Donhauer's just arrived, Spud.
What's the ruddy idea?
Total war, isn't it? What do you want?
- Message from H.Q. Where's the C.O.? - In the barn. Follow me.
Message from headquarters, sir.
- Sergeant Hawkins. - Sir.
Read it.
It's in code, sir. Message begins:
"Exercise invasion of the London area by regular army.
- Home Guard defending." - Yeah.
"War starts at midnight."
Message ends.
The C.O.'s put in pencil here, sir: "Make it like the real thing."
Oh, he has, has he? Section commanders.
Message from H.Q. War starts at midnight. You have your orders. Tell the men.
- Tell them to make it like the real thing. - What do you mean the real thing?
Our losses divided by ten and the enemy's multiplied by 20.
- Yes, sir. - That's all for now.
- Anything for me, sir? - No, nothing else.
- The war starts at midnight. We know. - They know.
- We attack. - They counter attack.
Like the real thing, my Aunt Fatty.
Like the real thing.
Like the real thing!
Sergeant Hawkins. Section commanders.
- So, war starts at midnight, does it? - Sir.
We attack at 6:00. Take all the tommy guns and three trucks.
Section leaders with tommy guns, arm the men with bombs, rifles, bayonets.
- Tommy. From your section, Rice, Unsworth... - The two Owens?
- Yes. Nobby, Toots and Cochrane. - Not Cochrane, sir.
I'll leave it to you. Stuffy, who are the biggest toughs in your lot?
- Bill Wall, Wimpey, Madpan and Popeye. - Yours, Robin?
- Frank, Skeets, Duggie Stewart, sir. - Taffy, Geordie, sir.
Busty, Porky Simms and Pat Sullivan, sir.
- Di Evans, sir. - We must have him. All right. Get going.
Excuse me, sir. Did you say we attack before war's declared?
Yes, like Pearl Harbor. Now get going.
Oh, by the way. There's just one stop. At the Bull.
I've got a date there with Mata Hari.
- Careless talk? - Yeah. Now scram.
Five minutes easy, Sergeant.
Five minutes easy, Stuffy.
I wonder what's keeping Spud.
Come on.
- Good afternoon, Sergeant Hawkins. - Good afternoon, miss.
- Hey! - Everybody back on the trucks.
Spud!
Prop him up here. Spud.
- What's the matter? - Come on, sir, what happened?
- Spud! Who? - She got me.
Mata Hari! Come on, quick! Oh!
- Any luck? - Not a hope. She's halfway to London by now.
She's gone to warn the wizard. Come on, get my tin hat. Come on, after her.
- The barricade's open, sir. - Good. Damn.
You know, sir, you ought to have one of these field dressings on that.
Save it for her. She'll need it somewhere else when I catch up with her.
See that barricade, my boys? Well, at midnight on the dot it's going to be closed.
And of course the enemy can't get through before. Because why? Because...
War starts at midnight.
- What's the objective, sir? - Royal Bathers' Club, Piccadilly.
- What about Mata Hari? - We'll beat her to it.
I know a couple of shortcuts after Marble Arch.
There she is! Get the other trucks to close off. See if you can cross her.
Blast that taxi.!
Steady. Keep right on his tail.
Don't follow her. Keep straight on.
Second left. We've got her.
- Number One Section, Number Two, Number Three. - Yes, sir.
You have your orders. Mr. Graves, Sergeant Hawkins.
Yes, l...
- Is General Wynne-Candy in the club? - No, sir.
The general left an hour ago with Brigadier General Caldicott...
- and Air Vice Marshal Lloyd-Hughes. - Did he say where he was going?
Excuse me, sir, but what is your business with the general?
I have a message with him, an urgent message.
If you give me the message, I'll see the general gets it.
- Damn it all, man. Are you in the Home Guard? - Why, sir?
The password is Veuve Cliquot 1911.
The general and his staff are in the Turkish bath, sir.
Sergeant Hawkins, you're in charge up here. Stay with him.
Don't leave your desk or answer the telephone. You're a prisoner.
- The war doesn't start till midnight. - That's what you think.
Sergeant, that girl under the desk there. She's a prisoner too.
- Corporal, leave these men with me. - All right, boys, this is it.
- Brute force and ruddy ignorance. - Come on, after him. Double up.
You're a prisoner.
- Who are you? - Don't argue. Guard this man.
- And answer that damn telephone. - Yes, miss? Wanted a Wynne-Candy?
Can't do that, miss.
Sorry, miss, the general's a prisoner and so are you.
Oh, not till the war's over.
Quiet!
- Any sign of him? - No, not here.
- Are you the ringleader of this outrage? - Quiet, please!
This is an army exercise. You're all prisoners. Now stay where you are.
- Attendant, come here. Where's General Wynne-Candy? - Who, sir?
- You heard. Come on, show me the way. Go on. - In the steam room.
This is it.
Sir?
- Sir. - Go away.
General Wynne-Candy.
What? Who is it?
Lieutenant Wilson, sir. Second Battalion, the Devonshires, sir.
- What do you want? - Well, sir. I'm afraid, sir, we've...
Well, say it, man. Say it. I've no time to waste.
- Oh, yes, you have, sir. - I beg your pardon, sir.
You've got all night, sir.
- Attendant! - I'm afraid he can't come.
- Why? - He's a prisoner, sir.
What's going on here?
Invasion, sir.
But, you damned young idiot, war starts at midnight.
- Haven't you been told? - Oh, yes, sir. That's why we're here.
But may I ask on what authority?
On the authority of these guns and these men, sir.
Authority? Authority?
How dare you, sir? How dare you?
Get out of here, sir, you and your gang of awful militia gangsters!
- Get out! - Popeye, guard this man.
Stuffy, go to the cubicles. Find which is General Wynne-Candy's.
- You'll find a brown pigskin case there. Bring it. - Yes, sir.
But you can't do that. The code is in that case.
The whole exercise will be a farce if you have that code.
Oh, no, sir. This is going to be the real thing, sir.
- But war starts at midnight. - Oh, yes, you say war starts at midnight.
How do you know the enemy says so too?
But, my dear fellow, that was agreed, wasn't it?
Agreed, my foot.
How many agreements have been kept by the enemy since this war started?
We agree to keep to the rules of the game and they go on kicking us in the pants.
When I joined the army, the only agreement I entered into...
was to defend my country by every means at my disposal.
Not only by the national sporting club rules,
- but by every means that have existed since Cain slugged Abel. - Stop it.
Don't we know that they're counting on us to keep to the rules?
- Stop it. Stop it! - That they openly boast about it? That they laugh at us?
Lieutenant...
Watson, or whatever your name is,
you are not in Hyde Park with an audience of loafers.
I am Major General Wynne-Candy.
These other gentlemen have all seen service,
distinguished service with the British Army.
All I can say, sir, is when Napoleon said an army marched on its stomach...
I'd better stop, sir.
You're an extremely impudent young officer,
but let me tell you that in 40 years' time, you'll be an old gentleman too.
And if your belly keeps pace with your head, you'll have a bigger one than any of us.
Maybe I shall in 40 years, but I doubt it.
And I doubt if I'll have time to grow a mustache like yours, sir.
But in 1983, at least I shall be able to say that 40 years ago I was a fellow of enterprise.
I'll punch your head for that, young fellow. You young puppy.
Put 'em up. Take that. I'll beat you.
Think you can say what you like to an old one, do you?
Do you know how many wars I've been in?
I was fighting for my country when your father was still in bum freezers.
Puppy, gangster.
You laugh at my big belly, but you don't know how I got it.
You laugh at my mustache, but you don't know why I grew it.
How do you know what sort of a fellow I was...
when I was as young as you are, forty years ago?
Forty years ago.
- Everything you want, Mr. Candy, sir? - Yes, thanks, Peters.
Quiet! Quiet! People are trying to sleep!
- Suggie! - Hoppy, me old horse, since when are you in London?
Got back yesterday, sick leave. Actually, I've been searching for you all over the city.
- Yes? - I'm terribly sorry to hear about your leg.
Jumping Jehosaphat! They're both there!
- What the hell do you think I'm standing on? - I thought you had a wooden leg.
- Why should I have a wooden leg? - They told me at Bloemfontein they cut off your left leg.
Can't have, old boy. I'd have known about it.
Quiet!
- Call a cab, porter. - Yes, sir. Boy.
- Handsome, mind. Growlers barred. - He knows, sir.
- I could've done with a nap myself. - Got all night, haven't you?
- Going to the theater tonight. I invited two ladies. - Can't you sleep there?
- Can I come? - One is the mother.
Your cab, sir.
Ah, the opera singers, eh?
No wonder civilians are grumbling about the army.
Ought to be ashamed of yourselves,
yelling and screaming like some damned... damned foreigner.
That's a nice state of things.
Officers and men losing their lives in South Africa...
while young officers are roaring about public places like drunkards.
Perhaps you are drunk, huh?
- What's this? - V.C., sir.
- Where did you get it? - South Africa, Jordaan Siding.
- You're Candy, Sugar Candy? - Yes, sir.
- Good show, Candy. - Thank you, sir.
- Hopwell, sir. - Hopwell? Hopwell?
- Son of Barney Hopwell of the 66th? - Yes, sir.
- You're very musical. - No, sir.
- And so are you. - You mean Mignon, sir? "I am Tatania."
- You're what? - Tatania, sir. We were shut up with her in a block house...
for seven months nearJordaan Siding.
- I beg your pardon? - It's an aria, sir. You know, Mignon.
We had a phonograph and broke every record but that one. We know it by heart.
- Are you boys going to the Lilly? Ah, that's where I'm going. - Yes, sir.
- Can I give you a lift? - No thank you, sir. We've got a cab.
- Right. St. James' Palace. - Right, sir.
I hope you two boys enjoy your leave. You've earned it.
- Thank you, sir. Mind your sword in the door. - Boy!
- Another handsome. - The old horse thief.
- Ever ridden in one? - Rather. All the way to Epsom.
- Lovely lines, hasn't it? - Top end.
- Hot potato, sir? - No, we've just come over for a warm.
Same beastly drizzle, same fog and soot. Good old London.
Now, listen, Suggie. You remember that interview you gave the Times?
- You don't mean to say you read it? - Me? No.
- But I have a niece who has a governess who has a sister. - Pretty?
- Never laid eyes on her. But she read it. - Who?
My niece's governess' sister in Berlin.
And she wrote to her sister over here,
who gave the letter to my niece to give to me to give to you.
- Who do I give it to? - Nobody. It's for you and there it is.
- Why? - Well, read it, you big ape.
You'll find out. It's interesting.
- Sit down. - Thank you, sir.
- Fire away. - Well, sir. I have a friend...
Good. Not everyone can say that.
- Continue. - This friend of mine has a niece...
Cut it short, my boy. You say in here something about a letter.
One: Who wrote it? Two: What's in it?
Three: What's the War Office got to do with it? Four: I'll tell you.
Five: Out. One!
A girl wrote it, from Berlin. Her name's Edith Hunter. She's a governess there.
Rather an uncomfortable billet just now.
That's just it, sir. They hate us in Germany.
They're spreading propaganda all over Europe...
That we're killing women and children in South Africa.
That we're starving them in concentration camps. Shooting mothers, burning babies.
You wouldn't believe the things they've invented.
I spoke to Conan Doyle. He thinks something ought to be done about it too.
About what? What's all this about a letter? And who's Conan Doyle?
The author chap. He writes the Sherlock Holmes stories in the Strand Magazine.
- This Doyle fellow writes the Sherlock Holmes stories? - Yes, sir.
- Conan Doyle, you must have seen his name. - Never heard ofhim.
But I've read every Sherlock Holmes story since they started in July '91.
- Are you reading The Hound of the Baskervilles? - Am I not?
What did you think of the end of the last installment?
A bit of a facer for poor old Watson.
"Lovely evening, my dear Watson.
I really think you'll be more comfortable outside than in."
Sarcastic devil, that fellow Holmes.
I once had a C.O. Just like him.
He must be a rather good fellow as authors go.
Well, sir, Mr. Conan Doyle is collecting material about our campaign in South Africa...
to counter German propaganda.
- The Times printed an interview with me about seven weeks ago. - Oh, that's bad.
Good rule to keep out of the newspapers. Still, the Times, a bit different.
- Yeah. Yeah, I suppose. - Yes, sir.
In this interview, I mentioned the name of a place called Jordaan Siding.
I was there for seven months. Now, this girl writes from Berlin...
that the worst stories of all are being put about...
by a fellow called Kaunitz who says he saw with his own eyes...
British soldiers kill 250 women and children atJordaan Siding...
in order to save feeding them.
Do you know this fellow Kaunitz?
Of course, sir. He's the most awful little rat.
He was spying for us and spying for the Boers.
He made South Africa too hot for himself and skipped.
Both sides would've shot him if they'd caught him.
I see. What do you want me to do about it?
My leave isn't up for four weeks.
- Why shouldn't I go to Berlin and confront this little rat? - My dear boy.
First of all, it's not done.
This isn't army business. This is embassy.
Leave politics to the politicians.
You wouldn't like a diplomat charging into the front line with your company, would you?
- It might do him a lot of good, sir. - Juvenile nonsense, my boy.
- Sorry, sir. - You were sent home in order to recuperate.
- Your country needs you. Play golf? - Yes, sir.
- What's your form? - About ten, sir.
- Hmm. Care for a game? - Sorry, sir.
I'm invited by Lady Gilpin to Leicestershire to start tomorrow.
Oh, enjoy yourself.
- M.I., Major Plumley. - By the way,
- this author chap. - Author chap, sir?
- Yes. This fellow that wrote Hound of the Baskervilles. - Conan Doyle?
You didn't happen to ask him, by any chance, what happens in the next installment,
- Just a moment. - Did you?
Yes, sir. There's another murder.
- Not the baronet? - No, sir. The baronet is safe.
Good. Good, I'm glad.
- Warm forJanuary. - Damn cold, I call it.
Take my tip, my boy. You've got a damn good V.C. Now keep quiet for a bit, hmm?
Well, what did he say?
Look here, do you still want to go to the theater tonight?
- Well, I like that. You told me when I asked you... - Never mind what I said.
Here you are, box "A." Her Majesty's Theater, The Last of the Dandies.
Introduce yourself to Lady Gilpin and Sybil.
Say I've gone on some secret mission.
Make me out the most mysterious, romantic figure.
The girl's pretty. The mother's a gorgon.
- Are you going on a secret mission? - Yes, to Berlin.
- Did he send you? - No, it's a secret from him too.
Morning, Brady. You send those flowers?
Yes, sir. Oh, Mr. Hopwell, there's a postcard for you, sir.
Ah, from Mr. Candy. So the old bugger got there.
- How is Mr. Candy, sir? - Read it yourself.
- Mr. Candy? Yes. - Miss Hunter?
Thank you for your telegram. It came as a great surprise to me.
- I had no idea you were in Berlin. - Nor had I, till now.
- I beg your pardon? - I only arrived yesterday.
Do you... Can you possibly mean that you've come here solely on account of my letter?
- Well, naturally. - Oh.
- You don't mind, do you? - No, no. Of course not.
Well, shall we sit down?
- Did you have a good journey? - Excellent.
I'm sorry to bring you out in such weather. I was about to call on you.
- I've changed my address. - Indeed?
- My position became intolerable. I've had to leave. - No.
English people are not very popular in Berlin at the moment, you know.
- Do you mean you've lost your job because you're English? - Yes.
- Can you get another job? - Perhaps in a few months' time. Not now.
- What will you do now? - Go back.
- To England? - Yes, I'm afraid so.
Cheer up. England isn't as bad as all that, you know.
That is what we both want to prove, isn't it, Mr. Candy?
Yes, Miss Hunter.
- How shall we begin? - You mentioned in your letter a fellow named Kaunitz.
- Do you know what he looks like? - No, I've never seen him.
- I know a café where he and his friends hold their Stammtisch. - You do?
That means they have a table regularly reserved for them.
Do you know any of his friends, Miss Hunter?
Yes, one. A student.
A brother of my employer... my ex-employer. He is a Burschenschafter.
- You know what Burschenschafts are? - No, Miss Hunter.
They are associations of students professing political principles.
They assert them by drinking beer and fighting duels.
- Dueling is very popular here, I believe. - Oh, yes.
It's a proud father that has a scarred son and vice versa.
German girls find scars very attractive.
A book was recently published on the German colonies in which it was specifically stated...
that one of the advantages of possessing dueling scars was...
that the natives of Africa look with more respect upon a white man who bears them...
- than upon those who do not. - I feel like Stanley and Livingston.
- Surely not the both, Mr. Candy. - No, you're Miss Livingston. I'm the missionary.
- Livingston was the missionary, Mr. Candy. - Oh, yes. Of course. So he was.
Well, about this café, can you take me there this evening?
- Do you wish me to accompany you? - Of course.
- Very well. - I mean, it's awfully nice of you.
I should obviously be absolutely lost without you.
Dear Mr. Candy, you are Livingston...
I presume.
Mr. Candy.
Ninety-three. Oh, it's a song. All the rage just now.
"Die Mühle ging 'rum und 'rum." The mill went round and round, Mr. Candy.
- Miss Hunter, I'm afraid I've met you here under false pretenses. - Indeed? Why?
There are political complications.
The Prince of Wales is coming to Berlin.
He's invited to the kaiser's birthday party.
- A goodwill visit and all that sort of thing, you know. - I know. It was in the papers.
You see, Miss Hunter, I know a chap at our embassy here.
We were at school together. His name's Fitzroy.
Only we used to call him Babyface.
But how are the Prince of Wales and your friend Babyface connected?
Well, you see,
he nearly had a fit when he knew why I'd come.
Babyface, I mean.
He lugged me in to see the second secretary and he nearly had a fit too...
the possible scandal, you know.
Are you coming to a point, Mr. Candy?
Yes. The point is that I had to promise to do nothing.
- And I went bail for you too. - Oh.
Apparently, it's a matter for careful diplomacy. You can see what they mean.
- Yes, of course. - I know nothing about politics.
I rather stuck my head in where I wasn't wanted.
You know, I could get into the most awful trouble.
- Trouble, Mr. Candy? - Well, I'm a soldier. You know that, Miss Hunter.
I thought you were a soldier this morning, Mr. Candy,
or have you joined the army since lunch?
- The table's filling up. - Whose table?
Don't you remember the Stammtisch? It's where Kaunitz will sit.
You know, it's a bit staggering...
to see a girl take such an interest in politics.
- Politics? - Well, what else can you call it?
German propaganda against England. Counter-propaganda.
This Verband he's in. That's politics, isn't it?
Not for me, nor for a great many people.
You see, Mr. Candy, when our embassy in Berlin...
reports to the foreign office in London that a slight change of attitude is visible...
in the German nationals towards the Boer question,
I have to report home in my letter that I have lost my position...
and am returning to the bosom of my family.
I suppose they'll be rather sick about it.
On the contrary, they will welcome me with open arms.
- I don't blame them, either. - No, Mr. Candy, you see,
my family were opposed to my coming to Berlin.
- They said that the best place for a young girl is home. - Quite so.
- Why? - What do you mean, why?
How do you know what is the best place for a young girl?
- Are you a girl? Have you any daughters? - I say.
You see, while you men have been fighting, we women have been thinking.
Think for yourself, Mr. Candy. What careers are there open to a woman?
- She can get married. - I was just going to say.
Supposing she doesn't want to get married?
She can go and be a governess.
But what does a governess know, Mr. Candy? Nothing, I assure you.
Then what can she teach the children who are in her charge?
Very little except good manners, if she herself has good manners.
- Good manners are important. - Did you learn that in South Africa, Mr. Candy?
My brothers told me that good manners cost us Magerfontein, Stormberg and Colenso.
Six thousand men killed and 20,000 wounded, and two years of war.
When with a little common sense and bad manners, there would have been no war at all.
One thing I don't understand is why you should have to teach German children manners.
I should've thought there were plenty of English kids who...
- I will tell you if you promise not to laugh at me. - I promise.
- My only asset is a fluent command of English. - Hear, hear.
Obviously to teach English in England is to carry coals to Newcastle...
and correspondingly ill-paid.
I therefore decided to obtain a post in Germany...
where my English would command a premium,
- and having learnt German, to return to England where my German... - Well, I'll be sugared.
- That is he. - It's him all right, the little skunk.
- Well, shall we go? - Go?
Oh, yes, I suppose so.
History will remember this as the great retreat from the Café Höhenzollern.
Just a second, please.
Here we are. Can you get the orchestra to play 141?
Why, yes, of course. Call a waiter. Herr Ober.
Oh, it's Mignon. "I am Tatania." Do you really like it?
Please ask him. I'll explain later. Herr Ober.
- Herr Kapellmeister. - Bitte.
Der Tisch da drüben wünscht die Mignon. Die Dame mit dem Hut.
Kaunitz was a prisoner in our blockhouse for seven weeks.
This was the only record we had on our phonograph.
I want to see if he remembers it.
Touched him on the raw, all right.
Herr Ober!
He's calling the waiter. Herr Ober.
- Is it done to bribe the orchestra? - Not with money. Beer.
- Bier für das Orchester. - Jawohl.
Round one to Kaunitz.
Also, prost, meine Herren. Prost.
Reinforcements are coming.
Herr Kapellmeister, Bier für das Orchester.
Das ist grossartig.
Bier.
- Wovon kommt das? - Von dem Tisch da drüben.
- Herr Ober.! - Herr Kaunitz. Jawohl, Herr Kaunitz.
- He's coming up. - Let us go, Mr. Candy.
A bit late now.
- I hope he doesn't see you. - I hope he does.
Hello, Kaunitz.
Das ist ja eine schöne Überraschung, Herr Candy.
- Come on, Kaunitz. You speak English. - I do.
But I prefer German.
Meine Damen und Herren.!
Stop it, Kaunitz. I'm with a lady.
You should have thought of that before you started your little joke.
Stop it, Kaunitz.
- Take off your... - Come on, be a good man.
Get back to your table.
- Dafür werden sie Rechenschaft geben, Sie Flegel. - Rasch. Hilf mir, Hans.
Herr Kapellmeister. Spielen Sie.
Please tell him it's all his fault.
- He started it. - Engländer.!
Bitte, meine Herren. Kein Skandal.
Eine Schande. Sie dulden englische Schweine in ihrem Lokal.
- Wir haben gar nichts gemacht. - Mit ihnen haben wir nichts zu tun.
Manners.
Ich spreche Englisch. You will get into great trouble, my man.
- You are not now in England. - You saw very well that he asked for it.
Herr Kaunitz is a friend of us.
- You will satisfaction give. - Please stop shouting. You don't understand.
This gentleman and Herr Kaunitz are old friends.
Was sagt sie?
It's going a bit far to call that skunk a friend of mine.
Herr Kaunitz is a member of der Alldeutsche Verband.
Then the Alldeutsche Verband ought to be ashamed of itself.
Mein Herr, officers of the Imperial German Army...
are members of the Alldeutsche Verband.
Then the officers of the Imperial German Army...
ought to be ashamed of themselves too.
Einen Augenblick, bitte.
Bitte sehr.
- Von Ritter. - Von Schonborn. - Uh, Fitzroy.
- Können wir mit Ihnen Deutsch sprechen? - Natürlich.
Was wünschen Sie, meine Herren?
It being on British territory, should we rather speak in English?
Righto. How can I help you gentlemen? Won't you sit down?
Thank you.
We wish some information about a compatriot of yours in Berlin,
- a certain Mr. Candy. - Clive Candy?
- Yes, Clive Candy. - You've come to the right man.
- I know him well. We were at Harrow together. - Indeed?
We've lost touch a bit since the war, though. He's army, you know.
He is an officer of the British Army?
- Yes, he's just returned from South Africa. - This is excellent news.
- You have relieved us from great doubts. - I don't quite understand.
We were worried that your friend might not be able to give satisfaction.
Satisfaction?
It is understood that an officer of the Imperial German Army...
cannot demand satisfaction from an opponent who is not his equal in position and honor.
But since this Clive Candy is an officer,
- he can be challenged. - Challenged? To what?
- To a duel, Mr. Fitzroy. - Duel?
Venning, hurry over to the Kaiserhof.
Bring Mr. Clive Candy here at once. Don't come back without him.
Yes, Mr. Fitzroy.
- I told you to hurry, Venning. Don't argue. Go at once! - But...
- Mr. Candy has insulted the whole of the German Army. - I didn't insult anybody.
I said if the army officers belonged to the Alldeutsche Verband with Kaunitz...
Then the German Army ought to be ashamed of itself. That's what you said.
Eighty-two Ulan officers want to challenge you.
Mr. Candy's told me the whole story.
By the way, Candy, that girl you mentioned, is she trustworthy?
Oh, undoubtedly, sir.
Surely it's not suggested that Mr. Candy should fight the whole officer corps.
They're drawing lots, sir, to decide who is to have the honor...
of fighting this gentleman who has not insulted anybody.
Yes, I agree. Have you any suggestions, Colonel?
Militarily speaking, Mr. Candy has no option.
He cannot fight a duel. He must run away.
Politically speaking, such an action would be disastrous.
- Mr. Candy must fight. - Yes, but, gentlemen, one moment.
Surely you're leaving Mr. Candy out of your calculations.
- I'll fight if necessary, sir. - Yes, my dear boy. I know that.
- You'd better go to your hotel and stay there. - Yes, sir.
And could you get in touch with Miss...
Miss Hunter, sir? I believe I could.
Explain to her it's necessary to give the impression...
that your reasons for coming to Berlin were to see her, hmm?
- You're probably in love with her or something of the sort. - I say, sir. But I'm not.
My dear Mr. Candy, you've caused enough trouble already. Do what I ask.
Meanwhile, I and these gentlemen will discuss the best way to get you out of this...
and us.
Well, you are a bloody...
May I have the codex, Herr Eckmeister?
Thank you.
This is our famous Brown Codex, Colonel Goodhead.
The code of honor observed by all duelists.
We thought you might not be familiar with it.
Thank you, I shall study it with attention.
We have permission to offer for the site of the duel...
the gymnasium at the barracks of our regiment.
We agree.
We are now in the position to announce the name of our fellow officer...
who will fight Lieutenant Candy...
Oberleutnant Theodor Kretschmar-Schuldorff.
- May I make a note of that? - With the greatest of pleasure.
- His card. - Thank you.
Have you gentlemen any suggestions regarding choice of leader for the duel?
We suggest the military attaché to the Swedish delegation.
We agree. His name is?
- Colonel Borg. - Colonel Borg.
Regarding sabers, we shall, of course, supply a number to choose from.
- With your permission, we shall supply a number as well. - Most certainly, colonel.
- The choice of sabers will be determined by lot. - I see.
You know, of course, that sabers must not exceed the maximum weight of 60 dekagrams.
- Sixty dekagrams. - We shall make a note of it.
You will, of course, bring your own doctor. We shall bring ours.
We agree.
Do you prefer to strip the upper parts of the bodies of the combatants,
- or do you prefer them in shirtsleeves? - Shirtsleeves.
I see here that paragraph 133 says,
"A few hours previous to the duel, it is advisable to take a bath."
Only the principals, not the seconds.
It's a very strange sensation to be preparing a duel...
between two people who've never even seen each other.
It happens sometimes.
Marriages also, you know?
By the way, has your man ever fought a duel?
No. Has yours?
Strictly between ourselves,
Theo doesn't really approve of duels.
Then, gentlemen, is this fight really necessary?
Sir, there are moments in a soldier's life when his personal feelings do not count.
Oberleutnant Kretschmar-Schuldorff knows his duties very well.
We have not agreed upon the time, gentlemen.
Will 7:00 in the morning be agreeable to you?
- Get it over early? - I agree. Seven o'clock.
It would be advisable to meet half an hour earlier.
At 6:30 a.m. In the gymnasium of the barracks of the Second Ulans.
Here comes our man.
- Morning. Slept well? - Very.
He was still sleeping when I called for him at the hotel.
- They forgot to wake me. - Your nerves are all right, my boy.
- Dr. Crowther, Mr. Candy. - How do you do?
Why wasn't I allowed any breakfast?
- 'Cause the book says not. - It would.
Ah, you'll do.
- Do you want this? - I hope you've read it.
Miss Hunter read it. She says it's a joke, good enough for punch.
- Where is Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff? - He hasn't shown up yet.
I congratulate you on your pronunciation of the name.
I learned it by heart so that when my grandchildren say,
"Grandpa, have you ever cut anybody's ear off?"
I shall be able to say, "Yes, Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff's."
Nobody could invent a name like that. Hello, who's this?
Colonel Borg, the Swedish military attaché. He's going to lead the combat.
Colonel Borg, Mr. Candy.
I must of course use German expressions.
I shall say los for starting, and halt for stop.
- Can you memorize these two words? - I'll try, sir.
Anyhow, at the beginning, I'll be pretty sure that you mean start,
and during the combat, you're not likely to say "start" again.
That is true.
Excuse me.
Seven o'clock. Theo Kretschmar-Schuldorff...
will forfeit his entrance fee if he isn't...
I wish I'd brought my uniform.
- How are you with a saber? - Oh, I don't know. I know which end to hold.
- We drew lots for them. - I hope mine's a nice light one.
All sabers weigh the same.
Seconds, please.
Excuse me, please. Would you undo your shirt?
Thank you.
Right.
Do you want to roll up your sleeve or will you rip it off?
- What's better? - I am not permitted to give advice.
- I think I'll rip it. - It is definitely better.
Doctor, your scissors, please.
- What did he hope to find in there? - Protective bandages.
Good luck, my boy.
Now you alone will come with me, please.
You'd better rub your feet in the rosin.
I shall read now the protocol.
You will start only at the command los.
You must stop the combat if you hear the command halt, whoever may say it.
If you feel to be wounded, you must stop the combat,
and by leaping back you must regain position at the original distance,
even if no "halt" has been commanded.
It is forbidden to seize the weapon of the opponent with the bare hand.
Sekundanten, bitte.
Into fighting position, please.
Ready?
Los!
- They must have started by now. - You never know.
I heard of one chap whose nerve broke.
- Absolutely went all to pieces. - Poor fellow.
He was in such a funk, this chap, that he couldn't even lift his arm.
The seconds tried to lift it for him, but as soon as they let go,
down it dropped like a railroad signal.
Rum.
I say, I hope our chap doesn't get killed. It'll create an awful stink if he does.
Mr. Fitzroy, I think you are the most odious man I've ever met.
And if anything does happen to him, I'll blow up your embassy!
- I say, are you a suffragette? - Never mind, but if anything does happen to Mr. Candy, l...
Oh, you mean Suggie. I was talking about the German fellow.
Why, nothing could possibly ever happen to Suggie.
He won the fencing shield at school two years running.
- Do you know that man has the most... - Oh, look.
- Afternoon, Miss Hunter. - Good afternoon.
- You can go in now, my dear. - How is he?
The doctors say six to eight weeks, not longer.
- Fit as a fiddle. - I'm so glad.
They've given permission for you to stay here in the building.
I'm not staying in Germany, Colonel Goodhead.
I go back tomorrow. I've already telegraphed my father.
- Haven't you told her? - No.
Now, Miss Hunter, you must be sensible.
We're very fortunate that everything has gone off so well.
You wouldn't want to spoil everything, would you?
Spoil everything?
The duel was generally supposed to be about you.
What would people say if you left him now,
wounded and alone in a nursing home?
Naturally, I thought you understood all this.
- Otherwise, why have you come here? - To say good-bye to Mr. Candy.
Go in now, Miss Hunter.
And don't bother about the bills. They have orders to send those to the embassy.
- Good afternoon. - Good afternoon.
Good afternoon, Miss Hunter.
Well.
Bitte.
- Guten Tag... - Good afternoon, Miss Hunter. You are Miss Hunter?
My name is Erna Konig, and I speak really excellent English.
Oh, that's splendid. How is he?
He can neither hear nor speak. It will be very difficult for a day or two until we take the bandages off.
He has a fine cut. His upper lip is very nearly severed.
It is really almost ten centimeters in length. A knife could not have done it better.
- Is he in great pain? - Oh, but certainly.
He is a very lucky man not to have glass splinters in the wound.
- Glass splinters? - It is a very common accident in our winter.
The snow freeze on the boot. The warm room melt the ice.
And the little piece of slippery ice lie in wait for the hurrying foot.
But to fall right through the glass window of the British ambassador...
- that is not so common. - No, indeed.
And would you believe it? We have another accident in the next wing.
An officer. He is cut to the forehead. Twelve stitches.
- Quite a coincidence. - I go now to prepare your room.
- You are staying here, don't you? - Yes, Nurse Erna, I do.
If you wish to speak to him, please to shout.
I have got you into an awful mess.
Awful mess.
You've got me into a mess too.
I forgive you.
Do you want me to write to your people in England?
Parents? Brother? Sister?
Fiancée?
Oh, you want your wallet?
Oh, your aunt. What's the address?
Your aunt seems to like short letters.
What shall I tell her, the truth?
Accident? Hunting accident?
Do you know Oberleutnant Kretschmar-Schuldorff is here?
He has a very bad cut on his forehead.
Eight stitches?
Oh, he has twelve stitches.
Here is refreshment, Miss Hunter. Then you must depart for today.
- When can he have visitors? - Wednesday is visitors' day, Miss Hunter.
- Every Wednesday? - Every Wednesday from 3:00 p.m. To 5:00 p.m.
At 5:00 p.m. A bell is rung for the end of visitors' hours.
- Auf Wiedersehen. - Auf Wiedersehen.
- After you, sir. - Bitte sehr. Darin.
- What's he say, Aubrey? - I think he wants us to go first, sir.
Can't do that, can we?
You and I, you know, together.
- Ach, wie nett. Was können sie bloss sein? - Keine Ahnung.
- Engländer. - Danke, danke, Fräulein.
I had thought that no one could smoke so much as a German officer.
Now I see that a British officer can surpass him.
And not only in smoking, my dear Nurse Erna.
And in what else also?
Eating, drinking, making love, growing mustaches.
Miss Hunter, I'm going to grow a mustache. What is your opinion?
- Excellent. Our dragoons gave you the idea. - You always find me out.
I saw them cross the vestibule preceded by their mustaches.
They nearly caused a diplomatic incident at the door.
They collided with a party of Ulans coming from...
My dear Miss Hunter, soldiers cause military incidents.
They leave diplomacy to the diplomats.
A German officer would shave off his mustache to show that he had a scar.
That's just one of the points where we differ, my dear Nurse Erna.
- Will you like me with a mustache, Miss Hunter? - How do you know you can grow one?
Nurse Erna, Nurse Erna, is it permissible to insult the patients?
- What view, if any, do you take of my great mustache plan? - You are the mustache type.
Thank you.
She's taken away... Always tidying up.
Nurse Erna, where are my... Thank you.
- Is the British Army enjoying itself in Berlin? - On the whole, yes.
They had lunch yesterday in the regimental mess of the First Dragoon Guards.
The kaiser spoke and the Prince of Wales spoke.
- Spoke about what? - Nobody could remember.
- When do they return to London? - In a week. Would you care to accompany them?
- Well, they'll have a special train, surely. - We could always try.
Or you could stay another five weeks and come back with me.
- Great care must be taken of me. - No doubt.
No answer at all. Will you or won't you?
If you stay on, you may get anotherjob.
We'll see. Are we going to play cards?
I've asked Nurse Erna to fix up a bridge four. We don't want to get bored.
The head nurse is finding a suitable couple for you to play with after dinner.
But you must not stay up after 10:30 at the very latest.
- I promise you, Nurse Erna. - You do play?
- Only whist. - It's simple. Let's have a trial game of double dummy.
I will bring a lamp.
You're a good pupil, Edith. That's 32,000 pounds I owe you.
- I'll toss you double or quits. - Agreed.
- All right, what is it? - Heads... No, I mean tails.
Heads it is. We're quits.
Here are cigarettes. But please do remember that smoking is bad for you.
- Ich liebe Sie, Nurse Erna. - You are an angel, Nurse Erna.
There are our guests. Would you let them in?
Frau von Kalteneck, Oberleutnant Kretschmar-Schuldorff.
Miss Hunter, Mr. Candy.
Ich hoffe Sie werden sich gut unterhalten.
- How do you do? - How do you do?
- Kretschmar-Schuldorff. - Yes, I know.
Danke sehr.
I'm very glad you've come.
I promised Theo to make a little speech.
- He would like to have made it himself. - Very much.
Theo knows only two English expressions:
"Very much" and "not very much."
- Stimmt's, Theo? - Very much.
- He would like to have come before. - Very much.
Only he was afraid nobody could translate to you what he says.
Miss Hunter speaks German.
She sprechen German.
Nicht sehr gut.
Ich finde Sie reden ausgezeichnet.
Theo has heard that you were took part in the South Africa campaign.
- Ja, ja. - And that you have won a very famous medal.
- Ja, Victoria... Uh. Ja, cross. - Victoria Cross.
He envies you because a German officer knows about war only from the newspapers.
- And mostly wrongly. - And mostly wrongly.
- Let's have a drink, shall we? Sherry? - I would love a glass of sherry.
- Would you like sherry? - Not very much.
Port?
She and I, we drink "Kirchwater."
Kirchwasser.
Yes, that's right. "Kirchwater." Do you like it?
Very, very much.
Let me help you.
Do you know Berlin, Mr. Candy?
The Hotel Kaiserhof, the British Embassy, the Café Höhenzollern,
and the gymnasium of the barracks of the Second Ulans.
I hope we shall be able to show you more than that.
- Eine Zigarette, Oberleutnant? - Furchtbar nett. Danke sehr.
- Do you like the opera? Concerts? - I prefer riding, hunting or polo.
I adore hunting, and I love sports.
Interessieren Sie sich für Sport, gnädige Fräulein?
Nein, ich habe keinerlei Talent für Sports.
Cut for partners.
- You and I. - Sie und ich.
- What's he say? - I hope we shall be able to play every night.
- Oh, yes. Rather. - Very much.
- I say. - Oh, Babyface, I want you a moment.
- What is it, those nursing home accounts? - Yeah.
Would you kindly explain what the deuce this item means?
- Forty packs of playing cards? - Oh, that.
It's enough for the casino at Monte Carlo.
I spoke to Miss Hunter about it. But she says the evenings were so long...
- there's nothing much to do at Stolpchensee in the winter. - Very well.
- Don't you ever do any work? - What?
Oh, these. First time this year. I draw it mild.
Well, don't catch a cold. These nursing homes are an expensive business.
- Is Miss Hunter returning to England? - As far as I know.
- Not at our expense, I hope. - Good heavens, no. She was going anyway.
- So was Candy, for that matter. - I know.
He had a return ticket. It's expired.
- Very well. Buy him a new one. - Righto.
And get Candy to give you that old ticket of his.
We'll claim a refund at Cooks.
Those things belong to Theo. Put them with the alarm clock.
- How's your own packing going? - Not fast.
Well, you'd better hurry up then.
- I'll be all right. - Don't you be so sure.
We've only got half an hour if we're going to call at the embassy first.
- Stop moving about. - I'm not moving about!
Keep your hair on.
I say, old girl, what's up?
Edith, I say. What's the matter?
It's not because I didn't call for you yesterday, is it?
- You know Frau von Kalteneck left for the south last night. - Did she?
- You knew she was going? - I'd forgotten.
It's not my fault if you don't like horses, is it?
We went to see her riding stables. She's got some fine beasts.
They're a bit fat though. I say, old girl. Do stop crying.
- Supposing somebody came in. - Nobody will come in.
Look.
I promise to take you out the first night we get back to London.
Her Majesty's Theater, The Last of the Dandies.
They say it's an awfully good show.
- But the papers say... - What paper? What do you mean?
Is that's what's making you cry?
The papers say there was a play at Her Majesty's called Ulysses.
Oberleutnant Kretschmar-Schuldorff returns your books, Mr. Candy.
He is on his way to see you.
- Oh, I must hurry. - You'd better. I'll meet you in the hall.
What am I to do with them? I don't read German. Miss Hunter got them for me.
- You can present them to our library. - Clever, Nurse Erna.
But I must write my name in them so Clive Candy's name...
will live forever in a corner at Stolpchensee.
- May I come in? - Come in, me old horse, me old steeplechaser.
- Wo ist Edith? - Packing.
Wieso packing? Wieso packing?
Well, of course. Und Sie? How much longer Sie?
- Oh, ich, eine week, oder... - Two weeks?
Two week. Ja.
- Clive, Edith come here translate. - I can translate.
Don't interrupt Edith. She'll never be ready.
Shall I fetch Miss Hunter?
Ich mussen call at embassy, old man.
Get my ticket nach London.
Ja. Bitte, wollen Sie das gnädige Fräulein hier holen?
- Drink? - Nein, uh,
- not now. - All right.
What the blazes is up with everybody today?
Clive, you und I, friends, yes?
Or no?
Well, of course we're friends.
We must...
duel again.
Where's your dictionary, old man? You must've got two pages stuck together.
I love...
your...
Jetzt habe ich das Wort vergessen.
Your Miss Hunter.
Say that again.
I love your Miss Hunter.
- You're cuckoo. - Nein. Ich nein cuckoo.
You cuckoo...
because Miss Hunter... loves me.
Congratulations. When did it happen?
- Why don't I know about it? - No duel?
Duel? I? Ich fight anyone who tried to stop it.
- Now will you have a drink? - Double drink.
You know, old boy, Edith was never my fiancée.
- Ach, fiancée. Das ist das Wort das ich nicht finden konnte. - No, not my fiancée.
Lovely girl. Sweet girl, but not my fiancée.
- Cheers. - Bottom up.
- Herein. - Come in.
Ah, Nurse Erna. Come and have a drink.
- Where's the fiancée? - Dass sie will nicht kommen?
She won't come down? Then we go up. Come on Theo.
Moment, moment. Die Flaschen.
Und the glasses.
Edith.
- Come in. - Edith, my child. I feel like a proud father.
- Do you, Clive? Why? - I have to give you away, don't I?
- Who told you? - I told. - In fluent double German.
Das einzige Wort das ich nicht finden konnte war fi...
- Fiancée. - Fiancée, ja.
A toast.
Here's to the happiness of my fiancée, who was never my fiancée.
And here's to the man who tried to kill me before he was introduced to me.
- Prost. - Prost.
- May I kiss the bride? - Why ask? I did not ask.
- Good-bye, Clive. - Good-bye, Edith, old girl.
I hope we'll meet again sometime.
I'm sure we shall.
Now, listen to me, you son of a gun.
You won't understand a word of what I'm going to say, but...
I came to Berlin to find a rat, and I found two of the grandest people I've ever met.
I leave to you, you Prussian stiffneck, you, this girl in trust.
And if you don't take care ofher, I'll raise the whole of England against you.
The navy will steam up your stinking Stolpchensee,
and I'll lead the army down Unter den Linden, and we'll...
Clive,
my English is not very much,
but my friendship for you...
is very much.
- I hope it's taught you a damn good lesson, Candy. - Yes, sir.
The trouble with you young fellows is you always want to go changing everything.
And what's the result?
You spend all your leave in a nursing home full of foreigners.
You've cost the treasury a lot of money.
And you make the foreign office very cross.
Yes, very cross.
And what did you get for it? Your beauty spoiled.
You weren't any fashion plate before.
- I'd be surprised if any woman would look twice at you now. - So would I, sir.
When you were here in January, I told you very clearly it was not your concern.
- It was an embassy job. - Well, sir, I thought I'd take a chance.
A chance? A chance?
You can't afford to take a chance with your career, my boy.
You are in the army as a career, aren't you? Not for five minutes?
You were putting up a pretty good show. Then you go barging in on this nonsense...
and you come very near to getting yourself kicked out.
- You don't want to get kicked out, do you? - No, sir.
Well, let me tell you one thing.
Don't bother your head with things you don't understand and you won't go far wrong.
Never go off at half cock.
Keep cool, keep your mouth shut, and avoid politicians like the plague.
- That's the way to get on in the army. - Thank you, sir.
Care to dine at my club tonight?
- Sorry, sir. I'm taking someone to the theater. - Pretty?
I haven't met her yet, sir.
You're still a bit cracked, my boy.
Well, I hope you improve as you get older.
And cheer up, my boy.
Yes, sir.
Father, whose oath in hollow hell is heard,
whose act is lightning after thunder word,
a boon, a boon that I compassion find...
for one, the most unhappy of mankind.
- How is he named? - Ulysses, he who planned to take the towered city of Troy land.
- What wouldst thou? - This, that he at the last may view...
- the smoke of his own fire upcurling blue. - Where abides the man?
Calypso this long while detains him in her languorous ocean isle.
Father of gods, this man hath stricken blind my dear son Polyphemus.
With wind, with roaring waves, I may let him be hurled from sea to sea...
- and dashed about the world. - Peace, children.
From your shrew reviling cease.
Hermes, command Calypso to release Ulysses...
and to waft him over seas.
Ulysses shall return.
Cloud gatherer, stay.
Yet canst thou work in mischief on the way.
Ere he touch at last his native shore,
Ulysses must abide one labor more.
- Thank you. Where's the bar? - Darling, do control yourself.
- I say, there's old Suggie. - Really, darling? Where?
Suggie.
- Suggie! - Thou, Father, in thy youth...
didst feel at least for mortal women rue.
To Leda, Leto, Danae, we are told...
didst surely on occasion tender...
Who's the girl with Clive, darling? Do you know her?
- As a matter of fact I do. - Well, darling, who is she?
I believe he met her sister in Berlin.
Darling, why all this mystery?
- Who is she? - My niece's governess. A Miss Hunter.
Wonders will never cease. Sybil Gilpin out without her mother, and with Hoppy too.
- Well, didn't you know, Mr. Candy? They're married. - Hoppy and Sybil?
Over a month ago. The family were quite taken by surprise.
It was very romantic and sudden.
And they met here in this very theater.
I know. I seem to be a born matchmaker.
- Hello, Pebble. - Master Clive.
- Your aunt is asleep. - All right, don't disturb her.
I didn't feel like going to the club this evening.
- You're not sick, Master Clive? - No.
I say, Pebble. How did you feel when you buried Mr. Pebble?
It wasn't so bad at the time, Master Clive. There was so much to do.
- It was after that it got bad, if you understand me. - Hmm.
- I hope you haven't come from a burying, sir. - No, from the theater.
But it was the same thing in a way.
- Was it a sad play? - On the contrary, it was a musical play.
- Is the bed in the den made up? - No, sir.
But it won't take a minute if you don't mind sleeping in blankets.
There isn't time to air the sheets. Lady Margaret has made some changes...
Pebble. What is going on down there?
- Am I staying? - I suppose so, since there's no man here to throw you out.
- I say, who put up my South African heads? - I don't know.
- They don't look half so bad, do they? - No.
Pebble, stop fussing like an old hen and go to your bed.
Yes, milady.
- Good night, Master Clive. - Good night.
- Now, even money that some catastrophe has brought you here. - You're on.
- Debts? A woman? - No.
- Not exactly. - Explain.
- I went to the theater tonight. - Alone?
- With a girl. - And why, pray, is she "not exactly"?
Oh, it was nothing to do with her.
Hmm, perhaps. See anyone there you knew?
- I met Hoppy and Sybil Gilpin. They're married. - Why not? A very suitable match.
He has money and she has land and neither of them has any brains.
- You surely weren't in love with her? - With Sybil? Oh, no.
I'm glad of that. She has the muscles of a prize fighter. She'll hit Hoppy one day.
- Hoppy could give her a couple of stone. - She'll soon make that up.
I assure you.
Who is this girl you took to the theater tonight?
A Miss Hunter. I met her sister in Berlin.
- Is she nice? - Very. I mean the sister.
- Which sister? - The one that stayed in Berlin.
Then the one in London is not so nice, I take it.
- No. - I see.
Now, listen, Clive.
I have 18 rooms here, a bone-idle staff eating their heads off...
and when you come home from South Africa,
- you go straight to your club. - I know. It's awful.