The Village (2013) s01e01 Episode Script
Episode 1
Can you introduce yourself? My name is Bert Middleton.
I'm the second oldest man in Britain.
This is the last thing I'll do, so you'd better listen carefully and do it properly.
Make it honest.
Where are we? The summer of 1914? The summer the bus came.
Put up the photograph.
I don't know why, but it was a solemn occasion, and that made it even more exciting.
It was the first ever bus to come to our village.
The bus came in.
The bus stopped.
The bus drove off.
And there she was.
No-one was expecting anyone to actually get off the bus.
There she was.
Was it love at first sight? What kind of question is that? I was 12 years old.
Of course it was love at first sight.
100 years later, when I say her name, I feel exactly the same way about her.
Martha Lane.
Martha Lane.
Joe had gone to work at the Big House.
I didn't know it then, but it was the start of him trying to get away.
I was too young, too filled up with being alive to see what he was after.
And nobody had left the village in 100 years.
My father went abroad twice in his life.
By "abroad," I mean out of the parish, and he didn't like it.
All of life was in our village.
Joe was my big brother.
It wasn't that I could tell him about the lady from the bus, but I wanted to be with him, like I always did when the sky fell in.
Or my heart heaved.
Anyway, here's what happened.
You're going to swim today.
I can't.
No, you will.
Here, did I tell you about the drowning? No.
I shouldn't.
Please! No! Please! She was sucked under and never seen again.
Here? D'you know what they say? No.
What? What? She's looking for a fellow to drown and be with her for ever.
Joe? Joe! Joe! Joe! Joe! Help! She's under us, mate.
I can feel her, she's underneath us.
Quick, quick.
Swim for your life.
Swim.
Swim, fella, swim.
Come on! Come on.
Swim! That's it, Bert, you're doing it.
You're swimming.
Swim to me.
Come on.
Oh, look! Yeah! It was her! I saw her.
We should get home.
Do we have to? It's time to go, Bert.
I'll look after you.
All right? Hello.
Why do you say hello to me? Why wouldn't I? What do you want? Who are you? I'm 19 years old.
You'll stand.
Are you going to ask me, Mother? Did you get round? Three sides on me own.
And the sheathing? I want you in the field at 3.
00 tomorrow.
Do you understand? Why are you shivering? Why's he shivering? I was teaching him how to swim.
Sit down.
Look at these hands.
Look at the work in them.
Swimming? Swimming?! Don't look at him.
I said, don't look at him! Joe.
No.
Joe.
Please! Joe.
Joe.
Joe! Joe! Joe! Joe! I don't want to be in here! Joe! Where is he? I'll wait for him.
Come to bed.
Come to bed, my man.
I want you to have your life.
You must do everything you can to find it.
You wouldn't leave us, Joe.
They're my sons.
Why aren't they with me? Why? Because my left hand is not the right hand, sir.
Mmm-hmm.
Get your hand up.
Why? Because my left hand is not the right hand, sir.
Mmm-hmm.
Get it up.
Oh.
Playing games, are we? No, no, no, no.
I'm busy here, Mr Eyre, if you don't mind.
Get your hand up.
Up.
Look at me.
Why? Why?! Another? Mother says that we'll have water on tap next year.
And then where will you be? And then where will he be? It'll get cold, Miss Caroline.
So what are you waiting for? Poor Joe.
Can you draw, Bert? Now you.
Do you see that up there? Copy the shapes.
That's all there is to it.
You're tired.
I didn't sleep much.
What time is it now? It's 3.
00.
I promised my father I'd be in the field at 3.
00.
Well, I've kept you.
You'd have been finished by now if it wasn't for me.
It's too neat.
Rake and sheath.
All in eights.
And don't think I won't check.
For this harvest, you have my thanks.
Pay me now.
Or go and come back when you can pay me.
Some more drinks, Peter.
You thieving bastard! Why did you do that, Father? He's my neighbour.
How long were you teaching for? A year.
Greek and Latin, to a small boy in a big house.
And why did you leave? My father wrote to me every Sunday telling me about the new village he'd come to.
It made me want to be here.
And what do you think? There's work to do.
Our very own missionary.
So, you'll take them? What will people think? John and Charles Wesley have come in by the back door.
I came in the front, Mr Eyre.
God doesn't need a back door.
Neither, it seems, do Yorkshirewomen.
What have you done to my son? Should we starve so he could learn to write? Does writing ever feed anyone? I know how hard things are for you.
No, you don't.
You have got no idea! But I also know that a boy needs an education.
They won't dry.
Every bloody sheath you've laid east-west.
How many times have I told you? They only dry if they're north-south.
Come on! Come on! Tripe and onions in milk and a little liver.
Joe's wages.
I'm going to bed.
Pride is a sin, John.
Then I'm going to hell, because it's all I've got.
Can I have more of that, Mother? Of course.
Thanks.
Have you eaten, Mother? Yes.
Must a man pay all his life for one mistake? Is that God's way? I forgive you.
I think it is in everything you do and say that you have not.
No, that is you, John.
It is you not allowing my forgiveness in.
Must it always be my fault? Hurry up! Come on! Come on.
Hurry up! Your father got his harvest in? You ready? I am.
Right, in your own time, Mr Evans.
Everyone, now I would like you all to run down the hill, touch the church gate, turn around and run back up to school as quick as you can.
Quick, go, go, all of you.
Mr Eyre? It's a school photograph, Mr Eyre.
On you go.
Tommy, we are going to run on the spot, come on.
Quick, quick, quick, quick.
Children! Come back! This is not a sports day! Come on.
Move it! Back in your places.
Stop, stop! Quick as you can.
Back in your same places, everyone.
And we are jumping on the spot! Jumping on the spot and Three, two, one.
What's going to happen? About moles? Five mole catchers in five years.
What's the matter with them? Are you going to shoot them? Joe.
Middleton.
Arriving without an invitation and then talking to the waterman before she speaks to us.
It's as though she's selling something.
What are you selling? The thing to do is rise above and pretend you haven't noticed.
Then she won't have the satisfaction she desires.
Good afternoon, Miss Lane.
We were discussing the mole catcher problem.
Well, ask Joe.
He'll know.
Joe? Why do mole catchers die? Strychnine.
Well, it gets on to your hands.
And then you're breathing it in and then, well, it's in your blood.
And then you die.
What kind of a death? Great agony.
Off you go, Joe.
Did you see her when she got off the bus? Sucked-in waist like a man with a sour lollipop.
The doctor told us, after I had this one, he said, "Your Henry may be small but he's certainly fecund.
" What does that mean? Good seed, high yield.
Henry the fecund, they call him.
Shh.
It's what a married woman's for in the eyes of the Lord, eh, Miss Lane? Birthing, begetting.
There's been that bad winters my Henry said to me, "Why don't you have a couple of lambs instead of another baby?" Oh, yes.
We're good at begetting, us Bodens.
My Paul will make a woman of you, Agnes, you can bank on that.
I can't find the soap.
Oh, dear.
What's it like? Being married? My mother gave me some advice when I was your age.
She said, "Look after your husband as well as you're able, "but if he's not happy for reasons that you can't understand, "there's always something you can do.
" What? Mother him.
What can you see? Nothing.
Something halfway is about right.
A woman should be halfway between bustle and nothing.
Should be? Does it matter how a woman looks? Norma's being courted, Margaret.
Oh, is she now? Bert! What is it? Bert? Bert! What can you see? What is it? Hey! Boy! Get inside now.
Tell your mother what you were doing! No? I'll tell her.
Stone picking for Rutter.
This farm's halfway dead because there's no-one to work it, and me own son stone picking for Rutter.
Lie down.
What? On t'floor.
On your side.
What do you see? The door.
What else? John.
What else? The floor.
What about it? There's a dip near the door.
And there's a dip here near t'fire place, where five generations of this family have stood.
The highest point is under the table because the table has never moved and no-one's ever trodden on it under there.
This is our floor.
This is our farm.
And I will not let it go.
Catch.
Magnum Bonum.
It's the name of the potato.
Where are you off to? I'm looking for elderberry.
You put it on the blinkers and the flies don't like it.
The horse.
Big Molly.
I could help.
If you want me to.
Can't see any.
Across the bridge.
Y'all right? Eh, look at you, Bert Middleton.
In.
What's the matter with ya? He's your brother.
Come on, Bert.
Get in! Don't know what you're laughing at.
Now, did I ever tell you about the big flood? Yes, Mother.
Here y'are, look at them.
We might get dirty.
British Bulldogs! British Bulldogs, one, two three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! Early for lunch.
Rise above, baby.
Thank you very much.
Are these Magnum Bonum? I thought Magnum Bonum was the Home Secretary.
Are you a suffragist, Miss Lane? I'm a Suffragette, yes.
Active? Well, it wasn't me who placed the bomb under the coronation chair, if that's what you're asking.
We all heard it in the House.
McKenna was speaking The Home Secretary.
And to his very great credit No, thank you.
He continued with his speech.
Would you give such women the vote? Is she less worthy of the vote than the drunkard who has it now? Or the wife beater who can vote? Politics, politics.
This is a home, not a public place.
Is it? Thank you.
In women alone rests the preservation of peace in the home.
And it's that peace which inspires work all across the Empire.
The Suffragettes are reckless and foolish.
Reckless and foolish.
Like Miss Davison.
Hm.
I admired Emily Davison.
And what is it you admired in her? Her bravery.
But courage isn't always a virtue, and the consequences of courage are not always virtuous.
Does it serve your cause, I wonder? I wonder.
What do you mean? Well, should one give the vote to people who hurl themselves in front of horses? Drunkards and wife beaters, people who run in front of horses, you defeat your own argument, Miss Lane.
But I do have you talking politics, Lady Allingham.
Miss Lane.
Lady Allingham.
Emily Davison was an hysteric with an uncommon zeal for harming herself.
Martyrdom was her only aim in life.
And I for one am happy that she has satisfied her ambition.
But I have lost any interest I had in her because the attention of all right thinking men, people, women, must be on what is coming.
What is coming? What is coming? War, Caro.
War, baby.
What do we think of that? Hey? What do you think of that? Boot production.
I have plans.
Oh, do you? I'm going to make boots with flaps over the lace-holes and double tongues so no water can enter.
I think three years would be the life of such a boot and then at the end of the three years, we'd clump it.
That's another leather sole riveted on, which would give the life of the boot another two years.
Oh, how interesting.
Why are you telling us all this? Your opinion would be valuable to me.
Oh, how, how valuable? I've been led to believe the business classes have a reputation for straight talking, Mr Hankin.
Oh, politics and business, all in one lunchtime.
I think it's my fault, Lady Allingham.
The men have followed our lead.
She's a Methodist, Atherton.
They don't.
All six of them plague victims, all under ten years old.
All died within three weeks of each other.
July 1682.
Why are you showing me this? Herbert, Richard, Harold, Beatrice, Elizabeth and George.
Another George.
They're my family.
We belong here.
Why up here? No burials in the churchyard.
They thought the dead could contaminate the living.
She carried her dead children up here to put them in the ground.
That picture It's in all of my dreams.
Who? George Allingham.
Alone.
Kissing.
Father? Father? Father.
Is the bank holiday over? Yes, it is.
We might get dirty.
All pals together, Paul says.
And Joe? Yes.
Can I listen? Arnold Hankin proposed to me.
No.
No! Have you said yes? I told him I'd give him the answer tomorrow.
He's an ambitious man, Mr Hankin.
You'll want to be careful, Martha.
You don't want to end up one of the great un-enjoyed.
Whoa! Can I listen? To what? To what? Your belly.
Why? I don't know.
How will he fare in his old man's chair if he doesn't have a go? What's that? That's not you.
Where the bloody hell did you pick that up? We can We can what, Grace? He goes and you with another baby on t'way.
Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe.
Joe.
Joe.
Joe.
I can't bear it if you're not free.
Please.
What am I if I can't give that to you? Don't you see? My lovely boy.
Please.
For me.
I want you to go.
Joe! Shoes off, please, sir.
Under.
Excuse me Next! Shoes off.
Thank you.
Next! It wouldn't be right for the school if we were to both volunteer, so Morning, sir.
I won't stand in your way.
Morning, sir.
Morning.
After all, you are the younger man.
Morning, sir.
Middleton.
Who can tell me, what did the Viking invader come in? Anyone? Tommy? Ships, sir.
No.
Alf? Dreadnoughts, sir? No.
Anyone else? Gilbert.
Longboats, sir.
No.
They came in anger.
And what did they do when they got here? They pillaged.
They burnt our villages.
What did they do to our women? They took their honour.
Get home.
Get home now! Mildew! It's all ruined! Ruined! Right, lads.
Right, mate.
Good luck, our George! Come with me.
Will you marry me? Yes.
You proved you can write, when you want to.
Hit me instead, please, sir.
Sir? Please? Shhh.
Middleton! Joe! Look, it's a German dog.
Get it.
Get it.
It's a German dog.
Get it.
Stop! Joe! Stop! Stop! Get it! Stop! Stop! There he is.
It's as if you were there.
There he is.
That's how he looked.
It's as if you were there.
I'm the second oldest man in Britain.
This is the last thing I'll do, so you'd better listen carefully and do it properly.
Make it honest.
Where are we? The summer of 1914? The summer the bus came.
Put up the photograph.
I don't know why, but it was a solemn occasion, and that made it even more exciting.
It was the first ever bus to come to our village.
The bus came in.
The bus stopped.
The bus drove off.
And there she was.
No-one was expecting anyone to actually get off the bus.
There she was.
Was it love at first sight? What kind of question is that? I was 12 years old.
Of course it was love at first sight.
100 years later, when I say her name, I feel exactly the same way about her.
Martha Lane.
Martha Lane.
Joe had gone to work at the Big House.
I didn't know it then, but it was the start of him trying to get away.
I was too young, too filled up with being alive to see what he was after.
And nobody had left the village in 100 years.
My father went abroad twice in his life.
By "abroad," I mean out of the parish, and he didn't like it.
All of life was in our village.
Joe was my big brother.
It wasn't that I could tell him about the lady from the bus, but I wanted to be with him, like I always did when the sky fell in.
Or my heart heaved.
Anyway, here's what happened.
You're going to swim today.
I can't.
No, you will.
Here, did I tell you about the drowning? No.
I shouldn't.
Please! No! Please! She was sucked under and never seen again.
Here? D'you know what they say? No.
What? What? She's looking for a fellow to drown and be with her for ever.
Joe? Joe! Joe! Joe! Joe! Help! She's under us, mate.
I can feel her, she's underneath us.
Quick, quick.
Swim for your life.
Swim.
Swim, fella, swim.
Come on! Come on.
Swim! That's it, Bert, you're doing it.
You're swimming.
Swim to me.
Come on.
Oh, look! Yeah! It was her! I saw her.
We should get home.
Do we have to? It's time to go, Bert.
I'll look after you.
All right? Hello.
Why do you say hello to me? Why wouldn't I? What do you want? Who are you? I'm 19 years old.
You'll stand.
Are you going to ask me, Mother? Did you get round? Three sides on me own.
And the sheathing? I want you in the field at 3.
00 tomorrow.
Do you understand? Why are you shivering? Why's he shivering? I was teaching him how to swim.
Sit down.
Look at these hands.
Look at the work in them.
Swimming? Swimming?! Don't look at him.
I said, don't look at him! Joe.
No.
Joe.
Please! Joe.
Joe.
Joe! Joe! Joe! Joe! I don't want to be in here! Joe! Where is he? I'll wait for him.
Come to bed.
Come to bed, my man.
I want you to have your life.
You must do everything you can to find it.
You wouldn't leave us, Joe.
They're my sons.
Why aren't they with me? Why? Because my left hand is not the right hand, sir.
Mmm-hmm.
Get your hand up.
Why? Because my left hand is not the right hand, sir.
Mmm-hmm.
Get it up.
Oh.
Playing games, are we? No, no, no, no.
I'm busy here, Mr Eyre, if you don't mind.
Get your hand up.
Up.
Look at me.
Why? Why?! Another? Mother says that we'll have water on tap next year.
And then where will you be? And then where will he be? It'll get cold, Miss Caroline.
So what are you waiting for? Poor Joe.
Can you draw, Bert? Now you.
Do you see that up there? Copy the shapes.
That's all there is to it.
You're tired.
I didn't sleep much.
What time is it now? It's 3.
00.
I promised my father I'd be in the field at 3.
00.
Well, I've kept you.
You'd have been finished by now if it wasn't for me.
It's too neat.
Rake and sheath.
All in eights.
And don't think I won't check.
For this harvest, you have my thanks.
Pay me now.
Or go and come back when you can pay me.
Some more drinks, Peter.
You thieving bastard! Why did you do that, Father? He's my neighbour.
How long were you teaching for? A year.
Greek and Latin, to a small boy in a big house.
And why did you leave? My father wrote to me every Sunday telling me about the new village he'd come to.
It made me want to be here.
And what do you think? There's work to do.
Our very own missionary.
So, you'll take them? What will people think? John and Charles Wesley have come in by the back door.
I came in the front, Mr Eyre.
God doesn't need a back door.
Neither, it seems, do Yorkshirewomen.
What have you done to my son? Should we starve so he could learn to write? Does writing ever feed anyone? I know how hard things are for you.
No, you don't.
You have got no idea! But I also know that a boy needs an education.
They won't dry.
Every bloody sheath you've laid east-west.
How many times have I told you? They only dry if they're north-south.
Come on! Come on! Tripe and onions in milk and a little liver.
Joe's wages.
I'm going to bed.
Pride is a sin, John.
Then I'm going to hell, because it's all I've got.
Can I have more of that, Mother? Of course.
Thanks.
Have you eaten, Mother? Yes.
Must a man pay all his life for one mistake? Is that God's way? I forgive you.
I think it is in everything you do and say that you have not.
No, that is you, John.
It is you not allowing my forgiveness in.
Must it always be my fault? Hurry up! Come on! Come on.
Hurry up! Your father got his harvest in? You ready? I am.
Right, in your own time, Mr Evans.
Everyone, now I would like you all to run down the hill, touch the church gate, turn around and run back up to school as quick as you can.
Quick, go, go, all of you.
Mr Eyre? It's a school photograph, Mr Eyre.
On you go.
Tommy, we are going to run on the spot, come on.
Quick, quick, quick, quick.
Children! Come back! This is not a sports day! Come on.
Move it! Back in your places.
Stop, stop! Quick as you can.
Back in your same places, everyone.
And we are jumping on the spot! Jumping on the spot and Three, two, one.
What's going to happen? About moles? Five mole catchers in five years.
What's the matter with them? Are you going to shoot them? Joe.
Middleton.
Arriving without an invitation and then talking to the waterman before she speaks to us.
It's as though she's selling something.
What are you selling? The thing to do is rise above and pretend you haven't noticed.
Then she won't have the satisfaction she desires.
Good afternoon, Miss Lane.
We were discussing the mole catcher problem.
Well, ask Joe.
He'll know.
Joe? Why do mole catchers die? Strychnine.
Well, it gets on to your hands.
And then you're breathing it in and then, well, it's in your blood.
And then you die.
What kind of a death? Great agony.
Off you go, Joe.
Did you see her when she got off the bus? Sucked-in waist like a man with a sour lollipop.
The doctor told us, after I had this one, he said, "Your Henry may be small but he's certainly fecund.
" What does that mean? Good seed, high yield.
Henry the fecund, they call him.
Shh.
It's what a married woman's for in the eyes of the Lord, eh, Miss Lane? Birthing, begetting.
There's been that bad winters my Henry said to me, "Why don't you have a couple of lambs instead of another baby?" Oh, yes.
We're good at begetting, us Bodens.
My Paul will make a woman of you, Agnes, you can bank on that.
I can't find the soap.
Oh, dear.
What's it like? Being married? My mother gave me some advice when I was your age.
She said, "Look after your husband as well as you're able, "but if he's not happy for reasons that you can't understand, "there's always something you can do.
" What? Mother him.
What can you see? Nothing.
Something halfway is about right.
A woman should be halfway between bustle and nothing.
Should be? Does it matter how a woman looks? Norma's being courted, Margaret.
Oh, is she now? Bert! What is it? Bert? Bert! What can you see? What is it? Hey! Boy! Get inside now.
Tell your mother what you were doing! No? I'll tell her.
Stone picking for Rutter.
This farm's halfway dead because there's no-one to work it, and me own son stone picking for Rutter.
Lie down.
What? On t'floor.
On your side.
What do you see? The door.
What else? John.
What else? The floor.
What about it? There's a dip near the door.
And there's a dip here near t'fire place, where five generations of this family have stood.
The highest point is under the table because the table has never moved and no-one's ever trodden on it under there.
This is our floor.
This is our farm.
And I will not let it go.
Catch.
Magnum Bonum.
It's the name of the potato.
Where are you off to? I'm looking for elderberry.
You put it on the blinkers and the flies don't like it.
The horse.
Big Molly.
I could help.
If you want me to.
Can't see any.
Across the bridge.
Y'all right? Eh, look at you, Bert Middleton.
In.
What's the matter with ya? He's your brother.
Come on, Bert.
Get in! Don't know what you're laughing at.
Now, did I ever tell you about the big flood? Yes, Mother.
Here y'are, look at them.
We might get dirty.
British Bulldogs! British Bulldogs, one, two three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! British Bulldogs, one, two, three! Early for lunch.
Rise above, baby.
Thank you very much.
Are these Magnum Bonum? I thought Magnum Bonum was the Home Secretary.
Are you a suffragist, Miss Lane? I'm a Suffragette, yes.
Active? Well, it wasn't me who placed the bomb under the coronation chair, if that's what you're asking.
We all heard it in the House.
McKenna was speaking The Home Secretary.
And to his very great credit No, thank you.
He continued with his speech.
Would you give such women the vote? Is she less worthy of the vote than the drunkard who has it now? Or the wife beater who can vote? Politics, politics.
This is a home, not a public place.
Is it? Thank you.
In women alone rests the preservation of peace in the home.
And it's that peace which inspires work all across the Empire.
The Suffragettes are reckless and foolish.
Reckless and foolish.
Like Miss Davison.
Hm.
I admired Emily Davison.
And what is it you admired in her? Her bravery.
But courage isn't always a virtue, and the consequences of courage are not always virtuous.
Does it serve your cause, I wonder? I wonder.
What do you mean? Well, should one give the vote to people who hurl themselves in front of horses? Drunkards and wife beaters, people who run in front of horses, you defeat your own argument, Miss Lane.
But I do have you talking politics, Lady Allingham.
Miss Lane.
Lady Allingham.
Emily Davison was an hysteric with an uncommon zeal for harming herself.
Martyrdom was her only aim in life.
And I for one am happy that she has satisfied her ambition.
But I have lost any interest I had in her because the attention of all right thinking men, people, women, must be on what is coming.
What is coming? What is coming? War, Caro.
War, baby.
What do we think of that? Hey? What do you think of that? Boot production.
I have plans.
Oh, do you? I'm going to make boots with flaps over the lace-holes and double tongues so no water can enter.
I think three years would be the life of such a boot and then at the end of the three years, we'd clump it.
That's another leather sole riveted on, which would give the life of the boot another two years.
Oh, how interesting.
Why are you telling us all this? Your opinion would be valuable to me.
Oh, how, how valuable? I've been led to believe the business classes have a reputation for straight talking, Mr Hankin.
Oh, politics and business, all in one lunchtime.
I think it's my fault, Lady Allingham.
The men have followed our lead.
She's a Methodist, Atherton.
They don't.
All six of them plague victims, all under ten years old.
All died within three weeks of each other.
July 1682.
Why are you showing me this? Herbert, Richard, Harold, Beatrice, Elizabeth and George.
Another George.
They're my family.
We belong here.
Why up here? No burials in the churchyard.
They thought the dead could contaminate the living.
She carried her dead children up here to put them in the ground.
That picture It's in all of my dreams.
Who? George Allingham.
Alone.
Kissing.
Father? Father? Father.
Is the bank holiday over? Yes, it is.
We might get dirty.
All pals together, Paul says.
And Joe? Yes.
Can I listen? Arnold Hankin proposed to me.
No.
No! Have you said yes? I told him I'd give him the answer tomorrow.
He's an ambitious man, Mr Hankin.
You'll want to be careful, Martha.
You don't want to end up one of the great un-enjoyed.
Whoa! Can I listen? To what? To what? Your belly.
Why? I don't know.
How will he fare in his old man's chair if he doesn't have a go? What's that? That's not you.
Where the bloody hell did you pick that up? We can We can what, Grace? He goes and you with another baby on t'way.
Joe, Joe, Joe, Joe.
Joe.
Joe.
Joe.
I can't bear it if you're not free.
Please.
What am I if I can't give that to you? Don't you see? My lovely boy.
Please.
For me.
I want you to go.
Joe! Shoes off, please, sir.
Under.
Excuse me Next! Shoes off.
Thank you.
Next! It wouldn't be right for the school if we were to both volunteer, so Morning, sir.
I won't stand in your way.
Morning, sir.
Morning.
After all, you are the younger man.
Morning, sir.
Middleton.
Who can tell me, what did the Viking invader come in? Anyone? Tommy? Ships, sir.
No.
Alf? Dreadnoughts, sir? No.
Anyone else? Gilbert.
Longboats, sir.
No.
They came in anger.
And what did they do when they got here? They pillaged.
They burnt our villages.
What did they do to our women? They took their honour.
Get home.
Get home now! Mildew! It's all ruined! Ruined! Right, lads.
Right, mate.
Good luck, our George! Come with me.
Will you marry me? Yes.
You proved you can write, when you want to.
Hit me instead, please, sir.
Sir? Please? Shhh.
Middleton! Joe! Look, it's a German dog.
Get it.
Get it.
It's a German dog.
Get it.
Stop! Joe! Stop! Stop! Get it! Stop! Stop! There he is.
It's as if you were there.
There he is.
That's how he looked.
It's as if you were there.