Privates

The new contraceptive pill. What's a husband to do? Talk to his wife.

Did I mention I'm married to your Commanding Officer?

Is something wrong? I just got a message from Dr Billings.

What's he saying? He says he needs to see me.

There's nothing keeping either of us here.

We have to go to America, Jimmy.

I'll meet you at the train station at nine and don't forget

to bring my case.

Lance Corporal Hobbs tired to steal my girlfriend, sir.

I really think Private Lomax needs to be kept under observation, Sergeant.

I'll be watching him very closely.

A superior...

will never ask you to do anything he can't do or hasn't already done.

Now, ladies of two-section,

it's your turn.

Yesterday, one-section went round this assault course with

their corporal.

These are their times.

If you beat one-section's performance,

you will win my respect.

You will win Captain Gulliver's admiration and show him you're not

the waste of space he thinks.

You will also win a crate of beer, to be shared between you.

If you fail, one-section get the beer.

And you, two-section, spend the rest of the day in the mess kitchen,

polishing and skivvying and doing whatever needs doing

for the regimental dinner, do you understand?

Yes Corporal.

All right, the first man up... is...

Where the hell's White-Bowne?

Sir, it is with great regret but from a sense of duty

no less profound of that of any prospective army officer,

that I must ask leave to be dismissed.

Oh, dear.

I intend to stand as the Conservative candidate

in the up and coming by-election.

Really?

I have an interview in the next few days.

Applications for leave to be dismissed.

All from the last 18 months.

All from privates who've suddenly discovered a desperate need

to serve their country as a politician rather than as a soldier.

Really, sir? I had no idea, sir.

Because they knew that standing for political office would exempt them

from what remained of their National Service.

I can assure you that that is not my reason for standing.

Where is this by-election?

Oldham East.

Oldham East.

Northwich, Nottingham West, Oldbury... Oldham East. Hmmm...

Labour majority of 12,635.

No-one said politics was easy, sir.

This is behaviour hardly worthy of a grammar school boy. Sir!

I may be powerless to stop you crawling through this legal loophole,

White-Bowne, but don't insult my intelligence with this pretence,

dismissed! Get out of my sight.

Come on, McIllvenny!

Come on, come on! Hurry up!

Come on!

Jump!

Come on!

Go on!

Jump! Jump! Jump!

Hurry up!

Come on!

Oh, no!

That was pathetic, McIllvenny.

I hope the rest of you can do better.

Because as it stands, you're way behind one-section.

Next, Private Lomax.

Watch it, Lomax.

No funny business, yeah?

One day, this frightful business will be over...

Get on with it!

And people will laugh and dream as if nothing ever happened

but until then...

we are, after all, British soldiers.

Oh, for...

I give up.

Ready?

Go!

Would you believe it?

He's practically a bloody commando!

Go on, Lomax!

Lomax, Lomax, Lomax!

Lomax, Lomax, Lomax!

Lomax, Lomax! Go on!

Go on, Lomax!

All right.

Thank you, Alec Guinness!

I want to see more like that.

Were you watching, Wratten?

Just imagine you're shinning up a drainpipe

after Captain Gulliver's heirlooms.

Yes, Corporal.

However...

Private Lomax did not touch the top bar of the balance beam

before his descent.

This means a forfeit

to the section's overall time

of ten seconds.

That's not fair.

You didn't do that, Corporal.

Thank you, Wratten. The time penalty is now doubled. 20 seconds.

What? Come on, Corporal.

Anybody else have any observations?

No, Corporal.

Private Hoy, you're up next.

You know, much as I enjoy the idea of a beer or two

at the end of this pantomime, I can't help thinking

being stuck here is a waste of my younger years.

Well, there is a way out for you.

You could go into politics.

Sir.

At ease.

Now, Lance Corporal Hobbs.

Captain Gulliver, I would just like to apologise for the unfortunate

and completely unintentional way that... I punched you, sir.

Your absence has given you some time to think.

Running away, sir, it was a foolish act in the heat of the moment.

And I think it would be best... I just hope that in...

if we started with the lobster bisque

and possibly, although I'm open to your view,

follow with the wood pigeon.

The regimental dinner, sir? Yes. I'll need to sign off the full menu

before lunch if we're to get it up to speed. Yes, sir.

Sir?

It, er... wasn't the regimental police that brought me in.

I... I had to come back.

Because this is where you're at your best,

and here you are part of something great,

and the army is a part of you.

Sir?

I suggest the quail, not the wood pigeon.

White-Bowne's going to stand in a by-election and get exemption.

Can he do that?

He can and he will,

unless somebody else gets elected as Tory candidate.

Who, me? You really think some Jewish boy

with radicals in his family tree will really be welcome?

Why not? They opened the door to Disraeli, didn't they?

Except I know nothing about politics.

I'll teach you all you need to know.

How hard can it be?

This is White-Bowne you need to beat, not Churchill.

If you do beat him, you'll get exemption

from the rest of your National Service.

Get in line, White-Bowne.

Private Rothman, you're next.

You heard him, Rothman,

or is this all too tough for a limp-wristed highbrow like you?

OK, count me in.

Good, because your membership card arrived this morning.

Rothman, move your backside!

And I've already put your name down for the selection panel.

That's enough chitchat, ladies.

Mrs Butcher?

Yes.

Dr Billings will see you now.

Go on, Keenan! Yes!

Yes, well done, Keenan.

Not bad for a pinko, Keenan.

I'm sure you'll be setting the pace when they sound the retreat.

Private Keenan!

Grab your stuff.

White-Bowne, you're next.

You do well and you'll be neck and neck with one-section's time.

Lance Corporal Hobbs returned to the camp voluntarily last night.

Come back to rub salt in the wound, I suppose. Keenan, I'm warning you.

Any more displays like the last time,

there'll be serious consequences.

Do you understand? Yes, Sergeant.

The CO wants to bring you two together.

He wants you to bury the hatchet,

so you won't be using this.

Hmm, come on, get in. Let's get you cleaned up.

Hurry up, White-Bowne, you lazy toff!

What I need to hear before this whole ugly business can be forgotten

is that both of you accept that some hot-headed folly,

some petty crime of passion over a girl,

is of little importance

compared to the greater goals and needs of the British Army.

Is that not so, Lance Corporal?

It is, sir.

I'm sorry, Private Keenan, for what I did,

for giving you cause for grievance, for... for acting dishonourably.

Private Keenan?

I accept your apology.

Good, jolly good.

Now, let's see you two soldiers shake hands.

Thank you. Dismiss, Sergeant. Sir.

You're the last man, Wratten, everyone's relying on you to beat

one-section and win the beer.

You're going to let them all down, aren't you?

Because you're a useless, thieving lump, aren't you, Wratten?

And you'll never amount to anything, will you?

15 seconds left!

Ten, nine, eight...

Because all you are is a little gangster,

just like your thieving dad.