A Yank in the R.A.F.

(narrator) In the early days

of the present war,

a neutrality act prohibited

American manufacturers

from delivering planes

to belligerents on foreign soil.

Sympathetic to Great Britain and her allies,

but legal to the last,

their pilots were ordered to fly the ships

as close as possible to the Canadian border.

Democratic ingenuity

and a stout rope did the rest.

(plane approaching overhead)

Where's he going?

That's another Harvard trainer, isn't it?

Yes.

- Hi. Baker's my name. Tim Baker.

- I'm Flight Lieutenant Redmond.

I was told to deliver

this ship here. Here she is.

- You were told to deliver it here?

- This is Trenton?

Yes. Trenton, Canada.

- Canada?

- Yes.

Well, what do you know about that?

I was looking for Trenton, New Jersey.

My compass must have gone haywire.

You got a cigarette?

How could I have ever mistaken

Canada for New Jersey?

- You'd better come along to the CO.

- OK with me.

Mr Baker, have you ever heard

of the Neutrality Act?

- Yes, sir. The newspapers are full of it.

- Then why did you deliberately violate it?

What difference does it make whether you

tow it across or whether I fly it across?

You get the same aeroplane.

Who does anybody think they're fooling?

We won't argue the point, Mr Baker.

Nor will we be a party to any action

likely to embarrass a friendly government.

I'm afraid you will not be permitted

to ferry any more aircraft. Good day.

OK. OK, if you want to keep the war in

low gear, there's nothing I can do about it.

Just a moment, Mr Baker.

If you know of any capable pilots,

you might mention that we're in need of men

to ferry bombers across to England.

- Pays rather well, you know.

- Just what do you call "rather well"?

A thousand dollars a flight and all expenses.

A thou...

Of course, we wouldn't want our aircraft

delivered by way of Berlin,

since they are to be employed

in that vicinity eventually anyhow.

A thousand bucks a flight

will keep me on my course.

Shall I drop a memo

to the flight superintendent?

Drop it by telephone.

I like to take ajob while I'm enthusiastic.

- Not a bad idea, Baker.

- Thank you, sir.

Oh, by the way, England's to the east, isn't it?

(both laugh)

Well, we're off.

We're on our way.

(thunderclap)

If I could fly back to Canada instead of

taking a boat, I could make a trip a week.

You better concentrate on this first time.

There's no beam out here.

That's four trips a month. 52 trips a year.

Taking two weeks out for vacation,

that's 50,000 bucks.

- What was that?

- 50,000 bucks.

Boy, what a war.

I've tried all the frequency bands.

I can't even get a whisper out of this set.

Why don't you try BBC?

When I was flying the mails in America,

I used to always ride in on Kate Smith.

Boy, there's a beam for you.

This was London in the early days of the war,

a city of homes and churches

and shops and pubs,

of roast beef and old school ties,

and Big Ben and the fog.

The very heart and core of England.

Extra special, sir. Standard, Sporting Times.

Paper. Morning leader, Daily Mail.

Paper? Thank you, sir.

Paper, sir?

- Wake up, sir. Wake up, sir, we're at the hotel.

- Go away, go away.

You really got to get out, sir.

It's against orders to loiter here.

(newspaper seller) Paper!

- Oh, I'm dead.

- Paper!

- Morning leader, Daily Mail.

- Any more baggage, sir?

Paper, sir?

I'm gonna sleep till that boat pulls out.

Paper, sir?

Daily Mail morning leader.

Paper, sir? Paper?

- What's up?

- Uh...

On second thought,

I can sleep on the boat home.

- Yes, but...

- I think I've found the beam again.

Extra special, sir. Standard, Sporting Times.

Paper! Daily Mail morning leader.

All about Hitler. Paper! Read about it.

Meow.

Meow.

I beg your pardon, but have you seen

anything of a little grey-white cat?

Cat? Why, no.

She's a gorgeous creature. Been in the

family for years. You know, long, silky fur...

- Hello, darling!

- Hello, dear.

- Friend of yours?

- No, just a man who's lost his cat.

Poor fellow, he must be terribly cut up.

(alarm sounds)

Quickly, everybody inside. Downstairs.

In the underground.

Careful, don't tip that stretcher.

- What's happened?

- Don't get excited. It's air-raid practice.

Lie down. Be quiet, young man.

You know you're in a very serious condition.

(alarm sounds)

Hey!

Miss Brown? Hurry, girls. Miss Brown,

you drivers are responsible for the blankets.

When inspection closes,

return them to the ambulances.

Yes, Lady Fitzhugh.

Yes, very good, very good indeed.

Thank you both very much. Thank you.

Oh, yes, that's very good. Yes, goodbye.

This bandage is far too tight

and needs a splint.

Loosen it, and be sure you keep

your patient well covered.

Yes, very good indeed.

Yes, thank you, goodbye.

Miss Cross! I'm completely mystified.

This man's bandage?

And the nature of his injury? Really!

Thank you, gentlemen.

(Cockney accent)

I say, miss. Can't you help me?

(gasps)

- Tim!

- Hello, honey.

- You worm.

- How was that for a fractured jaw?

I didn't expect to see you here.

Or anywhere, if I could help it.

That kiss says differently. Besides,

nobody could hold a grudge for a year.

- I can.

- I'm the one who ought to be sore.

I come home to Dallas, find you gone,

and as for that nasty note...

I'd have rigged up a shotgun

pointing at the door, if I'd had any string.

How can you say that? Could I help it if I ran

into a snowstorm and had to make a detour?

I know all about that "detour".

Her name was Irene.

So that's what you thought. I knew I could

clear it up if I could see you and explain.

That's the best thing you do. Explain.

Don't bother. I'm not interested.

As far as you and I are concerned, it's over.

You understand? Finished, done. Now scat.

That's a fine way to treat a guy who just flew

all the way across the Atlantic to see you.

You flew the Atlantic?

I heard you were in England.

Nothing could keep me away.

- I don't believe you.

- But it's true, honey, so help me.

I've changed. You'll be surprised.

- You'll never surprise me again.

- Hey, wait a minute.

I'm not gonna take that for an answer

after flying 3,000 miles to be with you.

Oh, stop it. I've got work to do.

Oh, my, you make an awful cute soldier.

Great idea, enlisting the chorus.

Funny nobody thought of it before.

I'm not in the chorus. And it's not funny,

my trying to help out. At night, I dance at...

- Where?

- Never mind where. And keep away from me.

There you go again.

Still talking about the old Baker.

The new Baker's a pretty steady model. What

harm could there be in giving me a tryout?

I tell you what I'll do.

I'll stay in London. They need fliers.

They need fliers in the RAF.

But that's hardly in your line.

If I remember correctly, you black out

at less than a thousand a month.

Why don't you give me credit? I have ideals.

I have as many ideals as the next fellow.

You've got the wrong word. You're talking

about ideas, and yours isn't going to work.

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