Convoy Page #3

Synopsis: Lt. Cranford lives the life of a playboy sportsman until the outbreak of war when he joins the Royal Navy and is assigned to convoy protection duties. The convoy is a part of the vital supply chain that is all that is allowing Britain to fight off the Nazi threat. A German battleship targets the convoy protection ships and a deadly game of cat and mouse ensues.
Genre: Drama, War
Director(s): Pen Tennyson
Production: Ealing Studios
 
IMDB:
6.6
Year:
1940
78 min
356 Views


Yes, sir,

you can't keep a good man down.

Pity. Get me a drink.

Beer, please.

Well, I've got a spot of work to do,

if you'll forgive me.

Oh, I'll give you a hand.

The glass must be falling,

deep depression.

Your luggage has been

put in your cabin, sir.

Thank you.

I'm afraid I've come to stay.

Thanks for the drink.

Oh, ha-ha, not at all.

What on earth's the matter,

Commander?

It's an awkward thing to talk about.

I thought he seemed a nice bloke, sir.

That's a matter of opinion.

I've served with Tom Armitage for a long

time, he's one of my oldest friends.

Oh, what's the skipper

got to do with it?

Well, five years ago, we were out on

the China Station, his wife was there.

- So was young Cranford.

- Oh, well, that was it.

Yes, there was a divorce.

- Tough luck on the skipper.

- These sort of things do happen, sir.

Just what I felt, till we learned

a year later at Singapore,

that Cranford had let her down.

- Didn't marry her, you mean?

- Exactly.

I'm one of those rare birds,

a happily married man.

I don't set out to be a moralist,

still, you know what it is.

- You must draw the line somewhere.

- Exactly.

Yes, we seem to be well-off

for balaclavas, Jenkins.

Two navy, three beige,

one in your hand, that's six.

Your lady friends

like to keep you warm, sir.

Nonsense, Jenkins, all knitted by elderly

relatives on the front at Bournemouth.

- Keep that one for yourself.

- Thank you, sir.

- I say, sir?

- Yes?

About wangling my leave, sir,

I've come to ask you not to bother.

I see. All right, my lad,

makes no difference to me.

- Thanks all the same.

- Don't mention it. Have a helmet.

No, thank you, sir.

- Another one for you, Jenkins.

- Thank you, sir.

(Bugle blares)

Lower deck clear,

ship's company mustered aft, sir.

Thank you, master-at-arms.

Lower deck clear, sir.

Everybody aft.

Ship's company, stand at ease.

I want to thank you all for the way

you've acquitted yourselves

during the patrol we've just finished.

You've given the enemy

a taste of your quality.

I know there are people

you're fond of ashore...

He means you, Shorty,

someone must've split.

Oh, pack it up!

I know you're expecting leave

and you deserve it...

- This looks good to me.

- Sounds like a week at least.

...but I don't have to remind you that

we're at war and have to make sacrifices.

The orders I have just received

from the Admiralty

put general leave out of the question.

Hard luck, Shorty.

Our flotilla has been selected

for special duty,

and I hope this news will make up

for the disappointment you've suffered,

because I don't mind telling you,

it may give us the chance of action

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Patrick Kirwan

Patrick Kirwan (1899–1984) was a British screenwriter. more…

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Submitted on August 05, 2018

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