The Captive Heart Page #6

Another Christmas

come and gone.

Another batch of prisoners

to swell our numbers.

They don't make the housing

problem any easier.

They bring us eagerly awaited

news of the outside world.

A little while ago there was

a rumor

that some of us

were to be repatriated.

I allowed myself to dream

that these letters of ours

could come to life.

I could see with my own eyes

your home, the children,

Yourself.

But the commission

never came.

Were we forgotten?

Or was it just

one more reprisal?

Being they are prisoners,

this practice must come to rest.

Orders.

Finally,

the recent operation...

As a reprisal for such

an unwarranted action,

All British prisoners of war

of cellblock 27

until further notice

remain manacled

from dawn until dusk.

Brigade dismissed.

Carry on.

Cigarette?

Thanks.

It's easy.

Sardine key.

Turn to the right.

Turn to the left.

Bob's your uncle.

All part of the

Red Cross service.

Ha ha!

Our third winter

is approaching

bringing with it a new enemy.

It's not the duration

but the indefiniteness.

But if a man knew the length

of his sentence,

he could plan accordingly.

Afterwards in our memories,

we shall relive

only the sunny days

or pleasant scenes,

a freedom of mind

and the comradeship.

We shall forget the wet days,

the wet weeks.

Those days when it seemed

an effort to do nothing

and our bunks were

the only release.

Deep down in the hearts

of all of us,

there dwells a lonely ache,

a desperate yearning

for those we love

and a fear, fear of becoming

forgotten men.

Write to me

again soon, Celia.

You could never know

how great the comfort is

that your letters

bring to me.

They're more than comforting.

They give me strength

and hope and happiness.

You will never know how much

they mean to me.

Oh, my dear, I am so terribly

moved by the way you write.

Is it too late to recapture

the happiness or our best years together?

I have no place

in your past or your future, Celia.

You must think of your husband

as dead.

This is good-bye.

I understand.

Don't be afraid.

I'll help you back.

I'll give you back

your strength,

the strength you've given to me

writing to me through these dark years.

I'll wait for you.

Fortresses.

They'll soon

be able to see the channel.

They'll be home

in time for tea.

That's exactly 157

pounds you owe me.

Cut you through the pack.

Double or quit.

Not on your life.

I've got me old age

to think of.

Blood sucker.

Oh, well, there goes

my gratuity.

Cheap enough

to pass the time.

Funny how much you learn about time

when you're killing it.

Such as what?

I've got a theory that

everything that counts

Is done by busy people.

When you've got

too little time,

it's extraordinary

what you can do with it.

And when you've got

all the time in the world,

like us, you don't do

a damn thing.

That's it, doc, you're becoming

quite a philosopher in your old age.

Why not? The war hasn't exactly

chosen us to be heroes.

I know exactly what

I'm going to do with my time right now.

I'm going to climb

into my bunk

and do absolutely

nothing till supper.

They're talking about

tiram for the derby this year.

It'll be the fourth

derby I've missed.

4 derbies. That's a hell

of a lot of time.

With nothing up

or down on the books to show for it.

Bloody leeks again

this year, Donny?

I was thinking

of trying some asparagus.

Asparagus?

That takes 7 years a crop.

Aye.

I don't give it more

than another year myself.

Another year?

With it will be 4.

Flo's hair has gone

all white, she says.

Everything's changing.

Do you think we'll

be able to pick it up?

The business

and everything?

Search me. We're not

as young as we were, Donny.

No, Ted, we're not

as young as we were.

Surely they'll invade soon.

Yeah, that's what

you said last year.

And the year before.

What, it's the holiday list?

Yeah, it's there

for all of us. 1949.

I wrote that

for Caroline.

Somehow it expressed

what I felt when I first met her.

It was after a concert.

There weren't any taxis.

We walked back

across the park.

After a bit,

it began to rain.

So I carried her

on my shoulders.

You're still in love

with her, aren't you?

I've tried to shut her

out of my thoughts completely.

But I can't.

I long for her all the time.

I'm a bigger fool

than you are.

Falling in love

with a photograph.

A dream.

And a home

in a strange land.

Achtung!

Oh, carry on.

Good afternoon,

gentlemen.

Oh, please,

do carry on.

Each time I visit

this camp,

I'm intrigued as

to where we met before.

But now I think

I know the answer.

Your name wasn't always

Geoffrey Mitchell.

Your identification

photograph is being sent

To Gestapo headquarters

in Berlin.

They have a large collection

of photographs there.

It will be interesting

to make comparisons.

I suppose it had to come.

They always catch up

with you in the end.

Repatriation, fellas!

Repatriation!

Great news, gentlemen,

great news! Repatriation!

And this time

it's the real McCoy.

The thing that makes me mouth water,

real live girls.

Hundreds of 'em,

all lining up waiting for me.

Bipeds, old boy, furnished with

two of practically everything!

A mixed German and Swiss

medical commission

will examine all those whose

names are down for repatriation.

Apparently it's a rush job,

so anybody who gets his ticket

will leave in a week's time.

So you've got a chance.

Yes.

But we must have positive evidence

to justify repatriation.

Of course.

Ah. Anything else,

Corporal?

Well, sir,

every time I breathe,

I can feel me liver

knocking up against me kidneys.

Come here.

Cough, please.

Cough? Blimey, do you want me

to bring up my appendix?

Yah.

You have passed.

Thank you, sir.

Matthews.

I wonder if you'll

get through.

Hello, Evans.

You'll soon be seeing your youngster.

Yes, indeed.

I'm sorry to

hear about you

And Captain Grayson, sir.

Oh, well, the flat racing

season's over.

Do you know that Swiss fellow

actually had the nerve

to congratulate me

on my fitness.

Ha ha! Well?

- I got my ticket, all right.

- Fine.

You have passed.

Suits me, sir.

Captain Mitchell.

Ah.

You need not strip,

Captain Mitchell.

I regret your case

is deferred

until the next board

in 6 months' time.

Morris.

And once it's discovered

he's not Mitchell,

he's sunk.

They'll have no mercy.

We've got to

do something for him.

Yes, but what?

Excuse me, sir.

Can we put up a scheme to you?

Sure. Sit down.

What's it all about?

We know the spot

Captain Mitchell's in.

We thought we'd fix up a stunt

to get him out of here.

What's the scheme?

Well, sir, there's

a list of bloke for repatriation

In the commandant's office.

We thought if

we could get hold of it,

alter the names...

Stage a break-in, sir.

Hear, hear, hold on.

We aren't professional burglars.

Well, yes, sir,

as a matter of fact,

well, I was.

Were you really?

Well, how awfully interesting.

Commandant's office...

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