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 with him.

They shot out the tyres,

- and it's tipped over in the ditch. - Put him 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.

Oh, Christ.

Set him down gently.

I need you back at the gatehouse.

- We can't have the others ambushed. Do you understand? - Sir...

Well, don't just sit there! Help him!

With me!

With me, come on!

Sugar...

The lorry's full of bloody sugar.

March.

Thomas March!

March, stay with me.

Stay with me! March!

Captain.

You were lucky.

No, your lot saved my life.

This...

This was your real life-saver.

I need to get your sketchpads back from our CO.

He... He's not exactly artistic.

Berryman?

Was I a beast to you at school?

Berryman!

Er, well, actually, you were always very kind.

Has anyone seen Captain Berryman?

What a relief.

Berryman, a word.

Yes, sir.

- Yes. - All right, then. - Pass it.

- Almost. - Stay on it.

- Left! Left! - Push it, push it! - Hey!

Come on! Come on, get stuck in!

Who are you writing to?

Oh, um, a girl back home, Flora.

She's a teacher.

Here, James!

Oh.

I've known her all my life. She's almost like a sister.

Come over here! Over here!

But not entirely.

Two left feet, you.

She, um... She lost her parents in an air raid, just like me.

Almost there, 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!

- Ready to move? - Yes, sir.

Yeah? Everybody here...

Bates will drive you to a rendezvous point,

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

So, 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, man. As you were.

Yeah, come on.

The area should have been cleared, so it's...

I could...

It's bloody embarrassing but I can't button my fly single-handed.

Oh.

Promise me that you'll come and find me?

I mean it.

Captain.

Captain Berryman!

We 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, Wykeham.

Erm... Agape, miss.

Love between heroes was regarded as surpassing the love within 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!

Eddie!

Oh!

Hello.

Are you lost?

I... I was... I was looking for Captain March,

but perhaps I have his address wrong.

No, no, no. He has the studio upstairs.

We share an entrance.

Oh.

I don't bite, unless you pay extra.

I'm Lucien -

landlord, watchdog, purveyor of shade to the gentry.

Who are you?

I'm, um... My name's Berryman.

Michael Berryman.

Enter, Michael Berryman.

You came.

We were only demobbed from Colchester this morning.

Erm... If it's... If it's not convenient.

No, don't... Don't be silly. It's...

Erm...

Ah...

So, what are your plans?

For the rest of the evening?

Bugger all.

Oh, good.

And what about...?

Sorry, I've forgotten her name.

Flora.

Flora Talbot. She...

She doesn't know I'm back yet.

Left here!

Left!

I haven't been here since my parents died.

I should have 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'd posted them.

Tea!

Very old tea.

Fuck, it feels cold.

I also found...

an unopened tin of shortbread.

- It must be pre-war. - Mmm.

Morning, March.

Captain.

- Erm, how much is that going to be? - Shall we go for six?

Thank you so much.

You've not mentioned her all week.

It was scarcely appropriate.

Do you love her?

I...

You'll love her too.

How cosy

Please, Thomas.

Yeah, 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, Tom.

Say you'll be there, at least, please.

I... I've no family.

I don't want to be your bloody family.

I...

Hmm?

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... Just be quiet.

Just... Let's just get back to London.