This is the BBC Home Service.
Here is the news at nine o'clock.
The unsuccessful evacuation of our armed forces from Dunkirk
has resulted in over a quarter of a million of our troops
stranded in occupied France.
The Ministry of Defense has announced
that, as of this moment, we should expect a full German invasion of this country
over the forthcoming weeks.
Bandits bearing one, zero, one.
Stay tight. We should have a visual any minute.
Listen up, Johnny, it's just you and me now.
Stick close and don't do anything foolish.
Roger, Red Leader. I'm right behind you.
Right. Let's see how many of these bastards we can take with us.
There they are. Bombers, three o'clock, low.
For King and country. Tally ho!
Johnny! I said stay on my wing!
But I've got one in my sight.
Don't be a bloody fool!
There's a Kraut with the hots for you. You're a sitting duck, man!
He's got me, I'm hit!
Johnny! Get out of there! Use your damn parachute!
I can't! My canopy's stuck!
Help!
You rotters! You stinking rotters!
All right, this is for Johnny
and all the others!
Ha! Take that, Fritzy.
- Damn, I'm hit!
I'm going down!
We're done for.
It's all over to you now, the people of England.
Tell my wife I love her very much.
I'm going to bring my little barges across the water.
Ach! You win again, Herr Goebbels.
You stopped me from invading England.
I did, I did!
That makes it three-nil.
But still, this hasn't solved the problem of the invasion.
Oh, hi, boys!
Himmler!
Goering, old bean, you're looking good.
Hello, Goebbels. How are you feeling, little fellow?
I beat Herr Goering at war!
So, you still can't find a way into England, Goering?
Nein. I have tried everything.
Zis endless fog over the Englander Channel
has prevented all of our plans for invading England.
Well, now that the whole of ze Englander army is stuck in France
and ze RAF is annihilated!
Ah-da, da-da, da-da!
Ze Fuhrer has an ingenious plan of attack.
Oh, what is it, Herr Himmler?
I have tried every possible means of attacking zat little island.
He wants us to dig under ze Englander Channel
right into ze heart of London,
capture Herr Winston Churchill from Downing Street,
zen lock him in a cage!
Ooh, what a beautiful plan, mein Fuhrer.
Did you hear that, Goebbels, darling?
- We will be summering in London! - Oh, joyous joy!
Oh-ho! Not even the Englander weather can prevent us now!
Chris. Come on, lad, tea break's over.
- Put them big hands to use. - Coming, Tom.
Back to the village for a pie and a pint, I reckon.
Right. Let's get this harvest home.
Hyah!
Come on, there, boy, come on.
Ah, another day in God's glorious kingdom!
- Morning, Vicar. - Good morning, Albert.
Lovely day for it.
Then I attacked the second bunker and destroyed three more tanks
before holding off the German army single-handed,
- only to find I was still stuck in France. - What did you do?
I swam the 20-odd miles of Channel back to Dover,
whereupon I was presented with my second Victoria Cross.
Oh! Captain English, you're so brave!
Yes, I know.
And handsome.
I suppose I am, rather.
Now, tell me, Reverend,
how is that fine young daughter of yours?
She's well, thank you, Captain.
A minor hiccup at boarding school. In need of a little direction now, I think.
- Have a look at my tulips. - Daisy...
come and say hello to Captain English.
Igor!
Jawohl, Herr Kapitan?
We are 50 miles from London.
Prepare to test weapons.
Jawohl, Herr Kapitan!
- Ah, the harvest has come home.
Ah, a good turnout this year.
And look, there's lovely Daisy.
As charming and as sweet as the first rose in spring.
Daisy? What's she doing back from boarding school so early?
Yes, it is hard, juggling one's career
between saving England and modeling Brylcreem and rugby shorts.
Amazing!
Now...
- Hello, Daisy. - Chris!
- Ooh! Oh, my goodness. - Oh, careful.
Here, let me get those for you.
Oh, sorry, they're a little bit crushed.
Oh, don't worry, Chris, it's all right.
So, you're a farmer now. I thought you always wanted to join the army.
No, they said my hands are too big.
They said hands like this is more valuable in a cornfield than in a battlefield.
Oh, you and your big hands.
Always got you into trouble, like that time at Sunday school.
So, are you gonna be around these parts for a while, then?
Oh, it looks that way. Father wants me to become a FANY.
- You what? - A FANY. First Aid Nursing Yeomanry.
We're all young FANY here. Matron Rutty is our head FANY.
Girls, do your bit!
Join my FANY and see the world!
Daisy! Where the hell are you?
Oh, that's Father. I'd better be off.
Bye, Chris. Oh, and it was nice seeing you again.
Bye, Daisy.
What were you doing talking to that boy?
It's only Chris, Father. We used to be friends.
Don't be ridiculous, Daisy.
The village orphan, with those fat, retarded hands?
Oh, take no notice of what they say, lad.
Herr Kapitan, target sighted.
Eine small Englander village.
Excellent. Stand by, all stations.
Hang on, hang on...
- Oh, my goodness!
Watch out, there's a whiff of Fritz in the air.
Oh, my gosh.
Oh, dear.
Open ze bomb bay!
Achtung.
Was ist das?
Ein perambulator?
Ein Englander baby?
Igor. Bomb. Los!
- Run for your lives!
Nazi bomb! Look out!
Oh, shit, it's heading for the baby's pram.
Bloody 'ell.
Shitbuckets! That's blown my chances of marrying off Daisy.
Reverse engines. Schnell!
Come on, what are you waiting for? He's a sitting duck!
Action stations!
Here we go, lads!
Tom, get the hay off that cart and load up the machine gun.
Let's go hunt some Germans.
Let 'em have it, girls!
- Ha! Bullets will do nothing
against the armour plating!
Fire!
- Christopher, these bullets are useless.
We need to get the flak gun working, lad.
Right, Tom.
Keep firing!
- Get this thing up and running! - I can't, it's stuck.
- Right, let her rip, Albert. - Here we go.
Don't worry, I'll get the bugger.
- Aargh! - You got him, Albert.
We are losing altitude!
We must gain height. Drop ze ballast.
It is not good, Herr Kapitan, we are too heavy!
We must lose more weight!
We cannot let ze zeppelin fall into enemy hands.
For ze fatherland, Igor.
Jawohl, Herr Kapitan.
Heil Hitler!
Aaaargh!
A slight improvement in altitude, sir.
Raus!
Heil Hitler!
- We've got him on the run!
He's on the run!
Bye-bye, Englanders!
Spitfire!
Look, Tom.
Yeah, and I reckon that's the last of the few.
Shiiiiiit!
Ah!
Whoo-ee!
Crash and burn! Just like my second marriage.
Hey, what the? What's this?
Smells like Russky propaganda.
Shit.
It looks like England just screwed the pooch.
- I gotta haul ass to London.
These commies ain't seen the last of Billy Fiske!
- Yaah!
I can't be doing with all these politics of war and suchlike.
Much rather spend me time painting landscapes,
or building a wall.
Nice cul-de-sac for our retirement, eh, Pinkypoo?
- Just three more days till me pension.
- Morning paper, sir? - Ah, thank you.
What's this? Invasion looms?
Hitler will invade today?
Blast!
So much for an early retirement.
'Ere, are you Mr Winston Churchill?
Hmm? What?
Why, yes, I am.
Is that your cat? He looks like Hitler.
What? Pinkypoo?
- Stuff and nonsense.
And what the bloody hell is going on up there?
Who the devil are you?
Joseph Kaplinsky,
Polish Electrical Services.
I make better telegraph lines for you.
You can't just go putting up new telegraph lines wherever you damn well please!
This is a listed road, man.
Bah, I don't know why Hitler bothered with you Polish lot.
- Les Anglais...
- There's a foreigner down on the beach. - How can you tell, Albert?
He's funny-looking, and he's up to something.
Oh, let's have a look.
It's just a fisherman, Albert.
You can never be too careful these days.
Albert, if the Nazis invade,
do you really think they'll do it in a little boat like that?
Well, I'm going to keep an eye on him.
- Just as the sun was rising - Huh?
I heard a maiden sing
- In the valley below - Huh.
Oh, don't des...
Ooh, good morrow, kind sir.
Alors.
Ja, that's it! Keep drilling!
London can't be far now!
How's that foreigner getting on down there, Albert?
He's getting on all right, by the looks of things.
Another cup of tea, Christopher?
- No, thanks. - You all right, my lad?
'Ere, I know what's wrong. He's all loved up with that vicar's daughter.
Ah, leave it out.
Can't join the army, can't join the navy,
can't even get in the blinkin' Home Guard.
Sorry, Chris, but you know the army's rules about hands.
Yeah, fingers too big to fit in the trigger guard.
Now that's just nonsense.
They're a fine set of paws you got there, lad,
don't let anybody tell you no different.
How the hell can I fight a Nazi invasion with a pitchfork and a tractor?
Invasion? Nah, there won't be no invasion, lad.
Yeah, they won't get past us.
There's absolutely nothing we ain't thought of.
- English Chronicle! English Chronicle!
Invasion looms! Read all about it!
- English Chronicle! - Oh, God, another day at the office.
Drives me up the bleedin' wall.
Veg! Get your lovely veg!
'Ere y'are, darlin', you need your greens.
Dutch tulips! Get 'em while they're good!
Get your veg! Come on!
Oh, I say, what is that noise?
What's that?
What the?
What's this? Some kind of earthquake?
I say, Pomfrey, do you hear what I hear?
What the dickens?
Holy shit.
Jesus Christ!
Fuckin' Ada!
- Look! Nelson's Column.
Herr Himmler, success. We are in London.
Ahhh, excellent!
Right through ze Northern Line.
They'll be having delays on zat for ze next hundred years!
Kill zem! Kill zem all!
God's teeth!
Feuer!
- Do not run.
Ze German army is your friend.
Ugh, look at all them Nazis.
Hey, don't worry, kid. I'm an American.
Old Billy Fiske is gonna go get some payback. Yeah!
My flowers! My beautiful flowers!
Buggers are here! Tunnelled right up into our back entrance.
What? Retirement shall have to wait.
It is time for action.
Sir, no, your place is here. We can't risk losing you. You must stay in the bunker.
We have no army left. Who else is going to defend Downing Street?
We still have Major Rupee and his brave Punjabi guards.
I guarantee they will stand and fight.
Brave men of the Punjab,
we are the last of the remaining Empire,
the only soldiers England has left.
Their army has surrendered, helpless, on the shores of Dunkirk.
So now this honour has been bestowed on us -
us, the men of the Raj.
And when the time comes we will all do our duty for England
and protect Churchill Sahib at all costs!
Whoo-ee!
What in the name of?
Bloody 'ell, it's Billy Fiske!
Well, if it ain't Major Rupee and his pack of Injuns.
You mean to tell me that out of the whole bloody Royal Air Force
the only pilot to survive the Battle of Britain was...
An American! That's right, hot dog.
Mornin', boys.
I suppose you have come to pay me that 50 American dollars you owe me?
Nope. Wallet got shot out of my pants this morning.
Your 50 bucks is somewhere over France now, buddy.
I might have known!
That is the last time I play poker with some half-wit, two-bit crop-duster pilot.
Oh, yeah? Pal, half the Soviet army is around that corner.
You mean German.
They're gonna roll their tanks up this street like shit through a goose,
so quit your jabbering and saddle up.
- Lock and load, guys! - Make ready, men!
Hey, pal, time to take a hike.
No, no! I nearly finished!
Crazy-ass Polack.
OK, Rupe, let's light the candles.
Corporal, light the invasion beacon! They are on their way.
Yes, Major. Light the beacon!
It's the beacon at Whitehall!
Light the beacon!
What's that?
Blimey.
It's the beacon at Crystal Palace!
Fire the beacon, lads! It's the invasion!
The beacon at Croydon's been lit, sir!
Father, look! It's the invasion beacon at Maidstone.
They've come.
It's the invasion. Look!
Light the beacon, Albert.
Back to the village, lads. There ain't much time.
Sacre bleu!
Take up your positions, men!
Come on, you guys, get that MG movin'.
We've got ourselves a war to win!
All right, commie assholes,
it's time to hammer down the sickle.
Got it, I've got it.
- Quiet, quiet, it's the news.
This is the BBC Home Service.
Here is the news at 12 o'clock.
The German army has invaded London.
I repeat. The German army has invaded London.
London! I don't believe it.
Why can't they stay in their own country?
The Prime Minister will now make a speech
from the Cabinet War Rooms in Downing Street.
My dear countrymen,
my dear friends.
Never in the field of human conflict
was so much
buggered up by so few for so many.
- This isl...
What's wrong with it?
Germany calling, Germany calling.
Hello, Englanders!
Zis is ze voice of ze Nazis!
Ze whole of ze BBC are now dead.
We have successfully invaded your capital city of London,
und are ready to capture your beloved prime minister,
Herr Winston Churchill, from Downing Strasse - oh, ja -
who we have a very special message for.
Do not hide. We will find you.
You are as good as captured...
fat boy.
No one can escape ze Third Reich!
... that is all I have to say on the matter.
Apart from my elite Punjabi guards,
we have absolutely no military defence whatsoever.
Therefore I ask any of you who are in any way able to come to our aid,
- to do so immediately. - We're buggered.
When I give the order, we should retreat to...
Where should we retreat to, Monty?
How the hell should I know?
Retreat to, er...
Retreat to...
...Scot Land.
The Land of the Scots?!
But, sir, the... the Scots are hordes of murderous blood-drinking savages.
Retreat to Scot Land.
Head north to Hadrian's Wall.
Good luck, and God save us all.
- Should we go to Scot Land?
Scot Land?
Hadrian's Wall?
Surrender seems to be our only option.
You hear that? They're talking about surrender.
I've never been to London. Where is it? Let's go back to the pub.
- Father, they're leaving. - Stay and fight!
- Be more like the foreigner. - Like who?
The foreigner. Him.
That's my wife!
- Who's he? - Found him down on the beach.
La guerre? Je vive pour la guerre!
- Resistance fighter, no doubt. - Tu deconnes ou quoi?
Je m'appelle Gaston Le Roq!
Je suis francais!
Ah, sod this, I'm off home.
You'll have no homes left to go back to.
- What's wrong with you all? - Chris?
Have you forgotten what being English means?
It means being free.
I might just be a simple farm boy, but at least I'm a free simple farm boy.
What does freedom mean to you?
Freedom to grow your own crops and graze livestock.
Think what they'll do to your farms.
Your cows, Farmer Grey.
Your pigs, Mr and Mrs Sparrow.
I've got a ferret.
Think what will happy to your FANY, Matron Rutty.
Join me...
so that in future years you can proudly say,
"I fought for England!"
Now who is with me?
Are you ready for a war?
We got no guns.
He's right, Christopher. We used up all our weapons against that zeppelin.
Huh? Pas de probleme.
- Merde.
Voila.
All right, you fuckers,
arm yourselves!
Wow, Chris, when did you get so tough?
Phew, I like it.
The army won't be able to hold out for long.
We need to get to London. It's not far, we can make it if we move now.
Don't be bloody ridiculous, boy. How do you propose we get there?
On old Betty.
- Bastard!
TNT, up the line!
I am coming, Sahib!
Pack as much TNT into the barricades as you can.
These firecrackers will bust their German bottoms right back to Berlin!
Achtung! Achtung!
All units, proceed towards Downing Street
und take out ze number ten house.
... Downing Strasse.
All of you FANYs go with Tom, make your way to Hadrian's Wall.
We're heading for London!
Just keep your big hands off my daughter, boy.
It's time to take out the Russky trash.
You mean Nazi trash!
I am frightened, Sahib.
Stay close to me.
A lot of people are going to die today.
Fire!
Tank coming! Left flank!
Hey! I'm working here!
MG-42, right flank.
Get some!
Fall back! Fall back to the second barricade, men!
Fall back!
Oops.
Gott im Himmel! We must take out ze number ten house!
That is where ze dog Churchill is hiding.
Take it out!
Jawohl, Herr Obergruppenfuhrer.
Oi! Wrong bleedin' 'ouse! Churchill's next door!
You missed!
Number ten house!
Not ze number nine house,
ze number ten house!
Number ten house. Fire!
Schweinhunds! Missed again!
Not ze number eleven house, not ze number nine house -
ze one in the middle, number ten!
We're approaching London.
Full steam ahead!
Oh, I say.
Fall back, men. I'm going to blow the barricades.
I cannot lift you, sir. You're just too heavy.
Buddy, we got about ten seconds before these barricades pop.
But Sergeant Erummel is the heaviest soldier in the Punjab.
No man can lift him.
I grew up liftin' redwoods in South Dakota.
No little Injun's gonna weigh Billy Fiske down. I got ya, buddy.
Never leave a man behind!
Fiske! Get out of there!
Don't leave me!
Home run!
Whoa, that was intense, Billy Fiske.
Hell, that's what all the gals say.
Everybody, take cover.
- Fire in the hole! - Fire in the hole!
Yee-ha!
What the hell are those blasted Punjabis doing up there?
Nearly brought down the whole bloody house.
You, uh... You think you used enough dynamite there, buddy?
It has not stopped them!
Unless we get through that wall, Mr Churchill is finished.
- Hey, what's that sound?
Oh, they're attacking from both bloody ends!
Holy balls on a buffalo!
We're here to rescue Mr Churchill.
Well, just in the nick of bloody time too.
Get into the house! Go, go, go!
I hear ya, Rupee.
Door breach!
Let's go rescue the President.
- Now what? Who the devil are you, sirs? - Prime Minister!
- We've come to rescue you, sir. - Billy Fiske, American Volunteers.
They brought some crazy-ass war machine to bust you outta here.
Aha! Finally a chance to face Fritz.
Sir, you'll need a gun.
- No problem. Monty? - Yes, sir!
Aha! A little cubbyhole.
Mum's the word, eh, lads? Wife doesn't know.
Shall we, gentlemen?
- Follow me! - Move, move!
We need to get past those tanks.
If we stay here, we're trapped like rats in a barrel.
Oh-ho!
Eat hot lead, Fritz!
Look what you've done to me wall, you young hooligan!
Sorry, sir! Daisy, let's go, come on.
That's your ticket out of here. Get on, Winston!
Mr President, you gotta get your ass outta here.
Allez!
There's not enough power! We need to get more steam into her.
Do something, boy!
Coal! We need to build up the pressure until she hits 150,
then yank down on the handbrake!
Don't let her hit 160 or she'll blow!
Right, Chris.
Get zis turret working!
Pressure... thirty.
More coal! Come on, come on!
Faster, faster!
Sixty!
Hey! Stop! Stop!
He's stuck. The bastard's stuck.
Schweinhunds!
No, no, I not finish yet!
Come on, come on!
Schnell, schnell! He's getting away!
Eins, zwei...
...vier, funf...
Pressure... a hundred and ten!
...zehn, elf...
...vierzehn...
...achtzehn... - A hundred and twenty!
Destroy zat steam engine!
One hundred and thirty!
- We're nearly there! - Pressure... one hundred and fifty!
Now! Fire!
Incoming!
London is ours!
I wanna go 'ome.
Ja, das Ritz Cafe -
das Fritz Cafe!
So where shall we go now, Herr Goering?
- Our new home! - Yoo-hoo!
Forward to Buckingham Palace!
Ahem. Er, excuse me, but this happens to be my house.
Take him to ze Tower of London!
- You fools! You bloody fools!
Don't you realise?
I'm three-quarters German!
They're burning London.
Our great city has suffered much this day.
Only Nazi scum would stoop so low!
- Chris. - Oh. Morning, Daisy.
Chris, you've been driving all night.
- Why didn't you sleep? - I didn't want to waste time.
Aren't you cold? I've got a blanket if you...
No, I'm all right. The fire's still blazing.
It's so calm and peaceful. You wouldn't think there was a war going on.
Yeah, it's, er... it's pretty beautiful, isn't it?
You've done so much, Chris,
so much for England.
Ah, what a wonderful morning the Good Lord has brought us,
eh, bastard?
Ah, time for breakfast and a nice cigar.
I wonder how Major Rupee and the Punjabis got out of London.
Yo, Indians! I got me some new wings!
Race ya to Hadrian's Wall!
Whoo-hoo!
What is this place?
The remains of the Lost Legion.
In the final years of his rule,
Roman emperor Hadrian sent troops to the outer borders of England.
They never returned.
This is their tomb.
Hadrian's Wall. Look, Daisy!
It's a bloody miracle.
Open the gates, lad! Open the gates!
It's Chris, and Prime Minister Churchill!
They made it! Bring 'em in, lads.
Whoo-ee! Now that's what I call American spirit.
We have arrived.
'Tis a great feat of English endurance.
But endurance breeds appetite.
So tonight we feast!
There certainly is an abundance of young females, eh?
Hey, Rupes, she's lookin' at ya.
Oh, she looks dirty.
Back in '79...
and there I was, out of ammunition and surrounded.
Fuzzies everywhere.
Oh, such bravery!
Look, everyone's here. It's a miracle we all made it.
That's right, Christopher.
Dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.
Mr Churchill?
A lost soul on the eve of battle.
Go and see if he's all right, lad.
Hello? Mr Churchill?
Hello?
Albert. Albert, look down there.
A basket.
- What is it, Tom? - Albert, it's a baby.
There, there, young 'un, it's all right, don't cry. Uncle Tom's here.
What is this thing?
It's only a baby, Vicar, we found him in the reeds there.
Ah, that is no mortal child. Look at the bastard's hands.
The sign of Lucifer.
Tie a stone round its neck, and cast it back into the river.
Rid us of its evil!
I think I'll call him Christopher.
Do as you wish, but be it on your eternal souls.
I shall not baptise that creature. He is one of them!
- Them? - Them. Them from the North.
Ah, Mr Churchill.
Old uniforms, sir. Must be left over from years ago.
Aha, the old 42nd.
They were posted up here under the command of the Duke of Wellington.
See to it that they are distributed amongst the men.
Yes, sir.
- 'Ere, squire, look at my jacket. - That won't fit you.
Nice, innit? Nice bit of fabric, that, yeah.
Hey, nice uniforms, guys!
Christopher, I must thank you for saving my life.
You would make a fine soldier.
Well, the government don't think so. They reckon my hands are too big.
And... (Chuckles)... well...
they are pretty big.
The government? I am the government.
And so, from this day on, you are a soldier
in His Majesty's forces.
Oh, thank you, sir, thank you so much. I won't let you down, I promise.
I'm counting on it.
The battle for London is over.
The battle for England is about to begin.
Mr Churchill!
Mr Churchill, Chris! Look at the sky!
Aha, aurora borealis. The northern lights.
Lts name comes from the Roman goddess of dawn.
Ancient Norse mythology suggests
that the light came from the Valkyries riding through the sky,
collecting the dead from the battlefields,
but it's little more than an atmospheric phenomenon,
though rather spectacular, I must say.
Isn't it beautiful, Chris?
Yes, it is.
But... (Chuckles)... tonight is not the night for you two to be listening
to the ramblings of an old man.
Shall we go somewhere else?
You know, I've always loved you, Daisy.
- Oh, my gosh.
We brought Christmas early!
London is ours! Jawohl!
Ooh, ooh! Ohhh!
- Goebbels, my Liebling!
- Da-daaa!
Well, hello, boys. It's me!
Heil Hitler!
What do you think? Lovely fabric, isn't it? Feel it, feel it.
You look fabulous, mein Fuhrer.
I'm so sorry. If we'd only known of your arrival.
Oh, you didn't think I would miss zis, did you?
A fancy-dress party in the Palace of Buckingham?
Now tell me, Mr Himmy-Himmy-Himmler, what have you all been up to?
Ooh, well, mein Fuhrer, since you have been in Paris,
a most excellent accomplishment has been achieved.
Up until recently, mein Fuhrer,
ze Englander underground was a complete and utter shambles.
More like a spaghetti than a functional railway, mein Fuhrer.
Zis better be going somewhere. I got an early flight from Versailles for zis.
You're going to love zis.
Da-daaa!
We have brought efficiency to ze London Unterground!
All lines lead to der Vaterland.
I may have ze body of a weak und feeble Nazi,
but I do have a really big...
Luger!
We did not conquer zis backward country in order to bring it culture and discipline.
We came to capture Herr Winston Churchill.
So why is that cage empty?
You let Churchill get away? Of all ze incompetent, idiotic...
Mobilise ze army north.
Send zem into damn Scot Land if you have to.
- Ah, yes, of course.
Of course.
Zat must be where zey are hiding - the Land of the Scots!
Zey know we would never try to attack
in fear of what lies beyond zat great Hadrian's Wall.
- Scot Land, m-m-mein Fuhrer?
B-b-but ze stories!
Not even ze Romans went beyond ze great Hadrian's Wall.
Who knows what evil lies up there?
Enough! You will attack Scot Land
und capture Herr Winston Churchill...
immediately!
I love you, Hans.
- Sacre bleu!
Stone the bleedin' crows!
Awake, man-slobs. We have a war to win.
Huh?
Well, I drank four pints of sherry.
- Heh! It was a damn fine evening. - Wakey-wakey, boys, rise and shine.
Stand to, men.
Eyes front!
Straighten up that line.
Good morning, Rupee.
Ah, Churchill Sahib.
Your men look magnificent.
Thank you, sir. All men present, correct, and uniforms fitting perfectly.
- Morning, Prime Minister! - And a good morning to you, too.
And a fine Highland morning it is too, sir.
Now, Rupee, how are things shaping up?
Ah, well, sir, every farmer in England is here.
I bring my lads from Whitby, North Yorkshire.
The men from Broad Oak, Herefordshire, are ready, Prime Minister.
The Thornthwaite Cumberland boys. Hooray!
Splendid, splendid.
It's not much, but they have a great heart.
The finest of our English agriculture.
The salt of our earth.
Just as Cromwell looked upon his New Model Army at the field of Naseby
in 1645, eh, Rupee?
Er... yes, sir.
We also have an air force. Billy Fiske has rustled up a biplane
and is giving basic flying lessons now.
All right, hot dog, listen up, cos I'm only gonna tell you this once more.
You press that to start the engine,
you press that to fire your guns.
Engines... guns... right.
OK. Now take her up and show me what you got.
Yeah, right. OK.
Third time lucky. Here we go.
And where the blazes do you think you have been?
- Father, I can explain. - No need to explain, young lady!
I understand perfectly.
If you think that being in Scot Land
is a licence to get your fat hands on my daughter,
you've got another thing coming, boy!
- Oh, nuts!
He's doing it again!
Make it stop!
Hey!
- Hey!
Take your finger off the fuckin' fire button!
Er...
Well, looks like he might need a couple more lessons, sir.
Shit.
You stupid bastard!
Looks like I'm your air cover, Mr President.
Ain't no way I can teach these douche bags how to fly.
- Dear, oh dear, oh dear. - Mr Churchill!
- The scouts have just returned, sir.
Reports are of Nazis, thousands of 'em, coming from the South.
So, it begins.
We found this in the cave, sir.
And we managed to salvage these...
old flintlock muskets. Exactly one gun per man.
Splendid. Let us prepare for battle.
Ready, aim, fire.
Yaaah!
Excellent.
Straighten up that line!
Yo, Rupee-doopee.
Never thought I'd see Red Injuns this far from home.
And you tell me, Fiskie-whisky...
why did you travel 5,000 miles
to fight a war that the English ought to be fighting for themselves, hmm?
Hey, look who's talking, pal.
Hmm, good point.
This is our last line of defence.
We will hold them from this wall for as long as possible.
Gaston, Tom, Albert - artillery.
- Yes, sir. - Oui, Monsieur Churchill.
- Rutty? - Prime Minister.
You and Daisy are in command of your FANY.
- Splendid. - Rupee?
- Yes, sir! - You remain in command of your men.
- Thank you, sir! - Fiske.
- You're our air force. - You got it, Mr President.
Now, Christopher.
Two days ago I was an old man, ready for retirement.
I'd given up on the world,
but you rescued me from the boredom and restraint of politics
and gave me the chance for one more fight.
Now I'm asking you to help us again.
Head north into uncharted territory,
find whatever is out there,
and bring them back here to aid us in our struggle for victory.
I am asking you this as a soldier.
As a soldier, I accept, Mr Churchill.
Good man.
I cannot underestimate the importance of your success.
The future of our civilisation,
and my pension,
now rests with you.
- You must not fail. - Yes, sir!
Now then...
Mr Hitler knows that they will have to break us on this wall or lose the war.
Let us, therefore, brace ourselves to our duties,
and do as our friend from the United States would
and kick some butt!
Fuckin' A, Mr President. Bravo!
Yeah! Ho-ho! Ha-ha! Ho-ho!
This may be the last time we ever see each other.
Don't say that.
Mr Churchill wouldn't have picked you unless he believed in you.
England believes in you, Chris,
and... I believe in you.
You take care of yourself.
Take this shotgun.
It might be dangerous out there.
I'll see you when I get back.
I love you, Chris.
I love you.
Raus! Schnell!
That's funny. Sounds like...
like a train.
Bloody 'ell.
Shit. Communists.
For the last time, Billy Fiske,
these are not communists.
Yeah? That's what they want you to think.
Er...
Bollocks.
Uh-oh. The thin red line of heroes.
Ooh, I'm so frightened!
Hey, Rupee - here's that 50 bucks I owe ya.
Ah, very decent of you, old friend.
Just thought I'd square up with the house, you know?
Shame you won't get a chance to spend it.
I'm waiting for you, you son of a Nazi whore!
- Father! - Come and fight me!
My god against yours!
Sorry, sir, he must have found his way back to the bottle.
- Good man. - Sausage-eating...
wankers!
Wankers! Wankers! Wankers! Wankers!
Let us take example from the Church.
Double the ale ration!
Two pints per man.
Sir. Double the ale ration!
Two pints per man.
Come on, lads. Drink her right down.
And did those feet
In ancient time
Walk upon England's mountain green?
And was the holy land of God
On England's pleasant pastures seen?
- That's it! Sing! Sing! - And did the countenance divine
Shine forth upon our clouded hills?
And was Jerusalem
Builded here
Among those dark satanic mills?
Yes, those dark satanic mills!
Bring me my bow of burning gold!
Bring me my arrows of desire!
Bring me my spear!
O clouds, unfold!
- Now, Rupee! - Present at 100 yards!
Right, here we go!
I will not cease from mental fight
Nor shall my sword sleep in my hand
Till we have built Jerusalem
In England's green and pleasant land
Now, Rupee! Fire!
Fire!
Take that, Fritz!
Come and get it, you little prick!
Got one!
Fire the catapult!
Allez!
- Ow! - Oh, my foot!
Ahh!
No, wait! No! Nooooo!
Hold hard, men!
Achtung! Raus!
We cannot hold it!
Pouring hot oil!
Nein! Nein!
- 'Ave some o' that. - It's so oily und hot!
You fuckers!
Burn...
in the fires of Beelzebub!
- What is this? Foul play?
Fear not. We shall hold off ze attack until dawn.
Then Heidi and Helga will lead ze attack.
Hello, girls!
Gates reinforced now, Prime Minister.
We are now truly subject to Mother Nature.
Bloody English weather.
- You know, Daisy,
I usually do not approve of men,
but that boy Christopher will make a first-rate husband.
I hope I see him again.
Please! No, wait! I mean you no harm!
I just want to speak to your chief!
- Oh, no, please! No!
No! No!
...ye cannae argue wi' the man.
- No, get off!
Please! Leave me alone!
- No! No!
Noooo!
Who's there?
It is I, the chief of this clan.
- Who are you? - My name is Chris.
Chris, is it?
Are you an assassin, Chris?
No. I'm a soldier from England.
Hmm, a soldier from England, is it?
And what did they tell you in England?
That we are complete savages?
There are some that think that, but I have heard a different tale.
The tale of a great Scottish hero, who defended Scot Land all on his own.
The tale of Braveheart.
Back then, the English king was evil, he threw people out of castle windows.
- I see. - Everybody loved Braveheart.
Even though there were rumours that he were actually an Australian.
Ah, interesting.
But in the end, he almost beat the English.
Do you know this tale?
Aye, laddie. I know this tale.
I know this tale because...
I am Braveheart!
- You what? - And you...
you, Chris, are a Scotsman!
Er, no, I'm not.
- You are. - No, really, I'm from Kent.
Ha! Kent! Just look at those great 'ands.
That's a mark o' a Highlander if ever I saw one.
Braveheart, we need your help.
We need your help and your lethal weapons.
Would that be lethal weapon one, two, three, or four?
Will you join us in the fight for freedom?
Aye. But first there is something we must do.
Now you're home, laddie!
Freedo-o-o-om!
They're up to something.
They're definitely up to something.
Bring me Churchill's head on a plate.
Jawohl, Herr Himmler.
What in the name of?
It's like the whole of hell has awoken.
Shit on a stick.
Artillery - feuer!
Incoming!
- Let's go, girls!
Stand by for full armour attack.
They're approaching the east wall.
Hold the line!
It's a bloody pack of wild Bavarian banshee bitches!
Jawohl! Aaaah!
They've breached the gates.
Deutschland! Deutschland!
Schnell! Schnell!
Raus!
Die, you feather pickers!
Ah! Take this! Take that! Ah!
Das ist das Englischer Schwein!
Watch the ladders!
We're going to lose the wall, Tom.
- Get ready to sound the retreat. - Yes, sir.
Sound the general retreat.
Sound the general retreat!
I retreat for no man!
Come on, Father, fall back!
Retreat, girls! Retreat to the catapult!
Fall back, men! Jaldi, jaldi!
I need someone to jump the propeller!
Give me some cover!
Covering fire!
Get some o' this, baby, yeah!
- Take aim!
Fire!
Aargh!
No!
Oh, they've got Tom!
Murderers!
We're out of ammunition! This is it!
Well, well, it looks like we have won.
Looks like poor Chris did not make it.
I think this is the end.
I am now ready to meet my maker.
We fought bravely.
We fought like Englishmen.
Well, come on, then, damn it.
What are you waiting for?
Oh, Chris, where are you?
Chris!
Ha-haa!
Christopher.
You made it, lad.
- He's done it.
The boy's done it!
He's brought us back an army!
Och aye! Och aye!
So the stories were true
about men in skirts.
Och aye! Och aye!
Och aye! Och aye! Och aye!
Och aye!
I always knew the bastard was one of them.
Och aye! Och aye! Och aye! Och aye! Och aye!
Forward!
Nein!
Butt licker!
Kiss the rock!
Kiss, kiss!
Nein, nein, nein!
- Nein! Nein! - Come 'ere!
- Nein! Nein! - Take that!
Oh, ja!
Oh, the Scots have ruined everything!
Air Force One, comin' through!
All right, ya Russian Nazi assholes,
it's just you and me now.
Hey, boys! I'm back!
There's someone alive in here! He's bleeding!
Help me!
The day is ours, gentlemen.
And ladies.
The day is ours.
Christopher, this is your victory.
Here we go!
Forwards to England!
Mein Fuhrer! It's a counterattack!
Ze Scots have breached the city walls!
We must get you out of London now!
Mein Gott! Get me out of zis godforsaken country.
Drive! Drive!
Into the tunnel, now! Now!
We did it, Daisy.
Yeah! We won the war!
- Aye, all right! - Hooray!
Those big hands are going to make me the happiest woman in England.
Ah! Looks like the hen has found her cock.
You stupid bitch!
Watch your backs, cavalry comin' through.
Fiske! You're alive!
Billy Fiske never dies.
Hey, where's that Frenchy gone?
- Alors!
I do love this car!
Son of a bitch.
Urgent letter for Mr Churchill coming through.
Aha!
Finally, me pension has arrived.
Mm, a nice peaceful retirement, hmm?
If they think they can get rid of me that easily,
they've got another thing coming!
Now England and her empire
shall last a thousand years!
Zen again, maybe not.
I'm gonna eat your face!
Ah, close enough for me.
I'm gonna put my big Scottish willy in ya!
Chris? What have you done?
- You forgot your bicycle!
Let us retake this English castle!
England is ours!
Bugger.
Long live the Scottish Empire!