SAS Rogue Heroes (2022): Season 1, Episode 4 - Episode #1.4 - full transcript
As the SAS's reputation spreads among the Axis Italian and German forces, another daring mission results in a shocking and devastating loss to the team.
I'm not asking for anything
other than permission.
And 60 men. Men I will choose
according to my own criteria.
If you decide to join them, I will
join the SAS too.
Dearest Mirren, you know I love you.
I know I could make you so happy.
If you go out in this,
it will be suicide.
Who? McGonigal, sir.
What is it about Stirling
that you dislike so much?
I invented the SAS.
He had no right to destroy
it on its first mission.
We have a second chance.
Let's see what the stars
have in store for us.
GUNS COCK
MACHINE GUN FIRE
That's Paddy Mayne...
And here am I in the dark
and silent...
It's not a competition, sir.
Of course it is.
Oh, I see.
Let the games begin.
MUSIC: The Game
by Motorhead
LAUGHS WILDLY
Come on, catch him.
How do you like these?
Where the hell did you learn
to drive like that, Paddy Mayne?
Now, we will break off into four
units as before.
I'm guessing it's the same teams
as the last time we attacked
these same airstrips, just to keep
the scoring system fair?
Nope.
Different teams, same team leaders.
Because this whole exercise,
the whole North Africa campaign
is about my team versus your team,
Paddy.
Aye.
Just as long as that is clear.
Gentlemen, this is a theatre
of war, not a playground.
And this time it will be different,
because now the Germans
are expecting us.
Every airstrip will be on high
alert.
Even more fun, Jock.
So now perhaps double points
for each plane destroyed?
Lewes, you will take Almonds
and Riley to Nofilia airstrip.
Fraser... I want no
part in this idiotic game.
..you will go with Lewes,
but take four men and break
off at the airstrip to attack
the airfield to the west.
And Paddy, just as the last time,
you will take Tamet and I will take
Sirte.
Round two then, sir.
Oh, yes, round two.
Can I come on your team, then, sir?
Of course you can, sweetheart,
you stick with Uncle Paddy.
Oh, she's a keen kitten.
She is.
And whoever destroys the most
aeroplanes tonight will win a bottle
of 20-year-old single malt
Scotch whisky!
CHEERING
Oh, my father's favourite.
Now, I carry it with me in case
I'm fatally wounded.
Now, I'm offering it as a prize
in our game.
Paddy, you've had a lot
of whisky in your time.
Nothing as good as this,
considering your humble background.
Shall I stand between you two
fucking
idiots like a headmaster?
Myself, I prefer potcheen, distilled
in bathtubs.
But I will gladly take this
pish off your hands when I win, sir.
OK, men, check your weapons.
GUNS COCKING
David.
What's this idiotic nonsense
about a game?
No commanding officer has ever
been able to control Paddy Mayne
because none of them understood him.
He will fight against me
come what may.
But now, he will try to retain
dominance by destroying enemy
aircraft, which is essential
if we don't want Tobruk to fall.
Yes, but is it really clever
strategy, David, or do
you just want to win the game?
What time is it? Ten minutes to
midnight.
We need to wait for the moon to set.
Let's wait here for the moon to set.
Four miles to the airstrip. The
coast road is
just over that ridge.
We can't risk the vehicles
any further.
Fuck the moon.
There you are, sir.
Let's go.
VOICES IN DISTANCE
The cheeky bastards have put up
fences.
Aye, cheeky fox.
But it'll make it more fun
this time.
I think we should wait for the moon
to settle - they'll see us.
No, the moon is our friend.
Patience is our enemy.
And besides,
those that see us will soon be dead.
Listen...
DEEP RUMBLING
Just as I thought, fences
and searchlights this time.
All righty.
I want you to read this.
Um...
..I'm not religious, sir.
If you're unable to read the print,
the light will be sufficiently
bad for us to move.
Pass it me, it's my favourite.
And, er, what are you doing, sir?
We have at least 15 more minutes.
So you read your Bible.
I'm going to pray in my own way.
LOW CHUCKLE
My dearest Mirren,
it has been two weeks since I sent
you my letter of marriage proposal.
I'm imagining that I haven't
received a response
because of faults in the mail
service.
We are now based on the planet Mars.
And mail comes once every blue moon.
And speaking of the moon, every time
I look at it, I think of you.
So damn corny, isn't it? Like one
of those awful Hollywood films.
SHE LAUGHS
But the moon gives me hope
that something so cold and remote
can appear beautiful.
I believe I too am considered cold
and remote by some, and I am hoping
that you might also consider
me, if not beautiful,
then at least dependable.
And I hope that your answer
to my proposal will be yes.
The light died just after
"Thou shalt not kill", sir.
Well, I can tell you the full
commandment - Thou shalt not kill,
except in a very good cause.
Every day, Hitler sends innocents
to their deaths.
So we have a very good cause.
Fraser.
Take your men west.
We go east.
Go well, sir.
Best of luck, boys.
ENGINES REV
Mac, Mac...
German reinforcements heading
to join Rommel.
We can't reach Sirte airstrip
without crossing that road.
Fuck!
DRAWS KNIFE
GERMAN VOICES
COCKS GUN
MUFFLED SCREAM
KNIFE SLASHES
Only five Messerschmitts on the
strip. Meaning what?
Five is five.
Five Messerschmitts taken out of
action,
British lives saved.
DOG BARKS
Yes, sir.
I only wish there were more.
They don't care about the scores on
the blackboard, none of us do.
Good.
Only monsters would keep count.
If that's Rommel's main relief
column, there will be
no break for three
hours. There will be a break.
German troops stay tight to
prevent... There will be a bloody
break, Sadler!
I will get a break.
I am owed a fucking break!
MUSIC: Born to Lose,
by Johnny Thunders
# Oh, that's the way it goes
# The city is so cold
# Born to lose
# Born to lose
# Born to lose
# Baby I'm born to lose... #
DOG BARKS
GUARD SHOUTS
Bad dog.
Looks like Paddy's lit another
bonfire.
Now, then. what the fuck has he
blown up?
Whatever it is, I imagine there's
little doubt about the destination
of my father's favourite whisky.
LAUGHTER
My father would be very proud.
That's it, road's clear.
That's the last of them.
What time is it?
4:26 sun rises at 4:40. It's another
20-minute march to Sirte airstrip.
SIGHS: It's too late.
DISTANT BOOMING
Looks like Lewes and Fraser
have had some success, too.
Bravo!
Bravo!
Of course.
Of course.
The road became clear
when it was already too late.
Or imagine a more amusing
possibility.
The road became clear
BECAUSE it was too late.
Therein lies a crucial philosophical
distinction.
In The Iliad, Homer wrote,
Fate is born with us.
No man escapes it, neither
brave man nor coward.
What do you say, Sadler?
I say no when he's talking
of bravery or cowardice.
Indeed.
No-one is talking at all.
HE FARTS
If you see a brown stone, Rog,
stay away from it.
Stirling!
We done it.
I want to write down the scores.
Why don't you leave it alone, Paddy?
Rog, 24 plus 27...
50...
..1.
Scare the Jerries off, that.
Even though they took extra
precautions, I think
we did rather well.
Wires, dogs, wide-eyed,
boys notwithstanding.
What caused all the fireworks?
5,000 gallons of aviation fuel.
Ah.
I'm not counting that in my tally.
What about you?
Who's getting the whisky?
The prize has gone, Paddy.
Some of it I drank, the rest
shot to pieces.
Decided it was a worthless gesture.
My strategy was ugly and vain,
and a bottle of whisky is not
a fitting reward
for the resourcefulness and courage
you have shown over two
very dangerous assignments.
So...
..I'm going to recommend to GHQ
that you be awarded
the Distinguished Service Order
Medal and that you be promoted
to the rank of captain.
Congratulations, Captain Mayne.
The Special Air Services first
combat medal and first promotion.
Three cheers for Captain Paddy
Mayne, the mad bastard of Tamet
strip!
Hip-hip...
Hooray!
Hip-hip... Hooray!
Now you can try wearing the mantle
of power yourself,
you mutinous Irish cunt.
You see you...
You are the first commanding officer
that I've ever actually liked.
Huh.
Where in the hell is Lewes?
Mirren?
Mirren?
SHE CHUCKLES
What are you doing?
I was asking my dear-departed
grandmother a question.
What question?
You're being very mysterious.
Where are we going?
My grandmother said yes.
So let's do it.
In the back of the car!
It's what all the young people
in America do, apparently.
Erm...
SHE GIGGLES
Remember, you have to pull out.
I will, my love.
I will.
BOTH GROAN
I love you, Mirren.
GROANING
Oh!
Oh, oh, Lord!
What?
Quickly, for God's sake.
What do we do?
Like this? Yes, quicker.
Oh!
Oh! Goodness.
Such a lot!
HE CLEARS THROAT
Oh!
What? Now you are ruined?
My dress is ruined.
Well, Mirren...
When we're married, there
will be no need
for strategic withdrawals.
You always resort to military terms
when you're embarrassed.
Did you hear me?
I said, when we're married.
Oh, Jock...
Enemy aircraft, due south!
AIRCRAFT DRONE
Everyone, fan out. Watch out!
Almonds, head for the rocks.
Everyone out. Fan out!
Grab your weapons, take cover.
Get the Bren gun.
Scatter!
Everybody scatter!
Get down, sir, there's another
plane! Obviously made ourselves
something of a priority, how
flattering.
Almonds, take cover. Come on.
Fuck off!
HE GRUNTS
SHOUTING
Are you hit, sir?
They're swinging back 'round.
Duck! Are you OK, sir?
Just head for the rocks.
I'll meet you there.
Sir, you have to run, run.
Run? Walk would be a fine thing.
Sir! Are you OK?
GROANS
GRUNTS
SHOUTING, GUNFIRE
Sir!
Do you need help?
GROANS
We'll come and get you.
Get back behind the rocks!
They're coming again!
GRUNTS
BIRDS CHIRP
Jock.
In answer to your proposal, my
love...
..I really have to say no.
How can I marry a man who's
already dead?
HE GRUNTS
No.
No, no, no.
No, Mirren.
No.
No, I'm not dead.
I'm alive. Mirren...
I'm not dead, Mirren!
I'll be with you in a moment.
As quickly as I can.
Jock! Sir, you're hurt.
I'll come to you.
Do not go down there, that's a
fucking order. I will not let you
die.
SHOUTING
Sir, I'm coming.
Almost there, darling.
AIRCRAFT DRONES
GUNFIRE
There's only one vehicle.
I wonder if the Germans
have a blackboard.
Everyone all right, lads?
You all right, fellas?
Get them a drink.
Jock didn't make it.
What-what do you mean?
What do you mean?
What do you think I mean?
No. Where is he?
He's fucking dead.
Hey, hey..
Where is he?!
He's where he fell.
You left him?
I left him...!
That's the fucking protocol!
You, on your fucking order.
"Do not attempt to retrieve
the bodies of the fallen
"as it will impede swift execution
of the given mission", sir.
He's a bloody mess, out in the sun.
Which is where we
are all going to be, now
that Jerry is onto us.
STIRLING GRUNTS
I actually didn't believe
John Lewes was human.
Sir, put out your cigarette.
Sir, put out your cigarette.
Fuck off!
Fuck off!
He died well.
Sand, sand, quick.
So...
..only the dreamer
and the madman left.
Who the fuck is going to be
the sensible one now?
Dear Jock, I received your letter
this morning, and I danced.
I actually danced with the letter
in my hand as if it was
you I was dancing with.
Of course I will marry you, Jock.
Of course I will.
Parade.
Parade.
Attention.
Morning, gentlemen.
ALL: Morning, sir.
He said, "Good morning, gentlemen."
GOOD MORNING, SIR!
Like fucking primary school.
Relax.
Well, if this is primary school,
I've had a message
from the headmaster,
General Auchinleck himself.
But before I tell
you what he has to say...
..the period of mourning
for Lieutenant Jock Lewes is over.
Cooper,
hoist the flag. Sir!
Auchinleck expresses his
astonishment at the success
that we have achieved in such
a short space of time.
Having destroyed 90 enemy aircraft
in three weeks,
we have exceeded the number
destroyed by the RAF
by a factor of three. Fuck!
Paddy Mayne's DSO has been
confirmed and he has been promoted
to the rank of captain. Sir?
It's not working.
Right, Seekings,
help that poor boy now.
Fucking gladly, sir.
Fraser has been awarded
the Military Cross.
Rope snagged, is it?
Yeah.
And I have been promoted to the rank
of major.
We have made... I think
it's the wheel. It's the fucking
rope, you oaf.
Hey, talk to me like that,
I'll knock your bleeding block off!
Go on, then! Fuck sake!
In the bigger picture,
against the odds, we now
have the initiative.
This success is in thanks in no
small part to the work that you,
the men of the SAS have carried out.
We achieve our success because we do
things differently.
We achieve our goals in our own way.
Fuck wheels.
Fuck ropes.
Just tie the fucking thing.
In recognition of your startling
successes, GHQ
have awarded you all five days
leave.
We may not be an official regiment,
but when you make your way
to your bars and brothels in Cairo,
you will all be wearing one
of these - cap badges by Bob Tait.
The flaming sword is the legendary
sword Excalibur.
New jump wings.
They were designed by Jock.
Those of you that can read,
will have read the motto
on our badge.
Now, Paddy, since you have embodied
the words best, I will leave
it to you to say them.
The new motto
of the Special Air Service is -
drink rum, fight dirty, fuck the
rules.
The new motto is Who Dares Wins.
Who dares...wins.
And we will continue to dare.
There are trucks
on the way to take you all to Cairo.
Wear the beret on your head,
and a condom on your massive cocks.
That'll be all.
Mutinous Irish cunt requesting
permission not to travel to Cairo,
sir.
MUSIC: Bless 'Em All
by George Formby
Hey, lads, who
ordered the coffee
and the ice cream cones here?
So what's the white bonnet
represent, then, ladies?
Are you Girl Scouts?
Let me see that.
Oh, oh! Shouldn't have done that.
What do you think?
Which one of you lovely ladies wants
to take me to Ascot, for Ladies Day?
What? Remember, Davey boy...
..even though we can't understand
a fucking word these Scotch wankers
say...
..they are British and we're not
allowed to kill them.
ROMANTIC MUSIC PLAYS
BIRD CHIRPS
For fuck's sake.
I can't bear this
thing...complaining.
Fuck off!
Jesus.
I'm sorry.
You're joking.
What the fuck's going on, Reg?
..Over the colour of our berets!
Anybody else have an opinion on our
fucking headgear?!
Please step forward.
MPs are coming!
Although, I have to say, regarding
the colour of the new beret,
they do have a point.
I hear your new detachment's doing
very well.
This isn't really my detachment.
It's Jock's detachment.
I suppose now it is
mine, belongs to me and that madman.
Here. Thank you.
If you don't like canaries
in cages, why did you get one?
Er...so I can set it free.
You might think I'm compassionate.
Are you not compassionate?
No, I don't think I am.
To your victories. Ah...
Though you look like someone who is
losing.
Yes, I am a boy playing a game
while my father watches...
..as he always did.
If I don't score the most tries,
or make the most runs,
he won't speak to me all
the way home.
It's the sound of the car
engine, the windscreen wipers
and the thunderous roar
of his silence.
Let's go out for a drink.
What's the rush?
No rush.
Just want to see the sunset
from the balcony of the Empire Club.
I would, er, rather stay here.
OK.
The truth.
There's someone I want you to
meet...tonight.
Top secret.
And there was me thinking
that you were with me
because you liked me.
I'm trying very hard to only like
you.
Come.
Owen!
Owen?!
Your bodies
meet your spirits here, I think.
I was going to read you,
Homer or Keats...
..but then I thought, fuck that.
I think I used to bore you with it.
And you were just being polite.
You remember that idiotic Percy
French song we used to sing?
I'll sing you the Percy French thing
and we'll have a laugh.
# We'll cross the ditch, our leader
said and take the foe in flank
# But yells of consternation then
arose from every rank
# For posted high upon a tree
# We very plainly saw
# Trespassers prosecuted in
accordance with the law
# We're foiled, exclaimed bold
Slattery
# Here ends our grand campaign
# Tis merrily throwing life away
to face that mare and drain
# Now I'm not as brave as lions
but I'm braver than the hen
# And he who fights and runs away
will live to fight again... #
Oh, to run away, eh, Owen?
Oh, how grand a life
it would be to be a coward.
To love life that much.
We'll sleep here tonight, I think.
Dear God, I do hope this isn't
your little surprise.
Look...
No, it isn't.
He's seen us. And he's drunk.
Stirling. Major Stirling, now, I
hear.
Although I believe you personally
have achieved nothing.
I have something for you.
It seems my phantom regiment
has a new ethos.
Who Dares Wins?
Where the fuck did you get that?
Someone picked it off a barroom
floor after a brawl?
My great friend, the Commissariat
of Cairo Police, tells me
there were seven fights resulting
in injury across the red light
district of Cairo since 10:00
this morning, six of them involving
men wearing the SAS beret.
Yes, they are men who will not back
down if they are insulted.
Oh, I see.
And the choice of colour
was deliberate.
Mr Clarke, Eve and I are planning
to have dinner.
You chose white to provoke
confrontation.
You see, my dear, there's
nothing like a barroom brawl
to bring men together.
Good for company morale.
Mr Clarke, I am asking
you politely.
Leave us alone.
You are a specimen.
You've achieved nothing.
Yet you have the audacity to
redesign my regiment's jump wings.
Thank you for bringing the SAS
into being.
Thank you for returning the beret.
Now, fuck off.
You'd better get her to teach you
some French, old boy.
The French are coming your way,
and they are the real deal.
What did he mean - French
coming my way?
Let's dance.
All right.
What the fuck is this all about?
Auchinleck...
..he just arrived.
General. Miss Mansour.
How do you do? Stirling.
A little. Well,
for business,
I prefer to use English. General
Auchinleck, what brings you here?
Well, your success brings us
here, and Captain Berge's
request for help.
Please, allow me.
I would not want anyone
to impose upon me,
therefore, I don't want
to impose on you.
Impose what?
I have 20 of
the toughest, finest paratroopers
in the French Army,
under my command.
They're like wild dogs on leashes,
wanting to kill Germans.
Well, we want to deploy
them in the desert,
but they have to be trained.
Our chief training officer
was killed in action.
We'll find somebody else.
It's all been arranged.
We're sending French paratroopers
to join you.
Decided by who?
This was my idea.
And everything up until then
has been part of the strategy.
My first priority is the execution
of the war.
So is yours.
To begin with, you'd only
have to spare one man. Somebody
left behind to train the Free
French in desert warfare.
But in order to deal with my wild
dogs, he would have to be
a very strong man.
When would this deployment begin?
Good man.
Come on, have a drink.
Can we get some chairs?
Miss Mansour, you must tell me
all about your last few days...
PIANO PLAYS
Did you find him?
Yep.
Paddy...
..GHQ are sending us a detachment
of French paratroopers.
We don't need many more men.
Well, it's a direct order
from Auchinleck himself, a favour
to Charles de Gaulle, promised
by Winston Churchill.
But we would need someone
to train them.
Someone with experience.
Someone to set up a training camp.
Train them to fight in this oven
made of sand, you see.
Who?
Well...
..with Jock gone...
..there is no-one else experienced
enough or tough enough.
I've decided it has to be you.
So I stay in Jalo while you continue
to go out on missions?
Yes, of course, we will
continue our campaign.
So the loser finds a way to win.
You know, my old dad, Irish
from both sides, stabbed from both
sides by men like you.
Landowning gentry.
Paddy, there is no-one else..
He said to me about life
as a common man,
he said...
You don't deserve my father's
wisdom.
Right. Well, listen, Paddy.
Oh - sometimes
when you are in command,
you need to make difficult
decisions.
Not play the fucking piano and go
sightseeing in the desert.
GUNSHOTS
We're fucked.
other than permission.
And 60 men. Men I will choose
according to my own criteria.
If you decide to join them, I will
join the SAS too.
Dearest Mirren, you know I love you.
I know I could make you so happy.
If you go out in this,
it will be suicide.
Who? McGonigal, sir.
What is it about Stirling
that you dislike so much?
I invented the SAS.
He had no right to destroy
it on its first mission.
We have a second chance.
Let's see what the stars
have in store for us.
GUNS COCK
MACHINE GUN FIRE
That's Paddy Mayne...
And here am I in the dark
and silent...
It's not a competition, sir.
Of course it is.
Oh, I see.
Let the games begin.
MUSIC: The Game
by Motorhead
LAUGHS WILDLY
Come on, catch him.
How do you like these?
Where the hell did you learn
to drive like that, Paddy Mayne?
Now, we will break off into four
units as before.
I'm guessing it's the same teams
as the last time we attacked
these same airstrips, just to keep
the scoring system fair?
Nope.
Different teams, same team leaders.
Because this whole exercise,
the whole North Africa campaign
is about my team versus your team,
Paddy.
Aye.
Just as long as that is clear.
Gentlemen, this is a theatre
of war, not a playground.
And this time it will be different,
because now the Germans
are expecting us.
Every airstrip will be on high
alert.
Even more fun, Jock.
So now perhaps double points
for each plane destroyed?
Lewes, you will take Almonds
and Riley to Nofilia airstrip.
Fraser... I want no
part in this idiotic game.
..you will go with Lewes,
but take four men and break
off at the airstrip to attack
the airfield to the west.
And Paddy, just as the last time,
you will take Tamet and I will take
Sirte.
Round two then, sir.
Oh, yes, round two.
Can I come on your team, then, sir?
Of course you can, sweetheart,
you stick with Uncle Paddy.
Oh, she's a keen kitten.
She is.
And whoever destroys the most
aeroplanes tonight will win a bottle
of 20-year-old single malt
Scotch whisky!
CHEERING
Oh, my father's favourite.
Now, I carry it with me in case
I'm fatally wounded.
Now, I'm offering it as a prize
in our game.
Paddy, you've had a lot
of whisky in your time.
Nothing as good as this,
considering your humble background.
Shall I stand between you two
fucking
idiots like a headmaster?
Myself, I prefer potcheen, distilled
in bathtubs.
But I will gladly take this
pish off your hands when I win, sir.
OK, men, check your weapons.
GUNS COCKING
David.
What's this idiotic nonsense
about a game?
No commanding officer has ever
been able to control Paddy Mayne
because none of them understood him.
He will fight against me
come what may.
But now, he will try to retain
dominance by destroying enemy
aircraft, which is essential
if we don't want Tobruk to fall.
Yes, but is it really clever
strategy, David, or do
you just want to win the game?
What time is it? Ten minutes to
midnight.
We need to wait for the moon to set.
Let's wait here for the moon to set.
Four miles to the airstrip. The
coast road is
just over that ridge.
We can't risk the vehicles
any further.
Fuck the moon.
There you are, sir.
Let's go.
VOICES IN DISTANCE
The cheeky bastards have put up
fences.
Aye, cheeky fox.
But it'll make it more fun
this time.
I think we should wait for the moon
to settle - they'll see us.
No, the moon is our friend.
Patience is our enemy.
And besides,
those that see us will soon be dead.
Listen...
DEEP RUMBLING
Just as I thought, fences
and searchlights this time.
All righty.
I want you to read this.
Um...
..I'm not religious, sir.
If you're unable to read the print,
the light will be sufficiently
bad for us to move.
Pass it me, it's my favourite.
And, er, what are you doing, sir?
We have at least 15 more minutes.
So you read your Bible.
I'm going to pray in my own way.
LOW CHUCKLE
My dearest Mirren,
it has been two weeks since I sent
you my letter of marriage proposal.
I'm imagining that I haven't
received a response
because of faults in the mail
service.
We are now based on the planet Mars.
And mail comes once every blue moon.
And speaking of the moon, every time
I look at it, I think of you.
So damn corny, isn't it? Like one
of those awful Hollywood films.
SHE LAUGHS
But the moon gives me hope
that something so cold and remote
can appear beautiful.
I believe I too am considered cold
and remote by some, and I am hoping
that you might also consider
me, if not beautiful,
then at least dependable.
And I hope that your answer
to my proposal will be yes.
The light died just after
"Thou shalt not kill", sir.
Well, I can tell you the full
commandment - Thou shalt not kill,
except in a very good cause.
Every day, Hitler sends innocents
to their deaths.
So we have a very good cause.
Fraser.
Take your men west.
We go east.
Go well, sir.
Best of luck, boys.
ENGINES REV
Mac, Mac...
German reinforcements heading
to join Rommel.
We can't reach Sirte airstrip
without crossing that road.
Fuck!
DRAWS KNIFE
GERMAN VOICES
COCKS GUN
MUFFLED SCREAM
KNIFE SLASHES
Only five Messerschmitts on the
strip. Meaning what?
Five is five.
Five Messerschmitts taken out of
action,
British lives saved.
DOG BARKS
Yes, sir.
I only wish there were more.
They don't care about the scores on
the blackboard, none of us do.
Good.
Only monsters would keep count.
If that's Rommel's main relief
column, there will be
no break for three
hours. There will be a break.
German troops stay tight to
prevent... There will be a bloody
break, Sadler!
I will get a break.
I am owed a fucking break!
MUSIC: Born to Lose,
by Johnny Thunders
# Oh, that's the way it goes
# The city is so cold
# Born to lose
# Born to lose
# Born to lose
# Baby I'm born to lose... #
DOG BARKS
GUARD SHOUTS
Bad dog.
Looks like Paddy's lit another
bonfire.
Now, then. what the fuck has he
blown up?
Whatever it is, I imagine there's
little doubt about the destination
of my father's favourite whisky.
LAUGHTER
My father would be very proud.
That's it, road's clear.
That's the last of them.
What time is it?
4:26 sun rises at 4:40. It's another
20-minute march to Sirte airstrip.
SIGHS: It's too late.
DISTANT BOOMING
Looks like Lewes and Fraser
have had some success, too.
Bravo!
Bravo!
Of course.
Of course.
The road became clear
when it was already too late.
Or imagine a more amusing
possibility.
The road became clear
BECAUSE it was too late.
Therein lies a crucial philosophical
distinction.
In The Iliad, Homer wrote,
Fate is born with us.
No man escapes it, neither
brave man nor coward.
What do you say, Sadler?
I say no when he's talking
of bravery or cowardice.
Indeed.
No-one is talking at all.
HE FARTS
If you see a brown stone, Rog,
stay away from it.
Stirling!
We done it.
I want to write down the scores.
Why don't you leave it alone, Paddy?
Rog, 24 plus 27...
50...
..1.
Scare the Jerries off, that.
Even though they took extra
precautions, I think
we did rather well.
Wires, dogs, wide-eyed,
boys notwithstanding.
What caused all the fireworks?
5,000 gallons of aviation fuel.
Ah.
I'm not counting that in my tally.
What about you?
Who's getting the whisky?
The prize has gone, Paddy.
Some of it I drank, the rest
shot to pieces.
Decided it was a worthless gesture.
My strategy was ugly and vain,
and a bottle of whisky is not
a fitting reward
for the resourcefulness and courage
you have shown over two
very dangerous assignments.
So...
..I'm going to recommend to GHQ
that you be awarded
the Distinguished Service Order
Medal and that you be promoted
to the rank of captain.
Congratulations, Captain Mayne.
The Special Air Services first
combat medal and first promotion.
Three cheers for Captain Paddy
Mayne, the mad bastard of Tamet
strip!
Hip-hip...
Hooray!
Hip-hip... Hooray!
Now you can try wearing the mantle
of power yourself,
you mutinous Irish cunt.
You see you...
You are the first commanding officer
that I've ever actually liked.
Huh.
Where in the hell is Lewes?
Mirren?
Mirren?
SHE CHUCKLES
What are you doing?
I was asking my dear-departed
grandmother a question.
What question?
You're being very mysterious.
Where are we going?
My grandmother said yes.
So let's do it.
In the back of the car!
It's what all the young people
in America do, apparently.
Erm...
SHE GIGGLES
Remember, you have to pull out.
I will, my love.
I will.
BOTH GROAN
I love you, Mirren.
GROANING
Oh!
Oh, oh, Lord!
What?
Quickly, for God's sake.
What do we do?
Like this? Yes, quicker.
Oh!
Oh! Goodness.
Such a lot!
HE CLEARS THROAT
Oh!
What? Now you are ruined?
My dress is ruined.
Well, Mirren...
When we're married, there
will be no need
for strategic withdrawals.
You always resort to military terms
when you're embarrassed.
Did you hear me?
I said, when we're married.
Oh, Jock...
Enemy aircraft, due south!
AIRCRAFT DRONE
Everyone, fan out. Watch out!
Almonds, head for the rocks.
Everyone out. Fan out!
Grab your weapons, take cover.
Get the Bren gun.
Scatter!
Everybody scatter!
Get down, sir, there's another
plane! Obviously made ourselves
something of a priority, how
flattering.
Almonds, take cover. Come on.
Fuck off!
HE GRUNTS
SHOUTING
Are you hit, sir?
They're swinging back 'round.
Duck! Are you OK, sir?
Just head for the rocks.
I'll meet you there.
Sir, you have to run, run.
Run? Walk would be a fine thing.
Sir! Are you OK?
GROANS
GRUNTS
SHOUTING, GUNFIRE
Sir!
Do you need help?
GROANS
We'll come and get you.
Get back behind the rocks!
They're coming again!
GRUNTS
BIRDS CHIRP
Jock.
In answer to your proposal, my
love...
..I really have to say no.
How can I marry a man who's
already dead?
HE GRUNTS
No.
No, no, no.
No, Mirren.
No.
No, I'm not dead.
I'm alive. Mirren...
I'm not dead, Mirren!
I'll be with you in a moment.
As quickly as I can.
Jock! Sir, you're hurt.
I'll come to you.
Do not go down there, that's a
fucking order. I will not let you
die.
SHOUTING
Sir, I'm coming.
Almost there, darling.
AIRCRAFT DRONES
GUNFIRE
There's only one vehicle.
I wonder if the Germans
have a blackboard.
Everyone all right, lads?
You all right, fellas?
Get them a drink.
Jock didn't make it.
What-what do you mean?
What do you mean?
What do you think I mean?
No. Where is he?
He's fucking dead.
Hey, hey..
Where is he?!
He's where he fell.
You left him?
I left him...!
That's the fucking protocol!
You, on your fucking order.
"Do not attempt to retrieve
the bodies of the fallen
"as it will impede swift execution
of the given mission", sir.
He's a bloody mess, out in the sun.
Which is where we
are all going to be, now
that Jerry is onto us.
STIRLING GRUNTS
I actually didn't believe
John Lewes was human.
Sir, put out your cigarette.
Sir, put out your cigarette.
Fuck off!
Fuck off!
He died well.
Sand, sand, quick.
So...
..only the dreamer
and the madman left.
Who the fuck is going to be
the sensible one now?
Dear Jock, I received your letter
this morning, and I danced.
I actually danced with the letter
in my hand as if it was
you I was dancing with.
Of course I will marry you, Jock.
Of course I will.
Parade.
Parade.
Attention.
Morning, gentlemen.
ALL: Morning, sir.
He said, "Good morning, gentlemen."
GOOD MORNING, SIR!
Like fucking primary school.
Relax.
Well, if this is primary school,
I've had a message
from the headmaster,
General Auchinleck himself.
But before I tell
you what he has to say...
..the period of mourning
for Lieutenant Jock Lewes is over.
Cooper,
hoist the flag. Sir!
Auchinleck expresses his
astonishment at the success
that we have achieved in such
a short space of time.
Having destroyed 90 enemy aircraft
in three weeks,
we have exceeded the number
destroyed by the RAF
by a factor of three. Fuck!
Paddy Mayne's DSO has been
confirmed and he has been promoted
to the rank of captain. Sir?
It's not working.
Right, Seekings,
help that poor boy now.
Fucking gladly, sir.
Fraser has been awarded
the Military Cross.
Rope snagged, is it?
Yeah.
And I have been promoted to the rank
of major.
We have made... I think
it's the wheel. It's the fucking
rope, you oaf.
Hey, talk to me like that,
I'll knock your bleeding block off!
Go on, then! Fuck sake!
In the bigger picture,
against the odds, we now
have the initiative.
This success is in thanks in no
small part to the work that you,
the men of the SAS have carried out.
We achieve our success because we do
things differently.
We achieve our goals in our own way.
Fuck wheels.
Fuck ropes.
Just tie the fucking thing.
In recognition of your startling
successes, GHQ
have awarded you all five days
leave.
We may not be an official regiment,
but when you make your way
to your bars and brothels in Cairo,
you will all be wearing one
of these - cap badges by Bob Tait.
The flaming sword is the legendary
sword Excalibur.
New jump wings.
They were designed by Jock.
Those of you that can read,
will have read the motto
on our badge.
Now, Paddy, since you have embodied
the words best, I will leave
it to you to say them.
The new motto
of the Special Air Service is -
drink rum, fight dirty, fuck the
rules.
The new motto is Who Dares Wins.
Who dares...wins.
And we will continue to dare.
There are trucks
on the way to take you all to Cairo.
Wear the beret on your head,
and a condom on your massive cocks.
That'll be all.
Mutinous Irish cunt requesting
permission not to travel to Cairo,
sir.
MUSIC: Bless 'Em All
by George Formby
Hey, lads, who
ordered the coffee
and the ice cream cones here?
So what's the white bonnet
represent, then, ladies?
Are you Girl Scouts?
Let me see that.
Oh, oh! Shouldn't have done that.
What do you think?
Which one of you lovely ladies wants
to take me to Ascot, for Ladies Day?
What? Remember, Davey boy...
..even though we can't understand
a fucking word these Scotch wankers
say...
..they are British and we're not
allowed to kill them.
ROMANTIC MUSIC PLAYS
BIRD CHIRPS
For fuck's sake.
I can't bear this
thing...complaining.
Fuck off!
Jesus.
I'm sorry.
You're joking.
What the fuck's going on, Reg?
..Over the colour of our berets!
Anybody else have an opinion on our
fucking headgear?!
Please step forward.
MPs are coming!
Although, I have to say, regarding
the colour of the new beret,
they do have a point.
I hear your new detachment's doing
very well.
This isn't really my detachment.
It's Jock's detachment.
I suppose now it is
mine, belongs to me and that madman.
Here. Thank you.
If you don't like canaries
in cages, why did you get one?
Er...so I can set it free.
You might think I'm compassionate.
Are you not compassionate?
No, I don't think I am.
To your victories. Ah...
Though you look like someone who is
losing.
Yes, I am a boy playing a game
while my father watches...
..as he always did.
If I don't score the most tries,
or make the most runs,
he won't speak to me all
the way home.
It's the sound of the car
engine, the windscreen wipers
and the thunderous roar
of his silence.
Let's go out for a drink.
What's the rush?
No rush.
Just want to see the sunset
from the balcony of the Empire Club.
I would, er, rather stay here.
OK.
The truth.
There's someone I want you to
meet...tonight.
Top secret.
And there was me thinking
that you were with me
because you liked me.
I'm trying very hard to only like
you.
Come.
Owen!
Owen?!
Your bodies
meet your spirits here, I think.
I was going to read you,
Homer or Keats...
..but then I thought, fuck that.
I think I used to bore you with it.
And you were just being polite.
You remember that idiotic Percy
French song we used to sing?
I'll sing you the Percy French thing
and we'll have a laugh.
# We'll cross the ditch, our leader
said and take the foe in flank
# But yells of consternation then
arose from every rank
# For posted high upon a tree
# We very plainly saw
# Trespassers prosecuted in
accordance with the law
# We're foiled, exclaimed bold
Slattery
# Here ends our grand campaign
# Tis merrily throwing life away
to face that mare and drain
# Now I'm not as brave as lions
but I'm braver than the hen
# And he who fights and runs away
will live to fight again... #
Oh, to run away, eh, Owen?
Oh, how grand a life
it would be to be a coward.
To love life that much.
We'll sleep here tonight, I think.
Dear God, I do hope this isn't
your little surprise.
Look...
No, it isn't.
He's seen us. And he's drunk.
Stirling. Major Stirling, now, I
hear.
Although I believe you personally
have achieved nothing.
I have something for you.
It seems my phantom regiment
has a new ethos.
Who Dares Wins?
Where the fuck did you get that?
Someone picked it off a barroom
floor after a brawl?
My great friend, the Commissariat
of Cairo Police, tells me
there were seven fights resulting
in injury across the red light
district of Cairo since 10:00
this morning, six of them involving
men wearing the SAS beret.
Yes, they are men who will not back
down if they are insulted.
Oh, I see.
And the choice of colour
was deliberate.
Mr Clarke, Eve and I are planning
to have dinner.
You chose white to provoke
confrontation.
You see, my dear, there's
nothing like a barroom brawl
to bring men together.
Good for company morale.
Mr Clarke, I am asking
you politely.
Leave us alone.
You are a specimen.
You've achieved nothing.
Yet you have the audacity to
redesign my regiment's jump wings.
Thank you for bringing the SAS
into being.
Thank you for returning the beret.
Now, fuck off.
You'd better get her to teach you
some French, old boy.
The French are coming your way,
and they are the real deal.
What did he mean - French
coming my way?
Let's dance.
All right.
What the fuck is this all about?
Auchinleck...
..he just arrived.
General. Miss Mansour.
How do you do? Stirling.
A little. Well,
for business,
I prefer to use English. General
Auchinleck, what brings you here?
Well, your success brings us
here, and Captain Berge's
request for help.
Please, allow me.
I would not want anyone
to impose upon me,
therefore, I don't want
to impose on you.
Impose what?
I have 20 of
the toughest, finest paratroopers
in the French Army,
under my command.
They're like wild dogs on leashes,
wanting to kill Germans.
Well, we want to deploy
them in the desert,
but they have to be trained.
Our chief training officer
was killed in action.
We'll find somebody else.
It's all been arranged.
We're sending French paratroopers
to join you.
Decided by who?
This was my idea.
And everything up until then
has been part of the strategy.
My first priority is the execution
of the war.
So is yours.
To begin with, you'd only
have to spare one man. Somebody
left behind to train the Free
French in desert warfare.
But in order to deal with my wild
dogs, he would have to be
a very strong man.
When would this deployment begin?
Good man.
Come on, have a drink.
Can we get some chairs?
Miss Mansour, you must tell me
all about your last few days...
PIANO PLAYS
Did you find him?
Yep.
Paddy...
..GHQ are sending us a detachment
of French paratroopers.
We don't need many more men.
Well, it's a direct order
from Auchinleck himself, a favour
to Charles de Gaulle, promised
by Winston Churchill.
But we would need someone
to train them.
Someone with experience.
Someone to set up a training camp.
Train them to fight in this oven
made of sand, you see.
Who?
Well...
..with Jock gone...
..there is no-one else experienced
enough or tough enough.
I've decided it has to be you.
So I stay in Jalo while you continue
to go out on missions?
Yes, of course, we will
continue our campaign.
So the loser finds a way to win.
You know, my old dad, Irish
from both sides, stabbed from both
sides by men like you.
Landowning gentry.
Paddy, there is no-one else..
He said to me about life
as a common man,
he said...
You don't deserve my father's
wisdom.
Right. Well, listen, Paddy.
Oh - sometimes
when you are in command,
you need to make difficult
decisions.
Not play the fucking piano and go
sightseeing in the desert.
GUNSHOTS
We're fucked.