Who the hell is he trying to kid?
Hello? Hello, Abbeville?
What? But if you cannot place them, advise Paris.
I'm at my winds end, but carry on.
Reinforcements, sir?
Why don't you cut out the clowning?
- Me, sir? What have I done? - Don't ever let me see you...
doing a victory roll over my airfield again.
I thought it would buck up the civilians.
For God's sake, Jamie, give your brain a chance.
Corporal, refuel them immediately!
Yes, sir.
So anyway, he hit me and made me nose bleed...
Corporal, I don't mean with your blood.
I gave him a couple of socks...
And re-arm them.
Yes, sir!
Hello, Harvey. Where's Jumbo?
Posted missing last night.
You acting C. O.?
Oh, yeah. Of what?
Five serviceable aircraft. No spares. No contact.
First we knew the bastards would overrun us...
was when we tried to land.
But yes, I hear you very well.
Eh? What?
Are you sure?
They are at Sedan?
For the benefit of the uneducated among us...
I shall translate.
Archam can't believe that Sedan's fallen. I can.
It's no use. They'll be here in half an hour.
We must leave immediately.
Yes, let's get the hell out of it.
Where to, sir?
Why don't you follow me and find out? Come on, idiots.
After you.
Unless they've got there before us.
Get that buzzard out of here! We'll go with what we've got!
All right. Forget your kit. Let's move.
Get all the transport you can and get the men out of here.
All N. C. O. S report to me immediately!
You know what to do with the lame ducks?
Yes, sir.
Bombs away.
All the yanks, over here!
Load 'em up!
Over the wing.
Flood the cowling.
Plenty of it.
Right! Stand clear! Into the trucks!
Come on! We haven't got all day!
"To the permanent Secretary of State for air...
"Sir, I have the honor to refer to the very serious calls...
"which have recently been made upon fighter command...
"in an attempt to stem the German invasion...
"of the continent.
"I hope and believe that our armies may yet be victorious...
"in France and Belgium...
"but we have to face the possibility...
"that they may be defeated. In this case...
I presume that there is no one who would deny...
"that England should fight on...
"even though the remainder of the continent of Europe...
"is dominated by the Germans.
"I must therefore request...
"That not one more fighter be sent across the channel.
"If the home defense is drained away...
"in desperate attempts to remedy the situation in France...
"defeat in France will involve the final, complete...
"and irremediable defeat of this country.
"I have the honor to be, sir...
"your obedient servant, H. C. T. Dowding."
Air Chief Marshal Dowding, sir.
You do realize, Dowding, the position this puts us in?
I realize that the French have been promised this squadron.
By Churchill personally.
He's given the French prime minister his word.
You do appreciate, Dowding...
that Churchill will have to see this?
That's why I wrote it.
This is the BBC home service.
Here is the news.
In the House of Commons this afternoon...
the prime minister, Mr. Churchill, said...
"What General de Gaulle called the Battle of France is over.
The battle of Britain is about to begin."
Eyes right!
I welcome you in the name of the Second Luftwaffe, General.
Thank you, thank you, Kesselring.
- My dear Fink. - General.
Everything all right?
We are ready, General. We can start.
Very well, gentlemen, then forward.
Attention!
Eyes right!
Call out the guard!
Attention!
If I have to inspect one more bomber...
I won't recommend you for a Field Marshal, Kesselring.
Please, may I finish the inspection?
Certainly.
Sir.
Pleasant return journey.
The English are not ordained by fate to be our enemies.
You heard it yourself, Jeschonnek.
This time he's wrong.
They are completely finished... done for.
We'll never have a chance like this again.
Absolute nonsense!
Nonsense, do you call it? It's a pure catastrophe.
Herr Baron von Richter.
The Fuehrer will speak to you now.
My dear Max!
How lovely to see you back in Switzerland so soon.
I came straight from Berlin an hour ago.
The ambassador will see you now, sir.
Thank you. Excuse me, please.
Sir David, I'm again instructed...
to emphasize that the Fuehrer wishes...
to avoid further bloodshed.
England is not our natural enemy...
and he offers guarantees for the British empire...
if you give Germany a free hand in Europe.
Goering and his Luftwaffe would like to flatten London...
as a prelude to invasion.
It's two lumps you take, isn't it?
What's left of your army...
abandoned its weapons at Dunkirk.
You're defenseless and just playing for time.
We know of the moves you're making in Washington.
We know the Americans won't be drawn in.
Their embassy in London gives you two weeks.
So what's stopping you?
Look, David. The Fuehrer is being very reasonable.
He offers guarantees.
Experience shows the Fuehrer's guarantees guarantee nothing.
What about Churchill?
After our last appeal, what do we hear?
"We will fight them on the beaches."
With what?
Winston gets carried away sometimes.
With liquid courage.
That's what they tell me.
Clearly, you don't know him.
David, we are not asking for anything.
Europe is ours.
We can walk into Britain whenever we like.
If you think we're going to gamble...
on Herr Hitler's guarantees, you're making a grave mistake.
All those years in England seem to have left you none the wiser.
We're not easily frightened.
Also, we know how hard it is for an army to cross the channel.
The last little corporal to try it came a cropper.
So don't threaten or dictate to us...
until you're marching up Whitehall!
And even then we won't listen.
Heil Hitler.
It's unforgivable.
I lost my temper.
The maddening thing is that he's right.
We're not ready.
We're on our own.
We've been playing for time.
And it's running out.
Silly bitch!
He's calling you names again, Harold.
I spent half a week settling her and the kids in the country...
and now, "I'm bored," she says!
One of your elite trying to land without wheels.
Boomps-a-daisy.
It's enough to make you weep.
And welcome home, sir.
Undercarriage lever a bit sticky, was it, sir?
Yes, as a matter of fact, it was.
Well, I wouldn't tell the C. O. That, sir, not if I were you.
You can teach...
monkeys to fly better than that!
I'm terribly sorry about that, sir.
- It won't happen again. - Keep your jacket on, boy.
How many hours have you done in spits, Simon?
On spits, sir? 101/2.
We'll make it eleven before Jerry has you for breakfast.
Spring chicken to shite hawk in one easy lesson.
Attack, attack, attack...
This is Rabbit Leader. Are you receiving me?
Hello, Rabbit Leader. Red-3 on 3.
Receiving you loud and clear.
Right. I'll try and get on your tail...
and I want you to take evasive action. Understood?
Hello, Rabbit Leader.
Red-3 on 3. Understood.
Attack, attack, attack, attack, attack, attack...
Hello, Rabbit Leader.
I thought you might come in from the sun.
Don't think. Don't just glance.
Look! Search for the bastards!
And never fly in a straight line, or you're a dead duck.
- Sir. - Now, let's try it again.
Or, in other words, beware of the Hun in the sun...
who, for reasons best known to himself...
has confined his recent attacks to our channel convoys.
However, this won't last forever.
But it has given us a chance to pull ourselves together...
and to train people like you.
As fighter controllers, you'll be joining an organization...
which, thank the good Lord...
was not rushed up hastily yesterday.
It'll be a pain in the neck to the enemy when he comes.
It's the joker up our sleeves.
Now, the R. A. F. Chain shows us where they are.
The information is passed to group...
group scrambles the necessary squadrons...
and you, at sector level...
guide our chaps to the interception.
It's been tried and tested. It works.
So don't blame the system if you're no good.
Now, clearly, 11 Group here...
will bear the brunt of the battle...
as those of you who are posted there...
will find out to your discomfort.
12 Group is our second line of defense...
and covers the industrial midlands and the north.
13 Group, Scotland and the northeast...
and 10 Group, the west of England.
More than half the fighter-command squadrons...
are stationed here at 11 Group...
near the coast where we expect the invasion...
and also able to protect London...
which is as far as the bombers can get with fighter escort.
But I think we can leave strategy...
to those with egg on their hats.
Attention!
Please, gentlemen, the Inspector General has just arrived.
Here.
Thank you, Captain.
Ah, my dear Foehn. You are well?
- Yes, thank you, General. - And Falke?
Yes, thank you, General.
May I introduce my brother Hans, sir?
Another fighter ace perhaps?
When I get the chance to fight, General.
General.
We have borrowed this.
- Dover? - Dover.
Those masts are their radio direction finders?
Yes. Their secret weapon.
Which we captured at Dunkirk.
Our Stukas can deal with them.
Excuse me, General, but why?
If they know we're coming, so much the better.
We don't have to look for them.
The pilots are in excellent spirits, General.
I have eyes in my head, Osterkamp.
I merely wanted to say, General...
we shouldn't wait too long.
It may happen sooner than you think.
Please, gentlemen.
Come, Falke.
Thank you, General.
This delay is an incredible piece of luck.
I mean, they roll up France and then stop.
They could've come right on.
You know, our latest intelligence...
is that Herr Hitler is sightseeing in France.
'Tis rather pleasant weather.
Oh, no, I mean it. He's on holiday.
I'm not complaining, Minister.
No, no, no, seriously, Dowding...
the morale factor is vital.
I saw Beaverbrook on Monday.
Now, he's going to be able to deliver...
as many as a hundred fighters a week.
Well, after seeing you...
I want to be able to go back to the cabinet...
and tell them you're as confident as I am.
Damn it, man, we've got 650 planes.
And they have 2,500 aircraft, haven't they?
They won't all come over at once, and we have radar.
Churchill puts great faith in radar.
It's vital, but it won't shoot down aircraft.
I must say, you don't exactly exude a spirit of optimism.
God willing, we will hold out, Minister.
I see. So I tell the cabinet...
that you're trusting in radar and praying to God... right?
More accurate the other way around.
I'm trusting in God and praying for radar.
But the essential arithmetic is that our young men...
will have to shoot down their young men...
at the rate of four to one if we're to keep pace at all.
It's the oil pressure, sir, but the gauge is being checked.
- All right, Charlie. Carry on. - Thank you, sir.
Never give up, do you, Charlie?
Instrument check, sir.
I hope your new C. O. Believes you.
He's going to be one of your headaches now.
They know the orders... don't tangle unnecessarily.
So it's "May I do an engine check, sir?
"Or an undercarriage check or a radio?"
Any excuse to get at the Jerries.
At least it shows they're keen.
Yeah, they're a good bunch.
God knows what I'll find in Scotland.
A lot of kids with down on their cheeks.
Yeah, training them to be fighter pilots...
is a damn sight more dodgy than fighting Germans.
Well, you've got to earn that new stripe somehow.
At least I got three days in town.
Give my regards to your wife.
Thanks.
May I have a word, sir?
Send us back a haggis.
If you want permission for a test flight...
the answer is no.
Large scotch, please.
You with that lot down the road, sir?
No.
One and six, please.
- Thank you. - Thank you.
Have you applied for that post in Scotland?
- Darling, I can't. - You can't.
You know I can't.
- You mean you don't want to. - Can't. I've got a job.
What have we got? What the hell is this?
Is it a marriage or a flaming air force committee?
For God's sake, Colin, don't start that all over again.
I knew this would happen.
I never wanted you to join up... never.
Colin, please, try to behave as if I were a human being.
You look more like a parade-ground suffragette to me.
I'm just not cut out to wave a wet hankie on sooty stations.
For God's sake, who's asking you to?
We'll be in Scotland together.
I never could stand marching women.
You couldn't care less, could you?
I cared enough to come here fifty miles.
I didn't measure it.
I did.
I even booked a room.
Three days.
It would be marvelous.
Are you going to apply for that posting or not?
Left, right, left.
Right, left, right, left, right.
Squad, halt!
Right turn!
Order arms!
Now, wait for it.
Squad...
dismissed!
Come on, Albert, you're not dead yet.
- It's his turn. - You'll be lucky.
Twelve pints, please, Fred.
One for the sarge.
Let him get his own.
No, sir, it's not Charlie.
It's some Hurricane out of juice very likely.
Right. Call me directly you hear anything.
Well, somebody must have spotted him.
He can't just disappear.
All right, I'll hang on.
Sir, it's Air Vice Marshal Park.
That's all we need now.
Jamie, hang onto this.
Good afternoon, sir.
Tell your men to relax.
How are they making out, Canfield?
Half the squadron are new pilots, sir.
That's why you were sent here, to lick them into shape.
They get less warning here than any other station...
so they must learn to get up from standby...
in two minutes flat if they're to intercept the enemy.
Hello. Dispersal.
Right.
Stand down, "A" flight.
Yours?
Yes, sir.
The chaps spoil her.
All right, Canfield, what's up?
You have a pilot missing.
Yes, sir.
Over the channel.
Is he much overdue?
Over two hours, sir.
I thought I'd made it clear we're too near the enemy...
for pilots to go swanning around on their own.
We can't afford to lose them this way.
What's the excuse this time, undercarriage check?
Instruments, sir.
We've all done it, but that's no excuse.
What's his name?
Pilot officer Lambert, sir.
Gerhardt, my bath!
Yes, certainly, Major.
Do me a favor. Not now, Papa.
These are the day's instructions for the Luftwaffe...
- and they must go off today. - All right, if I must.
I know, you have just found it.
That doesn't concern you. Hurry up, old man...
because my evening meal will not wait for you.
In exactly five minutes, we drive to Boulogne, OK?
Hans, look after Major Foehn.
Good evening, sir. May I lead the way?
Certainly, my boy. Lead on.
Don't let him near the wine cellar!
What's the best way to evade a Spitfire, Major, shallow dive?
And curving in at the same time.
But excuse me, Major, my brother says...
a Spitfire can outmaneuver a 109.
When we are in England, let him take up a Spitfire...
and prove it to me in my 109.
Done! But don't forget your life jacket!
I said look after our guest, Hans, not drown him.
Major Foehn doesn't think much of the shot-method.
If you would teach your boys to shoot a little sharper...
the problem wouldn't arise.
Excuse me, Jafu II. You are to report to Wissant.
- What, now, Papa? - Immediately.
And Major Foehn also.
I think I know why we've been asked to go to Wissant.
This is it.
Gentlemen... Eagle Day!
The destruction of the Royal Air Force on the ground.
Zero hour for takeoff 7:15 A. M.
Our targets today in southern England...
are the following airfields.
Manston, Biggin, Kenley...
Dover, Hawkinge.
It is our task to destroy the R. A. F. On the ground.
There'll be nothing left for us.
Don't worry, gentlemen...
our omnibus drivers won't be able to destroy everything.
Some Spitfires will remain, anyway.
Even for you, Bruno.
Therefore, gentlemen...
fly in at maximum height and make good use of it.
And try not to land in the Channel.
Especially use your eyes and watch your petrol gauges.
Remember, you've only got thirty minutes over there.
Come on, chaps.
Away, I'm here.
Hostile 2-3.
Morning, all.
Bearing 1-8-6, range thirty miles.
Twenty plus.
Height, six thousand.
Yes, Danmoor, I confirm.
No I. F. F.
Hostile 2-9, now thirty plus.
Yes, Danmoor, I confirm.
Recheck I. F. F., please, Bentmarle.
Sorry to call you in, sir, but something's building.
2-8 now forty plus.
Convoys?
None due through until tonight, sir.
Hostile 3-1 forty plus, 1-6.
Better bring more squadrons to standby.
Right, sir. Get me Beacon Hill.
Reconfirm Hostile 2-3.
Hostile 2-3, 1-8-0.
Getting interference again, sir.
Not now, corporal, not now.
That's better.
Five miles.
I'm afraid the raid is entering my ground range, Danmoor.
Stukas.
Get them up.
43 Squadron, intercept Hostile 2-1.
That was Danmoor, sir.
Ventnar radar out of action.
Who's covering Dover?
54 Squadron, sir.
6th Squadron's airborne, sir.
Too slow. Some of them took six and seven minutes.
They'll have to do it in two.
Tallyho, Velvet Leader!
Down there on the left.
Stukas!
Roger. Here we go.
Attacking now.
Yellow section, keep your eyes peeled for the escort.
Spitfire!
Easier to hit than a barn door.
It's like shooting rats in a barrel.
You'll be in a barrel...
if you don't watch out for the fighters.
What's the matter? Can you hear me?
Ventnar, and now Dover's out of action.
- Our plots are drying up. - Then we're blind.
So now we've only got the observer corps.
This is only the beginning.
They won't stop now.
Heinkels.
Make it a hundred plus.
Hello? Hello? Heinkels, hundred plus.
Yes, Center. Still going north.
Height?
Twelve thousand.
Dispersal.
2 Section, scramble!
Look alive!
Engine trouble!
Lookout.
Right.
Muck and filth everywhere, Mr. Warrick. It's like a pigsty!
The cooks don't come on till 6:00.
Well, you've got some defaulters. Put them onto it.
Come on you lots, move!
You'd be there fast enough if it was real!
At the double!
Oh, my God.
Section Officer Harvey!
Sir.
I've noticed that some of your girls...
are now using the men's trenches during air raid practice.
- It's got to stop. - Sir.
And another thing... gas mask cases...
they're for gas masks. They're not handbags.
I do realize, of course, that female requirements...
differ somewhat from the male.
Nevertheless, that's no excuse to...
God's teeth!
Take cover!
Bastards.
At least we know what Jerry's going for.
All our airfields, unfortunately.
It's a squadron scramble, sir.
Don't be wet. Get me the duty controller.
We've only just come down. We're still refueling.
Don't just stand there! Get one up!
Corporal Johnson!
Engine blocks away!
Rest of you men, in the trenches!
Talk about a hairy takeoff.
- I saw Jimmy buy it. - Did Archie get off?
Oh, I'm with you old boy, but I've left my stomach behind.
Ah, shut up, will you!
Rabbit Leader to Cowslip Control.
Do you read me? Over.
For Christ's sake, Cowslip, wake up, will you?
Rabbit Squadron airborne.
Close up, Red-2!
Stick to me like glue, Simon.
Rabbit Leader, sorry about that. This is Cowslip.
About time, too. Where'd they go?
Bandits now twenty miles east of you heading southeast.
Sector 1-2-0 and make Angels 2-0.
We'll go, Cowslip.
Rabbit's turning port... now.
Come in, Red-2. Where the hell are you?
Where the hell are you, Simon?
You, lads, pull yourselves together!
Get moving! Get another shovel!
Bates, pull yourself together.
Stay with them, Seymour.
It's all right. I'll see to it.
How about two hands over here, Officer?
Run the hoses out over here!
Put that cigarette out!
The mains have gone! Can't you smell gas?
Don't you yell at me, Mr. Warrick!
Here, you men!
Don't stand there looking at it, you idle shover!
You! Get me some stretchers and the orderly.
- Ma'am. - Fast!
You can stand some of the girls down now, Corporal.
Jones, Whitman, clear up that mess.
Then you can take five minutes.
43, stand down.
1-1-1 released.
5-0-1 are down at Tangbear.
They couldn't get in at Big Wing.
Few more days like this...
and we won't be able to get them down anywhere.
I suppose we could always pull them all back...
north of the Thames, out of range.
That is precisely what they want us to do.
This is the BBC home service.
Here is the 9:00 news.
Large formations of enemy aircraft...
today attacked targets in southern England...
but the enemy's aerial armada came in for heavy punishment.
Over forty-seven German planes were destroyed...
with a loss of only fifteen of our own aircraft.
Six of these pilots were saved.
Several R. A. F. Aerodromes were also attacked...
and some casualties were sustained...
but they were light.
Colonel.
Good. Very good.
The weather is constant.
We have a stabilized high pressure zone...
and we'll make use of it.
The proof, gentlemen. We are destroying...
as many planes on the ground as in the air.
Thank you, Schmidt. On the desk, please.
Reichsmarschall Goering will certainly be interested...
in my report.
To date, almost 300 planes have been destroyed.
Almost half the entire British fighter force, gentlemen.
The Colonel can report what he pleases.
The fact remains...
that our bombers continue to be intercepted.
Because the English are now bringing in their reserves.
As from tomorrow, we'll increase our attacks on these airfields.
And five Luftwaffes will attack the north and north-east.
But that is outside the range of our fighters, Colonel.
Also outside the range of the English fighters.
Not even a Spitfire can be in the north and the south...
at the same time.
How far are we from the coast?
Everybody, Action Stations.
Tomato Heinz to all. Tomato Heinz to all.
Another ten minutes to target.
All ready at Fighter Stations.
Another ten minutes to target. End.
Look! Spitfire!
Help yourself, everybody. There's no fighter escort.
There! Right behind us!
Soapbox Leader, break it off.
Home and tea.
For once you deserve it. Well done, everybody.
Heinkel, three-second burst.
Starboard engine. Ruddy great flamer.
Any identification marks?
Yellow stripes on the wings.
Wing leader. See it go down?
Did I? Nyaow... plunk!
Hmm. Graham and Jack will confirm your story.
That's three of you who got him.
1/3 of a kill, laddie, 1/3.
Sir.
- What did you hit? - A Heinkel.
- Anyone see mine go in? - Didn't know you were with us.
Well done, Peter.
Only 1/3 of a one, sir.
Oh, that's better than nothing.
I used to blast away and never hit a sausage.
One thing though...
What's that, sir?
It takes us two years to train people like you.
Suppose your controls had been damaged.
What would've happened to that idiotic victory roll?
You'd have been spread all over the damn field...
like strawberry jam. Never again. Clear?
Yes, sir.
Something to make Stuffy's day.
The old man's just gone down to the OPs room with Sasha.
Final figures of the northern raids...
twenty-three without loss.
Jolly good. I'll show it to him.
Right.
We're getting 6 volunteer pilots from Coastal Command...
and from the Fleet Air Arms, sir...
five from each of the Fairday battle squadrons...
and three from army cooperation.
That's thirty, is it? Not enough.
We lost that many yesterday.
And the air staff hesitate to weaken the light bombers...
in case of invasion, sir.
We need pilots now.
What about the foreign squadrons under training?
Czechs, Poles?
I know your feelings about the language difficulties.
They don't understand a word that's said over the air.
They're a menace to themselves and us.
I'll try and cut more corners off the training program.
Pilots are doing well...
enemy losing at the rate of two to one...
then he can afford to, can't he?
Never sends more than half his bombers at one time.
We must find more pilots...
...or lose!