1
We're at eight thousand feet,
you can come off oxygen.
ALFIE: How are you doing, Rear Gunner?
(GUNFIRE)
EIGHT O'CLOCK!
ROBERT: ALF, SLIDE RIGHT!
I see her.
Call them out, boys.
GEORGE: Twelve o'clock high,
coming your way, Charlie.
CHARLIE: Mid-upper seven o'clock.
Get us out of here, Alf.
(BATTLE FADES)
I think we lost him.
ROBERT: SEVEN O'CLOCK HIGH!
ROBERT: I clipped him,
but he's gone into the clouds.
GEORGE: Okay stay switched on,
he might come around for another pass.
Is everyone all right?
HENRY: Yes, George, no visual.
Okay, George.
Still here.
But I think Thomas might need
a new pair of underpants.
(LAUGHING)
Alf...
Alf, are you okay?
(MUFFLED) Yes.
Yes.
GEORGE: Stay switched on, chaps.
Douglas?
Come in.
Thank you.
Mother.
Mother, I've been offered a new squadron.
And that's what you want?
Yes.
Mother.
Father Patrick visited
the Price's house yesterday.
Poor Debbie. How dreadful.
I'll be fine.
And you can promise me that?
I leave this afternoon.
(WHISTLING)
(KNOCK ON DOOR)
Oh, thanks, Doug.
Let's just get this chain on shall we.
There she goes, that's it.
Oh, there you are.
Am I supposed to be wiping it off
or putting more on?
Long time no see.
You know what it's like.
I join my new squadron tomorrow.
Biscuit?
(LAUGHING)
FRANK: He went past me
at a hundred miles an hour.
Well he didn't have any brakes.
There was nothing wrong with those brakes,
serviced them myself.
Exactly, poor Ron didn't stand a chance.
(LAUGHING)
Douglas.
Can I borrow you for a minute?
(DOOR SLAM)
ANN: I said no, Douglas!
DOUGLAS: He can't stay here, it's not safe.
ANN: I can protect him.
DOUGLAS: You're not talking sense.
ANN: I am not sending him away!
DOUGLAS: You can still visit him.
ANN: No!
FRANK: Will you keep your voices down!
FRANK: Come on, son. Let's inspect
these slovenly soldiers of yours.
Come on, Douglas, you're going to be late.
You don't have to come with me.
Come on.
Goodbye.
Goodbye, Douglas.
Twenty.
Nah, come here.
Every time.
Four.
Thank you.
Thank you.
GEORGE: Thank you so much.
Have you thought about my offer beautiful?
You know sometimes I
really worry about you.
Hey, Tom!
Tom!
Tell him.
You're an animal.
What do you think, Mummy's Boy?
You're a disgrace to Bomber Command.
Shut up! You're just jealous.
Oh, now you leave Mummy's Boy alone.
Just because he can't grow a moustache
does not mean he cannot attract the ladies.
Oh don't worry, it will happen one day.
Well you can't blame a guy for trying.
Watch the master at work.
GEORGE: Excuse me, miss.
Yes?
Might I just say how pretty you're looking
this evening.
Thanks.
Rubbish, even Mummy's Boy
can do better than that.
Please excuse my oafish friend here.
Watch it!
You what?
Piss off, mate!
Simmer down, lads, simmer down.
Huh, it was an accident.
You RAF lot are all the same.
I beg your pardon?
We've been chasing Rommel
all over North Africa,
whilst you lot get to sit in here
and enjoy yourselves every night.
Lucky bastards.
Let me show you something.
Heads we live and tails we die.
Heads! We live!
Oh, dead!
Dead again.
So while we may get to go home every night,
it is on the flip of a coin
whether we make it or not.
Oh, lucky us.
Think we're needed.
(FIGHTING/SHOUTING)
Morning, sir.
Morning.
(LANCASTER APPROACHES)
Here you are, sir.
The guardroom is just off to your right.
Thank you.
- Go on.
- What's that?
All right, George?
Morning, Ted.
This is Flight Lieutenant Miller,
your new Skipper.
Huh-hum.
Get up now.
When can I see my aircraft?
Tomorrow, sir, she's still all shot up
at the moment.
Where are my quarters?
This way, sir.
Here you are.
Thank you...
Aircraftsman Daniels, sir.
Thank you, Daniels, that will be all.
You'll be okay.
He'll be all right.
You'll be there before you know it
and everything will be fine, okay?
Yes, you look the part anyway.
Time to go, old chap, take care.
Bye, darling.
FRANK: He'll be all right.
Ron, this is William.
You're going to be sharing a room together.
I'll leave you boys to it.
Can I help?
Thanks.
You're going to love it here.
Shh.
(AIRCRAFT APPROACHING)
Ah, Flight Lieutenant Miller.
We haven't been properly introduced,
I'm George Williams.
Williams, excellent.
And where are you off to?
The officers' mess.
Oh no, no, no, you don't want to go there.
Food's much better in the sergeants' mess.
But it's the sergeants' mess.
Well that's okay, I'm allowed in.
You can be my plus one. Let's go.
Nah, bet you three pound he'll win.
At ease, gentlemen.
Mind if we sit down, chaps?
Sure.
Flight Lieutenant Miller isn't it?
Yes.
Nice to meet you.
Robert, Robert Murphy.
Thomas Mayfield.
Henry Smith, where are you from, sir?
London.
I'd like to speak to you all
before the briefing tomorrow.
That's if she's fit to fly.
I'm sure she will be.
Hello, I'm James Parker,
friends call me Jim.
Nice to meet you, Parker.
And what's your name, sergeant?
Charlie Moore.
I um... I heard you were a Spitfire pilot
during the blitz.
I was.
Jesus! What was that like?
Much like this.
DOUGLAS: It was good to meet you all.
Good evening.
Christ.
He's a bloody odd ball.
Feel sorry for you, George,
sharing digs with him.
Seems like a right barrel of laughs.
GEORGE: Evening.
You should've joined us.
I'm quite alright.
I bet you don't even drink do you?
Not often.
No, very self-disciplined, I'm sure.
Ah, made yourself at home, I see.
Flight Lieutenant Miller, I presume.
How is she?
She's not good, I'm afraid.
She'll be fit for tonight?
We'll do our best, sir.
Morning, Skipper.
Good morning.
She's quite a beauty, isn't she?
She is.
I'd like to brief the crew before the off.
Could you arrange that for me?
You do know we're not flying tonight right?
It's just been posted.
GEORGE: It's not the
best day for it anyway.
You could use the time to get to know
the men a little better.
Besides, I have been reliably informed
that the war will still be here tomorrow.
Sir. Morning, George.
Sergeant!
Sir?
At Fighter Command we salute
our superior officers.
(MUMBLES) Prick!
You do know you're not at Fighter Command
anymore, right?
...Tea.
(LAUGHING) All right, Ace, what's that?
Is it the, altitude?
Ah huh. Set a course for home.
Where are your compasses?
There. And there.
Right, you've got someone on your tail.
He gives you a short sharp burst;
He's got your engine. You've got a
bit of smoke coming out of there.
Err, engine temperature.
Right.
Also, keep an eye on your fuel.
Okay. Half left.
So you need to bring this a little bit more
over. Not too much or you'll flip yourself.
GEORGE: He's a good lad
really, they all are.
You just need to get to know them.
I used to be like you.
Bit of a lone wolf, kept to myself.
Thing is, when you're around these chaps
doing what we do,
you can't help but grow
attached to the buggers.
Oh, I really hate when that happens.
Introduced to our WAAF's already, I see.
Trouble they are, aren't you, girls?
Who's your friend, George?
Ah, now this is Flight Lieutenant Miller,
who... Urm.
You are single aren't you?
Take that as a yes.
Who is officially free for the taking.
(WHISPERED) George, George.
I've only got eyes for you, Georgie.
That's Jo.
Cheeky that one.
Charlie.
That Miller's a piece of work.
What have you done this time?
He pulled me up for not saluting.
Yeah I know you're supposed to salute
a superior officer,
but Alf never pulled us up on it, did he?
And George certainly doesn't.
TOM: He's not Alf, Charlie.
I know but...
What?
Is it my go?
I just think it's a bit much.
Well it's not like he does it to you.
I don't see the problem, Charlie. If he
said that to me I'd think fair enough.
CHARLIE: Yeah but, it's not what he said,
it's the way that he did it.
ROBERT: Charlie!
Yeah?
Can a man not have a shit in peace?
CHARLIE: A... a... an... and
I honestly think if he had it his way,
I'd be saluting my own mother
the next time I went home.
God, is he still going on about it? Stop!
TOM: Like a broken record.
You don't get pulled up for your uniform,
do you, George? That's all I'm saying.
Ah yes, that's because I don't let a superior
officer within ten feet of me. Now listen.
I'm taking Flight Lieutenant Miller
down to the Red Lion
for a drink and you are
all invited to join us.
Count me in.
We'll be there, George.
And you, best behaviour.
Whose round is it now?
Yours, Charlie.
Well this looks like a barrel of laughs.
You two holding hands down there again?
Err, what was that?
What was what?
Hand it over, right now.
TOM: Hand what over?
George!
Back in a minute.
Who is she?
Alfie's wife.
I'll go with him.
(QUIET CHATTER)
Three pints, please.
It's my fault you know.
I should tell her.
What are you on about?
Alf.
Don't be so stupid.
It's no one's fault.
He was unlucky, that's all Charlie.
All right?
Now come on, give me a hand with these.
ROBERT: It was just for a second.
HENRY: Falling asleep even for a second
isn't all right, training exercise or not.
No, it isn't.
JAMES: The odd thing is that you were
dreaming about your Mum.
Now I would have been dreaming
about the barmaid down feathers.
She's lovely.
Mammy!
No, he was louder than that.
Mammy!
Piss off.
He'll set her on you, George.
Oh, I don't mind.
I'm sure she's a handsome woman.
(LAUGHTER)
(CHATTER)
KATE: He should have just come out.
I mean it's... Oh, sorry.
Oh, hello!
You must be Flight Lieutenant Miller?
Yes.
I'm Kate.
Well, good evening, Kate.
They said you were a bit of a queer fish.
Aren't you staying with your friends?
No, I've got to get back.
Got to or want to?
Come on let's go and find George.
No.
Oh, you really are a queer fish.
Fine.
Morning.
DOUGLAS: You were back late last night.
Couple of WAAFs turned up after you left.
Good bunch.
Morning, sir.
I hear you spoke to Kate last night.
We're not flying tonight.
What is your rush?
I don't like wasting my time.
I'm here to fight a war.
Not to go out every night
and get drunk with the rest of them.
Oh, you just don't get it do you?
Half the men on this base
won't survive your precious war.
And for some getting pissed every night
is all they've got.
So why don't you climb down
off your high horse.
People might stop trying
to push you off it.
Being stuck on this base
isn't good for you. Come on.
Morning, Kate.
Morning, Peter.
Did you go out last night?
I did. Didn't see you.
Not much chance of that.
Too busy with all this blasted paperwork.
How was it?
Good.
Good? Is that all?
She was talking to
Flight Lieutenant Miller.
Jo!
PETER: Oh was she now?
How did it go?
Nothing happened. He's a bit... Odd.
More than a bit.
They all are, my dear.
Trust me; You're better off
with a simple sergeant like me.
I don't like simple.
You err... you couldn't fetch me a tea,
could you, Jo?
Fetch it yourself!
And here she is.
Well?
Well I can see why you kept her
a secret, George.
GEORGE: Excuse me. I will have you
know that this car is a classic.
Well she's certainly a classic.
Wait a minute.
Is that a smile I see?
And if you're very good, I might
let you take her for a spin one day.
Well hop in, darling.
Come on Charlie, get back in this fight.
(BELL RINGS)
Come on. Come on, lad, come on.
What's up?
I don't know.
You haven't lost a fight yet,
and this guy's got nothing on the brute
you beat last week.
Plus I've got three pound resting on this.
Come on.
Do it for Alf, Charlie.
HENRY: Come on, old boy.
(BELL RINGS)
One more like that. Come on.
(CHEERS)
That's it, Charlie! That's it!
Hey, Jimmy get some water.
Come on, come on.
That's it, Charlie.
You sure I can't tempt you out tonight?
There'll be WAAFs a plenty.
No, I have work to do.
Your loss.
You ready George? The others are outside.
Sure am.
Don't wait up.
George, Kate.
You all right, Kate?
Sorry.
You all right?
Yes, sorry, mind was in another place.
Do you want another drink?
It's just I don't understand
how somebody can be such an arse.
Who?
Lieutenant Miller.
Ah! Douglas.
Yes, I mean I only wanted him to enjoy
himself. That wasn't wrong, was it?
He just finds this whole thing difficult,
that's all. He'll come out of his shell.
Really?
In time, yes.
Fancy another drink?
Perhaps if I try speaking to him again?
Drink?
No... No, maybe I should just leave him be.
Oh, look.
There's a pink elephant at the bar.
I might just go and introduce myself.
Okay, George.
How's the bottle going, Reg?
Barely broken the seal, George.
Steady girl.
Oh, shut up, George!
I could drink you under the table.
Ah yes, but then we're not sat
at a table are we?
I will drink you under the bar then.
REG: No room under here.
It's full of George's black market whisky.
Is it now? We'll have to speed up.
And now you want me to guess right.
Do I?
Yes, you sly fox.
Because your right hand
is slightly further forward than your left.
Maybe it's a bluff.
Or a double bluff.
That one...
Oh bugger.
I demand a stewards enquiry!
How did you do that?
Sleight of hand is easy when your audience
is as drunk as a skunk.
I will have you know
that I am as sober as a judge.
Of course you are, Georgie darling.
For some reason I'm in the RAF
and I don't like to salute!
You little cheeky chappie.
Georgie! You shouldn't have!
I didn't.
(LAUGHTER)
Hang on a second;
I should have more than this!
Oh yes you did, but I left the barmaid
a really good tip.
I bet you did.
Good evening, sergeant.
Charlie?
Are the others inside?
Charlie?
GEORGE: Fix up, fix up.
Hold him.
He's just had a few too many.
Put him in the back of George's car.
Use this to get a taxi.
Thank you, sir.
Douglas.
You have had far too much to drink.
Just make sure you wipe your feet
before you get in.
Is there enough room for me?
Kate, about the other night.
It's okay, I know you can't help it.
KATE: That was very kind of
you, by the way.
If he had been sick on my shoes,
I would have left him there.
Christ!
They're as thick as thieves those two.
Good morning, George... Douglas.
Morning.
Good morning, Kate.
Saw you weren't flying today.
No, thank god.
This one doesn't think so though...
That's better.
There's a new Laurel and Hardy playing
at the Ritz this afternoon.
Oh! Well, I'm busy.
I've got to see a man about a dog.
GEORGE: Behave!
I do love Laurel and Hardy. Did you enjoy
it? I didn't hear you laughing much.
I couldn't hear most of it;
The old chap next to me kept snoring.
Afternoon, Kate!
KATE: Hello, Patrick.
Enjoy the picture?
I did. No Mrs Fuller with you today?
PATRICK: No, W.I. meeting.
Now listen, Kate, I owe George a pound.
Little wager between gentlemen. And I was
wondering if you could get that to him.
Not a problem.
Funny thing whisky. A couple of single
malts and I will bet on anything.
Two flies on a pork scratching
and mine has to bugger off first.
Oh... I'll err...
I'll make sure he gets it.
PATRICK: Awfully kind of you.
Heading back to base, are we?
No, Flight Lieutenant Miller
is taking me for a drive.
He's a handsome chap,
but he's awfully tall.
Yes, awfully tall.
Nice to meet you.
Well take care of this one, she's a good'n.
And sorry about the snoring.
Doris can't stand it either.
Goodbye, Patrick.
PATRICK: Goodbye.
Goodbye.
Here, you can give this to George...
Flies on a pork scratching?
George told me you were a fighter pilot.
I was.
So why did you join Bomber Command?
More leg room!
No, really.
Well why did you join?
My brother.
Your brother?
Yes.
Is he a pilot?
No, he was in the Fusiliers,
he fought at Dunkirk.
He told me that I should join the WAAF;
Said it was the right thing to do.
After he died I couldn't just sit at home,
so I followed his advice
and joined up a week later.
I'm sorry.
What was his name?
Colin.
Before the war he was an illustrator
for a local newspaper.
As a boy his room was filled
with little cartoons and sketches.
I think he would have got on well
with my brother.
He was also always scribbling away
at something or other.
Oh, what is his name?
Ron.
I'm so sorry.
Your poor mother.
Fancy a drink?
Depends.
Is Stan Laurel going to be there?
Who?
(WHISPERING)
Huh hum.
Mayfield. Smith.
(WHISPERING/ARGUING)
Evening.
So, how was the film?
Oh... That good, huh?
From Patrick.
Ah, excellent. Thought the old
fella was never going to pay up.
Just remembering the last time
we all went to the pictures.
Ended in disaster.
Well, actually to be honest
it started with disaster.
Alf somehow managed to get himself
locked in a cubical minutes
before the film started.
Anyway, Charlie decides to climb over
and help him you see,
but when he does he lands foot
first into the toilet.
And to make matters worse,
Alf hadn't flushed.
So Charlie's shouting and swearing,
while Alf is trying to crawl out
from underneath the cubical.
My god, he tears a hole the size of
the Western Front in his trousers!
Mummy's boy has gone off to find an usherette
and comes back with that big one. You know,
the one that looks like she's eaten
all the ices.
Well she shoulders the door,
finds Charlie in the drink,
and Alf with his bomb bay doors
open for inspection.
(LAUGHING) Oh yes.
Chaps didn't let that story go
for quite a while.
What happened, George?
The night Alf died?
We were heading back
over the North Sea from Bremen.
Thought we were home and dry when we got
hit by Night Fighters. It was that quick.
Didn't realise Alf was hit until we landed.
We might have been able to stop
the bleeding, but he said nothing.
I should have known that
something was wrong.
I don't know.
Maybe his luck just ran out.
And then I showed up.
And then you showed up. Urgh.
(GLASSES CLINK)
Oh...! And I thought you didn't drink?
Not often.
So, how goes the investigation?
What investigation?
Your investigation into the clandestine
activities of sergeants Mayfield and Smith.
Who?
Oh, oh!
Thomas and Henry! You've noticed them too?
They do seem to enjoy
one another's company.
No, no, it's much more than that.
They are up to something.
I think you're going about the whole thing
the wrong way.
Bollocks!
Okay then. A pound says I can find out
what they're up to before you can.
You're on.
Where the hell did you find this?
I confiscated it.
Oh the utter, utter bastards!
They're making an absolute fortune.
How many pairs of boots have they sold?
One.
What!?
They have been selling the same
pair of boots over and over again.
On the third of March they sold
a pair of flight boots
to the landlord of the Dog and Duck,
for ten shillings.
On the eleventh of March
the landlord of the Dog and Duck
had a visit from the local bobby.
Who had been made aware
that the unfortunate landlord
was in possession of government property.
He promptly confiscated the boots
and returned them to our crooked friends,
in return for the sum of three shillings.
On the twenty third of March
they sold a pair of boots to dear Mrs...
Well, do I need to carry on?
That's bloody genius!
That's bloody criminal!
What's criminal is that they
did not cut me in on the action.
Georgie!
You owe me a pound.
George!
George!
Time to get up.
What is it?
It's Henry.
He's been signed off by the M.O.
What!?
That's not even the worst part.
We've got the Jerry.
Huh, that's all we need.
Chaps, you all know Schmidt,
Henry's replacement tonight.
No sausage jokes please, Thomas.
Oh, don't be a sour kraut, George.
WING COMMANDER: Tonight's target
is an industrial complex
on the outskirts of Berlin.
You'll be flying down
through northern Germany,
reaching your target at approximately
twenty-three hundred hours.
We have reports of light cloud cover
over northern Germany and Berlin,
so you can expect contact
on your inward track.
Stay alert!
Particularly you, Tail Gunners.
It's a long flight, I don't want any mistakes.
Take off is at seventeen-thirty hours.
Squadron Leader Mitchell will talk you
through the route in further detail now,
before your individual briefings.
I cannot stress enough the importance
of this mission.
Good luck.
Stay sharp.
Fourteen o' six in five,
four, three, two, one.
I'll err, see you chaps later.
No.
Think I'm going to go and get ready.
How are you feeling Charlie?
Better.
Do you have any of those weather reports?
Yes, this one.
Douglas.
I...
I'm.
I just want to say... Good luck.
Goodbye, Kate.
THOMAS: Coms check.
JAMES: Navigator checking in.
ROBERT: Mid-upper checking in.
PAUL: Bomb Aimer checking in.
CHARLIE: Rear Gunner checking in.
Flight Engineer checking in.
Skipper checking in.
Fuel check, please.
Fuel okay.
Pressure head heater on.
GEORGE: Pressure head heater on.
Flaps at twenty-five degrees.
Flaps at twenty-five degrees.
They'll come home safe.
They've got to.
George owes me ten bob.
(TURBULENCE)
Alter bearing to one two-two, Skipper.
Roger that, turning onto one two-two.
ROBERT: Lancaster close on port side.
I see her.
We're just passing Bremen.
DOUGLAS: Thank you, Navigator.
Keep your eyes out for Night Fighters.
(TURBULENCE)
Switching to port fuel tank.
DOUGLAS: Roger that.
CHARLIE: SEVEN O'CLOCK!
(GUNFIRE)
PAUL: One on you Mid-upper! Ten o'clock!
ROBERT: Got him!
Right down the middle.
PAUL: One o'clock low!
CHARLIE: Eyes on two, five o'clock Mid...
ROBERT: Charlie, watch out!
(SCREAMS)
Tom: Charlie?
Are you hit, Charlie?
PAUL: Eleven o'clock.
TOM: Charlie, say something.
ROBERT: Nose Gunner, two o'clock!
We've lost Charlie.
ROBERT: Four o'clock low.
George.
Report Charlie! Report!
ROBERT: Three o'clock!
Can you see anything, Mid-Upper?
ROBERT: No, nothing.
PAUL: Two o'clock!
PAUL: He's coming for you, Mid-Upper.
(MUFFLED) George!
ROBERT: Lanc above, Skipper.
ROBERT: Five o'clock low.
(MUFFLED) George! George!
HE IS GONE!
PAUL: Here comes another one, two o'clock!
ROBERT: He's coming for you, Nose Gunner.
PAUL: Eleven o'clock high.
ROBERT: Ten o'clock high!
Charlie, if you are still alive back there,
pull yourself together and start firing.
ROBERT: There's one left out there.
He's coming back around.
PAUL: Eleven o'clock, here he comes!
Got him.
Nice to see you're back with
us, Rear Gunner.
How's she feeling?
She's a bit twitchy.
Do you want me to plot a course
home, Skipper?
Stay on course, we're not going back now.
Roger that.
Three minutes thirty seconds to target.
What's the air speed, Navigator?
JAMES: One three five.
(FLAK IN DISTANCE)
Bombs fused.
Thank you, Bombardier.
GEORGE: Do you see any chutes?
One!
Just one.
What's our bearing, Navigator?
One four one.
On one four one.
Airspeed one three five.
Two minutes.
Keep weaving, Skipper.
Keep weaving.
Okay, Bombardier.
Engineer, could you bring our revs
up, please?
One minute forty seconds.
Bomb doors open.
Bomb doors open.
JAMES: One minute twenty seconds.
Straight and level now, Skipper.
PAUL: Left. Left.
PAUL: Steady.
One minute. One minute to go.
Forty seconds.
Bombs away.
PAUL: Bombs gone.
Bomb doors closed.
New course please, Navigator.
JAMES: Turn on to two one five, Skipper.
DOUGLAS: Two one five, roger.
It's a direct hit.
Good job, boys.
(EXPLOSION)
GEORGE: Shutting down number four engine.
Wireless Operator, open up come please.
TOM: James is hit.
He'll be fine.
Coms open.
DOUGLAS: This is B for Baker.
Our starboard outer engine has been hit.
Repeat starboard outer hit.
Breaking formation.
Thomas! Take over navigation.
Keep pressure here... Jim!
I'll be right back.
We're back over Blighty, chaps.
Did you hear that, James?
We're nearly home.
Put your chutes on and get ready to bail.
What is it, Douglas?
I can't guarantee that I can put her down
safely. Get ready to bail, that's an order.
GEORGE: Douglas!
CHARLIE: Well you better come down here
and throw me out yourself then Skipper.
GEORGE: You just can't help
but grow attached to the buggers.
DOUGLAS: Down, bolted, two greens.
GEORGE: Brakes.
DOUGLAS: Off.
Good pressure. Zero at the wheels.
RPM two thousand five hundred.
Roger.
On a wing and a prayer.
Knights of the air.