Eye of the Needle

---

This is Bruce Davids from London.

The city is in flames from

the German bombs dropped last night

by Hitler's Luftwaffe.

The dead are being dug from the rubble

and in France, the German armies

wait for this country to surrender.

But English troops are fighting back.

In the skies, the young men of the RAF

are struggling against the Nazi forces

which only a year ago

invaded Poland, swept through France,

and left this country standing alone

in a conflict which, if lost,

could destroy the Free World.

Sergeant Major, move the men in.

All right, you lot, move.

Mind your backs. Gangway.

I found the four extra carriages you need.

- Good.

- You'll have your thousand men.

- I'd rather be with them than here.

- Finland appeals to you, does it?

- Is it the country or the ladies?

- Just a brief surge of patriotism.

- Are you coming for a drink?

- Thanks, no. Perhaps tomorrow.

Hello?

- See you in the morning.

- Yes.

Three that I can see from here.

Cheers.

- Mr Faber?

- Hello, Billy.

I've got another interview with the army.

You don't look any older

than you did last week.

My mate Harry's got some cream

that'll take the pimples off just like that.

There's no need to rush. There'll be

plenty of war left, I can promise you.

But I want to fight now.

Everyone's in uniform except me.

Unless they've got a special job like you.

- What about the navy, Billy?

- I've been thinking about the navy, but...

- Well, I can't swim a stroke.

- Then the air force is out.

- Why?

- Well, you haven't got wings, have you?

- Take these over, love.

- Thank you.

- All the best, love.

- Thank you.

- All the very best.

- Thank you. Thanks very much.

Mrs Rose?

David, darling.

I think I'd better go and get changed.

- Can I help?

- No, you can't.

Well, my boy,

when do you join your squadron?

Tomorrow, sir. A Spitfire.

I saw her yesterday. Lovely kite.

There we are.

Mama, I'm so happy.

Oh, darling.

- He is a lovely boy.

- Isn't he.

Darling...

Off you go, Emma.

Both of you.

- Lucy...

- Yes?

Lucy, I...

I don't know what

you're expecting tonight, but I...

I... I think you should know that...

Mama, I do know.

Goodbye, Mother.

Goodbye, Daddy.

Bye.

Billy, you missed your tea. And you,

Faber. Have something at the pub.

- Thanks. I'll just have a wash.

- See you there.

- Freddy, can I come?

- I don't know about that.

- You in the army yet?

- Tell him about that miracle cream.

Oh, yeah.

Will you tell Mrs Garden I'll be late?

My mate Harry's got this cream

that takes all the pimples off...

Mr Faber, I've kept

a nice piece of meat pie warm for you.

- We mustn't let that go to waste.

- Not with this rationing, we mustn't.

I'll be down in a minute.

24 hours isn't very long

for a honeymoon, is it?

We can start right now.

There's a bottle of bubbly down there.

So there is.

- There we are. Are there glasses?

- But of course. Everything's supplied.

- Oh, dear.

- What?

Well, I was just thinking of Mother.

This afternoon, she tried to tell me

what happens on a wedding night.

She's a bit late. What did you say?

I said she was a bit late, didn't I?

Henry?

Mr Faber?

What are you doing?

It's all right. It's... just for the station.

Classified work regarding the trains.

I shouldn't really be telling you.

- Please, listen to me.

- No.

Trust me.

- You're a spy.

- Stop struggling.

Listen to me, please.

Last night, the Luftwaffe's

main target was again London.

Considerable damage was done

to residential and industrial areas...

David, be careful.

You're not in your Spitfire yet.

Dearly beloved brethren,

Rate this script:0.0 / 0 votes