Battle of Britain Page #2

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Red-3 on 3. Understood.

Attack, attack, attack,

attack, attack, attack...

Hello, Rabbit Leader.

I thought you might

come in from the sun.

Don't think. Don't just glance.

Look! Search for the bastards!

And never fly in a straight

line, or you're a dead duck.

- Sir.

- Now, let's try it again.

Or, in other words,

beware of the Hun in the sun...

who, for reasons best

known to himself...

has confined his recent attacks

to our channel convoys.

However,

this won't last forever.

But it has given us a chance

to pull ourselves together...

and to train people like you.

As fighter controllers, you'll

be joining an organization...

which, thank the good Lord...

was not rushed up

hastily yesterday.

It'll be a pain in the neck

to the enemy when he comes.

It's the joker up our sleeves.

Now, the R.A.F. Chain

shows us where they are.

The information

is passed to group...

group scrambles

the necessary squadrons...

and you, at sector level...

guide our chaps

to the interception.

It's been tried and tested.

It works.

So don't blame the system

if you're no good.

Now, clearly, 11 Group here...

will bear the brunt

of the battle...

as those of you

who are posted there...

will find out

to your discomfort.

12 Group is our second line

of defense...

and covers the industrial

midlands and the north.

13 Group, Scotland

and the northeast...

and 10 Group,

the west of England.

More than half

the fighter-command squadrons...

are stationed here

at 11 Group...

near the coast where we

expect the invasion...

and also able

to protect London...

which is as far as the bombers

can get with fighter escort.

But I think

we can leave strategy...

to those with egg

on their hats.

Attention!

Please, gentlemen, the Inspector

General has just arrived.

Here.

Thank you, Captain.

Ah, my dear Foehn.

You are well?

- Yes, thank you, General.

- And Falke?

Yes, thank you, General.

May I introduce

my brother Hans, sir?

Another fighter ace perhaps?

When I get the chance

to fight, General.

General.

We have borrowed this.

- Dover?

- Dover.

Those masts are their

radio direction finders?

Yes. Their secret weapon.

Which we captured at Dunkirk.

Our Stukas can deal with them.

Excuse me, General, but why?

If they know we're coming,

so much the better.

We don't have to look for them.

The pilots are in excellent

spirits, General.

I have eyes in my head,

Osterkamp.

I merely wanted to say,

General...

we shouldn't wait too long.

It may happen sooner

than you think.

Please, gentlemen.

Come, Falke.

Thank you, General.

This delay is an incredible

piece of luck.

I mean, they roll up France

and then stop.

They could've come right on.

You know,

our latest intelligence...

is that Herr Hitler

is sightseeing in France.

'Tis rather pleasant weather.

Oh, no, I mean it.

He's on holiday.

I'm not complaining, Minister.

No, no, no,

seriously, Dowding...

the morale factor is vital.

I saw Beaverbrook on Monday.

Now, he's going

to be able to deliver...

as many as

a hundred fighters a week.

Well, after seeing you...

I want to be able to go

back to the cabinet...

and tell them you're

as confident as I am.

Damn it, man,

we've got 650 planes.

And they have 2,500 aircraft,

haven't they?

They won't all come over

at once, and we have radar.

Churchill puts great faith

in radar.

It's vital, but it won't

shoot down aircraft.

I must say, you don't exactly

exude a spirit of optimism.

God willing,

we will hold out, Minister.

I see. So I tell

the cabinet...

that you're trusting in radar

and praying to God... right?

More accurate

the other way around.

I'm trusting in God

and praying for radar.

But the essential arithmetic

is that our young men...

will have to shoot down

their young men...

at the rate of four to one

if we're to keep pace at all.

It's the oil pressure, sir,

but the gauge is being checked.

- All right, Charlie. Carry on.

- Thank you, sir.

Never give up,

do you, Charlie?

Instrument check, sir.

I hope your new C.O.

Believes you.

He's going to be

one of your headaches now.

They know the orders...

don't tangle unnecessarily.

So it's "May I do

an engine check, sir?

"Or an undercarriage

check or a radio?"

Any excuse

to get at the Jerries.

At least it shows they're keen.

Yeah, they're a good bunch.

God knows what I'll find

in Scotland.

A lot of kids with down

on their cheeks.

Yeah, training them

to be fighter pilots...

is a damn sight more dodgy

than fighting Germans.

Well, you've got to earn

that new stripe somehow.

At least I got

three days in town.

Give my regards to your wife.

Thanks.

May I have a word, sir?

Send us back a haggis.

If you want permission

for a test flight...

the answer is no.

Large scotch, please.

You with that lot

down the road, sir?

No.

One and six, please.

- Thank you.

- Thank you.

Have you applied

for that post in Scotland?

- Darling, I can't.

- You can't.

You know I can't.

- You mean you don't want to.

- Can't. I've got a job.

What have we got?

What the hell is this?

Is it a marriage or a flaming

air force committee?

For God's sake, Colin,

don't start that all over again.

I knew this would happen.

I never wanted you

to join up... never.

Colin, please, try to behave

as if I were a human being.

You look more like a

parade-ground suffragette to me.

I'm just not cut out to wave

a wet hankie on sooty stations.

For God's sake,

who's asking you to?

We'll be

in Scotland together.

I never could stand

marching women.

You couldn't care less,

could you?

I cared enough

to come here fifty miles.

I didn't measure it.

I did.

I even booked a room.

Three days.

It would be marvelous.

Are you going to apply

for that posting or not?

Left, right, left.

Right, left, right, left, right.

Squad, halt!

Right turn!

Order arms!

Now, wait for it.

Squad...

dismissed!

Come on, Albert,

you're not dead yet.

- It's his turn.

- You'll be lucky.

Twelve pints, please, Fred.

One for the sarge.

Let him get his own.

No, sir, it's not Charlie.

It's some Hurricane

out of juice very likely.

Right. Call me directly

you hear anything.

Well, somebody

must have spotted him.

He can't just disappear.

All right, I'll hang on.

Sir, it's

Air Vice Marshal Park.

That's all we need now.

Jamie, hang onto this.

Good afternoon, sir.

Tell your men to relax.

How are they making out,

Canfield?

Half the squadron

are new pilots, sir.

That's why you were sent here,

to lick them into shape.

They get less warning here

than any other station...

so they must learn

to get up from standby...

in two minutes flat if they're

to intercept the enemy.

Hello. Dispersal.

Right.

Stand down, "A" flight.

Yours?

Yes, sir.

The chaps spoil her.

All right, Canfield, what's up?

You have a pilot missing.

Yes, sir.

Over the channel.

Is he much overdue?

Over two hours, sir.

I thought I'd made it clear

we're too near the enemy...

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