Battle of Britain (1969) - full transcript

FRANCE - MAY 1940

Who the hell's he trying to kid?

Hello, Abbeville?

If you cannot connect me
with Metz, get me Paris.

I don't mind, but hurry.
Of course, we'll wait.

Reinforcements, sir?

Why don't you cut out the clowning?

Me, sir? What have I done?

Don't ever let me see you doing
a victory roll over my airfield again.

I thought it would buck up the civilians.

Oh, for God's sake, Jamie,
give your brain a chance.



Corporal! Refuel them immediately.

Yes, sir.

So anyway, he hit me
and made me nose bleed...

Corporal, I don't mean with your blood.

I gave him a couple of socks...

And rearm them.

Yes, sir!

Hello, Harvey. Where's Jumbo?

Posted missing last night.

You acting C.O.?

Oh, yeah. Of what?

Five serviceable aircraft,
no spares, no contact.

First we knew the bastards had
overrun us was when we tried to land.

Yes, I hear you very well.



What?

Are you sure? They are at Sedan?

For the benefit of the uneducated
among us, I shall translate.

Our chum can't believe that Sedan's fallen.
I can.

It's no use. They'll be here in half
an hour. We must leave immediately.

Yes, let's get the hell out of it.

Where to, sir?

Why don't you follow me and find out?
Come on, idiots!

Abbeville.
Unless they've got there before us.

Get that Bowser out of here.
We'll go with what we've got.

All right, forget your kit. Let's move.

Brakes on!

Get all the transports you can,
and try and get the men out of here.

All NCOs report to me immediately!

You know what to do
with the lame ducks?

Yes, sir.

Chocks away.

All the erks over here!

Over the wing! Flood the cowling!

Plenty of it.

Right, stand clear. Into the trucks.

Come on, we haven't got all day!

'To the Permanent
Secretary of State for Air.

'Sir, I have the honor to refer
to the very serious calls

"which have recently been made
upon Fighter Command"

"in an attempt to stem
the German invasion of the continent."

"I hope and believe that our armies may
yet be victorious in France and Belgium."

"But we have to face the possibility
that they may be defeated."

"In this case, I presume"

'that there is no one who would deny
that England should fight on,

"even though the remainder
of the continent of Europe"

"is dominated by the Germans."

"I must therefore request that not one
more fighter be sent across the Channel."

"If the home defense is drained away"

"in desperate attempts
to remedy the situation in France,"

"defeat in France will involve
the final, complete,"

"and irremediable defeat of this country."

"I have the honor to be, sir,
your obedient servant,."

"H.C.T. Dowding."

Air Chief Marshal Dowding, sir.

You do realize, Dowding,
the position this puts us in?

I realize that the French
have been promised these squadrons.

By Churchill personally.

He's given the French
Prime Minister his word.

You do appreciate, Dowding,
that Churchill will have to see this?

That's why I wrote it.

This is the
BBC Home Service. Here is the news.

In the House of Commons this afternoon,
the Prime Minister, Mr. Churchill, said,

"What General Weygand called
the Battle of France is over.

'The Battle of Britain is about to begin."

Eyes right!

I welcome you, General.

Thank you, Kesselring.

- My dear Fink.
- General.

- Everything all right?
- We are ready, General.

Very well, gentlemen,
then forward.

Everybody! Attention!

Guard! Attention!

Everybody! Attention!

Eyes right!

Everybody out!

Raise the barrier.

Attention!

If I have to inspect
one more bomber, Kesselring...

I won't recommend you
for promotion.

- May I finish the inspection?
- Certainly.

Thanks, sir.

Have a pleasant journey.

England is not
our natural enemy.

You heard him say it.

This time he's wrong.

They're on their knees.
They're finished.

We'll never have a chance
like this again.

It's ridiculous!

Ridiculous? It's a catastrophe.

Baron von Richter.

The Fuehrer
will see you now, sir.

BRITISH EMBASSY - SWITZERLAND

My dear Max!

How lovely to see you
back in Switzerland so soon.

I came straight from Berlin an hour ago.

- The ambassador will see you now, sir.
- Thank you.

Excuse me, please.

Sir David, I'm again
instructed to emphasize

that the Fuehrer wishes
to avoid further bloodshed.

England is not our natural enemy,

and he offers guarantees
for the British Empire

if you give Germany a free hand in Europe.

Goering and his Luftwaffe
would like to flatten London

as a prelude to invasion.

It's two lumps you take, isn't it?

What's left of your army
abandoned its weapons at Dunkirk.

You're defenseless
and just playing for time.

We know the moves
you're making in Washington,

and we know the Americans
won't be drawn in.

Their embassy in London
gives you two weeks.

So what's stopping you?

Look, David, the Fuehrer is being
very reasonable. He offers guarantees.

Experience shows the Fuehrer's
guarantees guarantee nothing.

And what about Churchill?
After our last appeal, what do we hear?

"We will fight them on the beaches."

- With what?
- Winston gets carried away sometimes.

With liquid courage.

So they tell me.

Clearly you don't know him.

David, we are not asking for anything.

Europe is ours. We can walk
into Britain whenever we like.

If you think we're going to gamble
on Herr Hitler's guarantees,

you're making a grave mistake.

All those years in England
seem to have left you none the wiser.

We're not easily frightened.

Also, we know how hard it is
for an army to cross the Channel.

The last little corporal who tried
came a cropper.

So don't threaten or dictate to us
until you're marching up Whitehall.

And even then, we won't listen.

Heil Hitler.

It's unforgivable.

I lost my temper.

The maddening thing is that he's right.

We're not ready, we're on our own,

and we've been playing for time.

And it's running out.

JUNE 1940

Silly bitch!

He's calling you names again, Arnold.

I spent half a week settling
her and the kids in the country,

and now, "I'm bored," she says.

One of your elite,
trying to land without wheels.

Boomps-a-daisy!

It's enough to make you weep.

And welcome home, sir.

Undercarriage lever a bit sticky,
was it, sir?

Well, yes, as a matter of fact, it was.

Well, I wouldn't tell the C.O. that, sir,
not if I were you.

"You can teach

- "monkeys to fly better than that."
- "Monkeys to fly better than that."

I'm terribly sorry about that, sir.
It won't happen again. I...

Keep yourjacket on, boy.

How many hours
have you done in Spits, Simon?

On Spits, sir? Ten and a half.

Well, make it 11,

before Jerry has you for breakfast.

Spring chicken to shitehawk
in one easy lesson.

This is Rabbit Leader.
Are you receiving me?

Hello, Rabbit Leader. Red Three
answering. Receiving you loud and clear.

Right. I'll try and get on your tail,

and I want you to take
evasive action. Understood?

Hello, Rabbit Leader.
Red Three answering. Understood.

Hello, Rabbit Leader.

I thought you might come in from the sun.

Don't think. Don't just glance, look!

Search for the bastards!

And never fly in a straight line,
or you're a dead duck.

Sir.

Now let's try it again.

Or, in other words,
beware of the Hun in the sun,

who, for reasons best known to himself,

has confined his recent attacks
to our Channel convoys.

However, this won't last forever.

But it has given us a chance

to pull ourselves together
and to train people like you.

Now, as fighter controllers,
you'll be joining an organization

which, thank the good Lord,
was not rushed up hastily yesterday.

It'll be a pain in the neck to the enemy
when he comes.

It's the joker up our sleeves.

Now, the RDF chain shows us
where they are.

The information is passed to Group.
Group scrambles the necessary squadrons,

and you, at Sector level,
guide our chaps to the interception.

It's been tried and tested. It works.

So don't blame the system
if you're no good.

Now, clearly, 11 Group here
will bear the brunt of the battle,

as those of you who are posted there
will find out, to your discomfort.

Twelve Group is our second line
of defense,

and covers the industrial Midlands
and the North.

Thirteen Group,
Scotland and the Northeast,

and 10 Group, the west of England.

More than half
the Fighter Command squadrons

are stationed here at 11 Group,

near the coast,
where we expect the invasion,

and also able to protect London,

which is as far as the bombers can get
with fighter escort.

But I think we can leave strategy
to those with egg on their hats.

Stand at attention!

Gentlemen,
the Inspector General is here.

This way.

Thank you.

- My dear Foehn, how are you?
- Fine, thanks, General.

- Falke?
- Thanks, General.

May I introduce my brother, sir?

Another fighter ace?

When I get the chance, sir.

We have borrowed this.

- Dover?
- Dover.

Those masts are
their radio direction finders?

England's secret weapon.

Which we captured at Dunkirk.

Our Stukas can deal with them.

Excuse me, General, but why?

If they know we're coming,
so much the better.

Just what we want.

The men are
in excellent spirits.

I can see that for myself!

I just mean that
we shouldn't wait too long.

It may happen sooner
than you think.

Please, gentlemen.

- Come, Falke.
- Thank you, General.

This delay is an incredible piece of luck.

I mean, they roll up France, and then stop.

They could have gone right on.

You know, our latest intelligence

is that Herr Hitler is
sightseeing in France.

It is rather pleasant weather.

No, I mean it! He's on holiday.

I'm not complaining, Minister.

No, no, no, seriously, Dowding.

The morale factor is vital.
I saw Beaverbrook on Monday.

Now, he's going to be able to deliver
as many as 100 fighters a week.

Well, after seeing you, I want
to be able to go back to the Cabinet

and tell them that you're
as confident as I am.

Damn it, man, we've got 650 planes!

And they have 2,500 aircraft, haven't they?

Oh, yeah.

But they won't all come over at once.

And we have radar.
Churchill puts great faith in radar.

It's vital.

But it won't shoot down aircraft.

I must say, you don't exactly
exude a spirit of optimism.

God willing, we will hold out, Minister.

I see. So I tell the Cabinet that you're
trusting in radar and praying to God.

Is that right?

More accurate the other way round.

I'm trusting in God and praying for radar.

But the essential arithmetic
is that our young men

will have to shoot down their young men
at the rate of four to one

if we're to keep pace at all.

It's the oil pressure, sir,
but the gauge is being checked.

All right, Charlie. Carry on.

Thank you, sir.

- Never give up, do you, Charlie?
- Instrument check, sir.

I hope your new C.O. believes you.

He's gonna be one of your headaches now.

No, they know the order is
"Don't tangle unnecessarily,"

so it's "May I do an engine check, sir?
Or undercart check, or radio?"

Any excuse to get at the Jerries.

Well, at least it shows they're keen.

Yeah, they're a good bunch.
God knows what I'll find in Scotland.

A lot of kids with down on their cheeks.

Yeah, training them to be fighter pilots

is a damn sight more dodgier
than fighting Germans.

Well, you've got to earn
that new stripe somehow.

Well, at least I got three days in town.

Give my regards to your wife.

Thanks, sir.

May I have a word, sir?

- Good luck, sir.
- Thanks for the party, sir.

- Watch out, sir.
- Hey, send us back a haggis!

If you want permission for a test flight,
the answer is no.

Large Scotch, please.

You with that lot
down the road, sir?

No.

- One and six, please.
- Thank you.

Thank you.

You applied for that post in Scotland?

- Darling, I can't.
- You can't?

You know I can't.

- You mean you don't want to.
- Can't! I've got a job.

What have we got? What the hell is this?

Is it a marriage
or a flaming Air Force committee?

For God's sake, Colin,
don't start that all over again.

I knew this would happen.

You know I never wanted you
to join up. Never.

- Colin, please...
- You didn't take a blind bit of notice.

Try to behave as if I were a human being.

You look more like
a parade-ground suffragette to me.

I'm just not cut out
to wave a wet hanky on sooty stations.

Oh, for God's sake, who's asking you to?

We'll be in Scotland together.

Oh, I never could stand marching women.

You couldn't care less, could you?

I cared enough to come here, 50 miles.

- I didn't measure it.
- I did.

I even booked a room.

Three days.

Could be marvelous.

Are you going to apply
for that posting or not?

Left, right, left!

Right, left, right, left, right.

Squad, halt!

Right turn!

Order arms!

Now, wait for it. Squad,

dismissed!

Come on, Alfie.
You're not dead yet.

- It's his turn.
- You'll be lucky.

- Twelve pints please, Fred.
- And two lights.

- And one for the sarge.
- Let him get his own!

No, sir, it's not Charlie.

Some Hurricane out ofjuice, very likely.

Right. Well, call me directly
you hear anything.

Well, somebody must have spotted him.
He can't just disappear.

All right, I'll hang on.

Sir! It's Air Vice Marshal Park!

That's all we need now.

Jamie, hang on to this.

- Good afternoon, sir.
- Tell your men to relax.

How are they making out, Canfield?

Half the squadron are new pilots, sir.

That's why you were sent here,
to lick them into shape.

They get less warning here
than any other station,

so they must learn to get up and stand by
in two minutes flat

if they're to intercept the enemy.

Hello? Dispersal.

Right.

Stand down, A Flight.

Yours?

Yes, sir. The chaps spoil her.

All right, Canfield, what's up?

You have a pilot missing.

Yes, sir.

Over the Channel?

Is he much overdue?

Over two hours, sir.

I thought I'd made it clear

we're too near the enemy for pilots
to go swanning around on their own.

We can't afford to lose them this way.

What's the excuse this time?

- Undercarriage check?
- Instruments, sir.

Yes, well, we've all done it,
but that's no excuse.

What's his name?

Pilot Officer Lambert, sir.

Gerhardt, my bath!

Certainly, Major.

Do me a favor, not now.

These are
the day's instructions...

- and they must go off today.
- All right, if I must.

I know... you just happened
to find it.

That doesn't concern you.

Hurry up. My evening meal
will not wait for you.

In exactly five minutes,
we're off to Boulogne.

Hans, look after Major Foehn.

Good evening, sir.
May I lead the way?

Certainly. Go ahead.

But don't let him
near the wine cellar!

What's the best way
to evade a Spitfire, Major?

- The best is in a flat curve.
- But, sir, my brother says...

that a Spitfire
can outmaneuver a 109.

When we get to England,
let him take up a Spitfire...

and prove it to me in my 109.

Deal! But don't forget
your life jacket.

I told you to look after
our guest, not to drown him.

Major Foehn doesn't think much
of the shot method.

If you taught your boys
to shoot sharper...

Excuse me.

Sir, you are to report
to Wissant.

What, now?

Immediately.
And Major Foehn, too.

I think I know
why we are wanted in Wissant.

This is it.

AUGUST 10th. 1940.

Gentlemen... Eagle Day.

The destruction of the
Royal Air Force on the ground.

Take-off time. 07:15.

Our targets in Southern England
are the following airfields...

Manston. Biggin. Kenley.

Dover. Hawkinge.

Our task is to destroy
the R.A.F on the ground.

There'll be nothing left for us!

Don't worry, we won't be able
to destroy everything.

Enough Spitfires will remain.

Even for you, Bruno.

Fly at maximum height
and make good use of it.

And try not to land
in the Channel.

In other words, keep your eyes
on your petrol gauges.

Remember, you've only got
30 minutes over there.

Let's go.

Move. I'm here.

Hostile, Two-Three.

- Morning, all.
- Bearing 186.

Range 30 miles. Twenty plus.

Height 6,000.

Yes, Stanmore, I confirm. No IFF.

Hostile Two-Nine, now 30 plus.

Yes, Stanmore, I confirm.

Recheck IFF, please, Ventnor.

Sorry to call you in, sir,
but something's building.

- At Two-Eight now, 40 plus.
- Hostile...

Convoys?

None due through until tonight, sir.

Hostile Three-One,
40 plus, one-six.

Need some more blue markers, please.

Better bring more squadrons to standby.

Right, sir. Get me Biggin Hill.

Reconfirm Hostile Two-Three.

Hostile Two-Three, 180.

Getting interference again, sir.

Not now, Corporal, not now.

That's better. Five miles.

I'm afraid the raid is entering
my ground array, Stanmore.

Stukas.

- Get them up. Get them up!
- 43 Squadron, intercept Hostile Two-One.

That was Stanmore, sir.
Ventnor radar out of action.

- Who's covering Dover?
- 54 Squadron, sir.

- Six squadrons airborne, sir.
- Too slow.

Some of them took six and seven minutes.
They'll have to do it in two.

Tally-ho, Velvet Leader!
Down there on the left!

Stukas!

Roger. Here we go. Attacking now.

Yellow Section,
keep your eyes peeled for the escorts.

Spitfires!

Easier to hit than a barn door.

It's like shooting rats in a barrel.

You'll be in a barrel
if you don't watch out for the fighters.

Can't you hear me?

Ventnor, and now Dover's out of action.
Our plots are drying up.

Then we're blind.

So now we've only got
the Observer Corps.

This is only the beginning.
They won't stop now.

Heinkels!

- No, make it 100 plus.
- Hello? Hello!

Heinkels. A hundred plus.

Yes, Center. Still going north.

- Height?
- 12,000.

Dispersal.

Two Section scramble!

Get moving!

At the double!

Lookout.

Right.

Muck and filth everywhere, Mr. Warwick.

It's like a pigsty!

The cooks don't come on till 6:00, sir.

Well, you've got some defaulters.
Put them on to it.

Come on, you lot! Move!

You'd be in there fast enough
if it was real! At the double!

Oh, my God.

Section Officer Harvey!

Sir.

Section Officer Harvey,
I've noticed that some of your girls

are now using the men's trenches
during air-raid practice. It's got to stop.

Sir.

And another thing. Gas-mask cases.

They're for gas masks.
They're not handbags.

I do realize, of course,

that female requirements
differ somewhat from the male.

Nevertheless, that's no excuse to...

God's teeth! Take cover!

You bastards.

Well, at least we know
what Jerry's going for.

All our airfields, unfortunately.

It's a squadron scramble, sir!

Don't be wet. Get me the duty controller.

We've only just come down.
We're still refueling. Tell Control...

Christ!

Don't just stand there! Get one up!

Come on, Johnson!

Put the Bowsers away!

The rest of you men, in the trenches!

Look out, lads!

Talk about a hairy takeoff!
I saw Jimmy buy it. Did Archie get off?

Oh, I'm with you, old boy,
but I've left my stomach behind.

Oh, shut up, will you?

Rabbit Leader to Cowslip Control.
Do you read me? Over.

For Christ's sake, Cowslip!
Wake up, will you?

Rabbit Squadron airborne!

Close up, Red Two!

Stick to me like glue, Simon.

Rabbit Leader? Sorry about that.
This is Cowslip.

About time, too. Where'd they go?

Bandits now 20 miles east of you

heading southeast, vector 120,

and make Angels two-oh.

Wilco, Cowslip.

Rabbits turning port now.

Come in, Red Two!
Where the hell are you?

Where the hell are you, Simon?

You lads, pull yourselves together!

Get moving! Clear up all this rubble!

Move! Move!

Bates, pull yourself together.

Stay with them, Seymour.

It's all right. I'll see to it.

Number Two hangar
is clear now, sir.

Right.

- Over here, you lot!
- Run the hoses out! Over here!

Put that cigarette out!

The mains have gone!
Can't you smell gas?

Don't you yell at me, Mr. Warwick!

Here! You men!

Don't stand there looking at it,
you idle shower!

You. Get me some stretchers,
and the orderly.

- Ma"am.
- Fast!

You can stand some of the girls down
now, Corporal.

Jones, Whitman, clear up that mess.
Then you can take five minutes.

Forty-three, stand down.

111 released. 501 are down at Tangmere.
They couldn't get in at Biggin.

Well, a few more days like this

and we won't be able
to get them down anywhere.

I suppose we could always pull them all
back north of the Thames, out of range.

That is precisely what they want us to do.

This is the
BBC Home Service. Here is the 9:00 news.

Large formations of enemy aircraft today
attacked targets in southern England,

but the enemy's aerial armada
came in for heavy punishment.

Over 47 German planes were destroyed

for the loss of only 15
of our own aircraft.

Six of these pilots were saved.

Several RAF aerodromes
were also attacked,

and some casualties were sustained,
but they were light.

We must take advantage
of the good weather.

We are destroying as many aircraft
on the ground as in the air.

Reichsmarschall Goering
will be interested in these figures.

We have destroyed nearly 300 planes.

Half the entire British fighter force.

Schmidt can say what he likes -

- the fact remains, our bombers
continue to be intercepted.

Because the English are bringing down
reserves from the north.

Right. So we intensify attacks -

- against airfields -

- and from Norway
we will attack the North.

Beyond the range of our fighters!

And theirs...

even a Spitfire can't be
in two places at once.

How far are we from the coast?

Everybody, action stations.

Tomato One to all. Tomato One to all.

Ten minutes to target.

All ready at fighter stations.
Ten minutes to target. End.

Spiftire!

Help yourself, everybody.
There's no fighter escort.

Soap Box Leader.
Break it off. Home and tea.

For once you deserve it.
Well done, everybody.

Heinkel. Three-second burst.

Starboard engine. Ruddy great flamer.

- Any identification marks?
- Yellow stripes on the wings.

A wing leader. See it go down?

Did I?

Well, Graham and Jock
will confirm your story.

That's three of you who got him.

Eh?

A third of a kill, laddie. A third.

Sir.

- Well, any joy?
- A Heinkel.

- Anyone see mine go in?
- Didn't know you were with us!

- Right, fine flying.
- Thank you, sir.

Well done, Peter.

Only a third of a one, sir.

Oh, that's better than nothing.

I used to blast away
and never hit a sausage.

- One thing, though.
- What's that, sir?

It takes us two years
to train people like you.

Suppose your controls had been damaged?

What would have happened
to that idiotic victory roll of yours?

You'd have been spread all over
the damn field like strawberry jam.

Never again. Clear?

Yes, sir.

H.Q. FIGHTER COMMAND

- Hello, Bob.
- Something to make Stuffy's day.

The old man's just gone down
to the ops room with SASO.

Final figures of the northern raids.
Twenty-three without loss.

- Jolly good! Let's show it to him.
- Right.

We're getting six volunteer pilots
from Coastal Command

and from the Fleet Air Arm, sir.

Five from each
of the Fairey Battle Squadrons

and three from Army cooperation.

That's 30, is it? Not enough, Evill.
We lost that many yesterday.

And the Air Staff hesitate to weaken
the light bombers in case of invasion, sir.

We need pilots now.

What about the foreign squadrons
under training, sir?

Czechs? Poles?

Yes, I know your feelings
about the language difficulties...

They don't understand a word
that's said to them over the air.

They're a menace to themselves and us.

I'll try and cut some more corners
off the training program.

The pilots are doing well.

The enemy are losing
at the rate of two to one.

But then, he can afford to, can't he?

Never sends more than half his bombers
at one time.

We must find more pilots,

or lose.

Biggin, this is Ops B.
Check 501 back in readiness.

I think you ought to see this, sir.

Thank you.

Air-raid warning, Sector Three Red.

Rabbit Squadron.
Tallyho, tallyho, Red Section!

We'll take the rear starboard.
Yellow, you take the port.

Yellow One, wilco. Tallyho, Yellow.

And the lot of you,
keep your eyes open for their escort.

Rabbit Leader. Red Three.
Yellow-nosed bastards, six o"clock high.

Coming down, now!

Roger, Red Three. I see them.

Rabbits, break right and climb.

Behind you, Andy! On your tail!

Get out, Andy! Jump!

Don't any of you Jerries talk English?

Corporal!

Sir!

Where are you taking those vultures?

Officers to the mess,
NCOs to the guard room, sir.

Like hell you are. They're responsible
for all that. Get them to clear it up.

But what about the officers, sir?

Give them a bloody shovel.

Come on, get with it.

Skipper hates Jerries.

You'll hate me
if you don't get that gun repaired.

Then wrap up this little lot.

Only eight for the morning?
Gotta do better than that, Flight.

Well, five are write-offs. One has an
undercart gone and two are missing, sir.

Mr. Anthony and Sergeant Moore.

And these two are at 100-hour checks.

They've been at it for 48 hours solid, sir.
I know.

Where the hell have you been?

Learning to swim.

Do your best, Flight.

Right, sir.

Did you get one?

All I got was a bellyful
of English Channel.

When are you gonna learn?

I didn't know they were there.

Never fly straight and level for
more than 30 seconds in the combat area.

How many times have I told you?

Come on, I'll give you a lift.

I'd rather walk, sir.

"Cut out the 'sir."

Have you called your wife?

All right, boy. Get in.

- Here you are, sir.
- Thank you.

It's ridiculous.

We go up four or five times a day,

and every time we come down,
more potholes.

And then more potholes,
until we can't bloody well get in at all.

We'll get this place operational again.

You won't. Not until someone
decides to protect it while we're up.

And what flaming genius thought of
sending us to that dump of a flying club?

Don't blame me. Direct orders from Group.
Park himself. It's not a bad little field.

I've seen it. Damp tents and a nasty
little shack full of dead flies.

Well, at least
you won't have the Jerries visiting you.

I don't blame them.

How much longer, Ops?

The engine's overheating, and so am I.

We either stand down or blow up.
Which do you want?

Hostile One-Six.
Reconfirm, please.

We need some more yellow sevens, Flight.

Hostile Two-Nine, now 40 plus.
One-five.

Yes. Two-six and four-one
detailed to intercept.

Seven Squadron's airborne, sir.

Thank you. Let 12 Group know.

And make sure they know they're
protecting my airfields while they're up.

They have been told, sir.

Tell them again.

Pine Tree Leader, this is Turkey Control.

Vector 192.
I have some trade for you over Maidstone.

Turkey Control, Pine Tree Leader.

Roger, one-niner-zero.

Pine Tree, this is Turkey.

20-plus bandits at Angels two-zero
heading west.

Roger, Turkey Control.

Bandits to the left,
1,000 meters below.

I can see them. I'm breaking left.

My God! Fighters coming down! Now!

Pine Trees, break.

Break.

On your tail, Jamie.

Enemy aircraft approaching, sir.
Coming straight for us.

Heinkels, 20 plus.
About 8,000 feet. I'm taking cover.

Tin hats, everybody.

Hostile One-Six, 40 plus,
now at ten. Hostile Two-Three...

That should damn well
never have happened.

Where the hell is 12 Group?

They were requested, sir.

Well, they're nowhere in sight.

Find out what the devil
they think they're playing at.

They just fell on us!

They got my number two, and the C.O.!

You saw Canfield go down?

It blew up.

It just blew up.

- As bad as we thought, sir?
- Worse.

Kenley and Biggin are a shambles again,
and the rest are not much better.

God knows how many aircraft
we'll have in the morning.

All because 12 Group didn't do their stuff.

Leigh-Mallory and his so-called
"Big Wings"?

Might as well stay on the ground
for all the use they are.

We were up, sir,
trying to knock out the enemy en masse.

It takes time to assemble
40 or 50 aircraft at 15,000 feet.

It takes far too long.
By the time your "Big Wing" is up,

the enemy have hit their targets
and are on their way home.

All that matters is to shoot them down
in large numbers.

I'd rather destroy 50 after they've
hit their targets than 10 before.

Don't forget, the targets
are my airfields, Leigh-Mallory.

And you're not getting 50,
you're not even getting 10.

Gentlemen, you're missing
the essential truth.

We're short of 200 pilots.

Those we have are tired,
strained and all overdue for relief.

We're fighting for survival.

And losing.

We don't need a Big Wing, or a small wing.

We need pilots.

And a miracle.

Good night, gentlemen.

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

And now,
over to the Savoy Hotel, London,

for dance music until midnight

with Carroll Gibbons
and his Savoy Hotel Orpheans.

I must say, you look
a damn sight better out of uniform.

I hardly remember you out of yours.

And whose fault's that?

Oh, for God's sake, not again.

Look, damn it, my squadron's come south.
You just apply for that posting.

Colin, no!

All right, all right, agreed!
Taboo subject tonight!

The WAAFs!

You really think we're solemnly going
to get into these ridiculous garments?

Not at this stage, surely.

I'm shy.

Oh, Maggie, come on.

It's just...

I am shy.

Honestly.

I'll put out the light.

No, Colin. No, it's not just bed, it's us.

It's you

and me.

You and me.

We should have been
over target nine minutes ago.

The wind has veered.

So where are we?

Where is London?

Oh, well to the southwest.

Ditch bombs - and a course for home.

Colin?

I will put in for that posting.

Promise.

Christ, they're bombs!

They're bombing London!

- Kraut!
- It isn't funny. Cut it out.

They're close.

Colin, I promise.

I promise.

Attacks on London are forbidden.

You know the order
as well as I do, Major Brandt.

Attacks may only be made -

- on the personal order of the Fuehrer.

I regret, gentlemen, the matter
is now out of my hands.

By order of Reichsmarschall Goering -

- you are to report to Berlin.

Please follow me.

Don't they know there's a blackout?

You know what our friend Goering said:

"If ever a bomb falls on Berlin -"

"- you may call me MEIER."

You are to report
to Colonel Schroeder at 9.00 a.m.

This car will take you to your
quarters where you will remain.

"You may call me MEIER."

Last night bombs were dropped on Berlin.

So be it.

Two can play at that game.

If the R.A.F. drops
200... 300... 400 bombs -

- then in one night we shall drop
2,000... 3,000... 4,000 bombs!

If they attack our cities -

- then we will WIPE THEIRS OUT!

The hour will come
when one of us must crack.

And it will never be
National Socialist Germany!

Never!

The English are filled with curiosity.

They keep asking: Why doesn't he come?

Be patient.

We are coming.

WE ARE COMING!

PAS DE CALAIS
SEPTEMBER 7th. 1940.

Herr Reichsmarschall,
I welcome you in the name of...

It's all right, Kesselring.
Thank you. Thank you.

- Osterkamp. Everything all right?
- Yes, sir.

Then let's get to it.

Don't stand there like a lot of pigs!

Move or I'll make the lot of you
swim across the Channel!

In the ditch! Get off the road!

If we lose now -

- we deserve to have our arses kicked out!

Arrow to Rabbit Leader. Vector 160.

Bandits 100 plus. Angels one-five.

Bandits, 100 plus. Over.

Rabbit to Arrow. I can't see them.

But they must be there.

Well, come up and look for yourself, then.
Nothing. I repeat, nothing.

- Group, please.
- Yes, sir.

Yes, Hawkinge is still up.
And Six-Four...

Everything we've got,
and get them moving.

They've caught us this time.

They're turning northwest.
It looks like London.

It's London, all right. And we've got
everything up covering airfields.

Where is the Royal Air Force?

- Messerschmitts.
- Heinkels.

- Messerschmitts!
- No, they ain't. They're Heinkels.

Five seconds.

Bombs away.

The pressure's dropping again.

This is as far as I can get, lad.

Poor Charles!

Down at the end now. By that car.

- Hey. No, you don't.
- What do you mean?

There's a thousand-pounder down there,
and it's not gone off.

Now, if you're looking for somebody,
they're all down there at the church hall.

They got the Rose and Crown.

He'll have to drink at the Red Lion now,
won't he?

If they'll have him.

How bloody stupid can you get?

I spend half a leave
seeing you all safe in the country,

and you bring them back to all this.

I'm sorry.
It's just that we missed everyone...

You're all going back.

Dad, have you finished it? Have you got it?

Thank you.

There's a family trapped in Shore Street.

Can we have some more volunteers?

I'll be back, love.

Stop that bloody bell!

It came more from the back.

Not real Spitfires. They
couldn't land here.

You'll see in a minute.

Only officers fly Spitfires.
You're not a fighter pilot.

What about your top button?

Anybody can do that.

T5. What's that?

They're a training squadron, sir.
They're the Poles.

Get them out of it. Get them down.

Black Hawk Leader, vector 230
and return to base immediately. Over.

Black Hawk Leader.
Received and understood. Out.

Black Hawk Leader to A-Flight.

Turn to port and steer 230.

Stop that Polish chatter

and steer 230.

- Repeat, please.
- I say again, 230.

Repeat, please.

For crying out loud. Two...

- Repeat, please.
- Three-zero!

- Repeat, please.
- Repeat, please.

Now just shut up,
the lot of you, and follow me.

Unless you're blind as well as...

Oh, Gawd strewth!

Shut up! Silence, in Polish!

One, the RAF is not a flying circus.

Two, strict RT procedure
will be observed at all times.

And it is never, repeat, never to be used

for private Polish chitchat.

Finally,

and God alone knows why,

I've received the following signal.

"Congratulations. As of today
this squadron is operational."

Signed Keith Park,
Air Vice Marshal, AOC 11 Group.

I was wrong about the Poles.

We also have
the second Polish squadron, sir.

I thought you'd mention them.
All right, make them operational.

And the Canadians?

And the Czechs. We need them all.

- Looks like London again, sir.
- Yes.

And there's nothing we can do about it.

But if Goering should
concentrate on London by day,

it's another matter.

If it means he leaves my airfields alone,
I shan't complain.

Even a few days would give me the chance
to get back to full strength.

He'll have farther to come.

And to go back.
We'll have more time to intercept.

What's more important, Park,

his fighters have only fuel enough
for ten minutes over London.

His bombers will lose much of their
protection, and for the first time,

they'll all come within the range
of 12 Group.

Perhaps now, at last, we shall see what
Leigh-Mallory's "Big Wings" are made of.

"Turning on London
could be the Germans" biggest blunder.

Spider Leader,
this is Top Hat Control.

Bandits now 20 miles east of you,
heading southeast.

- Vector 120. Make Angels two-oh.
- Roger, Top Hat.

Foxtrot Leader,
this is Tango Control.

Foxtrot Leader. Pass your message.

I have some trade for you
building up over Gris-Nez.

Roger, Tango.

Spider Leader, Top Hat Control.
Your customers appear to be splitting up.

Main force heading for London
will be your target.

Vector 090.

Roger, Top Hat.

Bad Man Control,
climb to Angels one-nine.

Roger, Bad Man.

Thank you, Kenley.

This should give them
something to think about.

Starlight Control to Dog Tail.

Keep an eye out for a friendly wing
joining you on your port side.

Roger, Starlight.

I see them! I see them!
Bloody marvelous!

Foxtrot Leader, Tango Control.
Bandits now probably slightly below you.

Roger, Tango, I've got them.

Peewee Leader turning starboard now.

- Watch out for 109s above.
- Roger, Fairfield Leader. Going up now.

- Take the left-hand pair, Blue Leader.
- Roger.

Everybody else, keep tight.

- Swarms of the sods!
- Foxtrot Leader. Cut that out.

Everyone keep quiet.

Leave the flaming fighters.
It's the bloody bombers we want.

Ox, will you pipe down?

Ox, behind you!

Behind!

Good afternoon.

"Good afternoon" my arse!

You Boche bastard. Put your hands up.
Come on, put them up.

Cor blimey! Your mitts, mate. Your mitts.

Put them up there!
Go on, go on, get going.

Go on, march!
I'll give you "Good afternoon"! Go on...

Are you telling me
our losses are critical?

We're bombing day and night -

- pilots are tired.

Be specific!

The English have changed tactics.

How?

They are attacking in large numbers.

Our bombers lack close fighter protection.

The fighters are always there.

But not close enough?

You yourself were a fighter pilot -

- the fighter is a hunter.

Yes, I was a fighter pilot -

- not a coward!

There is no suggestion of cowardice.

I am making the suggestion.

From now on the fighters
will stay with the bombers.

And lose the advantage
of speed and surprise?

You will obey orders!

The invasion cannot begin
until we have cleared the skies.

Come, my friends -
I have chastised you enough.

I am here to help.

Anything you need?

Foehn? Falke?

Give me a squadron of Spitfires.

Two squadrons, left and above.

Everyone keep quiet.

Hold your positions.

Don't break - wait for my order.

We'll take the rear starboard.
Yellow, you take the port.

Roger.

Thanks awfully, old chap.

I have promised the Fuehrer
we will destroy the R.A.F.

The weather won't last forever.

We must FINISH IT!

That's an order.

- Hostile two-nine. Thirty plus.
- Here we are.

The miracle of the loaves.

We should have moved in here
before we were bombed.

Ah, Maggie.

I'd like you to meet
our new assistant controller.

Squadron Leader Tom Evans,

Section Officer Harvey.

- How do you do?
- Hello.

He knows your old man.

How is Colin? Haven't seen him since my
little escapade with a burning Hurricane.

Excuse me, ma'am. Ma'am?

There's a call for you.

- Will you excuse me just a minute?
- Yes.

- Thanks. Where is it?
- It's round the corner.

Hello?

- It's me.
- How on earth did you get through here?

Oh, put it down to rank. I said I was
an old battle-ax from the Air Ministry.

Colin! That was very clever.

Any news?

About?

Your posting, you silly idiot.

Well, you've applied?

I've been so busy here.
It's really not as simple as all that.

Now, look, why the hell not?

Well, to be absolutely honest, I forgot.
I know, darling, I'm sorry.

Look, Groupy's here now.
I'll go and talk to him right away.

All right?

Colin?

Colin.

Colin?

Get through all right, sir?

Yes.

Let me give you a piece of advice.

What's that, sir?

Stay single.

SEPTEMBER 15th. 1940.

Are you still with me, Dog Tail Red Two?

Affirmative, Red Leader.

Directly behind you
and on your starboard side.

What happened to Harvey?

He got a 109 then ran into trouble,
but he's all right.

No mistake. I saw him bail out.

Eyes right! Attention!

Right, stand at ease.

Corporal Seymour here will detail you
to your various watches.

I left out the bit about the wolf whistles.
You're better at that.

The erks have other things
on their minds nowadays, thank goodness.

Right! Front!

- Right. Neville?
- Corporal.

- Kennedy, T.
- Corporal.

- Philps.
- Corporal.

- Blackstone.
- Corporal.

Selkirk...

It's Colin?

He isn't dead, Maggie.
He's going to be all right.

They can do wonders nowadays,
you know, it's...

It's just a question of time, that's all.

We'll get you a posting
so you can be near him.

Is he badly burned?

You sent for me, sir?

Yes, Peter, I want you
to take over Red Section.

Who are my numbers two and three, sir?

They're a couple of new lads.
They're outside.

Get moving!

Right, then.

How many hours on Spits?

Ten, sir.

Seven, sir.

Stick to me like glue,
and keep your eyes open.

Hornchurch Control, put up 222 and 603
Squadrons to intercept Hostile Two-Six.

Winston would pick on a day like this
to come.

- It's landed and refueling.
- Have you any sightings of a raid?

Have you any more recent plots
on Hostile Three-One?

- Is everything up?
- The lot, sir.

- Reserves?
- None.

That's what I've just told
the Prime Minister.

Have confirmed
hostile Four-Two, moving north.

Request 611 and 151 Squadrons
to stand by.

Please confirm
Coltishall squadrons airborne.

Red Three, this is Red One.
Much closer, I can hardly see you.

Red Two, you must keep up with me.

Right, Red Section, here we go.

Stick to me like glue.

Red Three, behind you!

Come in, Blue Two.

Hey, kids, shut up, will you?

This is the BBC Home Service.

Here is the 9:00 news,
and this is Alvar Liddell reading it.

Up till 8:00 tonight,
165 German aircraft had been destroyed

in big-scale attacks
attempted by the enemy today

on London and the Southeast.

We lost 30 fighters,
with 10 of the pilots safe.

Buckingham Palace has been bombed
again, but no one was hurt.

Yes?

Yes, one moment.

It's the Air Minister,
sir, on the scrambler.

Yes?

Ah, Dowding.

Look, our people in Washington are having
trouble with the American press.

It's about today's figures.

German sources there are saying
that our claims are wildly exaggerated.

Hello? Are you there, Dowding?

I'm here, Minister.

Well, I mean, can you verify the figures?

I'm not very interested in propaganda.

If we're right, they'll give up.

If we're wrong,
they'll be in London in a week.

- Morning, Arnold.
- Morning, sir.

Morning, sir.

- Morning, Arnold.
- Morning, Flight.

Dispersal.

Right.

Tea's up.

- Good morning, sir.
- Morning.

They're late this morning, sir.

The bastards are up to something.

Quick march!

You have let me down!

You have betrayed me!