Upstairs, Downstairs (1971–1975): Season 4, Episode 2 - News from the Front - full transcript

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Acorn Media (re-sync by moviesbyrizzo)

What's that supposed to be,
Ruby?

It's a comforter, Mrs. Bridges,
for Edward.

More like suffocate him
than comfort him, if you ask me.

Listen, girl, you've got to
count the number of stitches!

Terrible losses again today,
Mr. Hudson?

Aye, 102 officers
dead and missing.

Worse than Neuve Chapelle.

Lord Wendover,
Captain Mackintosh,

our Scottish amateur
Weightlifting champion.

Several officers
of the Life Guards.



I pray for Captain James
every night.

And so do I, Mrs. Bridges.

[Doorbell rings]

Daisy, front door.

Ruby.

Well, if you ask me,
We're getting beaten

this time,
and no mistake.

Mrs. Bridges, that is tantamount
to defeatism!

We're holding our own!

Our firm grip on Hill 60,
many successful counter-attacks.

All I know is
that every day this week,

you've moved
that row of pins back.

That doesn't look
like victory to me.

A planned withdrawal
to prepare positions



isn't a defeat, Mrs. Bridges.

It is a sound strategic move.

Especially when you've got a
salient like we have at Ypres.

[Knock on door]

That gas -- it's not fair!

It's terrible, terrible!

God will descend on them
for it.

It must have been awful.

It's a wonder to me
it don't go off with a bang.

Oh, Ruby, it is not
a common coal gas

that the Germans are employing,
but a chemical asphyxiant.

Well, whatever it is, God ought
to punish them for it.

I think he will, Mrs. Bridges,
I think he will.

The Germans have forgotten one
thing, one very important thing.

The prevailing wind
is west to east.

And once we've got our gas,
whoosh!

The Hun will be hoist
with his own petard,

if I may use
a military quotation

by your greatest poet,
Mrs. Bridges.

- Mr. Hudson?
- What is it, girl?

There's a telegraph boy
at the door.

Well --

Oh, my lord.

[Doorbell rings]

Telegram for Bellamy.

Yes, boy,
yes, yes, thank you.

Any reply?

No. No.

Madam.

A telegram has arrived from --

The War Office?

From France, madam.

Well, thank you, Hudson.
That'll be all.

Madam.

Hudson!

Captain Bellamy --

Captain Bellamy's coming home
on leave today!

Oh, well, madam, that --
that is good news!

What time is he expected?

Army post office, Boulogne.

Oh, it doesn't say.

We may presume
the Captain will be here

in time for dinner, madam.

Oh, yes.
Well, I hope so.

Ruby, go into the larder
and fetch me out some sardines.

Sardines, Mrs. Bridges?
Whatever for?

Sardines on toast,
Captain James's favourite savoury,

ever since he was a little mite.

Sardines, Mrs. Bridges?

With Sir Geoffrey Dillon
coming to dinner,

and a very important General,
so Mr. Bellamy informed me.

Important General!

I don't care if it's
Lord Kitchener hisself,

he'll have to lump it.

Mrs. Bridges,
you'll never guess who it is!

Edward!

649202, Private Barnes, E.,
on leave for the weekend!

Mrs. Bridges.

Welcome, Edward, welcome.

Hello, Ruby.

Captain James
is coming home, too!

Really? So you've got a houseful
of heroes at the weekend.

That's a war for you.

Well, I will say, Edward,
you do look well.

You do look ever so well.

It's the delightful
army cuisine, Mrs. Bridges.

Do you know, we marched
from Colchester in Essex

to our new camp at Codford

on Salisbury Plain in Wiltshire
the other week?

All that way?

Well, come and sit down!

Take the weight off your feet.

Well, now, we've got
a dinner party,

but if you'd like to stay
for supper, Edward,

I'm sure you're welcome.

That's very kind of you,
Mr. Hudson.

Supper?
He'll stay as long as he likes!

His room's always
ready for him.

Edward has
a mother and father

living in Walthamstow,
Mrs. Bridges.

I'm sure his parents will be --

But my dad's down at Folkestone,
building army camps, Mr. Hudson,

and me mum's at me Auntie lvy's
in Watford

in case there's bombing.

Bombing? Oh, who ever heard
of London being bombed?

MRS. BRIDGES: You just put
your case in your room.

There's always a welcome
for you here.

You must remember, Mrs. Bridges,
that Edward

is no longer employed
as a servant in this house.

No, he's not, he's serving
his King and country,

that's what he's doing.

And God bless him for it.

Up to the dining room, Daisy,
begin to lay for dinner.

I'll give you a hand,
Mr. Hudson.

No, no need for that, Edward.

We are short-handed, Mr. Hudson.

You was only saying so
this morning.

Indeed, we are, Daisy.

Rose left yesterday for Scotland
with Miss Georgina.

Oh, so I can give you a hand
in the dining room?

Well, of course you can, Edward.

Oh, thanks, well,
I'll put my livery on, then.

Livery? You'll wear
the King's uniform, my boy.

And if them upstairs isn't proud
of you, I'll eat my boots.

Thanks, Mrs. Bridges.

Oh, we're ever so glad
to see you back, Edward.

Aren't we, Mr. Hudson?

Yes, yes, we are, Edward.

Where's your case, love?

Oh, it's outside.

Very nice
to have you back, sir.

Thank you, Hudson.

Anyone home?

Mrs. Bellamy is
in the morning room, sir.

Thank you, Hudson.

Oh, James.

I can hardly believe it.

Oh, you look tired.

Yes.

Would you like a drink?

Mm, please.

You, uh...
you got my telegram?

Yes.

Don't send
any more telegrams, James.

Why ever not?

People here have come
to dread them lately.

Oh.
Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't think.

How could you know?

Extraordinary.

It's like coming home
from school.

All those people
bustling about in the streets,

everything so clean and shiny.

Buses, motorcars, theatres.

And umbrellas -- I'd forgotten

what peculiar things
umbrellas were.

[Hazel laughs]

Was it --

well, is it -- very horrible?

Horrible, yes,
I suppose that's the right word.

But it's enormously exciting,
as well.

I mean, each time you go
into action

it's a new...a new adventure.

It's hard to explain,
but you're all keyed up

with your own men and your
friends all round you,

and the danger doesn't
seem real -- like another world.

How's Father?

All right.

Well, he's pretty well.

He's on thousands of committees
but he's chomping at the bit

because he says he hasn't
got a proper war job.

There's a lot
of plotting going on

to topple the government
and force a coalition.

Georgina's in Scotland, staying
with the McKenzies for a dance.

Rose has gone to maid her.

Dance in Scotland,
extraordinary.

- Dear Father!
- James!

How splendid!

What a lovely surprise.

I did try to get you
at the House.

Oh, I've been
all over the place today.

You're all in one piece?

Yes.
You?

Yes, yes, I'm very fit.

Good.

Well, we must make some plans.

You couldn't have come back
at a better time.

Geoffrey Dillon
and General Frankie Nesfield

are coming to dine.

Geoffrey's got himself
Well into the thick of it

as Northcliffe's lawyer,
and you know about Nesfield.

He has a certain reputation
in the army.

Now, don't underestimate him.

He's the power behind the throne
at the War Office,

and he's on our side.

Oh, I'm glad to hear that.

No, I mean politically.

He'll be damn useful
when we get back in,

which won't be long now,
by the look of things.

There's a terrible stink over
the naval losses at Gallipoli.

Fisher and Winston are
hardly talking to each other.

Yes, well, talking of stink,

I haven't had a bath
for a very long time.

Oh, my dear boy...

Two weeks, to be precise,

in a brewery in Armentières.

I'd better get
out of these clothes.

Oh, hello, Edward.

Edward!

I'd forgotten
you were in the army.

Uh, yes, sir,
Middlesex Regiment.

Jolly good.

The Diehards.

Yes, sir.

Do you know why
they're called that?

Not exactly, sir.

Put your tray down, boy,

while Captain James
is talking to you.

It was one of those battles
in the peninsular war,

Albuera, I think it was,

and your Colonel
was leading the attack

when he was mortally wounded.

And as he lay on the ground
dying, he raised himself up,

and he waved his hat,
and he shouted,

"Die hard, 57th, die hard."

So you've got quite a reputation
to live up to.

Yes, sir.

I'm just going up to change,
Hudson.

Oh, yes, sir,
your bath is ready.

Thank you.

I am ashamed of you, Edward.

Why, Mr. Hudson?

Not even knowing how your
regiment came by its name.

MAN IN DISTANCE:
Right, thank you.

Thank you, Hudson.

Will you tell Mrs. Bridges

the sardines were delicious,
much appreciated?

Yes, sir.

Nice to see your footman
in uniform, Richard.

Very patriotic.

But not too patriotic,
I am happy to note.

What do you mean, Geoffrey?

You don't follow
the royal example

in banishing all alcoholic
refreshment from your table.

Well, I'm glad I'm not
the King sometimes,

always having to set
a good example.

Need more than a war
to make me sign the pledge.

HAZEL: James.

Thank you, Hudson.

Well, some port, Geoffrey.

Thank you.

Cigars.

Now, what division are you in,
Captain Bellamy?

Oh, Third Cavalry, General.

Coping?
- Yes.

Then you must have been
in this last show as Ypres?

- Mm.
- Very unpleasant, the gas.

- Yes.
- Typical treacherous Hun trick.

Throwing the Hague convention
out of the window.

Thank you.

Well, inside
the four walls of this room,

it caused a pretty good panic
back here.

It caused a pretty good panic
out there, General.

We were resting at Val-Martin.

I was on the salient that day,
on a reconnaissance.

Suddenly we saw thousands
of these French African troops

scooting across the fields,
shrieking their heads off,

horses, mules, every damn thing,
whole corps of them.

I think the Boche was as much
taken by surprise as we were.

The Canadians
were splendid, though,

completely saved the day.

The French always panic
when anything goes wrong.

Hysterical people.

Well, our gas is ready,
and better than theirs.

I don't think it'll have much
effect on the war in the end.

- Don't you?
- Everybody in Britain

is busy making gas masks,
including Hazel.

Absolutely useless, I believe.

As usual, the soldiers have
found their own solution --

don't lie down in the trenches.

The stuff is heavier than air.
It sinks.

And I hope this won't put you
off your port,

but the thing to do is to pee
on a handkerchief

and then tie it
round your face.

Not much about that
in the newspapers, General.

And don't blame
the newspapers.

Blame the censor.

It's official policy
to feed the public pap.

If you want to know
how the war's going,

don't look at the headlines,
look at the casualty lists.

What do the troops
think of the newspapers?

Well, they just laugh.

"Our brave boys up
at the front," all that stuff.

I just happened to see tonight's
newspaper report

on our little show between
Ypres and Hill 60 last week.

"German attack smashed.

Successful counter-attack
drives back weakened enemy."

Well, as you know, General,
we were the ones

who were smashed,
if anybody was.

And they drove us back
a good mile.

But surely there's nothing wrong
with the men?

Ah, nothing at all.

They're better
than the Germans --

tougher, braver,
better soldiers.

But what remains of
the professional British army

is being squandered
by a lot of amateurs

who don't know their job.

Meaning who?

Oh, I don't mean
the Generals, sir.

I mean the politicians,
the people

who are supposed to be
running this war.

They just don't seem to realize
that it's a new kind of war.

More like siege warfare
than anything else.

A war of barbed wire,
machine guns and artillery.

Guns, more than anything else.

We had the guns
at Neuve Chapelle.

We ran out of shells
on the second day.

Grenadiers lost 20 officers and
300 men and gained...200 yards.

It's a damned scandal.

At least we printed Repington's
letter in The Times.

RICHARD:
And what did Asquith say?

"There is no truth in
the statement that our armies

are being crippled by
the government's failure

to produce
the necessary ammunition."

JAMES: Damn lie.

He was probably drunk, as usual.

If I might give you an example,
General.

Last Thursday,
when the Germans attacked,

they'd plastered us
with shells --

heavies, mediums,
everything they had.

From four until seven,
when their infantry attacked.

There was very little left
of our trenches or our wire.

And not one single British gun
of any sort supported us.

I think it was about 2:30

when the Blues made their
counter-attaok --

one solitary howitzer
started to fire.

One six-inch how,

obsolescent since
the South African war.

I saw it later,
when we were relieved.

I also saw the battery commander
sitting on a limber in tears.

That's a fine way to win a war.

James, we all know about

the shortcomings
of the war Cabinet.

That is why we Tory politicians

are determined
to replace Asquith

with a government
of all parties.

Well, I'll tell you this,
gentlemen, if any politician,

be he Liberal, Tory,
or whatever,

went up anywhere near the front
at the moment,

he'd be torn limb from limb.

I can imagine
how the men must feel,

but it isn't just
a question of negligence.

The problems are colossal.

We've got to get industry
into full production.

Yes, well, if you'll excuse me,
I only got back...

Well, of course, my dear boy,
of course.

General, Sir Geoffrey.

- Good night, James.
- Good night, James.

Good night.

That boy of yours, Richard,
is a real fizzer.

I'm glad you think so, General.

Absolutely first class.
Just the sort we want.

I must remember
to keep an eye on him.

Well, the government may not
have provided any ammunition

to blow up the Germans,
but James has certainly

provided us with plenty
to blow up the government.

Northcliffe will be delighted.

Impressions of
the Second Battle of Ypres --

eyewitness account
by gallant officer

just back from the front.

Splendid stuff.

I trust you're
not going to quote him.

RICHARD: Oh, no, no, no.

Anonymous, of course.

No names, no pack drills,

isn't that the correct military
expression, General?

Well, we're at war with Germany,
Sir Geoffrey,

not the Liberal Party.

Geoffrey, what is important is
not Northcliffe's campaign

to put Mr. Asquith's head
on a platter.

I hope our motives are more
patriotic than that.

What we need is
a more vigorous, courageous,

and efficient prosecution
of the war.

Now, that means a Tory
government or a coalition.

And we must work to that end.

Well, I strongly advise
Northcliffe

to keep off Kitchener --
he's the golden calf

of the British public
and can do no wrong.

No point in it, I agree.

Simply pull down
the circulation.

Oh, Geoffrey.

Well, tell him to drag one of
Haldane's pro-German skeletons

from the cupboard, if need be.

The readers will lap that up.

Well, there may be
little likelihood

of victory in Flanders,
at least for the moment,

but I can't help smelling

victory in the offing
at Westminster.

[Sighs]

What's the matter?

JAMES: Nothing.

How long is your leave?

Two weeks -- ten days.

If there's a gale or two
in the channel

I might be able to stretch it
to two weeks.

Would you like
to get out of London?

Mm, yes, I think I would.

Come on, let's go up to bed.

We can't.

Hmm?

Well, not until the General's --

Why not?

Just because my father
chooses to ask

a lot of his boring
political cronies to dinner

doesn't mean I can't take
my wife to bed whenever I like.

EDWARD: En garde!

That's it, come on, point up,
you're not winkle-picking.

Right, Private Finch.

Spot of bayonet practice.
Right.

I command it to you, you will
lunge at that stomach.

Ready, one, two,
and lunge and scream.

That's it.
Twist it in the guts.

Find the stomach.
Go on, find the stomach.

That's it.
And withdraw, neatly.

There you are,
dead as mutton.

Do you know, our Sergeant
killed three at Le Cateau

in as many minutes like that?

Right, Private Finch,
what have I told you?

What's the golden rule?

Uh, four inches of cold steel's

enough to kill any German
in the war.

Right.

Can I have another go, Edward?

You may not, Ruby.

All the cold steel
you'll ever need

is waiting in the scullery
for you to wash up.

Look sharp now.

And take that contraption
off your head.

Oh, she's so blinkered,
that girl.

It is inconvenient enough,
Edward,

allowing Daisy an afternoon off,

Without you unsettling
the kitchen maid, as well.

Yes, Mr. Hudson.

Yes, well, mind
you're both back by 6:00.

No later, mind.

Well, let's see, then.

Polygon wood,
Zillybeaky (Zonnebeke).

Zillybeaky?

Extraordinary,
this hate of the Germans.

Does everyone hate them?

I mean, ordinary people, not
just the hysterical journalists?

Yes.

But why hate them?

Well, I thought
you'd understand.

Belgium.

And what about the atrocities?

Oh, yes.

But you don't have to hate
an enemy in order to kill him.

I rather respect
the Hun soldier.

Even when he uses gas?

That's not his fault.

That's the fault of his leaders.

I was talking to two German
prisoners the other day,

and they were
genuinely horrified

that they had been the first
to use gas.

I'm sorry.

I don't know
what's the matter with me.

I had planned to be different.

But somehow, I don't feel I'm
living in the real world here.

I feel outside,

left behind,
in a silly sort of way.

It's as though everyone
was speaking a language

that I knew
but didn't understand.

Nothing has any flavour.

You're still in France.

Yes.

Sorry.

Time for gong.

Come on.

[Playing upbeat tune]

Have they gone to cinema,
Mr. Hudson?

So I believe, Ruby.

What a way to spend a beautiful
spring afternoon.

I've never been to the cinema.

Nor have I, Ruby.
Nor do I ever intend to.

From what I hear, a picture
palace is a very unhealthy place

and a bad, bad influence
on young people.

Well, I should like to go,
just once.

DAISY: Isn't she lovely?

EDWARD: Yeah.

Do you want to stay
and see the end of this?

DAISY: Yeah, I want to know
what happens.

Well, he'll marry her,
of course.

How do you know?

Well, they always do in films.
It's silly.

DAISY: It's not.

There you are.

I told you.

[Wagner's "Bridal Chorus"
playing]

EDWARD:
Shall we go out and buy one?

DAISY: what?

EDWARD: A ring,
for your finger.

Oh, Eddie!

I love you!
Oh, Eddie!

RUBY: "Mr. Smith
drownded one of his wives

in the bath at Blackpool

and another one at Herne Bay."

Fancy that, Mrs. Bridges!

Yes, fancy that, Ruby.

"And then he went out

and got himself summat to eat
after he'd done them in."

Oh, some people
do have strange habits.

Oh, for heaven's sake,

take that trash away from her,
Mrs. Bridges.

And let that be a lesson to you
not to talk to strange men.

I never do, Mrs. Bridges.

The streets are all dim at night
and full of soldiers.

No woman's safe.

[Giggling]

We have an announcement
to make.

Private Edward Barnes, bachelor,

and Miss Daisy, well, well,

we'll have to have
wedding bells peal,

announce their intention
to get married.

Well, bless my soul!

Thanks, Mrs. Bridges.

Congratulations, Edward.

Congratulations.

I am surprised, Edward,
that you should make

such an announcement,
even in jest,

before you have permission.

Oh, Mr. Hudson.

But why, Mr. Hudson?

My mum and dad
knew of my intentions.

The master and the mistress,
Edward.

Well, King's my master, and I
haven't got a mistress yet.

Even though you seem
to have forgotten

that you were employed
in this house for many years,

and therefore,
I would have supposed,

owe some small sense of loyalty
to the Bellamy family,

presumably you remember
that Daisy

is still employed here
as an under-house maid.

But I don't have to ask anyone,
Mr. Hudson,

except my commanding officer,

so we can get
dependent's allowance.

Well, you wouldn't like Daisy
to be turned off

without a character, now,
would you, Edward?

Well, who cares, Mrs. Bridges?

Look, there are posters
in every street

saying are women urgently
required for war work,

and a lot better pay
than they are here, too.

Edward, you have changed
in the army,

and considerably for the worse,
so it seems.

Yes, yes, now that I come to it,
I remember

when you first came here,
there was always

that nasty, wee streak
of insolence there.

Oh, Mr. Hudson.

Things are changing.

Can't you see that?

The war's changing everything.

I do not see that!

And I grieve to think of all
the years I spent

trying to instill into you some
sort of sense of propriety,

all these years have been

completely thrown
by the wayside.

MRS. BRIDGES:
Now, now, now, Mr. Hudson.

Edward didn't mean it like that,
did you, Edward?

No.

No, of course I didn't.

Well, naturally Daisy and I were
gonna go up and tell the family.

It's just the way Mr. Hudson
pitched into me like that.

Well, I've had enough of that
in the army

Without Mr. Hudson starting.

Daisy, up to the morning room.
Light the fire.

I'll go.

No, no.
You're a soldier home on leave.

You just sit down, make yourself
comfortable, smoke, if you will.

Enjoy yourself.

Daisy, better go up and change.

I do think Mr. Hudson's mean.

Nobody asked for your opinion,
Ruby, thank you very much.

Not until you've prepared all
them vegetables in the scullery.

Well, have you?

No, Mrs. Bridges.

Well, go along and do it, then.

Thanks, Mrs. Bridges.

You mustn't mind
Mr. Hudson, Edward.

He doesn't mean it.

He gets upset
very easy these days.

You see, he takes the war
very serious.

Oh, rubbish, James.

Oh, rubbish, James.

I trust you had
a nice game, sir.

Oh, yes, thank you, Hudson.

I know it's a Scottish
invention,

but I find it a vicious sport,

as well as being extremely bad
for the temper.

- Fetch Edward.
- Now?

Yes, and quickly.

Mrs. Bellamy actually beat me,
Hudson.

Ah.
Well, congratulations, madam.

Thank you, Hudson.

Sir, madam, I wonder

if I might have a word with you
on a purely domestic matter.

JAMES: Yes, of course, Hudson.

Edward and Daisy have taken it
into their heads

to want to get married.

Oh, have they?

Not a very good time.

No, sir.
I have indicated that to them.

But Edward always was a very
headstrong boy, sir,

and these days
things seem to be...

Quite, Hudson, quite.

And naturally they wish to see
you, sir, and you, madam,

to ask your permission.

Well, that, at least,
is pleasantly old-fashioned.

I thought perhaps
a few words of caution

from you, sir,
and from you, madam,

might weigh more heavily

than any admonition
offered by myself.

Yes, of course, Hudson.

JAMES: Any convenient time.

HUDSON: I took the liberty
of sending for them, sir.

Very well, Hudson,
ask them to come in.

Very good, sir.

Girl, cap.

Edward and Daisy, sir, madam.

JAMES: Ah, come in,
Edward, come in.

Well, Hudson has told us
your happy news.

Yes, sir.

Rather sudden.

Well, we've been
going out for...

well, since before the war, sir.

Ah, not so sudden.

Oh, please don't think

Mrs. Bellamy and I
have any objection.

We both wish you
every happiness.

But you have considered
the position, I suppose?

Well, yes, sir.

It's not perhaps the best moment
in history to get married.

No, I suppose not, sir.

These Germans, you know,
they're damn good soldiers.

Just at the moment,
they're fewer than us,

because they're having to fight
the Russians, as well.

But they're holding their own.

Their guns, their organization
is better than ours.

Well, of course they've been
planning this thing a long time.

Yes, sir.

It's not going to be
an easy thing.

It's going to go on
a long time.

What division
are you in, Edward?

Eighteenth Division, sir,
54th Brigade.

Mm-hmm, new army.

Well, in the late summer
or the autumn at the latest,

you'll be coming out
to join us in France,

and we're very much
looking forward to having you,

have no doubt of that.

There's plenty
of fighting to do,

so things won't be
so bad for you,

but they will be
pretty hard on Daisy.

I know, because unfortunately,

one of my more depressing jobs
as an officer

is to write to the dependents

of the casualties
in my squadron.

Well, I think, sir,

whether we was married or not,
it'd be just the same.

Well.

Well.

You both have our blessing.

And I hope you'll be
very happy together.

Thank you, madam.

JAMES: Thank you, Hudson.

HUDSON: Sir.

JAMES: Poor wretches.

HAZEL: If only people
needn't fall in love --

for the duration of the war.

[Chuckles]
You are a goose sometimes.

[Door opens]

HUDSON: Excuse me, sir.

This came by special messenger
while you were out.

Oh, what kind of special
messenger, Hudson?

A Boy Scout on a bicycle,
actually, sir.

Oh, War Office.

Thank you, Hudson.

Uh, Hudson,
did I say the right thing?

I thought your advice
was admirable, sir.

I only hope
they will take it to heart.

"You will attend war Staff
Course Number Four

at the Staff College, Camberley,

prior to being posted
to headquarters,

11 Corps BEF, new formation,

as a General Staff Officer
Grade Three."

Oh, James.

That's wonderful!

Oh, nothing wonderful about it.

Staff Officer?

I'm not going to join
the yellow brigade.

Stuck at a desk with shiny
boots, red tabs,

miles behind the lines.

Not on your life.

Well, James, I'm glad to see
you're still all in one piece.

Thank you, Colonel.

Sit down.

Are you well?
Enjoying your leave?

Yes, thank you, Colonel.

Good, good.

But, to be quite honest,
I'm not very happy

about this posting to the Staff.

Oh, yes, I have a copy
of the letter.

Quite frankly,
I'm rather surprised.

I thought you'd be delighted.

I imagined it was the result

of some judicious string-pulling
in high places.

It was nothing of the sort,
Colonel.

It's quite usual these days,
I'm sorry to say.

I apologize if I misjudged you.

But certainly it wasn't
at my recommendation.

Well, in that case, Colonel,
I would be glad

if you would ask them
to cancel the posting

and allow me to return
to regimental duty.

Yes, I see.

I've taken the trouble,

using certain private methods
known only to myself,

to discover the source
of that letter.

The Military Secretary was asked
to make that posting personally

by a very senior and influential
officer on the General Staff.

I'm sorry, but I can't reveal
his name to you.

So I couldn't possibly alter it
even if I wished,

which, as a matter of fact,
I don't.

You've seen this, I suppose?

No, Colonel.

Article in yesterday's
Daily Mail.

"News from the front.

Household cavalry officer,
home on leave,

reveals grave shortage
of artillery at Ypres."

I don't read The Daily Mail.

Nor do I, but apparently
the King does,

and he is not very pleased,
to put it mildly.

This has been brought to my
attention in no uncertain way.

Really, Colonel, I haven't
been speaking to reporters.

I would never think of it.

I honestly believe this has
nothing to do with me.

Well, I do.

You are the only officer in
the Household Cavalry on leave

who took part in the battle.

That is an eyewitness account.

All the details --
the counter-attack by the Blues,

the single howitzer gun --
it tallies more or less exactly

with other reports
of the battle.

Your father is a distinguished

Conservative member
of Parliament.

I'm sure that you are neither
so misinformed nor so naive

not to know that
just at the moment,

the Conservatives are throwing

every brick bat
they can lay their hands on

at the government
to try and force a coalition.

Yes, Colonel, I did know that.

Well, whoever wrote
that article,

the facts in it are true.

That is not the point!

Officers
in the Household Brigade

do not indulge in politics
in any form,

as you know damn well.

And I don't in the least enjoy

losing my name
to Buckingham Palace

any more than I enjoy
sitting at this desk

while the regiment
is fighting in France.

If someone picked up something
I said in private, Colonel,

I'm exceedingly sorry.

[Clears throat]

I've had a report
on the last show

from your commanding officer.

He singled you out
for special praise.

You're almost certain
to be mentioned in dispatches,

might even have been
in line for a medal.

As it is, you're damn lucky
I'm not going to ask you

to transfer to another regiment.

So take your Staff job
and be thankful.

Yes, Colonel.

Good day.

No, Ruby, not like that.

Can't you even squeeze a lemon
without putting

the pips and half the peel
into the juice?

I don't know.

You're more use to the Germans
than what you are to me,

and that's a fact.

Lemon meringue pie for dinner
tonight, Mr. Hudson.

Give Captain James
some happy memories

to take back to the trenches.

What am I to do,
Mrs. Bridges?

Clear away all that mess,
for a start,

and then get some more lemons.

There aren't any more lemons.

Well, go to the shop
and get some.

Then there will be
some more, won't there?

I don't know --

she's getting worse,
if that's humanly possible.

Well, what is it?

I believe you made a reference
just now

to the trenches, Mrs. Bridges.

Quite correct,
Mr. Hudson, I did.

I think you can forget
the trenches for the moment.

All Captain James's
uniform jackets

will have to go round
to the tailors.

What does that mean?

Is he joining the Horse Marines
or something?

Red tabs, Mrs. Bridges.

[Gasps]
Not a General?

The Staff, the General Staff,

and the strong likelihood

of a brevet majority,
if you ask me.

Oh, that's the best news
I've had since Christmas!

Well, I never did!
Oh!

Oh!

Don't wait for me, love.

Oh, why ever not?

Oh, I'm going out.

Where?
Up the pub?

Yeah, see if any
of my old mates are there.

Nobody seems to want me
around here anymore.

Oh, don't be soft.
You know I do.

Yeah, well, Mr. Hudson
doesn't, though.

He just makes me feel as though
I'm in the way all the time.

You're gonna get drunk,
aren't you?

No, I'm not.

Well, it is my last night,
you know.

Yeah, I know.

Well, don't come back
too late, eh?

All right.

- Bye.
- Bye.

Whatever's the matter
with you, Daisy?

You look as if you
was in another world.

I think I was, Mrs. B.

Well, I hope it's a better one
than this one, anyway.

"Grave news from Gallipoli.

Many casualties."

Oh...never rains but it pours.

Oh, James, you can't blame us

Oh, James, you can't blame us

for being glad that you'll be
safe for a while.

You know what you said yourself
to Edward and Daisy.

Well, it is bad, just sitting
here reading the newspapers

and waiting for a letter
or even a telegram.

I don't blame you, Hazel.

Anyway, it's nothing
to do with you.

I blame you, Father,
you and that slimy Dillon,

for abusing my good name
and using a private conversation

held in my dining room,
in the rotten cause

of building
your own little empires.

RICHARD:
That's not true.

Making me lose my name
with my Colonel.

It's bloody unfair!

And don't tell me you didn't
know all about it.

I agree Dillon should never have
quoted you, even anonymously.

But you must realize, this
article will probably do more

for the troops in France --

And, and for the party.

James.

You've done your stuff.

You've been in the thick of it
from the start.

And there's certainly
nothing dishonourable

in accepting
a Staff appointment.

Rather the opposite,
I should have thought.

JAMES: Honourable?

Being labelled
one of Nesfield's bum boys,

one of his private little
army of spies?

Well, damn Nesfield!

And damn Dillon, and damn you
for interfering, Father.

What is it, Hudson?

Sir, madam,
Sir Geoffrey Dillon has called

and wonders if you're at home.

JAMES: -No.
HAZEL: -Yes.

Please show him in, Hudson.

HUDSON: Very good, madam.

Sir.

Sir Geoffrey Dillon.

Oh, hello, Geoffrey.

Good evening.
Good evening, Richard.

Good evening, James,
and my congratulations.

A little bird
has whispered in my ear

that you've landed a plum job
on the Staff.

Well done, well done.

Thank you, Sir Geoffrey.

- Geoffrey, do sit down.
- Thank you.

Have a drink?

Well, perhaps
a little Scottish wine,

as this is
rather a special occasion.

Oh?

What's so special about it?

Thank you.

I've just come from
Printing House Square.

We've got them
on the run at last.

I have here a draft of
tomorrow's leader in The Times.

Geoffrey Dawson
let me have a copy.

RICHARD:
How does it read?

Like a death sentence
on Asquith.

"Government incapable
of fighting a war,

hampering our brave soldiers,

thanks to the obstinacy
of the War Office

in ordering shrapnel shells
instead of high explosive."

The government will never
survive that kind of attack.

If you'll excuse me,
I'm going away in the morning,

I have a lot to do.

James.

I'm sorry.

I had to get out
before I hit the fellow.

Yes, but did you mean --

are you really going away
in the morning?

Yes.

Yes, I suddenly realized
I have to get away from here,

anywhere away from this muck,
or I'll go mad.

Would you like me
to go with you?

No, no, I'd rather go on my own,
if you don't mind.

No, of course not.

You do understand?

Yes.

I do understand.

RICHARD: What with this
shell business

and the Gallipoli disaster.

SIR GEOFFREY: Yes, we're lucky,
the Gallipoli thing going wrong

just at the right moment.

Jackie Fisher's likely to
resign, I'm told.

Really?

Your boy's story couldn't have
come at a better moment.

Northcliffe's already written
to French, you know,

urging him to find some way

of making
the shell shortage public.

But of course,
as Commander in Chief,

he has to be a little wary.

Surely our troops in France
can make it public themselves.

They don't all have
the same opportunities

that James did, you know.

Daisy.

Here, what's the matter?

Nothings the matter.

What is it, then?

You're not drunk, are you?

'Course I'm not!

Shh.

I'm going to spend the night
with you.

Here?

Here? They'll skin you alive
if they catch you.

Well, they won't -- it's quite
safe with Rose being away and...

well, we might not see
each other again for ages.

Daisy?
- Mm?

- I've been thinking.
- What?

You know, perhaps Captain James
was right, you know.

Perhaps I oughtn't have asked
you to marry me.

I mean, well,
it's not really fair.

I mean, I haven't got any money
put away and...

I'm bound more or less
to get wounded or something,

the way this war's
going, and...

Well, if you was to have a baby,

they'd chuck you
out of here sharp,

no matter what they say now.

Well, that's my business,
isn't it?

I mean, I can look after myself
and the baby too, if necessary.

Oh, come on, Eddie, cheer up.

You've asked me to marry you,
and I've said yes,

and I've got a ring to prove it.

Anything else it would be
a breach of promise.

Here, move over, I'm freezing.

Cor, you are cold.

Daisy?

Mm?

Have you, uh...

well, you know.

Have you ever done it before?

Leave off.
'Course I haven't.

But I know all about it.

You don't have six in a room
in Hoxton for nothing.

No doubt you're highly
experienced,

what with all them
country house weekends

and parties and foreign maids
and that.

Oh, that was just talk,
you know.

That was just jokes.

I've never done it,
either, Daise.

Haven't you?

I'm ever so glad.

It'll be the first time
for both of us.

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