Eye of the Needle

This is Bruce Davids from London.

Around me, the city is in flames from the German bombs dropped last night

by Hitler's Luftwaffe.

The countless dead are being dug from the rubble,

and on the coast of France,

the German armies wait for this country to surrender.

But English troops are fighting back,

and in the skies, the young men of the Royal Air Force

are struggling against the Nazi forces, which, only a year ago,

invaded Poland, swept through France,

and left this country standing alone in a conflict, which, if lost,

could destroy the free world.

Very good, Sergeant Major, move the men in.

Right.

All right, you lads! Move!

Sorry, lads, mind your backs. Gangway.

Mind your backs.

Move!

I found the four extra carriages you need.

Good.

You'll have your thousand men,

unfed, but they'll be there.

I'd rather be with them than in this madhouse.

Finland appeals to you, does it?

Is it the country or the ladies?

Just a brief surge of patriotism.

You coming for a drink?

Thanks, no. Perhaps tomorrow.

Hello?

See you in the morning.

Yes.

Three that I can see from here.

Cheers.

Mr. Faber?

Hello, Billy.

I've got another interview with the Army tomorrow.

I don't think you look any older than you did last week.

Oh, but my mate Harry, he's got some cream.

He said it will take the pimples off just like that.

There's no need to rush, Billy.

There'll be plenty of war left. I can promise you.

But I want to fight now.

Everyone's in uniform except me.

Well, unless they got a special job like you.

What about the Navy, Billy?

Yeah, well, I've been thinking about the Navy,

but, well, I can't swim a stroke.

Oh, then the Air Force is out.

Why?

Well, you haven't got wings, have you?

- There you go, my love. - Thank you.

- All the best, love. - Thank you.

- Our very best. - Good luck, darling.

Thank you.

Uh, Mrs. Rose?

David, darling?

I think I'd better go and get changed.

Can I help?

No, you can't.

Well, my boy, when do you join your squadron?

- Tomorrow, sir. - Oh.

Spitfire. I saw her yesterday. Lovely kite.

All right, then, there we are.

Mama...

Oh, Mama, I'm so happy.

Oh, darling.

He is a lovely boy.

Isn't he?

Darling.

Off you go, Emma.

Both of you.

- Lucy? - Yes?

Lucy, I...

I don't know what you're expecting tonight but I...

Well, I... I think you should know that...

Mama, I do know.

Goodbye, mother.

For he's a jolly good fellow

Which nobody can deny

Bye!

Bye!

Bye!

Oi, Billy, you missed your tea.

And you, Faber. Come and have some at the pub.

Thanks, I'll just have a quick wash first.

- See you later then. - Here, Freddie, can I come?

Oh, I don't know about that.

You in the Army yet?

Tell them about that miracle cream, Billy.

Oh, yeah. Will you tell Mrs. Garden I'll be late?

My mate Harry's got this cream...

Mr. Faber, I've kept a nice piece of meat pie warm for you.

Well, we mustn't let that go to waste, must we?

Not with this dreadful rationing, we mustn't.

I'll be down in a minute.

24 hours isn't very long for a honeymoon, is it?

We can start right now. There's a bottle of bubbly down there.

So there is.

There we are. Are there glasses?

But of course. Everything supplied.

Oh, dear.

What?

Well, I was just thinking of Mother.

This afternoon she tried to tell me

what happens on a wedding night.

She's a bit late, isn't she? What did you say?

Well, I said she was a bit late, didn't I?

Henry?

Mr. Faber?

What are you doing?

It's all right.

It's just for the station.

It's classified work regarding train movements.

I shouldn't really even be telling you this.

No, no.

Listen to me for just...

No! No! No!

Trust me.

You're a spy.

Stop. Stop. God, please...

- No, no, no, no! - Listen to me. Please, don't.

It is such a lovely evening

Won't you stroll beneath the trees?

Oh, your little Pomeranian

Has seen my little Pekinese

Oh, it's just a casual meeting

Dare I give your hand a squeeze?

Oh, look! Your little Pomeranian

Has kissed my little...

Last night, the Luftwaffe's main target was again London.

Considerable damage was done to residential and industrial areas

and it is feared the loss of life will...

David, be careful. You're not in your Spitfire yet.

My God!

Dearly beloved brethren,

the Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away.

He gives us the sheep,

and we give him back the bones.

Lucy, I think I've offended your mother again.

I'm right here, David. You may address me directly.

A tantalizing invitation.

David, please.

Drink up, darling.

You'll be packed and ready, won't you?

You needn't worry. I'm ready now.

Good.

Daddy!

Mother, I apologize for David.

He finds it difficult to be with people now.

You understand.

Oh, of course, darling.

Oh, my poor girl.

Oh, no, no, no. I'm all right.

We are all all right, aren't we, Tom?

Aye, indeed we are.

Well, it's goodbye, mistress.

These are for you and your husband.

I know there isn't enough to eat in London at the moment.

Thank you, Tom.

Thank you, Tom!

Come on, Tom.

He's drunk.

Mmm!

Is he always like that?

Most of the time, yes,

but he's a good friend to us.

Anytime you want to come home, you and Jo...

No, no. My home is here, Mother, with David and Jo.

Anyway it was you who told me not expect marriage

to be uninterrupted pleasure, wasn't it?

- I'm afraid it was. - Yes, it was.

Well, at least Jo seems well.

I kissed him on the ear.

Perhaps if you have another?

Why ever not? Surely David's capable.

Oh, yes.

But he can't bear to pass me in the hallway for fear of touching me.

Come on, Lucy!

I do love you.

Now, it's not necessary to talk to father about any of this, is it?

- No. - No. Come on then.

- Bye-bye, Grandma. - Come along, Jo.

Someone's in with Muller.

Good.

We'll give them 60 seconds and then go in.

You've left a trail a blind man could follow.

We're surrounded.

Speak in English.

The Fuhrer wants you to reassess the strength

of General Patton's army in East Anglia.

It's invasion strength.

They have the aerial photographs.

General Patton is ready to invade Europe at any time,

at Pas de Calais.

- Hitler's astrologer... - An astrologer?

My God.

Well, he believes the attack will be at Normandy.

All right.

I will reassess, and I will signal in the usual way.

No.