, soldier, if you go out there

you'll get something heavier
than cheese in your guts.

It'll be dawn in half an hour.

I'm partial to cheese.

Steady now! Steady! Don't panic!

They're coming, so stay at your posts,
but don't fire till I say so.

Come here, Parker.

Now they've got that mortar up,
they'll blow this place to hell.

You take those two and make a dash
for the slit trench. Got it?

- Okay, Sarge.
- Right.

Fix bayonets.

- Do you mean we're to go out there?
- Come on! You heard!

- Did they get you bad, Young 'Un?
- No, it's… it's only a nick.

Now, don't chuck your ammunition away,
and remember we go out and meet them.

Right, Sergeant.

All right! Fire!

I've only two rounds left, Sergeant.

Make them both count
and then we'll go in with the bayonet.

Are you ready?

Come on then. Come on then, come on.

Yahoo!

Come on!

Come on!

Yahoo!

Look out, Hill.

Starboard, speed up.

Gunner, these boys are in trouble,

we'll give the Wops a couple
of rounds of 18s to scare them.

Gunner Powder, traverse right,
three o'clock.

Six hundred.

Enemy action on skyline.

Ready fire!

Look, Sergeant, look!

They're ours!

Oh, the beauties!

The wee beauties!

In the name of the wee man… the beauties!

We've beaten them!

- Where'd they get him?
- One in the shoulder and leg, Sarge.

But he's all right. He's got the luck
of a Naffi manager, he has.

He's okay, you're an old soldier now, boy.

Aye, it'll take more
than a bleeding Eyetie to kill me.

Where's Hill?

Over here, Sarge. I've copped one.

Tough luck, Banger.

He was the last one I come against.
He weren't no higher than that!

The sight of the tanks was better
than an open pub on a wet Sunday.

Hello, Sergeant. Having a bit of a party?

Yes, sir!

What the papers call skirmish,
I believe, sir.

I must say you were a big help.

Yes, quite dramatic, wasn't it?

But you've put up a good show, Sergeant.

Thank you, sir.

You'll find some lorries over the hill.

You'd better get going at once,
before the fun starts again.

We're going to hold this ridge
as a harassing force.

- I see, sir.
- Attend the wounded on the way.

Right, sir.

By the way, Sergeant… - Sir?

Can you tell them
we'll be sending some prisoners?

Yes, sir.

All right, come on!

We're going back
in a lorry in five minutes.

Get your stuff as quick as you can
and then get the wounded aboard.

Parker, don't you forget Johnstone's rifle.

All right, Sergeant. He's away again.

Some say, good old Sergeant.

The blinking ankle biter!

Where's Dusty Johnstone's rifle?
Is this it?

I don't know, Bill. Yes, I think it is.

Half the desert's down the barrel
of this blasted thing!

Aah, we could've held them for a week
if we'd only had the ammo.

Hm. I don't know so much.

When they opened up with that mortar,

I says, "blimey"
I says, "this is curtains for us."

How many times did they hit you?

Only twice, thank God.
But they didn't half wallop.

I'll bet the old bloke that's buried here

wore himself out
turning in his bleeding grave.

Come on, you two.
Get aboard the lorry as quick as you can.

- Well, cheerio, mates.
- Cheerio.

Sheik Aga Washa's his nibs' name.

You can have him and his ruddy hut.

- Cheerio.
- Cheerio.

Oi! Look who's here!

Oi! Look who's here.

Come on, duck, the charry's waiting!

Okay, driver. All aboard.

First stop, Sauchiehall street.

For me, Piccadilly.

Camberwell Green for me!

If this is Saturday night,
give me Leith Walk.

Any place'll do me,
as long as there's plenty of beer.

Poor old Bill must have a mouth
like a Chinese laundry.

I don't suppose anyone
is billeted with old Sheik Aga Washa now.

The front line has moved a long way
since then.

Just as a matter of interest,
I always kept that Order for the Day

I stuck up on the wall.

Been around since then.

I always kept it as a souvenir.

Good night, Sergeant.

Good night, Sarge.

All right, run along,
get your little cups of tea,

I suppose you think you've earned them!

Good night, Sarge.

Good night.