Dunkirk Page #2

They went in there

quick enough, didn't they?

Hmm, I suppose you're right.

Of course I'm right.

It's a lot of

blasted propaganda.

Still, they don't let him say

it on the radio, don't they?

Oh, there you are,

Frankie.

Awkward evening,

Mr. Holden.

What was wrong

with the machine?

Oh, the die got jammed.

I reset it same as last time.

Oh, let's have a look.

Oh, that's fine there.

Yeah.

How's Mrs. Holden

and the baby?

Did you see them today?

Oh, yes, I did.

They're grand.

He's gained another 3 ounces.

Terrific he is.

Heh, go on.

You'll be telling me next

he's had his call-up papers.

Yes, that's the only blight

in the picture.

He had to come along

when there's a war on.

Don't worry.

It'll be all over

before he's out

of his nappies.

Heh.

I hope you're right.

All right, girls.

You can lock up now.

Will you lock up by yourself

tonight, Frankie?

Sure, I'll do it myself.

If you want me I'll be

over at the Queens Head.

Goodnight, girls.

GIRLS:

Goodnight, Mr. Holden.

Don't forget

to blackout.

No, I won't.

How about a drink, Alfred,

or do I serve myself?

Serve yourself, Mr. Foreman.

I must put up this blackout.

It's okay, Alfred.

Don't worry.

[]

Charles,

do you have to do that?

I have a great, I might say,

monumental thirst.

I've been

to a press conference.

Any news?

Oh, the usual.

Leaflets raids over Hamburg.

Patrol activity

along the entire front.

The usual claptrap.

A light ale, dear?

Please.

Evening, all.

Hello, Alfred.

ALFRED:

Evening, Mr. Holden.

Evening, Mrs. Foreman.

Hello.

How's Grace and the baby?

Oh, fine. Just fine.

Wet the baby's head, Holden.

What'll you have?

Scotch, if I may,

please, Mr. Foreman.

Right.

Alfred,

the whisky's run dry.

Well, you'd better go easy

on it.

If I don't get anymore

by Monday

I'll have to ration you.

No more doubles.

Oh, come off it,

Alfred.

You can always get some

on the side.

I can't do

without my Scotch.

What are you kicking

about?

You could always turn a little

petrol into a little whisky

couldn't you?

Well, wouldn't you? Heh.

It's a lovely war.

How many buckles

have you turned out this week?

200 gross,

I shouldn't wonder.

The Army's got to

have buckles, hasn't it?

Especially if it's caught

with its pants down.

Still, I suppose somebody's

got to make them.

Thank our lucky stars

we're not wearing them, eh?

Charles!

Give us another pint,

guv, will you?

Well, one does

what one can.

They made it a reserved

occupation. I didn't.

Anyway, would I have done any

more by sitting on my backside

in France

for the last six months.

Well, would I?

A new baby,

200 gross of buckles,

unlimited petrol

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes