Begin. This is off speed.
Check 5-0-1 back at ready desk...
I think you ought to see this, sir.
Thank you.
Air raid warning.
Sector Three Red.
Rabbit Squadron.
Tallyho, tallyho, Red Section.
We'll take the rear starboard.
Yellow, you take the port.
Yellow-1 Wilco.
Tallyho, Yellow.
Amaliel, keep your eyes open for the Red Squad.
Rabbit Leader, Red-3, you're on those bastards...
Six o'clock high. Coming down now.
Roger, Red-3. I see them.
Rabbit, brave right and climb.
Behind you, Andy! On your tail!
Get out, Andy!
Jump!
Hurry up! Out!
All out!
Don't any of you Joes talk English?
Corporal!
Sir!
Where are you taking those vultures?
Officers to the mess, ensigns to the guard room, sir.
Like hell you are. They're responsible for all that.
- Get them to clear it up. - But what about the officers?
Give them a bloody shovel.
Come on, step with it!
Skipper hates Jerries.
He'll hate me if you don't get that gun repaired.
Then wrap up this little lot.
Only eight for the morning?
Got to do better than that.
Five are write-offs.
One has another guard gone, and two are missing, sir.
Mr. Anthony and Sergeant Moore.
And these two are hundred-hour checks.
They've been at it for 48 hours solid, sir.
I know.
Where the hell have you been?!
Learning to swim.
- Do your best, Blaine. - Roger.
You get one?
All I got was a bellyful of English Channel.
When are you going to learn?
I didn't know they were there.
Never fly straight and level...
for more than thirty seconds in the combat area.
How many times have I told you? Come on, I'll give you a lift.
I'd rather walk, sir.
Cut out the "sir."
You called your wife?
All right, boy. Get in.
Here you are, sir.
Thank you.
It's ridiculous!
We go up four or five times a day...
and every time we come down, more potholes.
There are more potholes until we can't bloody well get in a door.
We'll get this place operational again.
You won't. Not until someone decides...
to protect it while we're up.
What flaming genius thought of sending us...
to that dump of a flying club?
Don't blame me. Direct orders from group.
Park himself. It's not a bad little field.
I've seen it. Damp tents...
and a nasty little shack full of dead flies.
At least you won't have the Jerries visiting you.
I don't blame them.
How much longer, Hobbes?
The engine's overheating, and so am I.
We either stand down or blow up.
Which do you want?
Hostile 1-6, reconfirm, please.
Need some more Yellow sevens, Flight.
This is R-29, now forty plus. 1-5.
Yes. 2-6 and 4-1 detected, sir.
7 Squadron's airborne, sir.
Thank you. Let 12 Group know. And make sure they know...
they're protecting my airfields while they're up.
- They have been told, sir. - Tell them again.
Pine Tree Leader, this is Turkey Control.
Vector 1-9-2.
I have some trade for you over Maidstone.
Turkey Control, Pine Tree Leader.
Roger 1-9-0.
Pine Tree, this is Turkey.
Twenty plus bandits and Angels 2-0 heading west.
Roger, Turkey Control.
Indiana left. Making low level attack.
Roger. I see you. I'm breaking left to attack.
My God! Fighters coming down now!
Fire speed. Break.
Break!
On your tail, Jamie.
Enemy aircraft approaching, sir.
Coming straight for us. Flying course, 21st.
About eight thousand feet.
I'm taking cover.
Tin hats, everybody.
That should damn well never have happened.
- Where the hell is 12 Group? - They were requested, sir.
They're nowhere in sight.
Find out what the devil they think they're playing at.
They just fell on us.
They got my number two and the C. O.
You saw Canfield go down?
It blew up.
Just blew up.
- Bad as we thought? - Worse.
Kenley and Biggenor are shambles again...
and the rest are not much better.
God knows how many aircraft we'll have in the morning.
All because 12 Group didn't do their stuff.
Leigh-Mallory and his so-called Big Wings.
Might as well stay on the ground for all the use they are.
We were up, sir.
Trying to knock out the enemy en masse.
But it takes time to assemble 40 or 50 aircraft at 15,000 feet.
It takes far too long.
By the time your Big Wing is up...
the enemy have hit their targets and are on their way home.
All that matters is to shoot them down in large numbers.
I'd rather destroy fifty after they've hit their targets...
than ten before.
Don't forget the targets are my airfields, Leigh-Mallory...
and you're not getting fifty. You're not even getting ten.
Gentlemen, you're missing the essential truth.
We're short of two hundred pilots.
Those we have are tired, strained...
and all overdue for relief.
We're fighting for survival.
Losing.
We don't need a big wing or a small wing.
We need pilots.
And a miracle.
Good night, gentlemen.
- Good night, sir. - Good night, sir.
And now, over to the Savoy Hotel, London...
for dance music until midnight...
with Carrol Gibbons and his Savoy Hotel Orpheans.
You look a damn sight better out of uniform.
Hardly remember you out of yours.
And who's fault's that?
For God's sake, not again.
Look, damn it, my squadron's come south.
You just apply for that posting!
Colin, no!
All right, agreed! Taboo subject tonight.
Old wafs.
You really think we're solemnly going...
to get into these ridiculous garments?
Not at this stage, surely.
I'm shy.
Oh, Maggie, come on.
It's just...
I am shy.
Honestly.
I'll put out the light.
No, Colin!
No, it's not just bed, it's us!
It's you.
And me.
You and me.
We should have been over target nine minutes ago.
The wind has veered.
So where are we?
Where is London?
Far back in the south-west.
Good. Then get rid of the bombs and let's go home.
Colin.
I will put in for that posting.
Promise.
That's their bombs!
They're bombing London!
It isn't funny! Cut it out!
Too damn close.
Colin, I promise.
I promise.
Attacks on London are strictly forbidden.
This order you know as well as I do, Major Brandt.
These attacks may only be flown...
on the specific order of the Fuehrer.
I regret, gentlemen...
that this is now completely out of my hands.
By order of Vice Marshal Goering...
you two are to report to Berlin to testify.
Thank you.
Major Brandt?
Flying Officer Froedl. Please follow me.
Would you believe it?
Don't they know there's a blackout?
You know what Goering said:
"If ever a bomb falls on Berlin...
- "you may call me Meier." - Hmm.
You are to report to Colonel Schroeder at 9 A. M. Sharp.
This car will take you to your quarters...
and you are to remain there.
"As from today, we are called Meier."
Last night, bombs were dropped on Berlin by the British.
So be it.
That is a game at which two can play.
If the R. A. F. Drops three, four...
five thousand kilograms of bombs on Germany in one night...
then in one night we shall drop three hundred...
four hundred, five hundred, five thousand on England!
When they attack our cities, we will flatten theirs.
Then we will obliterate them!
The hour will come when one of us must crack.
It will never be National Socialist Germany!
Never! Never!
The English are wondering.
They keep asking, "Why doesn't he come?"
Be patient. Patience.
We are coming.
We are coming!
Sieg heil! Sieg heil!
Attention!
Reichsmarschall, I welcome you in the name of...
It's all right, Kesselring. Thank you, thank you.
Ah, Osterkamp, everything all right?
Yes, sir.
Then it can begin.
- Come with me, Kesselring. - Yes.
Don't stand around like a bunch of pigs!
Fall in!
I'll let the lot of you swim over the Channel!
Attention!
In the ditch! March! Get off the road!
Attention!
There they come.
If we lose the war now...
they'll tear our arses asunder.
Arrow to Rabbit Leader.
Vector 1-6-0.
Bandits one hundred plus.
Angels 1-5.
Bandits one hundred plus. Over.
Rabbit to Arrow.
I can't see them.
But they must be there.
Well, come have a look for yourself then.
Nothing, I repeat, nothing.
Group, please.
Everything we've got, and get them moving.
They've caught us this time.
They're turning northwest. It looks like London.
It's London, all right...
and we've got everything up covering airfields.
Where is the Royal Air Force?
- Messerschmidt. - Iron Corps.
Messerschmidt!
No, they ain't. They're Iron Corps.
Five seconds.
Away!
The pressure's dropping again.
This is as far as I can get, lad.
Down at the end there, by that car.
- Hey, no you don't. - What do you mean?
There's a thousand-pounder down there...
and it's not gone off.
If you're looking for somebody...
they're all down at the church hall.
They got the Rose 'n' Crown.
He'll have to drink at the Red Lion now.
If they'll have him.
How bloody stupid can you get?
I spend half a leaf seeing you all safe in the country...
and you bring her back to all this.
I'm sorry, it's just we missed everyone.
You're all going back.
Dad, have you finished it?
Have you got it?
Thank you.
There's a family trapped in Shaw Street.
Can we have some more volunteers?
I'll be back, luv.
Stop that bloody bell!
It came more from the back.
Not real Spitfires.
They couldn't land here.
You'll see in a minute.
Only officers fly Spitfires.
You're not a fighter pilot.
What about your top button?
Anybody can do that.
T-5? What's that?
They're a training squadron, sir.
The Poles.
Get them out of it. Get them down.
Blackhawk Leader, vector 2-3-0...
and return to base immediately. Over.
Blackhawk Leader. Received and understood. Out.
Blackhawk Leader to "A" flight.
Turn to port and steer 2-3-0.
Germans! Germans, on the right!
- I don't see! Where? - Down there on the right!
I see the Jerries. I see!
Stop that Polish chatter and steer 2-3-0.
Repeat, please.
I say again, 2-3-0.
Repeat, please.
For crying out loud, 2-3-0!
- Repeat, please. - Repeat, please.
Now, just shut up, the lot of you, and follow me...
unless you're blind as well as...
Oh, God's truth.
Shut up!
Silence, in Polish!
Get out quickly!
One, the R. A. F. Is not a flying circus.
Two, strict R. T. Procedure will be observed at all times.
And it is never... repeat, never... to be used...
for private Polish chitchat.
Finally, and God alone knows why...
I've received the following signal.
"Congratulations. As of today, this squadron is operational."
Signed, "Keith Park...
"Air Vice Marshal, A. O. C. 11 Group."
I was wrong about the Poles.
We also have the second Polish squadron, sir.
I thought you'd mention that.
All right. Make them operational.
And the Canadians?
And the Czechs. We need them all.
Looks like London again, sir.
Yes.
And there's nothing we can do about it.
But if Goering should concentrate...
on London by day...
it's another matter.
If it means he leaves my airfields alone...
I shan't complain.
Even a few days would give me the chance...
to get back to full strength.
He'll have farther to come.
And to go back.
We'll have more time to intercept.
What's more important, Park...
his fighters have only fuel enough...
for ten minutes over London.
His bombers will lose much of their protection.
For the first time...
they'll all come within the range of 12 Group.
Perhaps now, at last, we shall see...
what Leigh-Mallory's Big Wings are made of.
Turning on London could be the Germans' biggest blunder.
Spider Leader, this is Top Hat Control.
Bandits now twenty miles east of you, heading southeast.
Vector 1-2-0.
- Make, Angel 2-0. - Roger, Top Hat.
Fox Trot Leader, this is Tango Control.
Fox Trot Leader, Pass your message.
I have some trade for you building up over green "A."
Roger, Tango.
Spider Leader, Top Hat Control.
Your customers appear to be splitting up.
Main course heading for London will be your target.
Vector 0-9-0.
Roger, Top Hat.
Batman Control. Climb to Angels 1-9.
Roger, Batman.
Thank you again.
This should give them something to think about.
Starlight Control to Dogtail.
Keep an eye out for a friendly wing...
joining you on your port side.
Roger, Starlight.
I see them. I see them.
Bloody marvelous.
Fox Trot Leader, Tango Control.
Bandits now probably slightly below you.
Roger, Tango. I've got them.
Peewee Leader turning starboard now.
Watch out for 109s about.
Roger, Fairfield Leader. Going up now.
Take the left-hand pair, Blue Leader.
Roger.
Everybody else, keep tight.
Swarms of them, sir!
Fox Trot Leader, cut that out.
Everyone keep quiet.
Leave the flaming fighters.
It's the bloody bombers we want.
Ox, will you pipe down?
On fire, son of a gun!
Ox! Behind you!
Behind!
I am on fire! I'm bailing out!
Good afternoon.
Good afternoon my ass, you Boche bastard.
Put your hands up! Come on, put them up!
What is it? I'm a Polish pilot...
Cor blimey. Your mitts, mate... your mitts.
Put 'em up there. Go on. Get going.
Where are you taking me? I'm fighting on your side!
Can we get in?
- And fetch the doctor. - Good.
I know, young man.
Get out of the way, man.
It's coming. It's coming.
Are you telling me that your losses are critical?
We're bombing day and night, Reichsmarschall.
Our losses are high, and our pilots are tired...
and the planes need servicing.
Be specific! What are you telling me?!
The English have changed tactics.
Changed tactics? How?
They are attacking in large numbers.
Our losses might be reduced if our formations...
were more closely escorted by fighters, sir.
The fighters are always there.
But not close enough, is that it?
You, yourself, were a fighter pilot.
The fighter is a hunter, sir.
I was a fighter pilot.
I was not a coward!
There is no suggestion of cowardice, sir!
I am making the suggestion!
From now on the fighters will stay close with our bombers.
And lose their natural advantages...
of surprise and speed?
You will obey orders!
The invasion cannot begin until we have cleared the skies.
Come, my friends, I have chastised you enough.
But I am here to help him.
Is there anything you want?
Foehn? Falke?
Yes, sir, a squadron of Spitfires.
Stop... vapor trail.
Left and above.
Vulture Leader to everyone.
Keep quiet. Hold positions.
We'll encircle them only when they close up...
to firing distance.
We'll take the rear starboard.
Yellow, you take the port.
Roger.
Thanks awfully, old chap.
Sir, you know...
I have promised the Fuehrer...
to clear the skies and totally destroy the R. A. F.
I expect to be obeyed!
Here we are.
The miracle of the loaves.
We should have moved in here before we were bombed.
Maggie, I'd like you to meet our new assistant controller.
Squadron Leader Tom Evans, Section Officer Harvey.
How do you do?
Hello.
He knows your old man.
How is Colin?
Haven't seen him since my little escapade...
with the burning Hurricane.
Excuse me, ma'am.
Ma'am. There's a call for you.
Will you excuse me just a minute?
- Yes. - Thanks.
It's around the corner.
Hello?
It's me.
How on earth did you get through here?
Put it down to rank.
I said I was an old battle-ax from the Air Ministry.
Colin. That was very clever.
Any news?
About?
Your posting, you silly idiot.
Well, you've applied.
I've been so busy here.
It's really not as simple as all that.
Look, why the hell not?
To be absolutely honest, I forgot.
I know, darling. I'm sorry.
Groopy's here now.
I'll go and talk to him right away. All right?
All right?
Colin?
Get through all right, sir?
Yes.
Let me give you a piece of advice.
What's that, sir?
Stay single.
Are you still with me, Dogtail Red-2?
Affirmative, Red Leader.
Directly behind you and on your starboard side.
What happened to Harvey?
He got a 1-0-9, then ran into trouble...
but he's all right.
No mistake. I saw him bail out.
Right, right, attention.
Right. Stand at ease.
Corporal Seymour will detail you to your various watches.
I left out the bit about the wolf whistles.
You're better at that.
The troops have other things on their minds nowadays...
thank goodness.
Right! Shun!
It's Colin.
He isn't dead, Maggie.
He's going to be all right.
They can do wonders nowadays, you know.
It's just a question of time, that's all.
We'll get you a posting so you can be near him.
Is he badly burned?
You sent for me, sir?
Yes, Peter. I want you to take over Red Section.
Who are my numbers two and three, sir?
A couple of new lads. They're outside.
Right, then.
How many hours on spits?
- Ten, sir. - Seven, sir.
Stick to me like glue and keep your eyes open.
Control. Put out 2-2-2 and 6-0-3 Squadrons...
against Hostile 2-6.
Winston would pick a day like this to come.
Is everything up?
The lot, sir.
- Reserves? - None.
That's what I've just told the prime minister.
Red-3, this is Red-1.
Much closer. I can hardly see you.
Red-2. You must keep up with me.
Right, Red Section. Here we go.
Stick to me like glue.
Red-3, behind you!
Come in, Blue-2.
Hey, kids. Shut up, will you?
This is the BBC home service.
Here is the 9:00 news...
and this is Armand Adell reading it.
Up till 8:00 tonight...
165 German aircraft have been destroyed...
in big scale attacks attempted by the enemy today...
on London and the southeast.
We lost thirty fighters with ten of the pilots safe.
Buckingham Palace has been bombed again...
but no one was hurt.
Yes? Yes, one moment.
It's the air minister, sir, on the scrambler.
Yes?
Dowding. Look, our people in Washington...
are having trouble with the American press...
and it's about today's figures.
German sources there are saying...
that our claims are wildly exaggerated.
Hello?
Are you there, Dowding?
I'm here, Minister.
Well, can you verify the figures?
I'm not very interested in propaganda.
If we're right, they'll give up.
If we're wrong, they'll be in London in a week.
- Morning, Arnold. - Morning, sir.
Morning, sir.
- Morning, Arnold. - Morning, Clyde.
Dispersal.
Right.
Tea's up.
Good morning, sir.
Good morning.
They are late this morning, sir.
The bastards are up to something.
Quick march!
You have let me down!
You have betrayed me!