Bluestone 42 (2013–…): Season 1, Episode 5 - Episode #1.5 - full transcript
Nick is unimpressed by another team,the Road Hoggs,led by jocular sergeant Hogg,who believes in superstitious rituals for his survival though Nick himself is lost without his own good luck charms,his Fisherman's Friend sweets. When they disappear he is nervous about going on ops minus them but regains some confidence when Mary gives him her Mint Imperials - until the lieutenant-colonel admits that he has a mascot he cannot do without. Simontries to win Mac and Rocket's respect by joining in their dangerous,home-made games but does so well they take revenge on him whilst Bird thinks the team should have a name but is not happy with the lieutenant's solution.
Sir.
Sergeant Robert Hogg
from the search team, boss.
Bob Hogg.
Nick Medhurst.
So, you've already met Millsy.
This is Bird. There's Simon, Rocket
and Mac.
No offence, Sergeant, but where's
Corporal Spooner?
R&R. As are all the Desert
Spoons.
Desert Spoons!
Because "desert spoons"
sounds like "dessert spoons".
Yeah. Classic.
So, we're the Road Hoggs,
cos I'm called Hogg and we
clear the road. Heh.
At least, I hope we do. Heh.
On the road we've got Bogbrush and
the Tosser,
and at the front, we have Fortunate
Darren, and our point man, Sandbag.
Why's he called Fortunate Darren?
Cos he's not the point man!
Right. All done.
Good work, Road Hoggs!
Over to you.
Why don't we have a team name?
Hm? I think the main reason is
because...
we're not ten years old.
Oh, yeah!
The Bomb Guys.
Oh-oh! Oh! Bird's Bomb Guys.
No?
Aah! Bird's Bell-ends?
Do you want the suit, boss?
I would if I were you.
Nah. It's too hot.
Sh... Shit.
Er...guys? Guys! Guys!
Hogg! Hogg! Oi, Hogg! You're the
leader of the search team.
Come here. Help me look for my
Fisherman's Friend. It's my last
one. Sandbag!
Set Vallon to detect menthol!
Your lucky sweets, are they?
You ATOs always have
some superstitious ritual.
I'm not superstitious.
They just help me focus.
Oh, boss! Boss! I've got it.
Thank you, Millsy.
Tell you what.
The ATO in Bluestone 31
always has to touch his number two's
arse before he does the long walk.
What?
Nah. Think I'll stick to the
sweets.
God, my balls are hot.
I've got serious hot balls.
There's so much sweat,
you could catch it in a bucket.
It's the blast pants. Aye.
I mean, whit's the point in
protecting your balls against IEDs
if they're just gonnae melt
anyways? Mac.
If you don't shut up about
your balls...
..I'm going to come over there
and pull them off myself.
Pull off my balls? Gay.
Eyes on!
Oh, shit.
Oh, really shit. Millsy!
Angry bomb!
Everyone, eyes down! Take cover!
Boss!
Millsy, prepare to fire
the disruptor! OK, everybody!
Stand by! Fire it!
Firing! Boss.
Caught fire.
You OK, boss? Yeah.
Oh, God. Ooh!
Whew. Battery pack. Whoof!
That was a close call.
Oh! I thought this might happen.
Sorry?
Boss?
Just going to keep that as a
lovely surprise?
No, I...I didn't mean that...
Well, I've noticed a couple of
trends in the devices in the last
month.
Oh, and what is the
fashionable terrorist planting
this season,
according to Millsy? Look, I know
you've been keeping your own
records,
but I've been keeping some
too, and I've spotted a pattern.
Oh, and were you planning to share
this with me at any point?
Yeah, sure, I can show you
everything when we get back.
Good. No, wait. Is this going
to involve graphs?
Well, I mean, there are a few ways
to project the...
I...I could focus solely on the...
I...I could minimise the...
OK, no graphs. Good.
What about Bird's Brave Bastards?
Fuck off.
- Shit!
Bird, we already have a name.
Bluestone 42, our call sign. Yeah.
But, Bluestone, what even is
that?
Actually, the pillars of Stonehenge
are made from bluestone,
although "bluestone" means just any
foreign stone... Oh, yeah.
Thank you, Wankipedia.
How about something like...
Team Intrepid?
Fuck's sake. Intrepid?
Yeah, Simon, let's have a name
that makes us sound like
we're off Junior Apprentice.
Bird's Bitches!
No!
Here, who's up for a game of Extreme
Hockey Ultimate Extreme?
Gleaming! I'll get the
crowbars! Please, no.
Dry Water-Skiing? Cook-House
Splatterbang?
No! Aw, Skip.
You're as much fun as a turd
on a plate. Mm.
Eh, how about a game of Freckles?
Ooh!
There is a time and a place
for games, and it is not now.
Gay.
You never play our games, Skip.
Millsy wants to show us something.
If he's invented a ball-cooling
device, I'm in.
So, I've been keeping a log.
Put it in a bag and burn it,
like everybody else.
Simmer down. Millsy?
So, I've been keeping a record of
all the devices we've encountered
and I've broken them down
into two types.
I said no graphs.
It's a scatter diagram, boss.
So, the blue crosses are
bog-standard devices that are easy
to render safe.
Easy? Interesting. Do go on.
And, um...
Well, the red crosses
are what I like to call...
..a TDM.
Tedium? That's a good name.
It stands for "training didn't
matter". I beg your fucking pardon?
Well, I mean the fact that the
device didn't fully detonate
was down to, er...chance, rather
than our intervention or our
training.
Boss. Like the one this
morning.
The one this morning
was bog standard, Millsy.
The only reason it caught fire
was because the Taliban paid the
village idiot to put it in the
ground.
But, look, TDMs come in batches and
we're due another batch very soon.
No. No, we're not, Millsy. This
is all speculation. You know
what? It's bollocks.
What do we do
if we find something unusual?
We follow training and procedure.
So, if we do find one of your
tedious devices, what do we do,
Millsy?
We follow training and procedure,
boss. Brilliant. Thanks for that,
Millsy.
Insightful as ever.
Good meeting, everyone.
Bloody hell, what happened?
Can't find my sodding Fisherman's
Friends. I had a spare bag
somewhere.
Shit.
As you say...
shit.
Nick, have I done something
wrong with Rocket and Mac?
I don't know, Simon, have
you? Have you been touching
them while they sleep?
Why don't they respect me?
Ah, it's hard to know what to
choose. Let's pick one.
Mm, maybe because, I don't know, you
don't join in their games?
Their games are stupid, dangerous and
often quite unhygienic.
Which is why they're fun. So, if I
join in, they'll respect me?
Well, let's not get ahead of
ourselves, Simon. But it is a start.
Hi, Nick. Simon.
Rocket and Mac wanted to know if
anyone had five litres of bleach.
Some game called,
um...Camo Whiteout.
Right, I'd better, um...
So, what are you doing?
This place looks like a bomb's
hit...
Er...I mean... Er...sorry.
So, um, how are the team?
Anything I can do for you? Well...
Apart from that. Oh. You know, I'm
always happy to come out on ops.
Some of your guys might
appreciate a bit of,
um...spiritual top cover.
Well, you could do that from
here, couldn't you?
Or does your praying
have a maximum range?
Very funny. So, what are you
looking for?
I can't find my bloody Fisherman's
Friends.
I've got Mint Imperials.
I had no idea. Get off. What are
you doing?
You have the face and body of a much
younger woman, and yet, actually,
you're 96. What?
Mint Imperials are granny sweets.
Why, Grandma, what young, fresh skin
you have!
Good chat, Nick.
OK.
Ah, fuck! Ha-ha-ha! Yes!
Guys! Guys!
Shite, Skip, we're only playing
a wee game. Well,
as long as there's no bleach
involved, I'm in.
Really?
Yeah. Gleaming.
On your marks, get set...
Oh, hang on, hang on, hang
on! What are the rules?
Total Fencing Deluxe? Well, if I
remember rightly, Mac, it's ten
points for the head,
five points for the body, both hands
on the pole, first to 30, no kicking,
no biting, and no peeking.
Oh. Right, sir.
Well, how do you play it?
Carry on! Oh!
Play!
Yeah!
Ten points to Skip!
Come on! Come on!
Play!
Ten points to Skip. Come on!
And play!
Five points to Mac! Yaah!
Fuck!
The winner is Skip! Yes!
Yes!
Who's the daddy? Huh?
First game and I totally kick
your arse!
Aye, all right, Skip. Easy.
Right, we're off.
I just kicked Mac's arse
at Total Fencing Deluxe.
Which he invented.
Nice one.
Get this... Let's get this
packed up.
Oh! You fuck!
OK, and you're absolutely sure
they're not in your quarters?
Yeah, I looked, I looked. OK. Well,
could they be in the det?
I've checked everywhere, Millsy.
You ready? No. Wait.
Where's my last bag of Fisherman's
Friends? Have you hidden them again?
No.
No, no. Wasn't that the bag
you lost at poker?
Oh, shit sticks. I just assumed you
replaced them.
Boss, we really should be...
Yes, I know, Millsy!
OK, OK, er, run and tell Mary
that she can come with us.
Go on, chop-chop.
Bit of spiritual top cover, eh?
What? No.
Look, she asked to come,
so I'm letting her, OK?
You're not worried about all that
crap Millsy was spouting earlier,
are you?
Boss?
No. No, I'm fine. Right as rain.
The really right kind of rain.
The...right rain. Right? All right?
All right? All right, boss?
Right, come on, Bird's
Boneheads. Mm!
It's got a ring tae it.
Aye. So does my arse.
All done, just one device.
Although there is a big pile of goat
shit down there on the left.
We should check again.
No, it's definitely goat shit.
Confirmed that
with the Mark 1 eyeball. Ha-ha!
You heard him, Hogg. Check again.
Millsy, get the robot ready.
When these guys are finished, we'll
double-check with that. Boss.
Aye-aye! Feeling jumpy?
Let me guess, run out of Fisherman's
Friends?
Why are you still here, talking?
Well, we have
double-checked for...
You search until the ATO's
satisfied. Do I look satisfied to
you?
No, wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait. Wait. Let me make this
easier for you. OK? I'm the ATO.
See? ATO.
This face? Not satisfied!
Sir. Fortunate Darren! Sandbag! Here
we go round the mulberry bush.
And will you leave it out with
the fucking jokes when
there's IEDs around?
Someone might get killed.
You know, you, in fact, might
get killed by me!
Fuck's sake!
You know, I am sick
of your stupid grinning face
every time I get ready to go
down there!
Just do your fucking job, you
absolute waste of uniform and
training!
Sir.
Battery's low, boss. I want to be
certain what we're dealing with.
And we lose the A&A cordon
in an hour, so...
I should just check the...
thing.
Are you praying? Is that all right?
As long as you get Baby Jesus to
make my mum send me some chocolates.
I'm not sure it works like that.
I'm not sure it works at all.
Shit. Battery's gone.
Fuck it. Right.
I'd better get down there.
Got those Mint Imperials?
Yeah, sure.
Although they're not as strong
as Fisherman's Friends.
Unless you eat 20 of them.
Ooh!
Soot, Millsy!
Shoot? Er, shoot...shoot what,
boss?
Soot, Millsy!
Soot. Oh.
Suit. Suit.
When I'm tense, I just imagine giving
my mum a wee cuddle.
Aye. When I'm tense, I imagine
giving your mum a wee cuddle.
Away tae fuck!
Guess what, Millsy?
Straightforward VOIED.
No secondaries.
Bog standard.
So boggy, you could stride across
it, admiring the heather,
whilst a team of jolly Irish
labourers cut peat from a...
Yeah, I'm getting bored of this
metaphor.
Would you like me to fire
the disruptor, boss?
No, Millsy, cos I did it with my
snips.
And without...my Fisherman's
Friends.
I snipped the shit out of it.
That device will no longer be
fathering other smaller devices,
because of my really expert
snipping.
So much for your doom-laden
horse shit.
I didn't say
it would definitely be today,
OK?
So, I might die tomorrow?
Thank you very much, Millsy.
No, look, that's not
what I meant, boss. I...
Boss?
Um...
how many Mint Imperials did
you have?
I just need to know so I can pack
them for next time.
If we had a lucky mascot,
we could be named after that!
We've got one! Andy McNab!
No! No, no, no!
Andy McNab is the name of
Mac's cock!
Why? Because it's been
out of action for years?
Fucking hell, Padre! Serious! Not
cool! That's way out of order!
Maybe we could be called...
No!
That's it! No more nicknames!
We're called Bluestone 42!
Or how about, "a bunch of noisy
cunts who won't fucking shut up"?
No?
Good.
We've really got to get hold
of some Fishermen's Friends.
He's done one device without.
He'll be fine.
No, no, no, no. He's in a
period of high stress, when he
really shouldn't be.
What, you keep graphs
on his mood swings as well?
You are kidding me?
Right now he's up here,
very stressed, when he should be
here, relaxed.
You're insane.
Or very sane. No.
Now, I think we can track
down the bag he lost at poker.
Oh, give me strength.
Nick lost the whole bag to
Captain Softly. Captain Softly then
lost... I tell you what.
You cream yourself over your
graph. I'll just get on the
phone and ask for some.
It's a flow chart, actually.
Knock, knock? Hi.
Yeah, a...a special
"tidying up" bomb hit it.
Right. Um... CO's just flown
back in.
He wants a chat.
OK.
Nick.
Is everything all right?
Yeah, I think so. Why?
Cos since you ran out of your special
sweets, you've been acting like a
massive bell-end.
Might want to work on your bedside
manner there, Padre.
Right, it's totally understandable
that you're a little bit
superstitious.
I'm not superstitious, OK?
We had intelligence suggesting that
the next bomb could... Put that
down.
This is knackered. You
should bin it. No, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
This is the tin that I
had when I did my first bomb.
Basra, 2008.
And every bomb since.
Not that a little metal tin
could affect anything.
Yeah, well, it's not like
you're not superstitious, is it?
I mean, Jesus is basically
just your Fisherman's Friend.
Huh! He was the friend of
fishermen. Oh, shit, I really walked
into that one, didn't I?
Yeah, at least four of the
disciples were fishermen.
Yes, OK, I get it. Run along
now. Good luck with the CO.
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Whoo!
Guys! Guys!
Guys! What are you doing?
Just a wee game.
Aye. Fucking Bronco.
One of the grease monkeys said we
could borrow it for ten minutes.
No! I mean, I can't believe
you're playing without me.
Room for a small one?
It's best played wi' two. Aye.
I could referee.
No ref in Fucking Bronco.
Obviously.
Different game, then?
I think that ten minutes is up,
Rocket.
We should return the
vehicle as agreed. Aye.
There's a time and a place for
games, but that time is now
over.
And that place is now over.
Why won't they let me join
in? I don't know, Simon.
Is it because you repeatedly hit one
of your men round the head
with a big metal stick yesterday, or
for some other reason?
Look, if you beat them at their
own game, you're gonna look
like an arsehole.
So, I have to lose? Sure, if you
want to look like a pussy.
Look, just play for a bit, then
say you've got something
important to do, and leave.
Join in, step out. J-I-S-O. Jiso.
Join in, step out.
Actually, Jiso would be quite a good
nickname for you, Simon.
I'll stick with Simon.
Sure thing, Jiso.
Come. Ah, Captain Medhurst.
Sir, if this is about yesterday,
I know I overstepped...
Ah, yes. The "Hogg roast".
I presume you're going to apologise,
fulsomely?
First opportunity, sir. Good-oh.
Worth remembering that his
team's job is probably even
more dangerous than yours.
Have I ever introduced you
to Little Philip?
My niece gave it to me when I passed
out of Sandhurst.
I suppose she thought I was in the
Guards. Precocious child, but
well-meaning.
Now works for...Honda.
The point is, this little chap
has seen me through a
couple of scrapes in Bosnia,
Sierra Leone...
and a moment of questionable
legality in Cyprus.
Mm. Never told my unit about
him, of course.
Didn't want to shit them up
in case I lost him.
Just thought you'd be interested.
Carry on. Sir.
Ah, Faruq. Just the man. Look.
Can you get hold of some Fisherman's
Friends? You want Fisherman's
Friends! Shh-shh-shh.
I get you Fisherman's
Friends, very good price.
OK, if you can get them before the
next call-out, I'll give you 20
dollars.
For 20 dollars, you get lots
of Fisherman's Friends.
Bye-bye!
Of course they don't have an order
number. They're sweets.
Oh, forget it.
So, er...going to give up on
those sweets.
Don't need 'em no more.
Got your, er, lucky pants on?
All my pants are lucky.
Except with Mary.
Yeah, cheers for pointing that
out, Bird. You're a brick.
Oh! Bird's Bricks? No, it's
shit. Not again.
Bird, what is it with this team name
obsession?
Look, I was never
in the cool gang at school.
My dad was the physics
teacher, for a start.
But if we had a name... Bird.
We are the cool gang.
We're a counter-IED team.
When you get back to England, you're
going to be so cool, you're gonna be
bored of it.
That's going to make you even
cooler.
Cheers, Nick.
Ah. Look, guys, about yesterday. I
really want to apologise.
Bender.
Bender? That's good. Er...I got
carried away. So, rematch?
Something different? Aye, we'll
think of something.
Jiso.
Ah, morning, all.
How are things with Team
Diversity?
Er...Team what, now, sir?
Team Diversity. No?
Public school boy. Essex boy.
A black guy. A woman. A
Scot. A closet homosexual.
Oh, Mac, ya buftie!
My God, you're right.
I've been living a lie!
Come on, baby! I'll give you a
rocket!
Piss off!
In denial.
Very sad.
Sorry, sir.
Sir, with respect, um...
Team Diversity? I'm...
I'm not just a token bird.
Course not. Just remarking on the
changing face of the modern Army.
Carry on.
Guys, we're up. Transport's
on its way.
OK, er... OK. Just, er, give
me...give me two minutes.
Team Diversity? This is like Year
Eight all over again.
Captain Nick! I have
Fisherman's Friends!
Oh, thank fuck for that!
How did you get them so...?
Oh. The friends of fisherman, yes?
To help catch the fish.
We agreed 30 dollars. No, Faruq.
Fisherman's Friends are
a brand of sweet.
These are sweet, juicy.
Er...special price, 20 dollars.
No. Look, Faruq, just take
these back, OK?
Fisherman's Friends are...are small,
brown, menthol sweets. Strong.
Menthol, brown, strong.
OK. I make some calls. Yeah, well,
you've got about a minute before we
have to go, so...
What's going on?
Well, we've got a shout on.
You're going to come with us.
I'm just concerned I'll have to come
out every time now.
But who's going to be sat at the
base reading the Bible?
OK.
Road Hoggs about to hand
over to Team Diversity.
Yeah, we're not called that,
knob-face. Sandbag! We done?
That's two of your Earth
minutes. Heh.
Boss, I tracked down
your Fisherman's Friends.
Now, apparently, Lieutenant
Freeman has them, but he's
in Bastion now, so...
Millsy, thanks for going
to all that trouble, but it's OK.
I've gone cold turkey.
Oh. OK. Yeah. I don't need any
stupid... Captain Nick!
The Fisherman's Friends you
asked for! I mean...
I don't necessarily want...
Oh, for fuck's sake, boss.
Please, Nick, just have one.
We don't care.
Faruq, these appear to be
sun-dried rabbit droppings...
OK, ten dollars.
..soaked in...
..some kind of cough mixture.
For you, five dollars! Go on.
I am actually considering eating one
of these. What the fuck?
OK, right.
Good. Not playing this game
any more.
No more TDMs, no more spiritual top
cover, granny sweets,
no more lucky tins, Fisherman's
Friends, and definitely no more
rabbit shit.
We're done.
Let's do this. Right.
Do you want the suit, boss?
Nah, too hot. I'll be fine.
After all, it's just drills
and skills.
Shit! Charlie, Charlie 1,
this is Bluestone 42!
Contact IED. Wait out.
Bird! Cat B! Hello, Diamond 21,
this is Bluestone 42.
Contact IED. Partial detonation.
One cas, Cat B, ref Blue 1.
Sitrep to follow.
Diamond 21, acknowledge.
So, it was just the detonator
that functioned. Not the main
charge.
But why didn't the whole
thing go up? You see,
some of the devices are what
I call a TDM,
which stands for...
It didn't go up because...
because he's Fortunate Darren.
If he wasn't fortunate,
he'd be pink mist right now.
Good job he was wearing his blast
pants.
Aye.
Has anybody else got really
hot balls?
How is he? Yeah, he's fine.
Well, he's lost three toes
on his left foot, but...
They should call him Toto.
They already have.
Was Toto that dog in The
Wizard Of Oz?
Yeah. Why's he named after a dog?
Because...
Doesn't matter.
Oh, bollocks.
Jesus Christ! Who did that?
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha(!)
Classic.
Don't know what you're laughing at.
Road Hoggs is a shite name anyway.
Yeah, and as one of your
guys is now called Toto,
I hereby christen you
The Friends Of Dorothy.
That's not going to catch on.
I'm pretty sure it will.
Look, Hogg.
About yesterday.
I was totally out of order.
I owe you an apology.
So, sorry. All forgotten.
You ATOs all crack at some point.
You ought to try doing my job.
Sorry?
Well, we're the ones at the sharp
end. Still, mustn't grumble.
No.
Fisherman's Friend? Oh, thanks.
Have the whole tin.
Sorry to hear about Toto.
How's morale with the other
Friends Of Dorothy?
Oh, guys! So, are we
playing the game? Aye.
Aye.
We were thinking we should
try...Blind Man's...Muff.
Mm, sounds great! I'm in!
..98, 99,
100.
Blind man's muff!
OK, what now, guys?
Guys?
Guys? Guys?
William.
Mac!
Rocket!
Sergeant Robert Hogg
from the search team, boss.
Bob Hogg.
Nick Medhurst.
So, you've already met Millsy.
This is Bird. There's Simon, Rocket
and Mac.
No offence, Sergeant, but where's
Corporal Spooner?
R&R. As are all the Desert
Spoons.
Desert Spoons!
Because "desert spoons"
sounds like "dessert spoons".
Yeah. Classic.
So, we're the Road Hoggs,
cos I'm called Hogg and we
clear the road. Heh.
At least, I hope we do. Heh.
On the road we've got Bogbrush and
the Tosser,
and at the front, we have Fortunate
Darren, and our point man, Sandbag.
Why's he called Fortunate Darren?
Cos he's not the point man!
Right. All done.
Good work, Road Hoggs!
Over to you.
Why don't we have a team name?
Hm? I think the main reason is
because...
we're not ten years old.
Oh, yeah!
The Bomb Guys.
Oh-oh! Oh! Bird's Bomb Guys.
No?
Aah! Bird's Bell-ends?
Do you want the suit, boss?
I would if I were you.
Nah. It's too hot.
Sh... Shit.
Er...guys? Guys! Guys!
Hogg! Hogg! Oi, Hogg! You're the
leader of the search team.
Come here. Help me look for my
Fisherman's Friend. It's my last
one. Sandbag!
Set Vallon to detect menthol!
Your lucky sweets, are they?
You ATOs always have
some superstitious ritual.
I'm not superstitious.
They just help me focus.
Oh, boss! Boss! I've got it.
Thank you, Millsy.
Tell you what.
The ATO in Bluestone 31
always has to touch his number two's
arse before he does the long walk.
What?
Nah. Think I'll stick to the
sweets.
God, my balls are hot.
I've got serious hot balls.
There's so much sweat,
you could catch it in a bucket.
It's the blast pants. Aye.
I mean, whit's the point in
protecting your balls against IEDs
if they're just gonnae melt
anyways? Mac.
If you don't shut up about
your balls...
..I'm going to come over there
and pull them off myself.
Pull off my balls? Gay.
Eyes on!
Oh, shit.
Oh, really shit. Millsy!
Angry bomb!
Everyone, eyes down! Take cover!
Boss!
Millsy, prepare to fire
the disruptor! OK, everybody!
Stand by! Fire it!
Firing! Boss.
Caught fire.
You OK, boss? Yeah.
Oh, God. Ooh!
Whew. Battery pack. Whoof!
That was a close call.
Oh! I thought this might happen.
Sorry?
Boss?
Just going to keep that as a
lovely surprise?
No, I...I didn't mean that...
Well, I've noticed a couple of
trends in the devices in the last
month.
Oh, and what is the
fashionable terrorist planting
this season,
according to Millsy? Look, I know
you've been keeping your own
records,
but I've been keeping some
too, and I've spotted a pattern.
Oh, and were you planning to share
this with me at any point?
Yeah, sure, I can show you
everything when we get back.
Good. No, wait. Is this going
to involve graphs?
Well, I mean, there are a few ways
to project the...
I...I could focus solely on the...
I...I could minimise the...
OK, no graphs. Good.
What about Bird's Brave Bastards?
Fuck off.
- Shit!
Bird, we already have a name.
Bluestone 42, our call sign. Yeah.
But, Bluestone, what even is
that?
Actually, the pillars of Stonehenge
are made from bluestone,
although "bluestone" means just any
foreign stone... Oh, yeah.
Thank you, Wankipedia.
How about something like...
Team Intrepid?
Fuck's sake. Intrepid?
Yeah, Simon, let's have a name
that makes us sound like
we're off Junior Apprentice.
Bird's Bitches!
No!
Here, who's up for a game of Extreme
Hockey Ultimate Extreme?
Gleaming! I'll get the
crowbars! Please, no.
Dry Water-Skiing? Cook-House
Splatterbang?
No! Aw, Skip.
You're as much fun as a turd
on a plate. Mm.
Eh, how about a game of Freckles?
Ooh!
There is a time and a place
for games, and it is not now.
Gay.
You never play our games, Skip.
Millsy wants to show us something.
If he's invented a ball-cooling
device, I'm in.
So, I've been keeping a log.
Put it in a bag and burn it,
like everybody else.
Simmer down. Millsy?
So, I've been keeping a record of
all the devices we've encountered
and I've broken them down
into two types.
I said no graphs.
It's a scatter diagram, boss.
So, the blue crosses are
bog-standard devices that are easy
to render safe.
Easy? Interesting. Do go on.
And, um...
Well, the red crosses
are what I like to call...
..a TDM.
Tedium? That's a good name.
It stands for "training didn't
matter". I beg your fucking pardon?
Well, I mean the fact that the
device didn't fully detonate
was down to, er...chance, rather
than our intervention or our
training.
Boss. Like the one this
morning.
The one this morning
was bog standard, Millsy.
The only reason it caught fire
was because the Taliban paid the
village idiot to put it in the
ground.
But, look, TDMs come in batches and
we're due another batch very soon.
No. No, we're not, Millsy. This
is all speculation. You know
what? It's bollocks.
What do we do
if we find something unusual?
We follow training and procedure.
So, if we do find one of your
tedious devices, what do we do,
Millsy?
We follow training and procedure,
boss. Brilliant. Thanks for that,
Millsy.
Insightful as ever.
Good meeting, everyone.
Bloody hell, what happened?
Can't find my sodding Fisherman's
Friends. I had a spare bag
somewhere.
Shit.
As you say...
shit.
Nick, have I done something
wrong with Rocket and Mac?
I don't know, Simon, have
you? Have you been touching
them while they sleep?
Why don't they respect me?
Ah, it's hard to know what to
choose. Let's pick one.
Mm, maybe because, I don't know, you
don't join in their games?
Their games are stupid, dangerous and
often quite unhygienic.
Which is why they're fun. So, if I
join in, they'll respect me?
Well, let's not get ahead of
ourselves, Simon. But it is a start.
Hi, Nick. Simon.
Rocket and Mac wanted to know if
anyone had five litres of bleach.
Some game called,
um...Camo Whiteout.
Right, I'd better, um...
So, what are you doing?
This place looks like a bomb's
hit...
Er...I mean... Er...sorry.
So, um, how are the team?
Anything I can do for you? Well...
Apart from that. Oh. You know, I'm
always happy to come out on ops.
Some of your guys might
appreciate a bit of,
um...spiritual top cover.
Well, you could do that from
here, couldn't you?
Or does your praying
have a maximum range?
Very funny. So, what are you
looking for?
I can't find my bloody Fisherman's
Friends.
I've got Mint Imperials.
I had no idea. Get off. What are
you doing?
You have the face and body of a much
younger woman, and yet, actually,
you're 96. What?
Mint Imperials are granny sweets.
Why, Grandma, what young, fresh skin
you have!
Good chat, Nick.
OK.
Ah, fuck! Ha-ha-ha! Yes!
Guys! Guys!
Shite, Skip, we're only playing
a wee game. Well,
as long as there's no bleach
involved, I'm in.
Really?
Yeah. Gleaming.
On your marks, get set...
Oh, hang on, hang on, hang
on! What are the rules?
Total Fencing Deluxe? Well, if I
remember rightly, Mac, it's ten
points for the head,
five points for the body, both hands
on the pole, first to 30, no kicking,
no biting, and no peeking.
Oh. Right, sir.
Well, how do you play it?
Carry on! Oh!
Play!
Yeah!
Ten points to Skip!
Come on! Come on!
Play!
Ten points to Skip. Come on!
And play!
Five points to Mac! Yaah!
Fuck!
The winner is Skip! Yes!
Yes!
Who's the daddy? Huh?
First game and I totally kick
your arse!
Aye, all right, Skip. Easy.
Right, we're off.
I just kicked Mac's arse
at Total Fencing Deluxe.
Which he invented.
Nice one.
Get this... Let's get this
packed up.
Oh! You fuck!
OK, and you're absolutely sure
they're not in your quarters?
Yeah, I looked, I looked. OK. Well,
could they be in the det?
I've checked everywhere, Millsy.
You ready? No. Wait.
Where's my last bag of Fisherman's
Friends? Have you hidden them again?
No.
No, no. Wasn't that the bag
you lost at poker?
Oh, shit sticks. I just assumed you
replaced them.
Boss, we really should be...
Yes, I know, Millsy!
OK, OK, er, run and tell Mary
that she can come with us.
Go on, chop-chop.
Bit of spiritual top cover, eh?
What? No.
Look, she asked to come,
so I'm letting her, OK?
You're not worried about all that
crap Millsy was spouting earlier,
are you?
Boss?
No. No, I'm fine. Right as rain.
The really right kind of rain.
The...right rain. Right? All right?
All right? All right, boss?
Right, come on, Bird's
Boneheads. Mm!
It's got a ring tae it.
Aye. So does my arse.
All done, just one device.
Although there is a big pile of goat
shit down there on the left.
We should check again.
No, it's definitely goat shit.
Confirmed that
with the Mark 1 eyeball. Ha-ha!
You heard him, Hogg. Check again.
Millsy, get the robot ready.
When these guys are finished, we'll
double-check with that. Boss.
Aye-aye! Feeling jumpy?
Let me guess, run out of Fisherman's
Friends?
Why are you still here, talking?
Well, we have
double-checked for...
You search until the ATO's
satisfied. Do I look satisfied to
you?
No, wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait,
wait. Wait. Let me make this
easier for you. OK? I'm the ATO.
See? ATO.
This face? Not satisfied!
Sir. Fortunate Darren! Sandbag! Here
we go round the mulberry bush.
And will you leave it out with
the fucking jokes when
there's IEDs around?
Someone might get killed.
You know, you, in fact, might
get killed by me!
Fuck's sake!
You know, I am sick
of your stupid grinning face
every time I get ready to go
down there!
Just do your fucking job, you
absolute waste of uniform and
training!
Sir.
Battery's low, boss. I want to be
certain what we're dealing with.
And we lose the A&A cordon
in an hour, so...
I should just check the...
thing.
Are you praying? Is that all right?
As long as you get Baby Jesus to
make my mum send me some chocolates.
I'm not sure it works like that.
I'm not sure it works at all.
Shit. Battery's gone.
Fuck it. Right.
I'd better get down there.
Got those Mint Imperials?
Yeah, sure.
Although they're not as strong
as Fisherman's Friends.
Unless you eat 20 of them.
Ooh!
Soot, Millsy!
Shoot? Er, shoot...shoot what,
boss?
Soot, Millsy!
Soot. Oh.
Suit. Suit.
When I'm tense, I just imagine giving
my mum a wee cuddle.
Aye. When I'm tense, I imagine
giving your mum a wee cuddle.
Away tae fuck!
Guess what, Millsy?
Straightforward VOIED.
No secondaries.
Bog standard.
So boggy, you could stride across
it, admiring the heather,
whilst a team of jolly Irish
labourers cut peat from a...
Yeah, I'm getting bored of this
metaphor.
Would you like me to fire
the disruptor, boss?
No, Millsy, cos I did it with my
snips.
And without...my Fisherman's
Friends.
I snipped the shit out of it.
That device will no longer be
fathering other smaller devices,
because of my really expert
snipping.
So much for your doom-laden
horse shit.
I didn't say
it would definitely be today,
OK?
So, I might die tomorrow?
Thank you very much, Millsy.
No, look, that's not
what I meant, boss. I...
Boss?
Um...
how many Mint Imperials did
you have?
I just need to know so I can pack
them for next time.
If we had a lucky mascot,
we could be named after that!
We've got one! Andy McNab!
No! No, no, no!
Andy McNab is the name of
Mac's cock!
Why? Because it's been
out of action for years?
Fucking hell, Padre! Serious! Not
cool! That's way out of order!
Maybe we could be called...
No!
That's it! No more nicknames!
We're called Bluestone 42!
Or how about, "a bunch of noisy
cunts who won't fucking shut up"?
No?
Good.
We've really got to get hold
of some Fishermen's Friends.
He's done one device without.
He'll be fine.
No, no, no, no. He's in a
period of high stress, when he
really shouldn't be.
What, you keep graphs
on his mood swings as well?
You are kidding me?
Right now he's up here,
very stressed, when he should be
here, relaxed.
You're insane.
Or very sane. No.
Now, I think we can track
down the bag he lost at poker.
Oh, give me strength.
Nick lost the whole bag to
Captain Softly. Captain Softly then
lost... I tell you what.
You cream yourself over your
graph. I'll just get on the
phone and ask for some.
It's a flow chart, actually.
Knock, knock? Hi.
Yeah, a...a special
"tidying up" bomb hit it.
Right. Um... CO's just flown
back in.
He wants a chat.
OK.
Nick.
Is everything all right?
Yeah, I think so. Why?
Cos since you ran out of your special
sweets, you've been acting like a
massive bell-end.
Might want to work on your bedside
manner there, Padre.
Right, it's totally understandable
that you're a little bit
superstitious.
I'm not superstitious, OK?
We had intelligence suggesting that
the next bomb could... Put that
down.
This is knackered. You
should bin it. No, no.
No, no, no, no, no.
This is the tin that I
had when I did my first bomb.
Basra, 2008.
And every bomb since.
Not that a little metal tin
could affect anything.
Yeah, well, it's not like
you're not superstitious, is it?
I mean, Jesus is basically
just your Fisherman's Friend.
Huh! He was the friend of
fishermen. Oh, shit, I really walked
into that one, didn't I?
Yeah, at least four of the
disciples were fishermen.
Yes, OK, I get it. Run along
now. Good luck with the CO.
Whoa! Whoa, whoa, whoa.
Whoo!
Guys! Guys!
Guys! What are you doing?
Just a wee game.
Aye. Fucking Bronco.
One of the grease monkeys said we
could borrow it for ten minutes.
No! I mean, I can't believe
you're playing without me.
Room for a small one?
It's best played wi' two. Aye.
I could referee.
No ref in Fucking Bronco.
Obviously.
Different game, then?
I think that ten minutes is up,
Rocket.
We should return the
vehicle as agreed. Aye.
There's a time and a place for
games, but that time is now
over.
And that place is now over.
Why won't they let me join
in? I don't know, Simon.
Is it because you repeatedly hit one
of your men round the head
with a big metal stick yesterday, or
for some other reason?
Look, if you beat them at their
own game, you're gonna look
like an arsehole.
So, I have to lose? Sure, if you
want to look like a pussy.
Look, just play for a bit, then
say you've got something
important to do, and leave.
Join in, step out. J-I-S-O. Jiso.
Join in, step out.
Actually, Jiso would be quite a good
nickname for you, Simon.
I'll stick with Simon.
Sure thing, Jiso.
Come. Ah, Captain Medhurst.
Sir, if this is about yesterday,
I know I overstepped...
Ah, yes. The "Hogg roast".
I presume you're going to apologise,
fulsomely?
First opportunity, sir. Good-oh.
Worth remembering that his
team's job is probably even
more dangerous than yours.
Have I ever introduced you
to Little Philip?
My niece gave it to me when I passed
out of Sandhurst.
I suppose she thought I was in the
Guards. Precocious child, but
well-meaning.
Now works for...Honda.
The point is, this little chap
has seen me through a
couple of scrapes in Bosnia,
Sierra Leone...
and a moment of questionable
legality in Cyprus.
Mm. Never told my unit about
him, of course.
Didn't want to shit them up
in case I lost him.
Just thought you'd be interested.
Carry on. Sir.
Ah, Faruq. Just the man. Look.
Can you get hold of some Fisherman's
Friends? You want Fisherman's
Friends! Shh-shh-shh.
I get you Fisherman's
Friends, very good price.
OK, if you can get them before the
next call-out, I'll give you 20
dollars.
For 20 dollars, you get lots
of Fisherman's Friends.
Bye-bye!
Of course they don't have an order
number. They're sweets.
Oh, forget it.
So, er...going to give up on
those sweets.
Don't need 'em no more.
Got your, er, lucky pants on?
All my pants are lucky.
Except with Mary.
Yeah, cheers for pointing that
out, Bird. You're a brick.
Oh! Bird's Bricks? No, it's
shit. Not again.
Bird, what is it with this team name
obsession?
Look, I was never
in the cool gang at school.
My dad was the physics
teacher, for a start.
But if we had a name... Bird.
We are the cool gang.
We're a counter-IED team.
When you get back to England, you're
going to be so cool, you're gonna be
bored of it.
That's going to make you even
cooler.
Cheers, Nick.
Ah. Look, guys, about yesterday. I
really want to apologise.
Bender.
Bender? That's good. Er...I got
carried away. So, rematch?
Something different? Aye, we'll
think of something.
Jiso.
Ah, morning, all.
How are things with Team
Diversity?
Er...Team what, now, sir?
Team Diversity. No?
Public school boy. Essex boy.
A black guy. A woman. A
Scot. A closet homosexual.
Oh, Mac, ya buftie!
My God, you're right.
I've been living a lie!
Come on, baby! I'll give you a
rocket!
Piss off!
In denial.
Very sad.
Sorry, sir.
Sir, with respect, um...
Team Diversity? I'm...
I'm not just a token bird.
Course not. Just remarking on the
changing face of the modern Army.
Carry on.
Guys, we're up. Transport's
on its way.
OK, er... OK. Just, er, give
me...give me two minutes.
Team Diversity? This is like Year
Eight all over again.
Captain Nick! I have
Fisherman's Friends!
Oh, thank fuck for that!
How did you get them so...?
Oh. The friends of fisherman, yes?
To help catch the fish.
We agreed 30 dollars. No, Faruq.
Fisherman's Friends are
a brand of sweet.
These are sweet, juicy.
Er...special price, 20 dollars.
No. Look, Faruq, just take
these back, OK?
Fisherman's Friends are...are small,
brown, menthol sweets. Strong.
Menthol, brown, strong.
OK. I make some calls. Yeah, well,
you've got about a minute before we
have to go, so...
What's going on?
Well, we've got a shout on.
You're going to come with us.
I'm just concerned I'll have to come
out every time now.
But who's going to be sat at the
base reading the Bible?
OK.
Road Hoggs about to hand
over to Team Diversity.
Yeah, we're not called that,
knob-face. Sandbag! We done?
That's two of your Earth
minutes. Heh.
Boss, I tracked down
your Fisherman's Friends.
Now, apparently, Lieutenant
Freeman has them, but he's
in Bastion now, so...
Millsy, thanks for going
to all that trouble, but it's OK.
I've gone cold turkey.
Oh. OK. Yeah. I don't need any
stupid... Captain Nick!
The Fisherman's Friends you
asked for! I mean...
I don't necessarily want...
Oh, for fuck's sake, boss.
Please, Nick, just have one.
We don't care.
Faruq, these appear to be
sun-dried rabbit droppings...
OK, ten dollars.
..soaked in...
..some kind of cough mixture.
For you, five dollars! Go on.
I am actually considering eating one
of these. What the fuck?
OK, right.
Good. Not playing this game
any more.
No more TDMs, no more spiritual top
cover, granny sweets,
no more lucky tins, Fisherman's
Friends, and definitely no more
rabbit shit.
We're done.
Let's do this. Right.
Do you want the suit, boss?
Nah, too hot. I'll be fine.
After all, it's just drills
and skills.
Shit! Charlie, Charlie 1,
this is Bluestone 42!
Contact IED. Wait out.
Bird! Cat B! Hello, Diamond 21,
this is Bluestone 42.
Contact IED. Partial detonation.
One cas, Cat B, ref Blue 1.
Sitrep to follow.
Diamond 21, acknowledge.
So, it was just the detonator
that functioned. Not the main
charge.
But why didn't the whole
thing go up? You see,
some of the devices are what
I call a TDM,
which stands for...
It didn't go up because...
because he's Fortunate Darren.
If he wasn't fortunate,
he'd be pink mist right now.
Good job he was wearing his blast
pants.
Aye.
Has anybody else got really
hot balls?
How is he? Yeah, he's fine.
Well, he's lost three toes
on his left foot, but...
They should call him Toto.
They already have.
Was Toto that dog in The
Wizard Of Oz?
Yeah. Why's he named after a dog?
Because...
Doesn't matter.
Oh, bollocks.
Jesus Christ! Who did that?
Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha(!)
Classic.
Don't know what you're laughing at.
Road Hoggs is a shite name anyway.
Yeah, and as one of your
guys is now called Toto,
I hereby christen you
The Friends Of Dorothy.
That's not going to catch on.
I'm pretty sure it will.
Look, Hogg.
About yesterday.
I was totally out of order.
I owe you an apology.
So, sorry. All forgotten.
You ATOs all crack at some point.
You ought to try doing my job.
Sorry?
Well, we're the ones at the sharp
end. Still, mustn't grumble.
No.
Fisherman's Friend? Oh, thanks.
Have the whole tin.
Sorry to hear about Toto.
How's morale with the other
Friends Of Dorothy?
Oh, guys! So, are we
playing the game? Aye.
Aye.
We were thinking we should
try...Blind Man's...Muff.
Mm, sounds great! I'm in!
..98, 99,
100.
Blind man's muff!
OK, what now, guys?
Guys?
Guys? Guys?
William.
Mac!
Rocket!