The Sea Shall Not Have Them

My name is Group Captain Todd.

During the I was commanded an RAF station on the east coast of England.

This is a story of some of the men of an air-sea rescue unit...

... who served under my command.

They didn't fly, but went to sea on high-speed launches.

Their job, to rescue their comrades from the sea.

Their motto:

The time is the autumn of 1944.

The allied armies are sweeping through France...

...and thrusting towards Belgium and Holland.

Go on, kids, get some sea servicing.

Shut it in and prime the port engine, can't you, Dray?

Okay, corp.

Go on, rupt yourself, do! Stand up!

- Well, what's your name? - Milliken, sir.

Who are you, what are you? Armorer, electrician, sanitary welder?

Medical orderly, sir. Told to report to 2561.

Medical orderly?

Well, what was you in civvy street, a chartered accountant?

- No, sir. - Don't call me sir.

Save your sirs for the skipper. He's an officer and knows nothing...

...and therefore entitled to be called sir.

See these?

These indicate the most important rank in the Royal Air Force.

Oy, now then. What am I?

- A Flight Sergeant. - And don't you forget it!

No, Flight.

Flight, he says. Just like that.

What the war does for the Air Force.

When I joined the service it was, "Yes, Flight Sergeant.", "No, Flight Sergeant."

Three bags full, Flight Sergeant. Stand still!

My name's Slingsby.

Flight Sergeant Slingsby. I drink blood and eat grenades.

- Morning, lads. - Morning, sir. All right, son, fall out.

- Move on, sir? On to sea? - Tell the engine to start up.

Aye, aye, sir.

Start up, below.

Okay, Dray, start them up.

- Let go springs. - Springs out, sir.

- Let go out! - All gone out, sir.

Let go fore head?

All done fore head, sir.

Fire the engine, Clarkson.

- First trip? - Yes, corporal.

- It's nice and smoothe, isn't it? - Yeah.

Just another pleasure cruise.

Come on, big time, there's no time for sleeping.

You're in the way. Over in the bunk, go on!

Robbie, I'm going to change. Okay, Chiefy.

Have some corned-beef sandwich?

Best in the world, this is.

Here, doc.

- Put that on. - Thanks, corporal.

There's an overcoat in there if you want it. It's gonna be cold.

Oh, you. You married?

- No. - Lucky you.

What's happened? We stopped.

Hey, Gus, do you reckon we'll be back on time?

- Why, are you in a hurry? - Yes, I am.

Well, we won't then.

You'd better get your head down, Doc. We've got a long way ahead of us.

Why, where are we?

We're on what's called rendez-vous.

We're going to stay here until somebody tells us to go home.

It's exciting, ain't it?

- You all right, Skip? - I'm all right, give me a hand.

- Through the hatch, sir, up above. - Right.

How are the others?

The dinghy's been ejected.

Make your way along to the wing, sir.

Will you finish buckling the belt? Get in the dinghy.

The craft's going down any minute.

Come on, Skip, let's help him.

Any more for the skylark? We got a long way to go.

You all right, Skip?

Yes, I'm all right. I got a bit of a whack in the bread basket...

- ...when we ditched, that's all. - What happened exactly?

We got poked in the engine by a Messershmidt.

But if it's any consolation, I returned the compliment.

Right now Jerry's on the North Sea, too, sitting on his own little rubber mat.

Boy, is he going to be lonely.

Do you think anyone saw us ditch, Canada?

I shouldn't think so. I didn't see any ships or anything.

- Where are we exactly? - Just off the coast of Holland, sir.

About 20 miles from the show.

And a long way from home.

Guess we'd better get organized.

- Canada, can you get that small box going? - Right.

- Mac, can you set up the aerial? - Yep.

- Would you mind helping, sir? - Oh, of course, I'm in your hands.

All I want is to get this briefcase back safely to England.

You just treat me as one of the crew.

She's going.

Well, that's that.

Makes you think, doesn't it?

If any of us had anything sharp on us,

rip, zip, and we'd be sitting on about 500 fathoms of ocean and nothing else.

Yes, sir, this little piece of rubber is all there is between us...

... and the bottom of the deep blue sea.

Come in.

- Yes, Flight? - The weather's getting worse, sir.

- I've posted two bridge lookouts. - Right.

By the way, how's the new boy?

His name's Milliken, sir.

Herbert Milliken.

- He's a bit seasick, but he'll do. - You'll get him up to standard, anyway.

- Coffee? - Thank you very much, sir.

Thank you.

- Is it true about the rumor, sir? - Yes, this is my last trip.

I'm checking out of the unit at Gosport. It's a promotion anyway.

I expect the wife's pleased. How is she?

I took her to the hospital an hour before we left.

The baby's due any moment now.

Oh, by the way, my wife made this. She asked me to give it with you.

It's a grey coat. It'll fit a boy or a girl.

It's a nice cozy one. Thank your wife for me, will you?

- I most certainly will. - How's your boy?

- Well, he's let me down, sir. - Why?

He joined the Navy yesterday.

Not again, Milliken!

I don't seem to be able to stop.

I knew a fellow once in the early days of air-sea rescue,

he were a medical orderly, too.

He died from seasickness. He strained his stomach.

Oh, it was a horrible sight.

Hi, Doc, still alive?

- How are you feeling? - Sick.

There's hot soup in the forecastle. Come on, I'll get you some.

Self-heated soup! I never touch it. I don't trust them chemicals.

Come on, chap, get up on deck, you're on.

All right, corp.

Fill your bowls with this.

When's the return to base coming through, Robb?

I'm sick of this bit of sea.

The other bits are just the same.

I never want to see another boat after the war as long as I live.

Ten men and a medical orderly crammed aboard this tub.

What's the matter, Skinner? Danger of losing a date?

Yeah, a WAF. She promised to see me last night at the station dance tonight.

I thought you were supposed to be overhauling the oil feed...

...on the port engine last night.

- Oh, I did that in 10 minutes. - I thought it was a big job.

Duke said it would take all night.

The engines got us here and they'll get us back.

Come and take this message, will you, Knox?

There you are, Skinner, the one thing you can do well.

Return to base.

- Hey, Chiefy, Chiefy! - What's up, Marshall?

There's a kite in the drink northeast of here.

Knox is just decoding them and they're not quite sure of it.

- Get up! - Return to base, Flight?

Kite the drink. Start up!

Kite in the drink, sir.

Come on boys, there's a kite in the drink.

This is it, Milliken, we're going to war.

- Ahead all speed, Flight. - Ahead all speed, sir.

4050, 2000 revs. - 4050.

Good morning.

Come in.

At ease.

- Good morning, sir. - Sit down.

- Poor show, this. - Yes, nothing further, I suppose?

We've had a signal.

The Hudson took off at 11:20.

The Air Commodore Waltby was definitely on board.

- It was that one? - Looks like it.

There's no other aircraft reported overdue.

Not so far anyway.

If they are in the drink, there's a pretty fair chance of their being picked up.

They've got to be picked up.

I've had London on the phone.

Waltby was carrying a briefcase.

It's vital that neither he nor the briefcase shall be lost.

I know Waltby's number one buff on unguided missiles but...

I wonder what was in the briefcase.

It seems our people over there got hold of some papers.

Formula, blueprints, and so on.

Waltby was sent over to identify them.

London had word from him yesterday.

He's got the follow-on to the B-1 and the B-2.

I wonder if the Jerries knew about Waltby.

And deliberately shot them down? I doubt it.

I'm going to see what's happening.

- Thanks. I'll keep you posted. - Thank you, sir.

- Ah, Dray. - Good morning, sir.

- Which is the Hudson? - Here, sir.

It's only an approximate position, of course, sir.

I can't understand why we didn't get a better one.

Flight Sergeant MacKay is a good wireless operator.

If in fact the signal came from Harding's aircraft.

Oh, quite, sir. We're only guessing.

There's still time to hear the Force landed somewhere in this country.

- Who picked the signal out? - They heard that it Fellwell and Harbury.

A weak mayday signal without a call sign...

...lasting just long enough for them to get enough bearing.

Probably Harding's last chip before he ditched.

Yes, sir.

They've apparently got Air Commodore Waltby with them, of course?

Yes, sir. Do you know him, sir?

He's my brother-in-law.