Angels One Five Page #3

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- You think so?

- Don't you, sir?

Oh, I suppose I should.

I'm a professional fighter.

Perhaps my views are a bit narrow.

Oh, What will you have to drink?

I think there are a few Scotch Ales left.

Thank you, sir.

- How's the neck?

- Oh, fine, sir.

A wee bit stiff,

but that will soon wear off, sir.

As a medico, you should know.

Yes, sir.

Do I join the squadron tomorrow, sir?

Well, we won't talk shop now.

This is my play time.

You'd better come and see me

in my office in the morning.

- I'll be there, sir.

- Skol.

Now pay attention, all of you!

You've been sent here ...

... to guard this aerodrome.

And guard it you will ...

... against all unauthorized persons ...

... saboteurs, and assaults from the enemy.

And while you're here ...

... you will uphold the traditions of the army

before the RAF ...

... being punctilious and paying respects ...

... to their officers.

Now, a word of warning.

Their Sergeant Majors ...

... what they call Warrant Officers ...

... and of which they have

a great multitude ...

... dresses very like the real officer.

We don't want no accidents.

Understand?

You don't salute me,

so you won't salute them.

Parade!

Attention!

For your information ...

... that was a Pilot Officer.

Party! Attention!

Stand at ease!

Come in.

What can I do for you?

I have an appointment

with the Station Commander, sir.

He's busy just now.

Better take a seat.

He asked me

to come and see him.

I daresay he did.

You're not our only customer, you know.

Sit down.

The Old Man's ready

to hear the charge now.

Accused, count off!

Witness escort accused, party ... attention!

Right turn! Quick march!

Left, right, left, right,

left, right, left wheel...

Party, right!

Hello, Baird.

I gather you're joining me

in the hole for a while.

The hole, sir?

It's what the irreverent

call the Operations Room.

- Operations Room? But I'm a pilot.

- So, if you observe closely, am I.

I realise that, sir,

but it's not quite the same thing, is it?

- Why not?

- Well, I mean, you're a Squadron Leader, sir.

Which might suggest that I'm the more

experienced pilot than you, mightn't it?

You don't get the point, sir.

Perhaps not, but I'm not

going to argue the toss.

If you're sent to the hole,

that's where you'll go.

Believe me, it has its uses.

Even for pilots.

Has it ever occurred to you, Wailes ...

... that using a crib in a trade examination

is a very stupid offense?

It doesn't help to win the war.

It doesn't help the air force.

It doesn't even help you

in your work, does it?

No, sir.

Do you know whom you're serving?

Yes, sir. You, sir.

No, you're not, any more than I'm serving ...

the air officer commanding a group.

We're both serving the King.

Pulling on the same rope,

part of the same team.

- Do you understand?

- Yes, sir.

Cribs won't help us.

Supposing I'm flying an aircraft,

it gets into a spin.

Christmas daisies, where's my crib?

And before I can find the right piece ...

There's Saint Peter tap tapping on my fuselage

demanding my soul of me.

Think that one over.

Admonished. March out.

Admonished!

Witnesses escort accused, right turn!

Wake up! Right wheel. Quick march!

Left, right, left right,

left right, left.

Pilot Officer Baird is waiting to see you, sir.

Oh, yes. Send him in.

Come in, Baird.

All right, relax.

How's the neck this morning?

Mm, pretty good, sir.

The M.O. Seems to think it'll take

He's a very cautious man, sir.

That's a quality I approve in doctors.

Sir, is it because of that you're sending me

to the Operations Room?

Oh, Squadron Leader Moon's

told you, has he?

Yes, that's the reason.

But I can fly perfectly well, sir.

If you mean aviate around the sky,

I've no doubt you can.

But that's not what we're here for, Baird.

- Operational flying's a very different matter.

- I'm sure I'd be all right, sir.

- Ever heard of the Messerschmitt twitch?

- No, sir

It's a nervous complaint

contracted by fighter pilots.

It comes from constantly

looking over your shoulder ...

... to see if there's a Jerry on your tail.

You'd find that a bit difficult,

wouldn't you?

I'll risk that, sir.

Understand this, Baird.

I'm not in the least interested

whether you get shot down or not.

All I'm interested in is the efficiency

of the squadrons under my command.

The squadron is a team.

Each member must have complete confidence

in every other in attack or defense.

It takes quite a time to build such a team.

And I'm not going to jeopardize ...

... one of the finest squadrons

in fighter command ...

... just so that you can poop off your guns.

- Is that clear?

- Yes, sir.

Good.

Now I suggest that you get along

and report to the Operations Room.

If you've got any sense and you keep

your eyes and ears open you could learn a lot.

If I had my way,

all pilots would do a spell in there.

Thank you, sir.

Good luck, Baird.

Now, don't try and rush your fences.

You've got a good report up to now.

Just ease back and take things in for a bit, hmm?

Yes, sir.

Squadron Leader Ponsford to see you, sir.

- Ah, come in, Bill.

- Morning, sir.

Morning. Have a cigarette.

Oh, thanks very much.

You want to talk to me about Baird, I suppose.

Well, yes sir, I did, as a matter of fact.

Well, don't worry yourself.

He's not fit for operational flying yet.

In fact, it's just as well, anyway.

I'm posting him non-effective

to Moon in the Operations Room.

Thank heaven for that.

Poor old Peter.

Oh, don't underestimate that boy.

He's keen, and from his record,

an above-average pilot.

Well, he started here

with a big enough black.

Yes, I know how you feel about it.

I was going to tear him

off the strip myself ...

... but it's not the right treatment.

He just doesn't understand

what squadron espirit is about, and ...

... anyway, he's suffering from

a big enough sense of injustice already.

Ah, Hello, Baird.

I was expecting you.

Make yourself at home.

We rather pride ourselves on our hole.

Not quite such a gin palace as some of them,

but it has its exclusive features.

That glass wall map, for instance,

where we stick our own fighters ...

... and any raids we're

especially interested in.

Ops "B" with his lines

to Squadron Dispersal.

Ops "A" in touch with

her counterpart at Group.

Our brown colleagues,

ack-ack and Searchlight Liaison.

And, of course, the beauty chorus.

Every girl hand-picked.

You don't seem to approve

of our domestic activities.

It's not that, sir.

A bit surprised, that's all.

You know, it's a peculiarity

of the female ...

... that she can only relax by being busy.

I suppose it is.

You don't seem very impressed.

Group Controller on the line, sir ...

... about Raid 7-5. Wants to talk to you.

There, see?

That's what comes of nattering to you.

- Clear the deck, Soss.

- Serial 9-6...

- OK, I'll take it on this phone.

- 2 sections, 2270 Squadron.

- Neethley Controller here, sir.

- Patrol Ramsgate 12,000 feet.

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