Jungle Fighters (1961) - full transcript

A troop of British soldiers are out in the jungle to record jungle noises and troop noises in the jungle so that the recordings can be played back by other troops to divert the enemy to their whereabouts. As they progress to what they think is closer to the base camp they find themselves farther and farther from radio range until the only channel they can get clearly is that of a Japanese broadcast. They now realize they are probably only 10 to 15 miles from a Japanese camp! The tension is added to by rowdy and openly admitted "non-hero" Private Bamforth who has nothing good to say about anyone and especially Corporal Johnstone (who holds an equal dislike for Bamforth). When a Japanese soldier is taken as their prisoner, the true colors of each man comes to the surface ...

Sounds as if they're moving
'round our position.

- Hear that, sarge?
- Yeah.

- You can hear them a mile off.
- Quiet!

- It's hopeless, bloody hopeless.
- Come on, Mitch.

Let's pack it in
and get out of here.

Wait.

- How did it sound, sarge?
- Lousy!

We're supposed to be trying
to confuse them, macleish,

not deafen the yellow nips.

That wasn't still too loud.

- Was it?
- Yeah.



Of all the half-baked showers.

You lot wanna get
some training in!

The thing is, Sammy son,

for Sonic deception

our recorded noises have
gotta be that much higher

than the natural
jungle sounds around us.

Sorry, smudge, I knew I was
taking it a bit high.

Come on, come on you dirty,
rotten, stinking, long-eared...

Go easy with him, bammo boy,
he's not quite human, you know.

Yeah, none of us are
stuck out here.

Sonic ruddy warfare, decoy ducks
making quack-quack noises

to the japs,
never a shot fired in anger.

Sonic warfare.

Comic warfare more like!



We volunteered for it, bammo,

a soft spot
you said it would be.

Volunteered, you,
you, you and you.

Cor blimey,
my backside's becoming

a good pull-in for insects.

It's better than getting killed,
boyo.

It's better than real fighting.

Go on, you tiny welsh nit.

It's not the British army you
want, it's the salvation army.

Get a move on on the gear,
bamforth,

and move yourself.

Go on, you big berk.

Smith, Whitaker.

What do you two
think you're doing?

- Or are we intruding?
- Off we go again.

- Ready, watch it, come on.
- Okay, boy.

And what does uncle Mac think
of children's hour this time?

Or should me and taff,
this welsh nit,

have granted a towards the end?

You're ignorant, bamforth,
you're just dead ignorant.

Oh, dry up, you highland twerp.

Here.

This is him, corny,
corporal maccorny.

Go on, go out
and make some more sounds.

Get a jap on the end
of your bayonet

and see what kind
of a sound that makes.

- That'll do, bamforth.
- Berk.

- What was that?
- All right, drop it!

If you think you're gonna
stop the jap's advancin'

by playing them records,
you got another thing coming.

You don't begin to understand

the meaning of the exercise,
bamforth.

Look, if the japs think the old
boys are where they're not,

they'll move
from where they are.

And they tell us
about scots' education.

Yeah, I see,
then they land on us.

- That's right.
- Lovely.

The better we do the job,

the bigger ruddy mess
we land in.

Now you couldn't have a better
incentive than that,

now could ya?

What's the odds, bammo?
Makes a change.

What's the matter then,
my old darling, hey?

Wish I had a carrot
for you, boy.

You know, to really confuse
the nips I reckon we need

about 12 million good
island troops, Taffy.

Let's see that,
that just about equals

two jap regiments.

Drain off the haggis
the scots are full of,

drop it all over the nips,
and they all catch

a quick death from
tartan poisoning.

All colors of the rainbow!

The highland division
are the backbone

of the British army,
bamforth, always have been.

Wonder how the boys
are getting on up-country.

As quick as you can, you lot.

Come on, get a move on.

Well, I'll be glad to see
the back of this lot.

Get me a transfer
to a fighting mob.

I've had my belly full
of these half-baked berks.

You wanna try and lose
this lot, Mitch?

You might get a medal.

- You being funny?
- Sorry, sorry.

- I didn't mean anything.
- You better not.

Don't come that line with me,
johnno, I don't like it.

I said I was sorry,
anyone could lose a patrol.

You could lose a bloody
regiment in this set up.

Look, corporal, just from the
book, let's get this straight.

All right, so I lost
a patrol once

and I was busted
down to corporal.

But they're back there now,
see, all three of them.

- All right?
- All right.

Okay.

And I don't intend
to lose them again.

All right, let's be “avin you.

Another blasted lecture on
how to contact Mars...

With a flashlight battery.

You're beginning
to get the idea,

though you're still
making too many mistakes.

That high volume
was my fault, sarge.

Oh, stop whining, Sammy,
forget it.

Now we're gonna try again
in a different terrain.

Cor blimey, how much more?

As much as I say, bamforth.

I don't think you'll
be with this mob long.

You're just
the kind of volunteer

we can do without on this game.

All right, we're going up
country a couple of miles.

There's a tin mine up there
so it should

be rocky country, just right.

Sammy, get through on the set,
tell hq we're pushing on.

The rest of you
load up the mules.

Sarge.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
report my signals, over.

Hello Charlie, George, uncle,
receiving you loud and clear.

Send your message, over.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,

I'm moving to second position
as arranged, over.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
message received and out.

And now auntie Mac
and uncle johnno

bring you kitties everywhere.

The players
of the flaming jungle.

All right, all together now,
little nippos.

We are the ovaltiney's
happy girls and boys!

Shut up, bamforth.

Bloody cockied up, they are.

As long and it's safe
as a walk in the park.

Take it easy, johnno,
we're teaching them,

not drilling them
for a fancy parade.

- Smoke?
- Ta.

Lousy jungle,
gives me the tumticks.

Yeah.

Oy, Mitch!

Mitch!

Mitch, we should have
been there by now.

You own a stopwatch, corporal,
getting tired?

With this mob and this
blasted gear, who wouldn't be?

Now, come on for Pete's sake,
get a move on.

Come on, bamforth!

- You want me, corp?
- I said, "move!"

Smarten up a bit!

Why, are you gonna
inspect us then, corp?

I don't want any of your lip,
lad, now do it properly!

All right, corp, all right.

Halt!

This is it,
we'll rest here awhile.

That's all it wanted, that's
just about the bloody worst.

Shall we make for the hut,
sergeant?

I'll take a look around first.

You're not taking any chances,
are you, sarge?

- Keep me covered.
- Right.

Bamforth, get your pack on your
back and look sharp about it!

Next time you keep it off,
you'll hear different.

You and taff go keep
the sarge covered.

- Right.
- Right on, bamforth!

Right on.

- What was that?
- Why, him, he only coughed.

I'm warning you, bamforth.

Put one foot wrong, I'll have
you in the cooler so fast

your feet won't
touch the ground!

- You threatening me, corp?
- I'm warning you!

I got witnesses.

You'll get six months, bamforth,
I'll see to that.

- I'll have your guts.
- Just try!

Just try it on for size!

You know, you made
a big mistake, bamforth

keep mixing it with johnno,
he's not a bad fellow

when you get to know him.

Ncos, I've shot 'em.

He works according to the book,

the army's his life, that's all.

- What, do you fancy him?
- You watch your mouth, bamforth.

You watch it.

Yeah, don't start
giving me that patter.

You better get some service in
before any of you start...

Hey, oh, both of you, can't
I leave you for five minutes

without you belching
at each other?

- All right, we're going in!
- Sergeant, right.

Come on, bring 'em on!

Let's get it over and done with,
Mitch.

We'll take a rest
until the rain's over,

do one more exercise,
then get back.

Roll on.

Bamforth, Taffy.

Unload the mules
and get them out of sight.

Give 'em a hand, smithy.

It stinks in here.

What I wouldn't give
for a good dry off.

You better go and make sure
they stashed

those mules away all right.

A bloody nurse maid
this mob needs.

Just what do you think
you're on, you lot?

This job gonna
last the duration?

They're all wet
and hard to untie, corp.

We can't get 'em undone.
You'll come undone

if you don't get on with it.

Now come on, bamforth!

What am I supposed to be,
Roy Rogers?

Less of the mouth, bamforth.

Meanwhile, back at the ranch...

I said shut up, bamforth!

Yeah, you want something?

Yeah, try, go on, try.

That is all I ask.

Don't be mad, bammo!

Nit.

Dump the gear on the steps.

The others will cart it inside.

- Got through yet, Sammy?
- Not yet, sarge.

Oh, keep punching.

- Mac?
- Sergeant?

I'm gonna take a stroll around
get the lay of the land.

- Keep a sharp look out.
- Aye, sarge.

Better get in and dry off.

Come on, johnno,
we're gonna see what we've got

at the back of us.

Suits me.

Come on, bammo,
let's get inside.

What difference does it make,
we can't get any wetter?

That's right, boyo,
but we might get drier.

A creep and a stupid drip.

Johnno's got it in for you,
boyo.

He'll have your
guts for garters yet.

- He's after youl!
- Rotten bleeder.

He wants carvin' up.

You know, when this lot's over,
I wanna meet him in town

just once, that's all,
just once!

I got something then.

I don't seem to be
getting it now.

- Will you have a try, smudge?
- Might be the rain.

Best take it down
and wipe it out.

Sergeant said
to get through, smudge.

Well, if we can't get through
without taking it down

sarge will just have to
bloody well wait, won't he?

Wham, right across the eyes
and in with the knee,

finish with the foot, all over,
send for the cleaners.

You wouldn't fight like that,
bammo.

What do you know about it,
you Cardiff creep?

Only good for digging coals
and singing hymns, you lot.

Shows how much you know, boy.

You want some real fighting,
bammo?

You go 'round Cardiff docks
on a Saturday night.

More fights there
than you've had hot dinners.

Country stuff, son.

You wanna see a bloke
carved up proper?

So his missus thinks
he's someone else?

You send for the London boys.

Why don't you pack it up?

- What's that?
- You heard me.

I said give it a rest.

I never heard your name
and number in this conversation.

I'm just telling you, that's
all, I've had about enough!

Blasted little boys
shouting the odds.

One whiff of a barmaid's apron,
you'd all be on the floor.

That's how you want a barmaid,
smudge!

Good old, Taffy!

Getting barmaids on the floor.

And I thought
you was a presbyterian.

- Strict chapel every Sunday.
- Sunday's his day off,

when he leaves
the milk maids alone.

Tuesdays and wednesdays
he's going steady

- with a nice Stepford.
- Come again?

You know, one of them dolls

in a long black hat
and bits of lace.

Always singing hymns,
it's like being in church,

only it's outside.

Tricky move.

So they can whip him up
the mountainside

for a quick half hour
afterwards.

Crafty, these tabs, go on you!

- Take it easy.
- A puddle, so what?

I don't know it could be
pretty deep.

With the mules
and the equipment it could...

Don't tell me you're nervous!

We can't be any wetter.

You all right, johnno?

The water's fine, come on in.

- You all right?
- Yeah.

We should get the patrol
through here

if the level doesn't rise.

Oh, my husband's a corporal,
a corporal, a corporal,

a very fine corporal is he.

All day he knocks men about,

knocks men about,
knocks men about.

At night he comes home
and knocks me, oh, oh!

Singing hey jig-a-ig,
cook a little pig,

follow the band,
follow the band all the way.

Singing hey jig-a-ig,
cook a little pig,

follow the band,
follow the band all the way!

Oh, pack it in, bamforth,
I can't hear a thing!

Order if you please!

Second verse!

'Cause my little sister Lily
has a stall on piccadilly

and me mother has another
on the strand.

And my father's lugging charcoal

round the elephant and castle.

We're the finest flipping
family in the land.

Singing hey jig-a-ig,
cook a little pig,

follow the band,
follow the band all the way.

Singing hey jig-a-ig,
cook a little pig,

follow the band,
follow the band all the way.

Will you cut it out!

Hello, hello, hello, hello!

Our little blue eyed operator
is doing his nut now.

That's all we've wanted, him.

Why don't you keep quiet,
bamforth, man.

I got something on the set.

'Course you did, my little
old flower of the east.

What was it, Sammy son?

Bing Crosby?

I told you,
I got something coming through.

- You think it was the camp?
- We're 15 miles away from base.

You know this boy couldn't get

the British broadcasting
corporation

in his own sitting room.

I don't know what it was
but I got something.

- Try them again, Sammy.
- Try it on transmit.

Tell them I'm coming home
tomorrow night, Sammy.

And ask them what's for dinner.

Hey, what's tomorrow?

Friday, fish and chips!

Don't you think of anything
except your stomach?

He's a walking belly.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
report my signal, over.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
are you receiving me?

Report my signal, over.

- No, it's useless.
- So what's the use?

- There was something.
- That"s your story,

and you stick to it.

Perhaps you imagined it,
Sammy boy.

I got something through,
I tell you.

You couldn't get through
a hot dinner, my son.

You couldn't even get
through a cookhouse tart.

Nit.

We'll take a shufty
round this end, okay, johnno?

Right, thank god
the rain's packing in.

Yeah, you'll be nice and dry
by the time we get back.

- What you got there, taff?
- A book.

Sling it across,
come on, sling it across.

My mother sends me them.

Ladies' companion and home.

It's disgusting, you've been
carting this around for days.

I'm following a serial,
what's wrong with that?

This is the bit I like,

"Margaret dinning replies..."

All these girls writing up

because someone's left them
in a pudding club.

- Read us one out, bammo.
- Well, get this then.

"Dear Margaret dinning, I've
been walking out for six months

with a corporal in the army
who's a very nice boy."

Well, that's a dirty,
rotten lie for a start.

- What does she want to know?
- "I like him very much."

And we plan to marry
when the war is over.

Lately, however, he's been
making certain suggestions

which I know are wrong.”

Certain suggestions?

Go on, you nit.

"He says I ought to agree
if I love him, what shall I do?"

Ought I to fall in
with his wishes,

or should I stand by my
principles and risk losing him?

I've always wanted
a white wedding.

"Yours,
Gwyneth Reese aberystwyth."

- It's another bleeding Taffy!
- Well, what does she tell her?

"Dear Ms. Taffy, I'm sorry
to hear that you've had

the misfortune to fall in love
with a corporal.

The next time he starts
making improper suggestions

you should kick him in
the crotch and marry a private."

- It doesn't say that, does it?
- Well, what do you think,

- you ignorant berk?
- Well, I don't know, do 1?

What do you reckon
she ought to do, smudger?

- Same as bammo says.
- Oh, I don't know.

Things are different
when there's a war.

He might get shipped off
overseas for years.

- Perhaps then where'd he be?
- Same as you are,

up the creek without a paddle.

Now look, Taffy,
don't be a sucker all your life!

You've got a Dolly back home,
haven't you?

Well, now when did you
see her last?

Embarkation leave,
18 months ago.

Well, for all you know, she's
probably weaning one by now.

Well, you know what it's like
back home these days,

it's a den of vice and original
sin, all them poles,

and yanks, and cartloads
of glorious allies,

all colors
of the bleeding rainbow.

Even the kids are beginning to
look like liquorice, all sorts.

You think your girl's
sitting at home knitting?

Mine's all right, boy,
don't you worry about that.

She's probably up the mountain
right this minute

with a big buck yank.

She's not like that.

They're all like that.

Just a load of ground sheets
for the fighting forces.

And if anything was wrong,
I'd soon know about it.

Her mother's my auntie, you see?

Well, you can't marry her then,
it's disgusting!

Not my real auntie,
they've been friends now,

her mother and mine for years.

My father's brother
married her cousin.

You make it sound like rabbits!

Where the hell do you
think we're going, Mitch?

We may never find
that hut again.

Let's go back by the mine,
it's the sensible thing to do.

We ought to see what it gives
before we go back.

What gives?

I'll tell you for nothing,
jungle, rotten, stinking,

lousy jungle,
that's all there is out there.

You're not leading me,
you're complaining.

All right then,
here we go again,

lost but handsome sergeant
chapter two.

I told you before, johnno,
that joke's had it.

Both senior ncos should not
be away from the patrol

at the same time,
that is how I read the book.

The book, the book,
you and bamforth

both use the bloody book!

Here, what are you on, then?

Oh, you, daredevil.

- You mean me?
- Who else?

My socks. What for?

Kit inspection Saturday morning.

Oh, that's disgusting.

What, with Taffy here
and his ladies' companion

and you and your knitting.

If the japs ever come
down as far as this,

they'll have you two grafting
in their regimental brothel.

And where will you be, bamforth?

- Me?
- When the japs arrive.

Not here, that's for sure,
I wasn't meant to be a hero.

I gathered that.

I'll tell you what I'll be,
boy, on the trot!

You can bet your bottom,
bleeding dollar.

I've got it all worked out, see.

Tin of brown boot Polish
from head to toe,

a couple of banana leaves
around the old what's it's.

Boom and it's straight
for the water,

just like one of the locals.

And so we say farewell
to this lush, green,

and prosperous country,
leaving our old comrade in arms,

hopeless wireless operator,
private Fanny Whitaker,

making peace with the invading
armies of the rising sun.

And the invading armies
of the rising sun

carving little pieces
out of private Fanny Whitaker.

- Pack it in, bamforth.
- What's the matter, whitto?

- Gettin' the wind up?
- Shut up, will you?

Nah, get knotted.

I haven't seen anybody hand
a medal to you yet, bamforth.

No and you're not likely to,
my old haggis basher.

I don't go a bundle on this
"death or glory" stuff.

So why not keep
your big trap shut?

Democracy, Mac, free speech,
votes for women,

and 877 private bamforth
for prime minister.

- Show us your red flag, bammo.
- I don't mind, smudge.

I only get a little
worried when that

corporal twinkle johnstone's,
around that's all.

- You satisfied?
- With what?

This, this game of soul
you were playing at.

Feel any wiser, any better off?

Well, at least we know another
way out if we should want it.

Another way out of what,
this is real charming,

another way out of what?

The rotten japs
are almost back in Tokyo.

- How do we know that.
- How...

How do we know anything?

All we know is we've
got a bunch of berks

weighed down with equipment.

Yeah, that's why we're here.

And they told me
there was a war on.

The least they could do
is dish us up

with some decent equipment.

The only thing we've got
that makes a bang

are stuffed inside
the Sonic gear.

All top secret gear has
to be detonated in an emergency.

Didn't you read that
in your book, corporal?

Gives me the screaming willies
lugging it about.

Safe enough, it's not primed.

Well, what are we supposed
to do if the japs show up?

Light the fuse and sling
the Sonic gear at them?

Couple of grenades a piece,

they could have given us
that at least.

Well, you said it yourself,
the japs are miles away.

I wish to god I was.

I can't say I disagree
with that.

What are we fighting for,
comrades?

All right, I'll tell you.

Loose living and six months
holiday a year with pay.

Why, the general
told me that himself!

"Bamforth," he says to me taking
me 'round the back of the lav

at catterick,
"bammo, my old son,"

the British army is in
a desperate position.

The yellow peril
is about to descend on us.

The gatling's jammed,

colonel's dead,
and the cook corporal

has stuffed a regimental
musket in the oven.

We got 2,000 jocks
up in the jungle

"screaming mad for beer,
haggis, and women."

What's that about the jocks?

"Get in there, bammo,"
says the general,

"and relieve the situation."

So before I had a chance
to relieve myself, here I was!

What have you got
against the jocks?

It's a joke,
you thick-skulled scotch nit!

And I'll not stand for any more
of your insubordination.

Come it on, boy, come it on.

Just try pulling your stripe
again, that's all I want.

You'll jump to it, bamforth,
when I'm calling out the time.

Will I hell,
you dim scotch crone.

I've been left in charge here,
bamforth!

Try taking off your stripe
and saying that.

You moon-faced git!

One more word outta you

and I'll put your teeth
down your throat, I mean that.

Do you wanna play it rough,
jock?

I wanna play
it any way it suits me

and right now it suits me
to sort you out!

- Wrap it up, jock.
- Keep out of this, smudge.

- I'm waiting for you, jock.
- Oh, stop it, bammo.

You take a poke at him
what good will it do you?

- You'll lose your stripe!
- The stripe means nothing to me.

Well, what are you waiting for,
jock?

You're pretty big
with the mouth,

let's see you follow it up.

You stupid scotch bastard!

- What's all this in aid of?
- Do your shirt up, bamforth.

Must"ve come undone.

And get your ears together
when you talk to me.

- Corporal.
- Get on your feet.

Move yourselves!

- Corporal, stand by the door.
- Right.

I could've been
a regiment of ruddy nips

and I walked right through
that door, I walked straight in!

- Corporal macleish.
- Sergeant.

- I left you in charge.
- Sergeant.

What happened now?

I had occasion to reprimand.

I'm sorry, sir,
I forgot myself for the moment.

I leave you in charge
of the section and what happens?

In no time at all,
you're running a monkey house!

You had occasion
to reprimand who?

- It was one of the men.
- Well, I didn't think

it was a chimpanzee, who was it?

It was something that happened
in the heat of the moment.

Corporal macleish,
who was the man?

- I'd prefer not to say.
- What do you think this is?

Just, what?

All girls together
and no turning tail?

- Shut up!
- It was a personal matter,

I preferred to handle it
my own way.

Corporal, while you were sorting
out your personal matters,

you could have had five men,
including yourself,

with their guts on the floor.

Now remember that, five!

When we get back to camp,

I'll have you all in trouble,
real trouble.

You can't punish
the whole section, sergeant.

I can do just what I like,
corporal.

I can have your guts
for garters if I want!

It's against all
army regulations.

Hello, what's this?

I was wrong,
it was a chimpanzee.

As if I hadn't guessed,
private bamforth 877.

- Sarnt.
- Now get this, bamforth,

it's crossed my mind
a time or two

that you don't like the army.

- Sarnt.
- It's a mutual feeling,

bamforth, the army's
not in love with you.

The hard case.

- The barrack room lawyer.
- Sar'nt.

I think you're a bastard,
bamforth.

Well, I'll tell you I can
be a bigger bastard

than you'll ever be and I've
got three stripes start on you,

you haven't got a chance.

Now you keep in line, boy,
or I'll have you.

- That's a warning.
- Sar'nt.

All right, gather 'round,
all of you.

You better get the shambles
back while you can, Mitch.

We're going to carry this
exercise out properly,

according to the book.

- You're the sergeant.
- That's right, I am, corporal.

Right, now pay attention,
we're going to carry out

this exercise in this area
and then we're going back.

Don't get the idea that
I'm keeping you lot out here

just because
I'm enjoying the game.

We came out here to do a job
and we're going to do it.

- Whitaker?
- Sergeant?

- You get through to hq yet?
- The set's gone dead, sarge.

Me and smudge stripped it down
and gave it a wipe

but the rain's got in,
or something's gone.

All right, get back over there
and keep trying.

- Yes, sarge.
- Bamforth, Evans?

- Sarge?
- On guard.

- Sarge.
- The rest of you get some grub.

Don't have it all
at once though,

you might be glad
for a bite later.

- Sergeant?
- Yeah?

Have you any...

Have you any idea
which of the mobs

have moved up country?

Only what I heard
before we left the camp.

The fusiliers, two battalions
of jocks, and some artillery.

Why? Are you studying
military history?

No, I've... it's my kid brother.

He's with the highland boys.

Oh, it's only a rumor
I heard in the mess.

Whitaker.

- Sergeant?
- Any joy on the set?

I got something through
about five minutes ago, sarge.

I don't know
what it was, though.

It was too faint to pick it up.

How much a week do they pay you
for this, lad?

It's not his fault,
the set is useless.

Okay, Sammy boy,
you keep trying.

Right, sergeant.

What do you reckon, Mitch?

What's that?

What he got.

I don't know.
Must have been the camp.

No one else in this area
pushing out signals.

Well, the dud said
he couldn't pick up

any of the front-line mob,
they'd be out of range.

So it follows,
it must have been the camp.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Are you receiving me?
Charlie, George, uncle.

Report my signals. Over.

Damn dead equipment.

The whole damn issue is a dud.

Smoke?

Ta.

What time do you reckon
we get back, Mitch?

Tomorrow, about 1800 hours
if we keep this up.

- Sarge?
- Yeah?

Coming through again.

There it is.

Well, come on, lad,
let's be having it.

Ask the C.O. if he's still
in love with me, ol' boy.

Nobody loves you,
you horrible taff.

Shut up!

Pack that talking in!

Just a minute.

Hey, taff,
they're playing our tune.

It must be our allies.

What do you make of that, Mitch?

There's something
weird about it.

What are they putting
that out for, sarge?

- What's it mean?
- Well, maybe they just

like our song, Sammy son.

You've got it all right,
whitto, boy.

You've got the ruddy japs!

If that's their camp,
they're having rice for tea

and my name is tojo.

Bring on the geisha girls.

A right ruddy radio operator

you've turned out to be,
Whitaker.

You don't even know
whose side you're on.

Cut out the talking,
the lot of you.

Whitaker.

Whitaker, I'm talking
to you, boy.

What's your range?

- Come on!
- I don't know.

It can't be very much.

What do you reckon?

It must be under 15 miles.

I can't get the camp.

It could be ten.

It might be even less.

Go on, whitto, boy.

You're up the creek all over.

The japs are way back.

Must be 20 miles away at least.

It was as clear as a bell.

They could be sitting
right on top of us.

Mitch.

Under 15 miles?

So what's happened
to the boys up country?

What's happened
to the forward boys?

I've got my brother
posted up there!

Shut up, I tell you!

- Mitch...
- Go and check the Tommy guns.

- Right.
- Now, you just shut up.

It doesn't matter now
if your mother is having fun

with a jap.

- Bamforth. Evans.
- Sarge?

Keep your eyes pinned there.

Put a round apiece up the spout.

Okay, now put on
your safety catches.

That's all we need.
No more than that.

Now, listen all of you.

You're a very lucky
little training patrol.

Instead of finishing
the exercise

that you all love so much,
we're going straight back.

But we're not going back
the way we came.

We've got a nice, safe
surprise route for you.

How near do you think
the japs are, sarge?

You've heard one nippo
on the set.

Now, that could mean
that somewhere

one lousy bunch of japs has
wriggled in behind our lines.

Half a dozen mugs
like yourselves in hysterics

because they've heard
our young gallant whitto here

putting out a signal
back to base.

So don't panic.

Just get your gear on quickly.

Bamforth, you go
and get the mules.

- Sar'nt.
- Evans, you stay on guard.

The rest of you, get ready
to move off straight away.

Come on, then, move yourselves.

We got no time to play about.

You want me to lead off
back, Mitch?

Yeah. Crack the whip a bit.

Set a nice, steady pace.

I want to try and make it
in one stint.

I'm with you.

That makes a change.

Let's drop it, shall we, Mitch?

Suits me.

Come on, get your bottom
out of the way, then.

Watching me ol' unit. Miss me?

God strewth.

Where's that blasty bamforth?

Always! Always bamforth!

What's he doing with them mules?

There he is, corporal.

Sarge!

Hold it all of you. What's up?

- There"s a jap coming along.
- How many?

Just one. One little bleeder.
Armed to the teeth.

Get down. Get out of sight.

- See anything, Evans?
- Nothing yet, sarge.

Where about?

Over there.

I got it.

Keep still, will you?

Blimey.

Why, they do it
the same way as we do.

Shut up.

I said no noise,
you bloody fool.

I would have had him
right between the cheeks.

I couldn't miss.

So what?

He's on his own.

What gives you that idea?

- You think...
- Cut the talking.

Keep out of sight, all of you.

Evans, keep watching,
but don't fire.

Sarge.

The set.

Get it.

Get it.

Too late.

Come on, then, one of you!
Get him!

Evans! Go for him!

Not that way, you berk!
You want to do for me as well?

Use your bayonet! In his guts!

Not that way!
Feel for it! Feel for it!

Quick!

Come on. Come on.

I can't hold him forever.

I can't do it, corp. I can't.

Just close your eyes
and whoof it in.

I can't! I can't!

- Macleish.
- Not me.

Smith, take the bayonet.

Put the poor swine
out of his misery, taff!

- You.
- Here!

It's only like carving up a pig!

Now hold him still!

Bamforth! Hold it!

- What the hell...
- I"m only doing what I'm told!

Just hold it, that's all!

I want this one alive.
Alive, johnstone!

Now, you, I want no noise, see?
Understand?

You make so much as a mutter,
and I'll let

Jack the ripper here
have a go at you.

Good. I think I'm getting
through to him all right.

Bamforth,
put the carving knife away

before he dies of fright.

- Boo!
- Bamforth!

I said put the cutlery away!

Sar'nt.

All right, johnno,
he'll behave himself.

Put him down.

Go on!

He looks as if he's gonna
fight the war himself.

He's not exactly what you call
a handsome bloke.

I'll fix it so it's Rita
Hayworth walks in next time.

Come on, move. Back.

Around him like a lot of lambs

that got the first taste
of milk.

A moment ago, you wouldn't
touch him with a barge pole.

None of you.

Bamforth, take away the armory.

Sar'nt.

Stand still, you nig,
unless you want the boot!

Blimey, you need
a jockstrap for these.

A right lot I got landed with.

Not one of you had the guts
to give me a hand.

But you cannot order men
to put a bayonet in a prisoner.

What do you think
they dish out bayonets for?

I have no intention
of using one on any man

who can't defend himself.

You berk.

He's a prisoner of war.

Prisoner my crutch.

There's such a thing
as the Geneva convention.

Geneva convention?

He's carrying more Cannon
than the woolwich arsenal.

If he'd pulled the pin on
one of those grenades, "thup."

Up the spout, the lot of us!

Still no sign of anyone, Evans?

Nothing yet, sarge.

- Smith.
- Sergeant.

You better take a careful
stroll down the track.

See if you can contact
any of tojo's mates.

Right, sergeant.

Supposing you were
in his position.

I'd make bloody sure
I wasn't, mate.

- Macleish.
- Sergeant.

You better go with smudger.
Take it very careful.

- Aye, sir.
- Ready, Mac?

Aye.

That's about the lot, sarge.

- Right. Evans?
- Sarge?

Get the mules and start
saddling them up.

- Sarge.
- Here.

You're looking after tojo.

I think he's taken
a fancy to you.

Down, shorthouse.

All right?

Now, put your hands
up on your head.

I said, "get your hands
up on your head!"

On your bonce! Your head!

Like this, see?

Flingers on blonce.

All right?

Hey, sarge, see that, did you?

He did it like I said.

Flingers on blonce.

I talk the lingo natural.

I'll recommend you
for an overseas posting.

You've not see nothing yet.
Now, get this.

Allee-lighty.

Flingers up to clutch the loof.

Clutch the loof. Come on!

Come on! Clutch the loof!

You asiatic glit.

He's a rotten ignoramus,
this one.

Do you hear something?

I'm not sure.

They say the japs can move
around the jungle

as if they weren't there.

Come on.

This is a bit dicey,
isn't it, Mitch?

Maybe.

So why bother with
this little yellow Harry?

Like I told you,
we're taking that boy

back to the camp with us,
all right?

All-lightee. That's the loof.

Loof.

But, Mitch, you don't know

how many more of them
there are out there.

- Not yet, but he does.
- But they could be

coming down in strength.

That's right, they could.

We've got enough...

Mitch, we've got enough
on getting this lot back.

They've got no experience.

We'll have to bolt
like the clappers of hell.

We'll step on it all right.

What, with a prisoner,
three mules, and this lot?

We're going to try!

All right.

You're in charge.

That's about the size of it.

Come on, Evans.

Get a move on!

Tell him he can drop
his hands, bamforth.

He's not gonna run away.

Allee-lightee.

Flingers off blonce.

No, not that, you mug.

Here.

Yeah, that's not so bad,
though, is it?

He's coming on quick.

He knows his flingers already.

Good ol' tojo.

Now let them drop.

Dropsy.

Down.

He picks up quick.

He's a glutton for knowledge
is this one, taff.

It's okay for you, bammo.
This gear is heavy.

Work, you welsh peasant.

Nit.

Did you hear that?

Only those blasted monkeys.

Yes, I hear it.

Sounds ahead.

All right,
what do we do now, Mac?

Do we go back?

We better try and find out
their strength.

Come on.

Flingers on blonce.

Drop flingers.

Yeah, he dropped them
like a two-year-old.

Just keep him quiet, that's all.

We don't want any
of that funny patter.

I'm teaching him to talk.

Well, don't!

Mitch, don't you think
we should have

done him in first time off?

You going soft?

Look, can you tell me how many
nips have broken through

and where they are right now?

Do you want to stay
and count them?

I want to slog it back.

Look, we copped on to a boy

who's got important information.

I'll leave any man
in the patrol behind,

including you,
before I'll say goodbye to him.

Supposing the whole nip army
is behind him.

No, he's much more likely
to be just one of a patrol.

Look, Mitch, just supposing,
supposing he isn't.

Then I'll stick the bayonet
in his guts myself.

You better check
those Japanese grenades.

They might come in handy.

Come on, jock.
Let's push on back.

He's reporting his missing mate.

We better wait a while,
see what they'll do.

Come on, jock, let's get back.

He's not dead yet.

We can't bother about that now.

Now let's move.

Come on!

A handsome young private
lay dying.

At the edge of the jungle
he lay.

And the regiment
gathered around him.

To hear for the last words
he'd say.

Take the trigger guard

out of my kidney.

Take the magazine
out of my brain.

Take the barrel

from out of my backbone.

And assemble

my rifle

again.

Well, what do you think
of that, tojo,

me ol' flowerpot?

It's a bit better than your cop

from one of them geisha lilies
in Tokyo, I bet.

Hey, what's this?

Why, it's a photo.

It's a picture
of a Japanese doll.

Who's this, then?

You got a wife? Your missus?

Well, it's his old woman.

Oh, very good!

Plenty of humpy?

Japanese girl very nice.

Good ol' tojo.

She's a bit short in the pins,
though, but very nice.

I wouldn't mind
a crack at her myself.

Hey, get this!

A couple of nipper snappers,
sarge.

Two jap kids. Couple of chickos.

You got two chickos?

Two, see?

You got two kids.

Three?

No, you stupid raving imbecile.

Two. One and one, two.

Dlinky-dloo.

Number two.

What? Another?

You got another one as well?

Well, you crafty old devil.

You're a bit fond of it,
aren't you?

You're a rotten old
sex maniac, you are.

You're as bad as smudge.

But very nice, though.

All right, bamforth.

Keep your mind
above your middle.

- Keep trying, Whitaker.
- If there are any japs here,

they'll get a fix on us, sarge.

We've got to find out
what's up, Sammy son.

Keep trying.

- Any sign of them?
- Not yet, sarge.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Are you receiving me?
Report my signal.

Charlie, George, uncle. Over.

Cigarette?

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Are you receiving me?
Report my signal.

Charlie, George, uncle. Over.

Ta.

- What was that in aid of?
- He gets permission first.

I gave it to him.

Since when have you been
calling the time?

I don't have to ask you if
I want to give a bloke a drag.

- This one you do, mate.
- Who says?

I do, lad. I do.

I'll fix his photos for him
as well.

All right, all right, you've
done it this time, bamforth.

You've shot your load.

And as sure as god's made
little apples,

you'll get three years for that.

You try and make it stick.

Bamforth! You'll be
court-martialed

when we get back.

And you can thank
your lucky stars

you didn't get a round
through you.

He started it.

You can tell that to the C.O.

Stuff the bloody C.O.

And you, and him, and...

Johnny.

Johnny. British Johnny.

We you come to get.

Where are you?

Johnny. British Johnny.

We you come to get.

British Johnny.

We you come to get.

Where are you?

There's someone
coming down the track.

Come on!

All right.

Wait!

Come on, give.
Let's be having it.

We found them,
a big fighting patrol.

They sent out scouts to find
tojo, had to knock one off.

There were two of them.
We tracked them.

- What happened to the other one?
- He got away.

- Did he see you?
- Aye.

- Why, you pair of...
- Hold it!

How did you knock
the one off, Mac?

The bayonet.

I did it with a bayonet.

Good. Now we know it all.

We're leaving.

Get packed up, Sammy.
Get moving, all of you.

Come on, then!

Get a move on!

What's the score, Mitch?

That's what's troublesome.
They're near.

Their main body can't be
more than a few miles off.

We'll have to get up
to the mine.

With him in tow?

No. We shall have to ditch him.

- You want me to do the job?
- Don't be so eager.

No, we'll lose him in the mine.

He'll be less noticeable there.

Bamforth, you're in charge
of the nip.

Keep a close hold on him.

Taffy, you and Smith
take the mules.

You've got the leather
all right, I hope.

Yes, sarge.

Johnno, you take the lead.

- I'll bring up the rear.
- Right, sarge.

All right, come on, come on,
get a move on.

Come on, tojo.

Come on! Come on!

Get 'em moving!

Don't start playing up now.
We're going back.

Haven't I always treated you
like my own brother?

Come on, boy!

Come on! Come on! Come on!

Get those blasted
animals moving!

Now, keep them flingers
on that little ol' plonce,

otherwise, I'll blast it off.

Now, don't go doing yourself
an injury.

We don't want any complaints
from your missus.

Now, move, tojo! Move! Move!

All right, come on.

Come on. Come on.

Get those animals moving, taff.

Come on, my love.
Don't keep the corp waiting.

I told the sergeant our signals

would give them
a fix on us, smudge.

They could, couldn't they?

Oh, for crying out loud,
Sammy son, stop whining.

Come on, bamforth,
keep that nippo moving.

- He's moving.
- And don't answer back.

Sarge?

- How does the jap end up?
- We're stacking him.

You mean we're leaving him
behind?

He can't tell us more
than we know already.

He's lost his value.

You're not gonna knock him off.

- You want to do it?
- The man is a prisoner of war!

God knows how many more
like him there are

between us and the base.

If anybody's a prisoner of war,
it's us, not him.

You can't just put
a bullet into him.

I know that.
It makes too much noise.

- Mitch?
- Yeah.

I'll take 'em straight
through the water.

All right, keep 'em moving.
Get a move on.

Right.

Just our flaming luck!

- Hold it!
- Hold it!

- Hold it.
- Hold it!

- What's up, sarge?
- Some water up ahead.

Nothing serious.

Now, don't start getting lazy

just because you're standing
easy for a minute.

Take a look.

We land in it,
every rotten time.

Yeah, it must have been
that rain.

Must happen every time it rains.

Charming.
It's clobbered us for sure.

I don't know. If we hang on,
it should drain off.

So we'll stick around
until the level drops.

Right.

Right, listen. We're gonna knock
off here for a short break.

Evans, get those mules
out of the way somewhere.

We don't want them
stinking us out.

Never mind,
my long-eared darling.

Perhaps you wouldn't like
the smell of him.

Never mind
the wisecracks, Evans.

Get smitty and young Sammy
to help you

offload these beasts
before you move 'em.

Sarge.

- Bamforth.
- Sar'nt.

You take the first guard,
just around the corner there.

But I'm on important
war work, sarge.

Macleish will take over.

About time you did
something useful.

Here, Mac.

It's a pity you can't talk
Japanese like I can.

Keep an eye on him, Mac.

Right, sarge.

Now, you behave yourself, lad.

What do you want?

Is it this you're wanting?

All right.

All right, boy.

Boy.

Smudge?

All right, boy.

Okay.

- All right, smudge?
- Yes.

Move.

You never said
you had a girlfriend.

I was courting her
when I left home.

You got a photograph?

I got a couple back at camp.

What's she like?

Sort of pretty-like.

I met her at darlington when
I was doing my basic training.

Catholic.

She comes up
to about my shoulder

with sort of yellowish hair.

She works for
an insurance company.

We were courting...

Three months very near.

Well, did you take her out
very much?

Couple of times a week, like.

Most nights we used to walk up
through the park

along by the river.

Middle of summer,
I was in catterick.

Was it hot then. Boy.

She's only 17.

Is it a bit young, do you think?

Well, that doesn't seem
to make much difference

these days.

Well, do you write to her?

Every day if I've got time.

Roll on peace.

You're giving one to me?

Oh, thanks.
That's very kind of you.

A light.

My name is macleish.

Macleish. Me. Do you understand?

Who are you?

Oh, my. Is that
the only thing you know?

Who, Mitch?

Meaning what?

Who gets to do the job?

Are you volunteering?

I don't mind.

I didn't think you would
at that.

Now, listen, sarge.

Sarge, there was one thing
my old man taught me,

and he was a good corporal,
my old man.

Never love your enemy. Hate him.

You love 'em, you end up
with a bayonet in your back.

Someone's got to do it, sarge.

Yeah.

They settled down
all nice and comfy, sarge.

Aw, I'm very happy for them.

Now, you run along
and get settled down

nice and comfy yourself.

Lovely.

I haven't had a letter
for over a month.

Well, maybe she's busy.

I'm thinking she's got fixed up
with some other bloke.

Well, maybe the mail
has been held up.

I've got plenty from my mother.

You'll get one when you get
back to camp, perhaps, boy.

I don't know.

I've thought of giving up, like.

Don't give up, boy.

This is the life?

Oh, boy.

Yes, this is it.

- It wants doing quick and quiet.
- I know, I know.

- It's a skill job.
- I know all that!

So it wants someone
who knows what they're doing.

You or me,
we've gotta toss for it.

Look, don't try
to teach me my job, hey?

Mitch, I'm only trying to help!

I'm only making a suggestion.

It needs a professional touch.

Who gave him that?

Have you been
keeping him in smokes?

I didn't give him...
As a matter of fact,

it was him that gave me this.

You're going steady already.

- Of course not.
- What's up then?

Do you fancy him?

I can't see any harm
in accepting a smoke

- from a bloke.
- Yeah, you wouldn't.

- There"s no harm in that.
- Not much.

But why don't you go
the whole way, lad?

And turn native?

I wouldn't touch his stinking
tobacco.

It's just an ordinary cigarette.

It's what? Let's have a gander.

Just like any other cigarette,
there's no difference!

You wouldn't Chuck it,
oh, it's the same, all right.

There's not one little bit
of a difference.

It's an english one.

It's British smokes.

Their British army issue.

Give us a hold.

Yeah, they're army issue,
all right.

He must have thieved them
from the lads upcountry.

But how did he get hold of them?

How do you think?

You can have three guesses.

The thieving bastard.

If there's one thing
that gets my goat,

it's looting.

Come on, jock,
you'd better finish it.

You're the one he gave it to,
I mean, you're his mate.

I'll ram it down
his rotten throat

and make him eat
the rotten thing.

Oh, jock, jock!

Come on, jock!

You don't wanna waste it!

You don't know
how much that smoke cost!

He stuck his bayonet in
some poor bloody Tommy for that.

Yeah, some of them would kill
their own mother

for a drag, sarge.

He wants a lesson,

he should have a lesson
taught to him.

And you were telling me
how they treat pows.

- I'll kill him!
- Will you?

You swap sides quick.

Stick it.

You thieving slob.

Who goes in first
and who gets first crack.

Hold it a second!

Jock, see if he's lugging around
anything else

he's lifted from our boys.

Get up.

Get on your feet.

Do as you're told.

- There's this.
- I'll have a look at this then.

You carry on.

Stand still!

Stand still!

I said, stand still!

What's up?

What's he done to ask for that?

He's been looting, bammo,
from our boys.

- He's been what?
- We caught him

with a cigarette case

stuffed with
British army smokes.

Why, you scotch twerp.

You dim scotch nitwit.

- I gave him them.
- You did?

I'm telling you,
I gave him half a dozen butts!

You gave 'em to him, bammo?

What's the matter with you,
taff?

Are your ears bad?

I slipped him
half a dozen butts!

And who gave you permission?

What's mine is my own,

and I decide what I do with it.

But how was I to know?

I mean, he'd given one to me
and I'd lit it up.

I was having a drag,
I was halfway done,

the lousy thing...

I mean, before I realized
it was a British smoke.

Well, what would you
have done, bammo?

I could've choked and I've got
a brother upcountry.

If he's dropped in
with a gang of nips

who think like you do,

god help the kiddie.

- God help him.
- I thought he'd looted them.

So you pull
the big brave hero bull.

The raving highlander.

Well, aren't you the boy?

So what are you waiting for?

Come on, jock.

Finish it off.
Come on, come on, come on.

He's waiting for the hump,
he can't hit you back.

Let's see you bash him one.

Come on, jock.

Smash his face for him.

All right, bamforth, cut it out.

Haven't any of you got the guts
to go the bundle?

Well, what about you, taff?

You wanna have a crack at him?

I said drop it!

Oh, you, bunch of nits.

It was a mistake, bammo.

You bet it was.

We thought he'd swiped 'em!

You lousy rats.

You even had to rip
his pictures up.

You couldn't leave him them,
even.

I'll give you a hand, bammao.

Here's a bit with a head on it.

You could stick it together
easy enough

with a pot of paste and a brush.

Oh, dry up, you welsh berk.

Tojo.

Tojo, boy.

I got your pieces for you.

Look, here's a bit
with a face on it!

Here, taff, shove him this.

Tojo, here's your wallet.

You'd better give him this.

Maybe he'll be in need
of a smoke.

Yeah, thanks, man.

- Bamforth, just a minute, lad.
- Yeah?

I'd like to have a look at that
before you hand it on to him.

Ask him, not me, it's his.

He'll get it back.

- He'd better.
- He will.

- Bamforth.
- Now what do you want?

I was just wondering,
that's all.

Yeah?

Are you feeling
in a generous mood today?

Well, what's that
supposed to signify?

I mean, did you give him
the case as well?

I told you, I gave him
half a dozen butts.

The case belongs to him.

Does it?

The case is his!

Now that is interesting,
very, very interesting.

Because you'd better have
another gander at it then.

Hand it over, bamforth.

- What for? It's his.
- I'd like to give it

the once over myself.

All right,
so it's a British case.

- It's made in Birmingham.
- So what?

What's that supposed to prove?

Then tell us
how he got hold of it.

Look, I don't know,
don't ask me.

Well, I bloody do,
the way he got the snouts.

- I gave him them fags.
- So you say.

- I gave him them fags.
- What about the case?

Look, I don't know,
don't ask me, I don't know!

So he has been
on the lifting lark.

Looting from the lads upcountry.

It begins to look that way.

You've got it all sorted out
between you, haven't you?

It stands to reason, man.

You ought to be
in Scotland yard, you boys.

- In security.
- It's pretty obvious

he pinched the thing. “Is it?

How else could he have it,
bammo?

You pair of ignorant clowns.

Sherlock Taffy bloody Holmes

and Charlie mcchan.

Sexy Blake
and his tartan boy assistant.

How do I know
where he got it from?

It's you bright pair
that know all the answers.

You tell me!

You know, if I were you lot,

I'd have it cased
for bloodstains

and fingerprints
with a magnifying glass.

How does anyone
cop onto a fag case?

You buy 'em with money!

At least that's the
carry on in my hometown.

Where you two come from,

they still swap things
for sheep!

It's a British case, bamforth!

And you're a head case, Mac!

Now look, listen.

I've got a little kid sister
back home.

Twelve years old.

She carts around
a squinting jap doll.

You know how she got it?

I'll tell you.

One night, instead of being
tucked up in her little bed,

she was out roaming the streets
with a bleeding great meat ax.

She knocked off
nine nippo nippers

in a night nursery,
lifted a golliwog,

two Teddy bears,
and this here doll.

You know how we found out?

It's got "made in Japan"

stamped across
its little pink behind.

Now work that one out.

It won't wash, bamforth.

The japs don't import
fancy swag,

they churn it out themselves
and flog it around.

All right.

Go on, beat him up.

Enjoy yourself for once.

Have a good time.

Look, listen.

You wanna know who's got
the biggest hoard of loot

in the far east bar none?

Who's got more jap swag
than any regiment?

I'll introduce him!

On my right
and stepping into the ring,

the fly-away champion,

the terror of the newcastle
church army mission,

private winnie
"whining" Whitaker.

Now cut it out, bammao.

Come on!

Take a bow, whitto son!

Here he is.

The sole proprietor

of the Samuel Whitaker
war museum.

It's worth hard gelt
in anybody's lingo.

What are you driving at,
bamforth?

Ask the boy himself.

He's the proud possessor.

Come on in, Whitaker,
my old son,

don't be bashful.

Tell him all about
your battle honors,

what you did
in the great war, dad.

I don't know what you're
supposed to be talking about.

Don't you? Well, smudge...
No, smudge has seen it.

- He can bare me out.
- Leave the boy alone,

- there's no harm in it.
- It's true, though, isn't it?

- Look, lay off the lad!
- Is it the truth?

Yes, he's got a bit of swag.

A bit?

Why, that's
the bloody understatement

of the war, that is.

It's only souvenirs, bammo.

What kind of souvenirs
you got, Sammy?

He's got 'em in his locker
back at the camp.

Why, smudge and me
had a look one morning

when he left it open.

Come on, whitto, son.

Don't be shy.

Well, tell 'em what you've got!

Just some odds and ends, man.

And a few things I picked up,
that's all.

Well, tell 'em what!

Some Japanese buttons
and a couple of rounds of ammo.

And the rest?

- A nip cap badge and a belt.
- Go on.

That's all!

I've seen inside your locker.

- That's all there is!
- You're lying, Whitaker.

I'm not, man,
I've not got anything else!

Leave him alone, bamforth!

His lockers loaded
with jap loot.

It's like a little Tokyo
inside his locker.

They're only souvenirs, bammo.

When you get in with that lot,

you won't half give the
family the bull.

The newcastle hero.

And you lot.

You want to beat up tojo

just because he's got
an english fag case.

If the nips ever lay hands
on Whitaker here,

they'll work it out
that he's a sort

of military al Capone.

Him, whining Whitaker,

the boy who has
a nervous breakdown

at the thought
of madame butterfly.

Can't you leave the lad alone?

All right.

I've done with him.

But just to put
these boys here right,

tell him how you copped
onto your spoils of war.

I don't know, I...

They just came
into my possession.

Tell them how!

Well, I swapped
some things for them.

In the canteen
down the union Jack club.

I swapped them
for some stuff I had

from blokes that I met
who came down from upcountry!

That's all I wanted to know.

Well, it's not a crime!

No, no, it's not a crime.

It's not a crime
to have a fag case either.

Here! Private Whitaker.

Special decoration

for systematic scrounging
of enemy gear.

You still haven't proved
to my satisfaction

that that's the way
he got the case.

You try and prove it different.

Oh, what does it matter, anyway?

- Evans.
- Sarge”?

Better give him this back.

- Sarge?
- Bamforth, go and see

where that water is now.

Right.

And see what you goons
can cook up this time.

You know, Mitch,
we might do better

to knock that one off.

It's all right, sarge!

Any more for the skylark?

All right, all of you.

We're going through.

Come on then, get your packs on.

Come on.

Mitch.

Mitch, what about...

- Mitch, what about...
- He's mine.

Shout if you want any help.

Oh, Mitch, what about
the special gear?

Fix it so that it detonates
30 minutes from now.

Right, good.

Smith, Whitaker.

Give me a hand with this.

We've gotta fix this

so that it'll detonate
in half an hour.

- Right?
- Right, corp.

Right, corp.

Pity to blow up
all this lovely gear.

That's about
what all this war's about,

blowing up lovely gear.

- Evans.
- Sarge”?

Take the mules
further down that cutting

and leave 'em.

- Leave 'em, sarge”?
- That's what I said.

- Why not take 'em with...
- Just do as you're told?

But they'll starve, sarge,
there's nothing for them to eat!

If we shoot them,
the noise will bring

- every jap in the area.
- Oh, but sarge...

Do you wanna kill them
with a bayonet?

Just leave 'em.

Go on, leave 'em.

- Whitaker.
- Yes, sarge?

Try one last time
to get through.

Tell 'em we're coming back,
the japs are in the area.

But it'll give 'em
another fix on us, sarge.

What else can we do, Sammy?

Get your pack on your back,
bamforth.

Right.

What's the matter with you,
taff?

Hey, what's the matter with you,
you dumb welsh cluck?

Why can't you shut up?

Why can't you ever shut up?

Must you forever be going on
about something?

Blimey.

What a nit.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Report my signals.

Calling Charlie, George, uncle,
can you hear me?

Charlie, George, uncle,
report my signals, over?

Hey, sarge?

Come on, to.

Get a bite to eat before we go.

There's no more handouts
for the nippo, bamforth.

I've warned you, johnstone.

Don't overstep them stripes.

I'll not take any more
of that patter.

Is it all right
if I give the prisoner

- a bite to eat, sarge”?
- You heard

what corporal johnstone said,
bamforth.

- You...
- No more for the nippo.

- The bloke's got to eat!
- I'm sorry, bamforth,

there's none to spare for him.

- "Sorry™?
- We"ll need all we've got

for getting back.

But, well, he can have
half of mine!

There's none for him!

We're taking him back as well.

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Report my signals, over.

We're taking him as well.

I'm afraid not.

He's stopping where he is.

Mac, sling us over that bayonet.

No!

I have no choice.

- You said he was going back.
- He was, before.

The situation's changed,
I can't take him along.

Well, what's the poor nip
done to us?

It's war!

It's something in a uniform

that's a different shade
from mine.

He's not doing it.

Are you laying odds on that,
bamforth?

- But that's bloody murder!
- He's a bloody nip!

He"s... he's a man.

Shift yourself, bamforth,
get out of my...

You're not doing it, johnno!

You're right, bamforth.

I am.

You're a bastard, mitchem.

I wish to god I was.

You're a dirty,
rotten bastard, mitchem.

As far as I'm concerned,
it's all these boys or him.

- It's him and me.
- Get to one side,

- that"s an order.
- Stick it!

- For the last time, move over.
- Try moving me!

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
report my signals, over?

Well, don't just sit there,
Whitaker!

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle,
report my signals, over?

Whose side are you on?
Come on, boy!

You've got no guts,
you know that, Whitaker?

You've just got no guts.

- We've gotta get back, bammo.
- You're a gutless slob!

I've gotta get back!

Evans. Taffy, Taffy.

Put a gun on these two, son.

Why, bammo?

Well, they're gonna kill him,
you nit!

You never know about
that fag case, do you, boy?

Well, what the hell's a fag case
got to do with it?

Smudge, smudge,
now it's up to you.

Don't ask me, bammo,
just leave me out.

You're in it, smudge.

You're in it up to here!

I just take orders,
I do as I'm told.

- I just plod on.
- Well, the plodding on

has stopped right here!

Right here, you've gotta stop
and make a stand!

Well, he's got a wife and kids!

I've got a wife and kids myself,
now drop it!

It's like Mitch says,
it's him or us!

Macleish!

I hope they carve
your brother up.

Get that?

I hope they carve
your bloody brother up!

All right, bamforth.

You've had your say.

- Now shift.
- Shift me!

Come on, you bloody heroes!

Shift me!

Hello, Charlie, George, uncle.

Are you receiving me?

Report my signals.

Come in, Charlie, George, uncle!

For Christ's sake, come in!

Where are you?

Please, god, where are you?

It's the japs!

It's the japs!

Get back.

Get away from me.

Get back!

English Johnny! English Johnny!

We know where you are!

English Johnny!

We know where you are.

We know where you are!

You come out!

You are prisoner!

You have a very good life.

If not, we will come to get!

English Johnny!

We know where you are!

You come out!

You are prisoner!

You have a very good life!

That's enough.

The poor gook.

He was probably
trying to warn us.

He was trying to warn us
and you shot him.

That should just about roust out
every nip in the area.

Come on, come on,
snap out of it!

That's just the first of them!

You've really done it
this time, Whitaker.

You've got the biggest souvenir
of them all.

Take that home and hang it up
on your front room wall.

Shut up, we've had enough
from you.

- Johnno, you take him out.
- Right!

Come on, then.

It's just a corpse.

Let's have you then.

Leave what you haven't got
and let's get a move on!

How about you, Mitch?

I'll cover the rear.

If they're around us,
most likely

they'll come from down there.

- Keep them moving.
- Right.

Come on, bamforth,
get a move on.

All right, leave him with me.

Go on, get going,
we'll catch you up.

All right, then.

Come on, the rest of you!

Let's get going.

Sorry I blew my top
a while back, boy.

You welsh nitwit.

Go on now.

Come on, come on, come on,

let's get going.

Macleish, bring up the rear.

Take my rifle.

Come on, come on, come on,
speed it up, boys!

Okay.

Poor bastard.

Him?

No, you, me.

All of us.

Yeah.

Come on.

Now, come on, come on, come on!

Get a move on.

Get back! Get back,
the place is...

All hell's let loose back there.

We better go on, johnno.

We don't know what's out there.

We know what's back there.

Right. Come on, then.

Back here, all of you!

When I fire, run!

All right.

Sammy?

Sam!

Back into the mine.

It's the only chance we've got.

But Sammy's still out there!

I can't help that now.

- Now, come on!
- Corporal, we know

there are more japs
back in there!

We've gotta tie up with Mitch.

We can't stick it out here,
it's the only chance we've got!

What the hell
can Mitch do for us now?

It's his responsibility,
I warned him.

I told him we should have
hoofed it back hours ago.

It's up to him now.

Now, come on.

Now!

We can't stay here.

One bullet and that lot
will send it sky high.

You get back, I'll give you
a covering fire.

I'm coming back!

The yellow bastards
are all around us!

Hey, Mitch.

Get down!

What the hell
are you doing back here?

Where's the patrol?

The place is lousy with japs
back there, too.

There ain't no patrol.

He's on his bloody own.

Mitch.

Mitch, there was nothing
I could do.

We've had it!

Look, the patrol came through,

there was a sniper in a tree.

Macleish was shot and there was
Smith and Whitaker.

Mitch!

Christ.

You fool, bammo.

Do we have to get killed?

Let's pack it in.

Why, bammo?

Why do we all have to get
lumbered?

Let's turn it in, bammo!

Come on, then!

Here he is, have this!

Bamforth!

Bammo?

Bammo?

Come on, come on, bammao.

Bammo?

Stop it!

Here.

Here, look.

Look at this.

Come on.

Look at this.

Look at it.