Colditz (1972–1974): Season 2, Episode 3 - Odd Man In - full transcript

Poor bastards.

Those were two
one had rather assumed had made it.

Seven weeks.
- What do you think?

Two Frenchmen can't get home and dry
in seven weeks.

I wonder what went wrong.

What did you do in the war, Daddy?

Oh, my son.

Product of my late middle age,
if things go on the way they are.

I spent several weeks being pursued
through the rain

by infinitely more competent Germans,

and the next 20 years
digging little holes in a castle.



Seven weeks and still caught.

It'll be like a piece of Gruyere
this place,

by the time we've finished with it
-Ever seen a Gruyere?

The holes just reach the rind,
not outside.

Moles. That's what we should
model ourselves on.

Happy little fellows, tunnelling away.

They're blind.

They got those two Frenchies.
- Yes, we know.

The compliments of Captain Coty.

He wants a word with you. Privately.

Thanks.

Excuse me. I'll be back in a minute.

Hello there.
- Hello, Simon.

We are, in the French quarters,
a little, uh...



Disorganised.

As you probably have heard
our two escaped officers

have been recaptured.
- Yes, I was sorry to hear that.

They reached Le Tréport,

which is near Dieppe.
- Mmm-hmm.

They had intended to steal
a fishing boat and escape to England.

Yeah, well, they were jolly lucky
to get that far.

They are exceptional officers.

In Le Tréport, they were in a café

and the proprietor became suspicious.

Yeah? What did he do?
Hand them over to the Germans?

No, no.

He was himself a member
of a resistance group.

Oh.

He told them it was almost impossible
to take a boat

but he was able to introduce them
into a...

Hey! Watch it.

A system that would enable them

to be passed from one resistance group
to another,

all the way across France
to the Spanish Gulf.

They joined two British airmen,
and in only three days

they were at Saint-Girons.

This is a place about 10 kilometres
from the Spanish frontier.

They spent the day
in the house of an architect

before crossing into Spain that night,
when the Germans came.

They were recaptured
and the architect was shot.

So very near.
- I have no more details.

As you will realise,
they are now in solitary confinement.

But one of them needed medical treatment

and we were able to talk with him
for a few minutes.

Yeah, well, thank you for telling me.

You don't understand.

There is now a system

all the way across occupied Europe
to enable men to escape to Britain.

Hold on.

Here.

Uh, do you mind?

Thanks awfully.

They went through nine different areas
in only three days,

in perfect safety.

It was only in, uh, in one area
where one man had broken,

that the system broke down.

He said that literally hundreds of RAF
men have been passed safely into Spain.

I see.

All we need is one address.

Holland. Belgium.

France or Luxembourg.
- One.

After that the resistance groups
will guard our men.

It's a thought, isn't it?

Of course, this advice
must never be given

except to a man who is escaping
at the last minute.

Before that, no one but
the escape officer should know it.

No one.

Yeah, but how do we get the address?
- I don't know.

All I know is that you have contact
with England.

And it is in England
that there are people

who organise these resistance groups.

Who know where it is safe
and where it isn't.

Who know literally from day to day
what is happening.

You must never believe that we Catholics
worship the Blessed Virgin.

It is only through a representation
of the Virgin...

But you must come to mass more often.

I'm sure our priest would be happy
to instruct you in the faith.

Anything I say, I don't want
you to discuss with anybody, okay?

Obviously.

Can you think of any way
that we can get in touch

with your chaps
at British Intelligence in London?

Well, offhand, no.

We have no transmitter as you know,
and even if we had,

I have no idea what frequencies
are being used now,

let alone what codes.

And the Jerries would be bound to
pick it up before London did.

And pigeons, well,
they can't fly that far.

Wouldn't know where to go.

In here they'd
be more use casseroled.

I'm serious.

Well, we could always get someone out
and tell him to contact Dai in London.

Brent and Turner are going out
later this week, but...

Then I presume you're more
interested in regular contact?

Yeah.
- Why?

You tell me how to do it,
I'll tell you why.

Well, there is only one way open.
Letters home.

Yeah, but the Germans read those.

Well, I'm not a code expert.
I'm only an ordinary G3I.

But I've run into chaps
who do know about codes.

And the main problem
is not devising a code,

but persuading anybody at the other end
it is a code.

Who could we write to
who might be bright enough

to realise what's happening?

My dear old mother.

I'm afraid if she got any message

other than that
I was well and hoped she was, too,

she'd be so confused,
I doubt if she'd recover.

We need someone with the sort of mind
to spot an oddity,

and the brains to take it
to an expert to sort...

Cathy.
- Cathy?

My wife.

Well, she does crosswords
and all that sort of thing.

She's embarrassingly brilliant at it.
Well, she'd be perfect.

You tell me.
If she's got to be made suspicious,

she's got to realise
we're trying to say something.

Do you have a private language?
You know.

We were hardly together long enough
to have a private anything.

We have a rudimentary code going.

There's the honeymoon.
- What about it?

Well, we spent our wedding night in the
waiting room at Swindon Railway Station

surrounded by troops.

No, "honeymoon" is a word that we have
to mean something really awful.

Well, we can always try it.

Now,
if you'll give me permission,

I'd like to get back to bed.

Apart from the fact I'm freezing,
a fresh mind in the morning...

Yes?

You did say you normally sign
your postcards just, "S".

That's right.
- Good.

You'll sign this one "Simon".

We write down the alphabet

and underneath each letter
we write down another alphabet.

Except that we write S-1-M-Q-N,
under A-B-C-D-E.

Ah.
- Then we carry on as usual,

only leaving out the letters of Simon

as we come to them. Okay?
- Yeah, so far.

Now, there are five letters in Simon.

So we write our message in such a way
that every fifth letter is the code...

She'll never be able to work that out.
- It's a very simple code.

The main problem is,
will anybody realise it's a code at all?

But if we mention your honeymoon

and change the way you sign it...
- Yeah.

We'll just have to hope
your wife realises you're being crafty

and haven't simply gone off your head.

Right, off you trot. I have
a lot of message to play with yet.

I hope it works.

Mafeking has been relieved.
- What?

I want to see someone, please.

Where's your pass?
- I haven't got a pass.

I know that.
I know everyone who has passes.

Well, then how do I get to see anyone?
- Fill this in.

Do sit down. The chairs
are terribly uncomfortable, I'm afraid.

Now, Miss...
- Mrs Carter.

Mrs Carter, my name is Palmer.

Don't worry about Cooper on the door.

We rely on him rather than a battalion
of infantry to keep away invaders.

I realise.

From your husband?
- Yes, he is in Oflag 4C.

Hmm, Colditz. You assume there's some
sort of message hidden here.

Yes, how did you know that?
- I doubt if you'd had bothered to argue

with Cooper if this was
just an ordinary postcard.

Could you ask Colonel Mansell if he can
spare a moment? Thank you.

You've had a lot of postcards?
- Yes, it's been a long time.

And this is the first one
that seemed curious?

Yes.
- Tell me why.

Well, it's so formal and he signed it
"Simon" instead of just "S",

and the bit about our honeymoon.
- Yes, he hopes to have another like it.

It's our word for something disastrous.
- I see.

Ah, sir, Mrs Carter received this
from her husband in Colditz.

She thinks it may contain a message.

Your husband a mathematician?
- No.

I assumed not or I would know him.

We could try sending it
to Bletchley, sir.

Uh, no. No, no. No.

Ah, Mrs Carter,

I don't want to be offensive.
Your husband, is there any reason

why he should suppose you could
break a code?

No, not really.

No? Quite mad, most of us.

But, he might on the other hand
think that you could recognise a puzzle.

Well, I always do The Times crossword
and he never could.

And how long does it take you?
- Oh, it varies.

Ten minutes, quarter of an hour.

Oh! I must make it more difficult.

Well, I'll have a ponder.
- Thank you, sir.

Thank you very much,
you've been very helpful.

You don't mind if we hang onto this?
- Of course not.

And any other, of course.

Not really our department.
We are counter intelligence, MI5.

You really want the other people, MI6,

but we, uh, hang together and try to
help one another up over the wall,

one thing or the other, you know?

Now, if you could fill me in with
a little background about your husband.

Of course, but I don't see why...

It's just that if there is
a coded message in that postcard,

I imagine he'll be expecting
a reply from you.

It will help if we have some idea
of how best to approach your husband

if we're going to write your letters
for you in future.

ULMANN.
- Scramble.

Another guest for you, gentleman.
- Hello, I'm Dick Player.

Tim Downing.
- How do you do?

Larry Page.

Where do you come from?
- Birmingham.

No, I mean to get sent here.
- Oh.

Oflag 14B.
- 14B?

Is this bunk taken?

Uh,
the bottom one there is free.

Tired?
- Very.

Mrs Carter. How kind of you to come back
at such short notice.

It's not every day I have a staff car
sent to collect me.

Excuse me. Yes?

Yes, of course, sir.
I won't be a minute.

Oh, Mrs Carter.
Just one or two questions.

Of course.

This business of the honeymoon.
- Yes?

How many people know what that means?

It's our phrase, Simon's and mine.
- It isn't quite what I had asked.

Who else knows?
- Nobody.

You've never joked about it
with a girlfriend?

Well, yes, I suppose so but...

Then it's, uh, possible that
your husband joked about it, too.

He wouldn't. Anyway, there's no reason
why he should have done.

But you said yourself
that he wasn't an expert at codes.

So whoever coded the postcard
must have known.

You see, this postcard could have been
sent by the Germans.

Next you will be saying
Simon is a German spy.

No.
- Or do you think I am?

We have checked.
- Then I don't see what your problem is.

You were quite right.

There is a coded message in
that postcard. It asks for information.

That information would be very useful
to your husband.

It would be even more useful
to the Germans.

It's just that if we do reply,

we want to make quite sure that
the information reaches the right hands.

If your husband even once joked
about your honeymoon in front of someone

who was working for the Germans,

then that postcard could have been
sent without his ever knowing about it.

But it's in his handwriting.
- Oh, but Mrs Carter,

forgery is no longer a penal offence
in our circles.

You see, the Germans don't only
read outgoing mail from POW camps,

they read incoming mail as well.

It's just that we'd be happier
if we made absolutely sure

we're doing the wise thing, so if
you'd be good enough to write a letter,

make it chatty, you know, like the one
you're going to write anyway.

Then we can play around with it and...

You can write it out again
on your own writing paper.

You do understand?

Yes.

If you would be good enough
to write a draft.

Now.

What the hell does he think he's doing?

Oh, we've got a tough one here.

248-719, Pilot Officer Page.

Tell Jimmy Walker
to have a word with him.

Aye.
- He needs straightening out.

Indeed.

And you better tell Jimmy to tell him
if he wants to get out of here

he's got to take his place in the queue.

Bombs away.

It works. As long as they never check on
identities or nationalities, just heads.

Twenty-two heads go out with 44 legs
and the same number come back in.

It's foolproof, Simon.
We can use it as often as we like.

And the shed?

The gardener left the door open
as always.

Good.

As long as our two dwarfs stay here,
we can go on getting people out

for as long as we like.

Well, there's not much chance
they're going to be posted.

Hi. I saw you last night
but we haven't met.

My name's Jimmy Walker.

Afraid the percentage of RAF in here
is increasing all the time.

Tell me, what did you do to get here?
- I wanted a continental holiday.

No, I mean
where did you escape from?

148.

Oh, how'd you get out?
- Over the wire.

Over the wire?
- Over it. Round it. Through it.

How long were you out?
- Not long.

And they sent you here.
- It would seem so.

It is just that normally you seem
to have to have a bit of a reputation

before you get a ticket for this place.

Well, I didn't say
it was the first time, did 1?

Stand by your beds.
Letters from your loved ones at home.

Willy. Don't worry
if you've already shared them

with your friendly German censor, Dick.

George?
- Yeah.

Tim. Jimmy.

Harry.
- Anything for me?

I'm sorry, Simon. And one for me!

Hey, listen to this.

"We have turned the tennis courts
into a vegetable garden.

"It's part of a campaign by the
government called 'Dig for Victory'.

What an interesting idea.

Anything wrong?

Nothing serious.
- Then what is it?

Just that my mother's been moved
into a home.

What sort of a home?

A charity for the widows
of indigent gentlefolk.

Oh, I'm sorry.
- It's probably all for the best.

She found the house too much for her
even before the war.

And she could never get used to the idea
of having to take in lodgers.

If only I was there to help.
- Yeah, I know.

What the hell do you mean you know?
You've got a wife, parents!

Everything waiting for you
when you get home.

Sorry.

It's just that if ever I get out of here
the best I can hope for is a job

as a schoolmaster trying to scrape
enough money together to buy a car

to take her out at weekends.

Come in, whoever you are.

If I could have a word with you.
- Yeah, of course, um...

Come over here, all right?
- Hello.

Uh, do you mind?

Here, sit down.

There are two matters
I should like to discuss.

The first is the business I mentioned.
- Yeah, it's been put in hand.

Ah.

The other matter is just a warning.

Your plan to give piggyback rides...
- Yes?

I believe it depends
on the gardener's hut.

As you know, part of our quarters
overlooks that hut.

I have to tell you that today
the door was never opened.

Why?

I managed to have a word
with one of the civilian staff.

The gardener was taken ill last night.
I was told it was, uh...

Comment dîtes-vous? Appendicite.
- Appendicitis.

Well, if the hut's locked,
the whole thing won't work.

We've only got five seconds.

We can't start picking locks.
- I understand.

Well, Brent and Turner
will just have to wait.

I never thought I should wish
a sick German a speedy recovery

but for your sake...
- Yeah, thanks.

Damn.

That business of the gardener's hut
is off for the moment.

Why?
- I'll tell you later.

There's another thing.

What?
- The new prisoner...

Page?

He said he'd been in Oflag 148.

When I asked him how he got out
he said, "Over the wire."

I said, "Over?" He said, "Through."

14B is that old prison at Mainz.
It has walls, not wire.

You sure?

I checked this afternoon with a Pole
who had said he'd been there.

Well, maybe they put the wire up
since then.

It's one of the places the Germans
kept their most dangerous prisoners.

The Pole swore he was the only man
who had ever got out.

Yeah, well, I put that business
of rappel down to bloody mindedness.

Maybe I was wrong. Talk to him again.
Make him talk.

Find out what he was doing
before he came here.

Well, how you finding Colditz?
- Like a prison.

Change from the RAF, though.
- Mmm-hmm.

What squadron were you with?
- Official secret.

Oh! What did you fly?
- Lancs.

Good planes. What happened?

I was minding my own business
and somebody interfered.

Well, I mean how?

Does it matter?
- What did you do?

I resigned myself to appearing
in the 77 Memoriam section of The Times.

Uh, how did you get out?

I opened a little window and then
I stepped out into the night.

Now, have you got
any more stupid questions?

Your parachute?
- Yes.

Well, fortunately,
I remembered to take that with me.

I was wearing it and sitting on it
at the time.

I thought in Lancs you...

Hmm. And you must tell me the story
of your life sometime.

Preferably after the war.

I don't think he's in the RAF at all.
I think he's a plant.

Why?
- All sorts of things.

He said he was sitting on his parachute

while he was flying.
- Well, I used to sit on mine.

Yes, but this was in a Lancaster.
They have observer chutes.

All right, leave it with me.

Private Officer Page,
do you understand your position?

Yes... sir.

Now, you say you are an officer
in the RAF.

Other Air Force officers here
suspect that you are not.

Now that leaves me
with three possibilities.

The first is that I hold an enquiry

to which Air Force officers
will be invited,

you'll be asked questions which
Flight Lieutenant Carter assures me

will prove whether you are what you say
you are or not.

That will be details
about your training,

people you must have met,
and the aircraft you flew.

Do you understand?
- Yes.

Are you willing to undergo
such an inquiry?

No.

The second possibility is that you go to
the German Security Officer,

tell him no one believes your story
and ask for an assignment elsewhere.

Well?
- No.

Well, the last possibility is that I
myself go to the Kommandant of this camp

and ask that you be removed
because I cannot guarantee your safety.

If I tell you the truth,

can I be sure that nobody
outside this room,

and I don't just mean the Germans,
I mean the other prisoners,

nobody will ever know?

That depends what the truth is.

No, I'm not an RAF Officer
and my name isn't Page.

What is your name?
- That I'm not telling you.

Why not?

Because I'm not in any service
as you understand the word.

And I'm not protected
by the Geneva Convention,

or anything else for that matter.

Then what are you doing here?

I was being flown into France
and the Germans knew about it.

What kind of aircraft?
- Lysander.

Go on.

Well, we were coming in.

There were the usual torch signals
from the ground,

but they weren't quite right.
Nearly, but not quite.

Anyway, the pilot said that he could
get down, drop me,

pick up the chap I was replacing
all in about a minute.

I was fool enough to compromise
and let him go down.

Not to land, just to fly over
and see what we could see.

What happened?
- Well, what I expected.

The moment the Germans realised
we weren't going to land,

they opened up with everything they had.

We crash-landed about three miles
away from our rendezvous.

Pilot was killed. Neck broken.

What was his name?
- Lawrence Page.

I took his identity tags
and I took his uniform.

Well, I was wearing civilian clothes

and I had just as long
as it took the Germans to get there.

I obviously didn't want to be found by a
crashed plane wearing civilian clothes.

And you put your clothes
on the dead pilot.

Mmm-hmm and set fire to the lot
with a Very pistol.

What was the pilot's squadron?
- I have no idea.

We're not encouraged to know unnecessary
facts about each other.

And what happened to his observer?
- Stop trying to be clever.

Lysanders only carry two.

What was going to be your job in France?

Setting up resistance groups,

keeping an eye on them
when they are set up,

replacing them when they're wiped out.

You know, there is one thing
you haven't explained.

Yes?

Why were you sent here to Colditz?
- I have no idea.

You'd have to ask Pilot Officer Page.

There was a certain irony
about the interrogation.

The Germans knew more about me
than I did.

Who interrogated you?
- The Gendarmerie.

If you can't fool them,

you really shouldn't be allowed out
without your nanny.

Well?

It's possible...
- It's the truth.

Maybe, but it would
have to be corroborated.

In this place?

No, I quite realise that
that is not possible.

Simon?

If we could find a way of getting
a message to London,

is there some way we could check?

There isn't any alternative.

If you knew who to ask,

just say, "toothbrush".

Toothbrush?

I got a letter
from my wife today.

Anything interesting?
- No, the usual.

Everybody's fine.
Uncle Harry sends his best.

But I don't have an Uncle Harry.

I told you she could do it.

Oh.

Even if it's the same principal,
it's been done by an expert,

and I'm no expert.

We have to know the pattern.

We have to know where to start.
- Wait a minute.

She's put 79...
We don't live at 79, we live at 12.

Now, suppose we start
with the seventh word...

Pencil.

Then the ninth character.

Then, if that doesn't work,
we'll try the seventh character,

then every ninth, and we can reverse it.

This may take a little time.

Yeah, the war could be over.

I enjoy this sort of thing.

Right. Off you go.

And if I can make anything out of it,
I'll bring it along.

Two, three, four...
- No, I don't mind staying.

Just that I don't like people breathing
down my neck while I'm working.

I've finished.

Huh?
- I've finished.

Oh!

"Give nickname. Your old headmaster."

How nice to see you. Do come in.
Would you wait, Corporal?

Sir.

This morning I received
another card from my husband.

Yes. This one.

Don't worry. You have the original.

We only have photocopies.
- I didn't realise.

Well, look at it this way,
if the Germans can read it,

and of course they do,
it isn't really fair if we don't,

is it?

Come.

Oh, Mrs Carter, your husband,

oh, he gave us a rare old dance
with his postcard.

How long have you had his postcard?

Oh, two or three days.
- Just long enough to do our job.

The nickname of
his erstwhile headmaster.

Stuffy.
- Stuffy?

That was the name he told you.

That was the name the headmaster
liked to think that he was called.

But in fact, the name that
your husband gave was

a little bit more ribald.

The headmaster denied it,
vehemently of course.

But as he is now a captain
in the Home Guard,

I was able to put on uniform
and rank him.

And all's well that ends.

And on the promise that
we wouldn't divulge the name,

he did confess that
in the distant past...

Well, it's very kind of you
to come and see us,

but don't put yourself out in future.

We'll let you know if we need you.
Goodbye, Mrs Carter.

Toothbrush.
- Yes?

I got on to the other department.
Obviously, he did a switch.

And if he's in Colditz,
they'd like him back.

They'd like their toothbrush back
very much indeed.

Can't we get rid of this bastard?
- Not yet.

We were going to hold an inquiry...
- I said, not yet!

So the moment the gardener gets back,
we're ready to go, eh?

I decide what we do... and when.

Well, we may not be going to hold
an enquiry, but I am.

Look here, Simon said leave it...
- Damn what Simon said!

I want to ask you some questions.
- Make an appointment with my secretary.

Where did you do your basic training?
- On a potty.

I'm serious.
- No, you're not.

You're pathetic and tedious and boring.

And nobody would ever
take you seriously.

You answer my...

Well, he attacked Page
and Page attacked him.

Get him to the MO.

I can't see!

The report on the British prisoner
in hospital, sir.

The one who fell down
a flight of stairs?

His eyes are badly gouged, sir.

I don't think we need interest ourselves
in fights between prisoners.

I'm interested in any man who does that
to one of his colleagues, sir.

If you insist.

Thank you, sir.

Got a light?

The report from the hospital.

I thought you might be interested
in knowing what has happened

to your friend Flying Officer walker.

You'll be glad to know that he will not
be permanently blind.

He will be scarred for life,

but the doctor tells me
he will recover his sight.

How did it happen?

I'm talking to you.

I've asked you a question.

I'm afraid I was responsible.

Yes.

We were playing cards,

we had an argument
about the number of aces in a pack.

In the RAF it is customarily to so
injure a man over a game of cards?

Well, it's... It's not he first time
that Flying Officer Walker

has been accused of cheating.

I will leave this with you, Mr Player.

Yes?

I suppose you think
I ought to thank you.

No.

I said that because I dislike him
more than I dislike you.

Simon.

It says, "Expedite toothbrush

"soonest. Orange."

"Orange"?
- Whatever that means.

I've gone over it God knows how
many times, but it still says that.

Yes.

Does it mean anything to you?
- Yeah, enough.

What?
- You're not going.

Not this time.
This time it has to be Page.

Page?
- Simon, have you gone out of your mind?

Sir, George and I volunteered to go...

I can't tell you anything else,
but this time it has to be Page.

But Page has been here
a couple of weeks...

Page is going with Harry.

It'll be better for all of us
in the long run.

All of us?

Right.

He's waiting outside.
You can tell him to come in.

We have an escape plan that has
a very good chance of success.

You'll be going out in a few days
with Harry.

I'll take my turn in the queue.
- No, you won't.

As escape officer,
you'll do as I tell you.

So, you've lined it all up, have you?
- Yes.

You'll be carrying
one of the French prisoners

piggyback on the way
to the exercise yard.

He'll be hidden under your great coat.

We've rehearsed it
quite a number of times and it works.

Now, the Germans count numbers here,
before you go through the main gate.

There'll be 30 prisoners
going on exercise

plus the two that you and Harry
will be carrying.

The gardeners hut is here.
The door will be open.

Harry will slip inside.

As soon as you've dropped your man,
you join him.

You wait there until everybody else
is marked back.

As far as the Germans are concerned,

it's the same number coming back
as went out.

Any questions?
- How could anyone question such a plan?

Well, Harry will fill you in
on the details.

How to get over the wire
and what you do once you're over it.

Tell me something, does the word
"Orange" mean anything to you?

It's a fruit.

Nothing else?
- Well, are you asking me or telling me?

Yes, I know what it means.

What does it mean?
- It's a man. Contact.

You can get our chaps to England?
- Isuppose so, amongst other things.

Yeah, well, you and Harry can use him.
- Not a chance.

I'm not risking his life by loosing
an idiot like Harry on him.

All right, you use him.
Harry can go the way we've planned.

By the way, what nationality
is Orange anyway?

You really are dangerously naive,
aren't you?

You expect me to tell you that?

When you get to London, I've got a lot
of information I want you to pass on...

Oh, I'm sure you have. Tell me,
how did you find out about Orange?

You really are dangerously naive,
aren't you?

You expect me to tell you that?

You're learning.

Ah, Simon, you'll be pleased to hear
that our mutual friend, the gardener,

has completely recovered
from his operation.

Oh, good.
- Yes, indeed.

We saw him today back at work.

Doing the same job?
- Oh, same everything.

Like the Bourbon he has learnt nothing
and forgotten nothing.

He's as careless as ever.

It surprises me
that nothing is ever stolen,

the way he leaves premises unlocked.

I was thinking,

it is time we asked our captors
for permission to exercise in the park.

I made a slight change in your papers.

Well, the suit's not too bad.
It's a bit loose.

It was made to fit me.

Anyway, you're now going
as a Dutch worker from Walcheren.

Nobody speaks that dialect.
- I do, but I won't.

Why make things more difficult?

There'll be more than 30 prisoners going
on exercise, so you'll be well hidden.

Have you got your Reichsmarks?
- Yes.

I'm sorry, there isn't much,
but that's all we can spare, I'm afraid.

They're getting assembled in the yard.
- Right, come on.

Great coats.

Right.
- Come on, off you go.

Good luck, Harry.
- Thanks.

Okay.

Whenever you're passing Germans,
keep well bunched up.

And don't forget,

the minute Harry's in that hut,
you join him as soon as possible.

I know.
- Harry's joined the group okay.

All right, go.

Page is coming out now.

That's it, he's joined the group.

George...
- It's going very well.

Check.

Well, what happened?
- I don't know.

Harry got away into the hut all right,
we were creating the diversion,

suddenly there was a lot of shouting
and they'd found Harry.

Get that thing off.
- I was going to.

All right, what happened to you?
- I didn't have a chance.

I dropped my Frenchmen as planned,
I was making my way towards the hut,

couple of guards rushed past me,
that was it.

What happened
to the two extra prisoners?

They got one of them, the Pole.

The Frenchman managed to
hop on someone's back

and we got him back inside safely.

Didn't occur to them
to look for another one.

Do you think they know how it was done?

Well, they must have a fair idea.
They know about the hut anyway.

Well, it was a good try.

Simon.

Excuse us for a moment, would you, John?

What?

Simon, I was watching,
that wasn't what happened.

Well, what did?
- The Frenchie and the Pole were dropped

almost as soon as we were
through the gates.

Then everyone else started playing up,
that went fine.

I was the only person watching the hut.

Now, Page went over to the hut,
very slowly.

He had plenty of time
but he went very slowly.

There was only one guard
anywhere near him.

Now, when he got to the hut,
he opened the door, again, very slowly.

He had all the time in the world,
but he didn't try to go in.

When he was damn sure that guard
had seen him,

he closed the door again
and came and rejoined the rest of us.

So, the guard goes over and finds Harry.
He shopped Harry, Simon!

Page, would you come in here a minute?

Make sure nobody else comes in.
- All right.

You not only wrecked
another man's chance of escape,

you also wrecked a plan that in time

might've got dozens of people
out of this place.

I want an explanation.

I never said I had
any intention of escaping.

Yes, you did.
- No, I didn't.

After you told half the inhabitants
of Colditz I was going to escape,

you decided to tell me.

Well, you never said anything...
- Well, obviously not!

My one chance of staying alive is not
to be suspected by the Gestapo.

And I don't care.

I don't give a damn what
the other prisoners here make of me,

just as long as they assume
that I'm a clumsy coward.

The Gestapo isn't interested
in clumsy cowards.

We have a system here. We obey orders.

Do you imagine for one minute,
that I'm going to risk my life

being tied to an idiot like Harry?

You seem very anxious
to save your own life.

And is that so unnatural?

Well, you were perfectly happy
to risk Harry's.

Well, Harry's life
was never in any danger at all!

The only person whose life
was threatened was me.

And the person who threatened me
was you.

Oh, yes.

You made it quite clear that there was
something odd about me

to a bunch of stupid schoolboys
I wouldn't trust not to tell a child

what it's getting
for a birthday present.

That's a peculiarly stupid remark.

There's a very large sum of money
waiting in a Swiss bank account

for whoever betrays me.

And I've seen plenty of people betrayed
and for all sorts of reasons.

But most of us, when we are caught,
it isn't through treachery,

it's through fear and stupidity.

Yeah, well, perhaps you're judging
British officers by the type of person

that you're used to.

Well, I'm sure a British officer
is immune to fear.

But I haven't seen any reason here,
in Colditz, to assume that they don't

just occasionally lapse
into a stupidity bordering on idiocy!

I could cheerfully kill you
for giving away that plan.

Not a chance.
You wouldn't last a minute.

Oh, basically scratch you,
there's a decent chap underneath...

Somewhere.

No, you'd kill if you had to.

There's that certain something in you,
that would hold you back

just for that one split second.

And that's all the time I need.

I don't like killing people.

I don't dislike it.

I don't have any feelings
about it any more.

Now, you see,

if we hadn't been having
just an academic discussion,

you'd be blind in one eye by now.

Some of our people really are dangerous.

If anything happens which they're not
expecting, they react just by killing.

We had one operator.
He was at home on leave,

he thought he'd feel relaxed
sitting at home, feet up by the fire.

And his little daughter
who was about seven,

decided that she'd creep up
and surprise her daddy.

So she crept up behind his chair,

put her hands over his eyes
and said, "Boo!"

And he reacted
as he'd been trained to react.

Smashed the tea cup in her face
and twisted it round.

And that's the price you have to pay
for all those briefings you get.

"Such and such a German division's
here." "Careful, that bridge is mined."

Or "Your target tonight
is the Karl Storch factory,

"which manufactures 68%
of all German ball bearings"!

Now, how the hell do you think
that information's found

and brought back to you?

Nobody's... Nobody's saying
that your chaps aren't brave.

Oh, you have no idea.

No idea at all.

Two missions ago,
our group had been penetrated.

There was room for one
on a plane to England. Me.

I was the one that was going to be
of some use again.

The rest would be captured, tortured,
and eventually shot.

But there was a girl
who'd become my mistress.

And she was the only one who knew enough

to incriminate anyone
outside that group.

So we made love.

And then I killed her.

No, you have no idea.

On my third mission,

there was some information
that had to be leaked to the Germans.

And they had to believe it.

So I told a French boy, who was only 18,
brave as a lion.

Anyway, I gave him the information
and I told him

that under no circumstances
was he to reveal it ever to the Germans.

And then I sent him on a mission
which I had pre-arranged would fail.

And they duly caught him.

It took them 10 days.

Ten days and nights
to tear that information out of him.

And then they let him die.

And I heard later that he died crying.

Not because of the pain,

but because he had let me down
and I trusted him.

You see, I know the laws of probability.

There were 23 of us that started.

Four were killed in basic training.

The other 19, we averaged
just over three missions each.

Well, that last fiasco was my 12th!

I'm a sole survivor! Top of every list.

The man most likely to succeed
and the man most likely to die.

I found the one place in the world
where I can't be asked to do any more.

I'm already useless,
they must realise that!

Every resistance cell in France

must have at least one person in it
who knows who I am.

And who knows that if the worst
came to the worst,

he can save himself from being deported,
shot or whatever,

just simply by betraying me.

And this stupid system grinds on.

And this is the one place in Europe,

where the Gestapo
wouldn't think of looking for me.

Well?

We leave him alone.

What do you mean?
- Tim told us what happened. Is it true?

Why did he do it, Simon?
- In future...

We just leave him alone.