Morning Departure Page #7

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Everyone. You understand?

Aye, aye, sir.

Well...

Well. Cheerio, Chief.

Give my love to the Admiral.

I'll do that.

Well...

- Au revoir, sir, as the French say.

- Au revoir, Chief.

Aye.

Start breathing on your sets.

Good luck, boys.

(METAL CLANGING SOFTLY)

Hear that?

They're in the conning tower now.

Funny how things always work out right

in the end, isn't it?

And some people say

there ain't no justice.

(WATER STREAMING)

They'll be going out by now.

In half a minute or so,

they'll be breathing God's fresh air.

Just think of that, Snipe.

Thanks, Higgy.

I don't want to start using oxygen

till tomorrow.

Now there are only four of us,

this air should last us some time.

What's the matter?

- What?

- Feeling groggy?

Oh, yes, I am, as a matter of fact.

I had malaria a couple of years ago.

It creeps up on you, now and then.

You'd better go into the wardroom

and take it easy for a bit.

Yes.

Yes, sir. I'll go and lie down.

Give me a hand, sir.

ARMSTRONG:
All right. In the wardroom.

He caught him with his bad arm, sir.

He couldn't have hurt it at all.

Stop jabbering. Shift the table,

get some brandy, Higgins.

- HIGGINS:
Aye, aye, sir.

- Hurry up.

- Thanks, Snipe. Get a blanket, will you?

- Yes, sir.

Brandy, sir.

ARMSTRONG:
Come on, boy.

Have a sip of this.

(COUGHING)

Feeling better?

Thanks.

I'm sorry to do that.

It hit me suddenly.

The deck would have hit you suddenly,

if Snipe hadn't caught you.

Thank you, Snipe.

- How's the wrist, Snipe?

- It's all right, sir.

- Higgins.

- Sir?

Here you've got the bottle out,

I think we'll all have a glass.

- What? Me and Snipe, too, sir?

- Yes, unless you prefer evaporated milk.

Well, not milk, sir. But, if I really am going

to have a drink in the wardroom, sir,

I'd like a drop of port, sir.

- With your permission, of course, sir.

- Permission granted, help yourself.

- I'll deal with the brandy.

- Thank you, sir.

Cor, look at me.

Helping meself to a glass

of port in one of His Majesty's Men o' War.

Able Seaman Higgins. Just like an admiral.

- Blimey.

- Better make the most of this one, chaps.

We may be here some time.

After this, the pub's closed.

Well.

- Bottoms up.

- Good luck, sir.

"There is therefore no alternative

but that I and the three others

"should remain in the submarine

"until salvage is either achieved

or abandoned."

- We must get them up, Mac. We must.

- Aye, sir.

JENNER:
Stop them.

We're anchoring presently.

They'll get the divers down at once.

Is the CO2 unit intact?

- Yes, sir.

- JENNER:
Full astern both engines.

We'll run an air pipe down

to them, anyway.

The lifting craft are being towed out now.

They should be in position

in about four hours.

It will take another twelve to get the wires

under them and start lifting, won't it, sir?

Yes.

We're at 90 feet,

and with these tides,

we ought to be able to raise them about

15 feet each day.

It'll take the best part of the week, Mac.

JENNER:
Stop engines.

ENGINEER:
Stop engines, sir.

- That's a long time, sir.

- What about the others?

- Do you think they'll be able to stand it?

- Well, sir...

Yes?

The captain gave me a special message

about that, sir.

He asked me to tell you

that everyone is quite okay.

- Morale is good.

- That's fine.

Stand by starboard, anchor.

Well, here we are, Mac.

Good-bye for now and don't worry.

We'll get them up.

I hope so, sir.

- Your boat's alongside, sir.

- All right.

Stand by, forrard.

All right. Switch on the oxygen.

Okay, she's on now, sir.

That should freshen up

the atmosphere a bit.

What on earth is that muck?

Luncheon for you

and the First Lieutenant, sir.

- What are you having?

- The same, sir.

I thought it best to finish off

each tin as we come to it,

seeing as we ain't got no fridge.

All right, well, take those along

and then come back and bring yours

and Snipe's to the wardroom as well.

What, you mean for us to eat

our dinners in there, sir?

I don't know what else

you propose to do with them,

though I could make several suggestions.

Drinking in the wardroom,

eating in the wardroom.

Blimey.

It's almost worthwhile getting sunk!

- And stop saying "blimey."

- Aye, aye, sir.

We'll all live in the wardroom

from now on.

There are four bunks in there,

and I think we ought to make ourselves

as comfortable as possible.

Thank you very much, sir.

What on earth's the matter

with you, Higgins?

Nothing, sir.

Snipe was about to commit a social error.

I do it myself every day of the week,

because, up to now,

Higgins has always forgotten

to provide us with an extra knife

for the butter.

Thank you for remembering

today, Higgins.

That's all right, sir.

We always has them up forrard.

Blimey, the coxswain's a real stickler

for that sort of thing.

You recall that there pigeon

yesterday, sir?

Do you know who it belonged to, sir?

Old Nobby Clarke.

He was going to let it off himself and then

when he had to go home

he asked me to do it for him.

That's just the sort of damned silly idea

Clarke would have.

I'm glad he's had a son.

Cor, I just thought of something.

If old Nobby hadn't have been sent home,

he'd have come out with us.

And then he might never have...

Blimey, what a thought.

Higgins, that's the fifth time you've said

"blimey" since we started eating.

If you can't speak without saying it,

for God's sake, keep quiet.

I'm very sorry, sir.

Thank you, sir.

All right, go on, say what you're thinking.

Nothing to say, except

there doesn't seem to be much point

in declaring open house in the wardroom

if you're going to swear at the chaps

every time they speak.

I know. I'm sorry.

I just feel thoroughly gritty.

Reaction, I suppose.

I'll apologize to old Higgins.

Peter, do you want to get out of this jam?

Of course I do. Don't you?

I don't know.

- Oh, don't be damned silly.

- Full house in three.

One must have a reason for existence,

otherwise there's no point.

Some kind of basis or plan for the future.

Like you, for instance.

You mean because I'm married to Helen

and we've got a child?

That and your career.

One day, when I'm an old man

propping up some bar,

I'll remember I played poker dice

with Admiral Sir Peter Armstrong

at a depth of 90 feet.

No one will believe me,

but it will be good for my morale.

Four tens.

I'm not going to be an Admiral.

- I shan't even get a brass hat.

- Of course, you will.

Sometimes I wonder which you love more,

Helen or the sea?

Well, to tell you the honest truth,

I wasn't quite sure, myself.

But I'm sure now.

I'm getting out of the service.

- Helen?

- Mmm-hmm. Oh, yes, she's right, of course.

She wants a home,

somewhere permanent.

Where she can grow roots, family roots.

A house in the country, with a garden

and the flowers staying young

while you grow old.

And a rich father-in-law to pay for it all.

Why not?

I've had 12 years at sea.

I enjoyed it.

Perhaps he'll give you

a little model yacht to play with as well.

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