Life on a British bomber base, and the surrounding towns, from the opening days of the Battle of Britain, to the arrival of the Americans, w...更多>
Squadron Leader Sil Carter: Well chaps, you don't need me to tell you, the target's the same as yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that. Peter Penrose: [reading] Do not despair for Johnny, head in air He sleeps as sound as Johnny underground Fetch out no shrowd for Johnny in the cloud And keep your tears for him in after years Better by far for Johnny the bright star to keep your head and see his children fed. 'Tinker' Bell: [after ordering tea] They don't warm the pots you know. I've watched them making it. Squadron Leader Sil Carter: Well, it's liquid and its warm. I was afraid they were going to abolish it all together. 'Tinker' Bell: oh, but they would have done, they were going to if I myself hadn't protested to the colonel. Squadron Leader Sil Carter: Nobley done Tinkerbell. Peter Penrose: I'm afraid I'm strictly amateur. Flight Lt. David Archdale: There aren't any amateurs and professionals anymore, just good pilots and bad pilots. The good pilots stay alive and the bad ones don't. And thats not true anymore either. 'Tinker' Bell: I say, by the way I found out what that awful brown stuff they put on the tables at dinner is. It's peanut butter. Squadron Leader Sil Carter: Made from peanuts I suppose ? 'Tinker' Bell: I imagine so. I've tried it. It's revolting. Peter Penrose: How long do you think this blasted war is going on ? Squadron Leader Sil Carter: Oh, years and years and years I should think. Spring 1955 is my personal bet. Mr. Palmer: Oh, would you believe you! Peter Penrose: [reading] Do not despair for Johnny, head in air He sleeps as sound as Johnny underground Fetch out no shroud for Johnny in the cloud And keep your tears for him in after years Better by far for Johnny the bright star to keep your head and see his children fed. Flight Lt. David Archdale: [Reciting] Less said the better, the bill unpaid, dead letter. No roses at the end of Smith, my friend. Last words don't matter, for there are none to flatter. Words will not fill the post of Smith the ghost. For Smith, our brother, only son of loving mother, the ocean lifted, stirred, leaving no word. Johnny Hollis: [mocking army issue instruction manuals] One gin and tonic size large sir, for the use of Johnny Hollis: Since when have I ever done a bad take-off ? Joe Friselli: Oh, you usually miss the control tower, I'll give you that much. Peter Penrose: Good Lord, Hitler's really had it now hasn't he. Aircraftsman:
Mark my words, no good will come of it.
Aircraftsman: That's what the next one will be like, rockets a thousand tonnes, you mark my words.