World on Fire

Where's Mosley?!

Come on!

Mosley!

Blackshirts! Blackshirts!

Blackshirts! Blackshirts!

Blackshirts! Blackshirts!

Blackshirts! Blackshirts!

Harry!

Harry! Stop!

This is all we have to fear.

Take a good look.

The Jews, the communists!

Get back to the sewers, you fascist rats!

You know why I'm here.

And you know who I'm here for.

You've got a daughter going bad ways,

- just like your son, then... - Where the hell is she?

Now, now, that's no attitude

for a peace pledge man, is it, Mr. Bennett?

Just, uh, giving her a couple of hours,

so that she can learn a lesson, you know.

- We'll not be charging. - What lessons that, then?

That you'd rather lock up a girl

than a bunch of bloody fascists?

Is that it, that the lesson?

So that's where she gets her manners from, is it?

Out!

How many Blackshirts have you arrested, eh?

How many?

Hello, Dad.

- I'm sorry. - You too.

No need to apologize, love.

It's this lot, they should be apologizing.

I told you.

Thanks, Dad.

Well, my.

What a touching vignette.

If only Hogarth was still alive to capture it.

Hello, Mother.

Hey,

you should be really proud of your son.

You're the father, are you?

Aye, I am.

I see, that explains it.

My daughter's her own woman.

Indeed.

Thank you, sergeant,

for being so understanding.

Harry, we have guests waiting.

Go on.

You always were a sentimental boy,

always looking for something or someone

to fill the void.

Hardly surprising a factory girl

- would turn your head. - Lois.

- Her name is Lois. - Well, well.

My son, the diplomat.

I'm not a diplomat. Just a translator.

Modesty is an ugly trait in those with the ability to shine.

Do you want to shine, Harry?

Of course you do.

I love you.

You say that,

and it's lovely,

but it doesn't really make any difference, does it?

Makes all the difference.

You're going away.

I'm not.

Your world, mine.

This was good.

What we did tonight.

But I think we both know, don't we, deep down?

I'll write.

Goodbye, Harry.

Halt!

Jawohl!

_

What am I doing here?

I'm an American journalist.

I have every right.

What are you doing here, young man?

A German soldier on Polish soil?

I don't think so.

_

The world has averted its eyes

to the build-up of German troops

along the German-Polish border

and Hitler's threat to take Danzig by force.

The Poles have bicycles, the Germans have tanks.

Make no mistake,

the Nazi Party is a master of illusion,

and the greatest illusion of all

is that they are seriously negotiating for peace.

This is Nancy Campbell,

American Radio International, from Warsaw.

Look at the state of this.

You said you only needed it for shopping.

Shopping was in Germany.

Bloody hell, Nancy.

This is what I've been trying to tell you.

The Nazis are so close to the border,

- they shot at me. - Well,

you do rub people up the wrong way.

They are shooting some poor bastards,

putting them in Polish uniforms

to make it look like the Poles invaded.

Does that sound like a diplomatic solution?

Do you know what the Poles have got?

Bicycles.

You know what the Germans have got?

Tanks. Panzers.

I reported on David versus Goliath in Spain.

It didn't turn out like it did in the Bible.

I'll talk to my boss first thing tomorrow.

But I don't know if he'll listen to me.

Well, we know he won't listen to me.

God knows I've tried. In the meantime,

warn your waitress friend, so she can get out.

I have a nephew in Paris.

I'm telling him the same. Thin walls in that hotel.

I know more than I need to

- about you two. - Kasia? The waitress?

Jesus, yes, Kasia.

Why?

Is your girl at home a waitress too?

No.

No, she's not.

We're going to be late.

We said half-past.

Connie, we are the glamour.

They expect us to be late.

The glamour needs to run for the bus, so in your own time.

Dad!

Come on!

You'll be getting me sacked.

Thanks, Douglas, you're a saint.

That's not what they're calling me.

Thanks, Dad, I'll pay you back when I'm famous.

I need the German offer of terms

translated from German to Polish and English,

the Polish response from Polish to English,

English War Office draft telegrams

into Polish and German. My desk, one hour.

You are the golden boy, Chase,

it's about time you started proving it.

Ah!

_

- What, what did he say? - Stop teasing him.

Sorry, Harry.

What sort of camera is that?

It's a Leica.

Ah, German-made.

When Harry clicks the shutter,

perhaps we should all duck.

_

My friends died in 1918 freeing Danzig from Germany.

I'm not going to let the Germans have it back.

And what an adventure, boy?

Yes.

_

- Okay. - Wait!

- Wait... - No, no, no, Stefan.

Wait, we are missing something.

I'll look after my father

even when he thinks that he's looking after me.

What do you call these again?

- Gold Flake. - Gold Flake.

Gold Flake, okay.

_

Weapons for two brave sons of Poland.

_

That is very much the intention.

Right,

this time...

Ready?

Smile.

Is it working?

Hello, Dad.

Hello, love.

I'm looking for your brother.

Me too.

If you find him before I do,

will you tell him he's in trouble?

- They like you. - Good.

I like them.

That is good to know.

_

Is there something you want to tell me, Harry?

Well, uh...

Oh, well, I'm very fond of your daughter.

I was asking about the war.

Are the British Army going to help us?

Are the Polish Army going to help you in Danzig?

We've got enemies at every border.

Our people in Danzig need help.