Man in an Orange Shirt

I didn't know you owned a cottage.

Why did you two never live there?

I visited once, but I never cared for it.

Anyway, it was your grandfather's.

It was really all very basic.

Goodnight.

Goodnight, dear.

My dear Flora, your photograph

is getting pretty battered with

all the travelling around in my breast pocket.

I can't tell you where we are

or much of what we're doing, of course.

Much of the countryside is so beautiful

that I have to remind the men that

we're not here on holiday.

But then, merry hell breaks out again.

I'll spare you the details.

Aim at the olive groves,

until the others get through to relieve us.

Yes sir!

Bastards got the supply lorry

before it could get through the gates, sir!

It's the driver, sir - another dead one and they shot out the tyres.

Everybody out with the others, quickly!

We need the MO!

I think this one's still with us, sir! - The MO's dead.

Put him with the rest.

Quickly!

Not another!

He was in the back with the supplies!

Christ.

Set him down gently.

I need you back at the gatehouse.

We can't have the others ambushed, do you understand?

Sir!

Don't just sit there, help him!

Sugar.

Our lives full of bloody sugar.

March.

Thomas March!

March, stay with me.

Stay with me!

March!

Captain.

You were lucky.

Your lot saved my life.

This...

This was your lifesaver.

I need to get your sketch pads

back from our CO; he's not exactly artistic.

Berryman!

Was I a beast to you at school?

Berryman!

Actually you were always very kind.

What a relief.

Berryman, a word.

Yes, sir.

- Almost! Left, left! Oi! - Watch it, watch it!

Come on, come on, get stuck in!

Who are you writing to?

Oh, a girl back home, Flora.

She's a teacher.

Oh.

I've known her all my life.

She's almost like a sister.

Not entirely.

She lost her parents in an air raid.

Just like me.

Almost there... Goal!

Goal!

Listen up, men.

This is Captain March.

He's an official war artist.

Now you're not to mind him drawing you.

His work is good for morale.

Sir.

Sir, is it true that the Hun lay on tarts for their soldiers?

Yeah, how come they get tarts and we get artists?

It's the morale back home that art can raise.

It's for your wives and girlfriends, your children.

Don't let them cheek you..

Sir?

Go on, sir.

Paint me.

Put it away, Bates.

But he's raising my morale, sir.

Bates will drive you to rendezvous point

and then you'll be driven back down to work from there.

How far to the Handover?

An hour at least.

Depending on the state of the road.

Well in that case, nature calls.

Are we likely to come under fire?

Hopefully not.

Save fuel, men. As you were, please.

The area should have been cleared.

It's bloody embarrassing, but I can't...

button my fly single handed.

Promise me that you'll come and find me?

I mean it.

Captain.

Captain Berryman!

You ought to be off, sir.

Rendezvous time's not that long away.

Of course Bates, good man.

Thank you, Bates.

Good luck.

What's so amusing, Travis?

Patroclus, miss.

Patroclus and Achilles, I don't understand.

Your closest friend is butchered in a battle

in which he wore your armour

because you disdained to fight.

You lament.

Perfectly understandable.

But they're not just friends are they?

Greek for friendship? Wickham?

Agape, miss.

Love between heroes was regarded

as surpassing the love between marriage,

but, in Sparta's...

Class rise.

Miss Talbot, boys.

We have just heard that Mr Churchill

has accepted Germany's surrender.

The war in Europe is at an end.

You may cheer, boys.

No more bloody war!

Hello.

Are you lost?

I was looking for Captain March.

Perhaps I have his address wrong.

No, no, he has the studio upstairs.

We share an entrance.

Oh.

I don't bite, unless you pay extra.

I'm Lucian: landlord, watchdog,

purveyor of shade to the gentry.

Who are you?

My name is Berryman, Michael Berryman.

Enter, Michael Berryman.

You came.

We were only demobbed from Colchester this morning.

If it's not convenient...

Don't be silly. Its...

Er...

So what are your plans?

For the rest of the evening?

Bugger all.

Good.

What about...

Sorry, I've forgotten her name.

Flora.

Flora Talbot.

She doesn't know I'm back yet.

Left here.

Left!

I haven't been here since my parents died.

I should've written.

I'm a coward.

I wrote to you in my head every bloody day but I...

I wrote to you.

Really?

Nothing ever got through.

I never said I posted them.

Tea!

Very old tea.

Fuck, the floor is cold.

I also found...

an unopened tin of shortbread.

It must be pre-war.

Good morning March.

Captain.

Thank you so much.

You haven't mentioned her all week.

It's scarcely appropriate.

Do you love her?

I...

You'll love her too.

How cosy.

Please, Thomas.

I don't understand how you can be

so matter of fact.

Does she love you?

I imagine so or she wouldn't have

agreed to marry me.

Please say yes, Thomas.

Say you'll be there at least please.

I have no family.

I don't want to be your bloody family.

I...

Please.

You have no idea have you?

What about, Thomas?

You surely didn't think that we could

set up house together like man and wife.

Please.

Just be quiet.

Let's just go back to London.

Nearly there.