Mrs. Miniver Page #4

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Will everyone please be seated.

It has just been announced over the air

by the prime minister...

...that our country is at war.

In the circumstances...

...l don't think you'll wish me to continue...

...as you will probably, most of you,

have some other duty to perform.

I will say simply this:

That the prayer for peace

still lives in our hearts...

...coupled now with the prayer

for our beloved country.

We in this village...

...have not failed in the past.

Our forefathers, for 1 000 years, have

fought for the freedom that we now enjoy.

And that we must now defend again.

With God's help...

...and their example...

...we cannot...

...and shall not fail.

Are we going to be bombed, Daddy?

- Toby, don't shout, darling.

Are we going to be bombed?

- Come on.

Carol.

- I'll be right along, Granny.

Beg your pardon. Carol.

- Hello.

You came back early.

Oh, I'm so glad. How are you fixed,

in case of anything?

Quite all right, I think.

I must go, Vin. Goodbye.

Yes?

Ma'am, I'm so glad you've come.

Gladys is carrying on-- Pardon me.

Carrying on something awful.

I've had her on me hands all morning.

What's the matter?

- It's on account of Horace.

Called up and asked to join

his regiment tonight.

Yes, ma'am,

and Gladys in floods of tears.

And that stove...

...the man only come Friday to look at it,

and what he done, I don't know.

But she's not fit to work.

She's not, really.

Well, never mind, Ada.

I daresay we'll manage somehow.

Napoleon.

Toby, take him away.

I suppose they broadcast the news.

- Yes, ma'am, what a dreadful thing.

And that laundry.

Lost another of me best aprons.

But we've always got the navy.

- That's right, Ada.

Oh, come on, now.

Cheer up, Gladys.

Horace won't be anywhere

near the front line.

Oh, yes, he will.

He's one to push himself forward.

He says, 'You let me get me hands

on Hitler. I'll give him sweatsticker.'

Give him what?

Sweatsticker. You know, sir,

the sign they have on their flags.

Well, that's the proper spirit, Gladys.

He's got too much spirit.

He gives way to it.

I beg pardon, but would you tell Gladys

Horace has got to catch his train...

...and could he come in a minute

and say goodbye?

Oh, of course he can.

- Come in, Horace.

Thank you, sir.

Morning, everybody.

Good morning, Horace.

Will you have a sherry?

- Don't mind if I do.

And jolly good luck to you, Horace.

- Yes, indeed.

Jolly good luck, Horace.

- Thanks, Master Toby.

To your very good health.

My best respects, ma'am.

The children are going to miss you

terribly. And poor Gladys.

Oh, she'll be all right,

won't you, Glad?

Here, here.

That's not the way to behave.

How do you expect me to behave

when you go off and get killed?

Well, cheer up. I ain't killed yet.

Here, have a drop of this.

You don't mind, sir?

- Oh, certainly not.

There. That's better.

Have one for yourself now.

You'll want Gladys to see you

to the station, won't you?

Go get your hat.

Very nice drop of stuff, this.

Last I shall get for a bit, I expect.

Make a lot of difference

to a lot of people, this war will.

Yes, a lot of difference.

We may all meet on the front line yet.

Not me, Horace.

The RAF for me.

Oh, boy.

I've always been keen on flying.

- That's all right too.

Well, I got to get to me train.

I'll say goodbye, ma'am.

Yes, of course, Horace.

Goodbye, and the best of luck.

Goodbye, Horace.

Let us know how it's going.

- I will. You'll excuse the spelling.

I'm better with a bayonet than with a pencil.

You can write it in blood.

Nice child you have.

Keep your chin up.

- Thank you.

Hello. Well, she's done you proud, Horace.

Not half, she ain't.

Full dress inspection kit.

And very nice too, Gladys.

- Thank you, ma'am.

Say goodbye to Napoleon.

- Goodbye, all. And cat.

And many thanks, I'm sure.

- Goodbye, Horace.

Bye, Horace.

Mind if I get on with the blackout?

All right, dear.

Thought I'd run up to

the Beldon place later on.

Two women alone, you know,

might be a good idea to look things over.

Yes, I think you should, dear.

One ought to be neighborly.

- Oh, yes, indeed one should.

May I go with him, Mother?

- If he'll have you.

No.

Isn't he very young,

even for the air force?

Yes, he's young.

May I see Miss Carol?

- Is she expecting you, sir?

No, but I think she would see me.

Vin.

- Hello, Carol.

It's all right, Chandler.

It's nice of you to come.

Well, I wanted to find out

if everything's all right.

Do come in.

Everything's fine.

After a terrific row with Mr. Foley...

...my grandmother's agreed

to obey the blackout regulations.

I was worried about you.

- That's sweet of you, Vin.

It was sweet to write me letters

while I was in Scotland.

So you did get them.

- Yes, of course.

I wondered if you did

when you didn't answer.

Vin, I didn't know how to answer.

You're such a crazy boy...

...and I didn't think the craze would last.

Craze?

- Well, it is rather sudden, isn't it?

This is only the third time we've met.

Does that matter?

No, but I'd like to be sure.

I don't really know you very well, do I?

We could do something about that.

We could see a lot of each other.

Every day while I'm around.

Would that be all right?

- Why, yes.

Why not?

Gosh, I'm glad to see you again.

- I'm glad too, Vin.

I say, is it an awful nerve?

Well, I mean, we have

a sort of agreement, haven't we?

Would it be going too far?

- It's all right, Vin.

I heard voices.

May I ask whom you're entertaining?

This is Vincent Miniver.

My grandmother.

How do you do, Lady Beldon?

- Miniver?

Miniver. I know that name.

A rose with that name

has been entered in the show.

The Miniver rose.

That's something new.

The Marshall Neil,

the flower called Drushke...

...the Duchess of Argyle

and now the Mrs. Miniver.

Please, Granny.

A tramp rose grown in a station yard.

It's nothing to do with Vin.

Then what's he doing here,

if one may ask?

I came to offer my services.

- I see.

You're in league with wretched Foley.

Oh, no, Lady Beldon.

- Oh, Granny.

Never heard such rot.

We can take care of ourselves.

We have for the last 800 years.

But--

- We don't take orders, we give them.

Worst thing about this war is the chance

it gives little persons to become important.

Air raids, indeed.

Those wretched Germans.

They wouldn't dare--...

What should we do?

- Do? Nothing.

It's Foley giving a false alarm.

- You can't take that attitude.

I beg your pardon, young man.

You must take precautions.

Ring for the butler and gather

the servants in the cellar.

Then go down there yourself.

I must call my parents. The telephone?

- In the hall.

Upon my word.

Sirens, milady.

- I'm not deaf.

Get all the servants quickly to the cellar.

- You too, Granny. He said so.

The cellar.

Hello? That you, Dad?

All right with you?

Yes, everything under control.

Right. I'll expect you when I see you, then.

Who is it?

- Air raid warden.

Hello, Foley. What's up?

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