If.... Page #5

At the double.

Get a move on. Don't hang around.

- Hurry up.

- Who left his rifle here?

All right. Hurry up. Hurry up. Hurry up.

"D" Section over here.

This is an order.

Put your rifles down

and get over to the tea queue.

Go on, you. Go on. Move.

- All right, boy?

- You keep going.

That's the lad.

Take coverl

Take coverl

Who's there?

Who's there?

Show yourself, whoever you are!

Come out of there!

Empty those rifles at once.

Hand over those rifles instantly!

Come on. Hand them over.

For the love of God, don't shoot!

No. No. No.

I take this seriously.

Very seriously indeed.

Reverend Woods

might have been quite badly hurt.

Do you realize that?

Now I want you to apologize to him.

Is that clear?

Now, you mustn't think

that I don't understand.

It's a natural characteristic of adolescence

to want to proclaim individuality.

There's nothing unhealthy about that.

It's a quite blameless form

of existentialism.

This, for instance, is what lies

at the heart of the great hair problem.

I think you boys know that I keep

an open mind on most things.

And of one thing I am certain:

Short hair is no indication of merit.

So often I've noticed that...

it's the hair rebels who step into the breach

when there's a crisis...

whether it be a fire in the house...

or to sacrifice a week's holiday...

in order to give a party of slum children

seven days in the country.

But, of course, there are limits.

Scruffiness of any kind is deplorable.

I think you'd go that far with me.

Now, the fees here are at present...

Which works out

at about 15 guineas a week.

This is no mean sum.

It is the salary, for instance, of the average

trainee supermarket manager.

But on the other hand,

it's no more than the cost...

of keeping

a juvenile delinquent in Borstal.

However, this is merely to look at the matter

in terms of hard cash...

which is not the only consideration.

There is above all the question of service.

Those who are given most

also have most to give.

Now you boys are intelligent.

You're too intelligent to be rebels.

That's too easy.

And it would be easy to punish you

in the normal way.

But I'm going to give you a privilege.

Work. Real work.

And I want you to think of this

not as a punishment...

but as an opportunity to give...

to serve.

Guard ofhonor, 'shunl

Guard, shoulder... armsl

Guard, present... armsl

Guard, shoulder... arms!

Guard, order armsl

- How do you do, sir? Nice to have you at College.

- Yes. So nice.

- You know the bishop.

- Bishop!

- General. How very nice to see you.

- Nice to see you after all this time.

- It's a long time.

- Twenty-seven years?

- Twenty-seven years it's been?

- I've got to leave now.

Yes. Right.

Each manly voice upraise

Clasp each the hand in brotherhood

And raise the roof with praise

And when these days of school are past

Though we'll be near or far

We'll cherish still her memory

Gainst fire and flood and foe

We'll serve her still

through good and ill

As through the world we'll go

And when these days of school are past

Though we'll be near or far

We'll stand again for College

Who made us what we are

Your Royal Highness...

my lord bishop...

General Denson...

my lords, ladies and gentlemen...

today is a day for the future...

and also a day for the past.

Any institution which has

half a thousand years -

one-quarter of the Christian era

stretching behind it-

is bound to have a sense of the past.

But in point of fact,

there can be few places...

where tradition is examined

with such a critical eye as this college.

A constant self-appraisal is going on.

And indeed,

changes are happening so fast...

that even as I speak,

these words are out of date.

But first I want to introduce

General Denson...

who, of course,

needs no introduction...

either as a national hero

or as an old boy.

General Denson.

Thank you, Headmaster.

Your Royal Highness,

my lord bishop...

my lords, ladies and gentlemen.

Men of College, now,

you chaps are probably thinking...

there's nothing much

an old soldier like me can teach you.

Well, you may be right.

All the same, I'm going to

have a shot at it.

First thing, you're lucky.

Yes. A lot of men would give their eyeteeth

to be sitting where you're sitting now.

You are privileged.

Now, for heaven's sake, don't get me wrong.

There is nothing the matter

with privilege-

as long as we're ready to pay for it.

It's a very sad thing,

but today it is fashionable...

to belittle tradition.

The old orders that made

our nation a-a living force...

are for the most part scorned...

by modern psychiatrists, priests,

pundits of all sorts.

But what have they got

to put in their place, hmm?

Oh, politicians talk a lot about freedom.

Well, freedom is the heritage of

every Englishman...

who speaks with the tongue

that Shakespeare spoke.

But, you know, we won't stay free

unless we're ready to fight.

And you won't be any good as fighters...

unless you know something

about discipline-

the habit of obedience-

how to give orders...

and how to take them.

Never mind the sneers of the cynics.

Let us just be true to honor,

duty, national pride.

We still need loyalty.

We still need tradition.

If we look around us at the world today,

what do we see?

We see bloodshed, confusion, decay.

I know the world has changed

a great deal in the past 50 years -

But England-

our England doesn't change so easily.

And back here in College today I feel -

and it makes me jolly proud -

that there is still a tradition here

which has not changed...

and by God, it isn't going to changel

It's up to all of you chaps

to give the world a lead.

It is Britain's tradition

that you have learnt here.

Self-reliance, service, self-sacrifice.

A tradition of College.

And it's up to all of us to reassure

the world by our unquestioning obedience...

that we still hope -

My God, we're on fire!

Now don't panic. Don't panic.

Women first.

Break open the windows.

Don't shout.

Don't panic. Don't panic.

Women and children-

Oh, my God.

Come on. Stand up. Stand up.

Stand up for College.

Each manly voice upraise.

- Mum, where are you?

- Outl God, let us outl

Come on. Come on.

Ammunition, quick!

Break open the armory.

Every man a rifle.

Now keep low! Keep low!

Rabbit crawl!

Infiltrate their flank. Get a Bren gun

on their flank. Come on. Jump to it.

Bastards! Bastards!

Bastards!

Stop! Stop!

Stop firing!

Cease fire.

Cease firing.

Boys! Boys!

I understand you!

Listen to reason and trust me!

Trust me!

Rate this script:4.0 / 3 votes