World on Fire

She's having Harry's baby.

When they win, their ideas win.

One idea is to kill children like Hilda.

I will get this information out.

You have led them to our door!

I'll never be safe. Anywhere.

- I'm deserting. - I think you should go back.

To war that you hate?

Take cover!

It comes as little surprise

but no less horror to the rest of Europe that Belgium,

like Poland before it, has fallen.

The Allied forces have failed to overcome

the might of the Blitzkrieg campaign, being far outnumbered,

and many British troops now find themselves cornered.

It seems they've little choice but to head to the coast,

many taking the same route as thousands of displaced civilians.

Where are we?

Due west of f... knows where.

We're heading to the coast.

That's all we need to know til we hit more of our lads again.

So we, don't, know where we are?

Shelter, lads! Keep hold of your wedding tackle!

No returning fire! No returning fire!

No!

Get down!

Whose kid is that?

Get down! Get down! Get down!

You all right?

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Heil Hitler, Herr Rossler.

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Joe, have you still got your chocolate ration?

Have you still got yours, Sir?

Claudette.

Here.

We'll drop her at the next village.

Oh! Hello, Douglas.

- Do come in. - Thank you.

You can go and look bored elsewhere if you prefer, Jan.

How's he getting on?

I can't work out if his dourness is a racial characteristic

or his personal disposition.

Not sure the Poles are a race.

Well, they aren't like us, are they?

If you ever want me to take him fishing

or go and kick a ball about, I'd be more than happy to, you know?

Anyway, I, er...

I wondered if you had seen this.

Started thinking about your Harry.

"Forsaken without warning." Well, that does sounds like Harry.

I didn't mean it was his responsibility.

At least, not this time.

I meant, er... Well, I was worried about the lad.

My lad, too. Tom.

Yes, it is very worrying.

But it also means that we'll have them home soon,

and have to negotiate with Herr Hitler.

Then we can all get back to normal.

Right. Yeah.

I thought you were a pacifist, Douglas.

Yes, I... I am.

So we're in agreement, then.

Yes.

Hmm.

Look sharp, lads.

She looks a bit like you, Private.

Are you sure you haven't been in France before?

Up to two months ago I hadn't been out of Leeds.

Must remind you of 'ome after a town's been bombed, then?

Very funny

It's just the petrol tank.

Joe, stay with her.

What's that noise? Get back.

What the hell's he doing?

Guinness... Guinn... is good for you.

Guinness. Guinness is good for you.

Guinness is good for you. Guinness is good...

Guinness is good for you.

Come on.

What's your name, mate? Your rank?

Geoff... Geoff.

Geoff.

Geoff.

Geoff!

Geoff... Geoff.

Is that a stripe I see on your arm?

Where's the rest of your unit, Squadron Leader?

Answer the Lieutenant!

All right, Sergeant, we're not going to shout it out of him.

He might be a Jerry, sir. Nicked one of our lads' uniforms.

He just told me his name is Geoff.

Well, he's hardly going to say it's Fritz, is he, Sir?

Sarge! Sir! Better take a look!

Oh, Bertie Bollocks!

Bertie Bollocks, indeed.

You've just got to get in between them two sticks, OK?

Right, come on, then.

Ignore her.

Come on.

Oh, right through me legs!

Whoo, good shot!

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Heads up, lads, I'm giving the windscreen a quick clean!

Jack! Fuck's sake! You're making me look like a right clown!

Come back, hey?

Come back.

Come sit down.

Over there with the others.

Tell you what, you sit with the mad lads,

I'll go take a look at the engine.

You're all right.

So, what's the darkies' tale?

They got separated from their unit at Ypres.

They've been helping look after the shell-shocked lads.

"Shellshock"", that's what they're calling it, is it, sir?

What do you think is going on here, Sergeant?

Are you saying these men aren't shell-shocked,

or are they all undercover Nazis like Geoff?

One or two'll be swinging the lead. Stands to reason.

Let that be on their consciences.

We just need to find a way to get them to the next field hospital.

Even the darkies?

Can't we just leave 'em here?

They're not injured. They're not even ours.

You can cut it out now, Sergeant!

I won't tolerate you talking about men

who are fighting on our side as though they are disposable.

Do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Right, sir.

Just been talking to a family back up the road, sir.

They're leaving. Said they'll take the girl.

Happy now?

We traded a girl and a dog for two Africans

- and a truck full of loonies. - Couldn't be happier

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Got a lot of colour in the lad's cheeks, that's for sure.

True.

And I'm sure my flowerbeds will recover in time.

Right, yeah.

Sorry about that.

Well, er, we'll stay in touch, then, eh?

Will we?

Is that the protocol?

Well, yeah, it can be.

And, er, we'll see how this little rum 'un gets on, eh?

Yes, yes.

The "rum one" will always be pleased to see you.

Right.

We haven't declared war on the French, have we, sir?

Not so far. But I wouldn't put it past us.

One of the mad lads in the back thinks he's Napoleon,

so we could always ask him.

The town is still in French hands, but they don't know for how long.

We can't get any radio contact

but there's a casualty clearing station where we can get you seen.

Me, sir?

What about, sir?

That wound you've been keeping from me.

What wound is that, sir?

The one that has you touching your gut every five minutes

as though you've had a bad pint or five at lunch.

I can walk off a bad pint, sir.

You get it looked at here, or I order you to stay here.

Up to you.

I think I liked you better when you were a soft touch, sir.

Pardon.

I'm beginning to wish I was one of the loonies now.

Who's in charge here?

Who is in charge here?

- That's probably me. - You're American?

Webster O'Connor, American Hospital in Paris, Field Hospital B.

- Pleased to meet you. - I have eight traumatised men.

I need to get them on a hospital ship.

Well, when you find that hospital ship, then let me know

and I'll send eight of mine with them.

Otherwise they'll end up prisoners of war.