Keep Young and Beautiful Dad's Army

# Who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler,

# If you think we're on the run?

# We are the boys who will stop your little game

# We are the boys who will make you think again

# 'Cos who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler,

# If you think old England's done?

# Mr Brown goes off to town on the 8.21

# But he comes home each evening and he's ready with his gun

# So who do you think you are kidding, Mr Hitler,

# If you think old England's done? #

Is it not a fact, Mr Speaker,

that many younger, fitter men joined the ARP at the start of the war?

Is it not further a fact that when the Home Guard was formed, only the older and less fit men were left?

It would be desirable for younger men to be drafted into the Home Guard,

and for some of the old war-horses in the Home Guard to be drafted into the ARP

to be given the task of telling us to close our curtains.

Are you aware that in my constituency, hundreds of people can't afford curtains?!

This is a most valuable suggestion.

I shall consult the Home Secretary to see if some exchange of personnel is possible at a local level.

-But the experience of these older soldiers has been invaluable.

-Hear, hear!

The Home Guard is ceaselessly on the alert

-if the enemy set foot here, these men would be formidable opponents.

-Hear, hear!

EXPLODING SHELLS

Come on, men! Go to it with a will!

I'm not enjoying this very much!

-Yon Mainwaring's taken leave of his senses!

-This can't be good for the heart!

Don't grumble! After the war, we've got a nice little business delivering telegraph poles!

Don't give up! You really are doing most awfully well!

Gather round!

Our toughest troops do this, and if they can do it, so can we.

Mr Mainwaring, can I have a shoulder pad?

-No.

-It's getting raw!

-There's no mollycoddling in my platoon!

Jones spends half his time carrying the pole, and the other half dangling!

-It was Pikey that was dangling.

-I was not dangling!

That's enough.

Now, cross the field, go under the tarpaulin and cross the stream with the poles.

There's a pint of beer each for the first section to cross.

-We'll win. I'd like a pint.

-Don't dangle, then!

-I won't.

-GO!

EXPLODING SHELLS

GROANS

Try not to look quite so bored, Wilson.

I can't help it, sir. Crawling under a tarpaulin IS rather boring.

Come on now! Like lightning!

FRAZER: You're going round and round, you silly old fool!

PIKE: Mr Jones! Mr Jones!

Mr Jones! Mr Jones!

-What is it?

-We forgot the pole!

It's in? Right, push!

Hurry up, Jones' section! Catch up!

OK, lads!

Isn't this like tossing the caber!

I'll toss YOU!

Naughty temper!

-FRAZER: We'll shin across.

-We're not shinning, we're walking.

This isn't a circus! I'M shinning!

All right. Hold hands, and don't look at your feet.

Don't look at your feet, whatever you do! Look up.

You'll be all right. Look up.

Don't look at your feet. Don't look down. Don't look...down...

I told you not to look at my feet!

I didn't say "halt"! Carry on.

Double mark time!

Platoon...halt!

Fall out!

-Come in the office.

-Right, sir.

He said "fall out", not "fall down"!

My legs won't carry the weight of the water I swallowed!

Oh! Goodness me! That was very tiring, sir!

You're just out of condition.

-Are you all right, sir?

-Of course!

Pumping the blood so fast makes one a bit dizzy.

You shouldn't have made them double the last 200 yards.

I didn't want the chaps who fell in to catch cold.

WITH CHATTERING TEETH Mr Godfrey, can I come to your house and get dry, please?

If my mum sees me like this, she won't let me come again!

We don't have fires on Wednesdays.

Cissy stays in bed with a hot water bottle. You can't get the coal.

-I've got a spare uniform.

-Thank you, Joe.

-It won't cost you much.

Dear, oh dear. That's better.

You're not leaving those there, are you?

Of course not, sir. They really did awfully well, didn't they?

It was a shambles. Jones' section was a joke!

But they WERE trying awfully hard.

That won't be enough against Hitler's Prussian butchers!

We'll have to split the platoon into those who are fit and those who are not up to battle standards.

-I tried that. It looked untidy.

-How do you mean?

There were two in one half and 21 in the other!

I sometimes wish I had younger men under my command.

-Others seem to think so too.

-Pardon?

The War Office is suggesting officers look at their men's age and fitness

with a view to exchanging personnel with the ARP.

This is outrageous! I shall fight that tooth and nail!

-I agree.

-Fancy me saying, "I have no further use for you. You are now members of the ARP."

You won't have to. The area commander will choose who goes to the ARP and which wardens join us.

What? I'm not having any of Hodges' rabble in my unit!

-I agree. If this goes on, there's no end to it.

-Of course not.

You don't want Hodges' rabble in your unit,

but YOU might find yourself in the ARP, and this might finish as HIS unit.

-See what I mean?

-What are you talking about?

-They'd never give my platoon to a greengrocer! What does he know about the army?

-He was in the last lot.

Doesn't matter. This is a different kind of war.

-He did face the enemy. He looks fit, and he's younger than...some of us.

-Meaning me?

-You're not absolutely decrepit. And you're not exactly Aubrey Smith.

-Thank you.

-Then again, you're not exactly Freddie Bartholomew.

-Hm?

Anybody there?

Anybody about?

Anybody there?

Oooh!

-KNOCKS

-Yes! W-w...oh!

W-w-wait a minute!

-Is everything all right, sir?

-Yes, perfectly all right.

Sorry to have kept you, Wilson.

I thought it was stuck. I was going round.

-I was looking at some secret files.

-Ah.

I'm glad you could get here early. Do sit down.

I've been thinking about that conversation...

Sit down. And, you know, I think...

-I said "sit down."

-I'd rather stand, sir.

-What's the matter?

-Nothing. I just feel a bit stiff.

Ah! I see!

Yesterday's exercise leaving its mark, is it?

I felt one or two twinges too. Gets me in the back, here.

Please don't do that, sir. I'm rather ticklish.

Wilson?

You're wearing corsets! Am I right?

It's a "gentleman's abdominal support".

"Gentleman's abdominal support" my foot! It's corsets!

You're a rum cove!

You wear that uniform like a sack of porridge, yet you're as vain as a peacock!

It's not vanity. I just don't want to be drafted into Hodges' mob.

I'm proud of this platoon. You've done wonders.

So it pays not to look older than one needs.

-I'm sorry, Wilson.

-That's all right!

It was kind of you to pay that tribute to me.

It doesn't come easy to a cold fish like you.

Here am I pouring scorn on you, and I had no right to.

I have to tell you that I, too, have taken some steps to look more...more virile.

Ah. Oh my God, it's not monkey glands, is it?

Nothing as drastic as that!

What do you think of this?

-Oh, it's awful!

-What?

Ha-ha-ha! No, it's awfully good! Ha-ha-ha!

Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear. Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha!

HAHAHAHA!!

Watch it, Wilson you might snap your girdle!

The result was, I was beneath him, if you follow me. Just like this.

Now, as true as I'm standing here, peeking out from under the brim o' his hat,

was a wee kiss-curl.

That doesn't sound like Captain Mainwaring!

I think he's gone soft in the head!

We should go and have a butcher's.

I'm not going.

-You go, Pikey, you're the youngest.

-We ought to dip for it.

-All right.

-All right. Eeny, meeny, miney, mo. It's you. Go on.

You haven't finished yet.

O-U-T spells out you must go. It's you.

Now, you find some way of getting to talk to him,

then get yourself down below him so you can look under the peak o' his cap.

-You're not listening!

-He cheated!

Never mind. Now, you'll have to make some kind of excuse.

Say you think we should go to the barracks and practise on the firing range.

How did you do that?

To keep the men fit, we can have one extra period of physical training.

-You'll be taking that, sir?

-No, you will.

-Oh.

I also think that as well as, and in addition to also,

we should do one hour of bayonet fighting practice.

The cold steel puts fear into the heart of the Boche.

They don't like it, sir. They don't like it, especially up 'em.

-I remember a good example of this...

-Yes.

-..This big barbarian came down and I...

-Yes, all right.

I'll note it. Rejoin your section.

KNOCK ON DOOR

-Come in!

-Thank you, sir.

-All right, Jones.

-Thank you, sir.

-Off you go.

-Get out!

Excuse me, sir.

-Yes, Pike, what is it?

-Barracks.

Pardon?

We, um, haven't done it for a long time.

What on earth are you talking about, boy?

We, um, ought to go and shoot at the targets with miniature rifles.

-Are you all right?

-Yes.

-Are you wearing corsets?

-Am I what?

-Are you wearing corsets?

-I didn't know we were supposed to.

Start again, Pike.

-Do you mind if I rejoin the platoon? I want to speak to the men.

-Go ahead.

Now, Pike.

Well, um...

..the men...

..asked me to ask you...

..if we could do more of it.

I'm sure they didn't ask you to pray for it.

-Stand up!

-Yes, um...

..Anyway, um... we thought if we went down to the local one and borrowed theirs,

we'd be better at it because we'd have had more practice with it than them.

Oh dear! How careless! I've dropped your papers! I shall pick them up for you!

Oh!

Pike, would you tell me exactly what you're up to?

He doesn't want us split up and drafted into the ARP. And we don't want to lose HIM, do we?

ALL: No.

He's very sensitive about it, so please try not to stare. Treat it as something ordinary.

But do please promise me one thing don't laugh.

Right. Fall into three ranks.

Come on! You heard what the officer said!

Get fell in! Right sir, we're in three ranks.

Thank you, Corporal. Platoon, atten-SHUN!

ONE FOOT LANDS LATE

Now, it has come to my notice

that aspects of my appearance are causing speculation and some hilarity.

I don't beat about the bush, so here it is straight from the shoulder.

I am wearing a toupee.

A wig, if that makes it any clearer.

So if any of you want a good laugh at my expense, now's your chance,

because I'm going to show it to you.

Personally, I think it makes him look older.

Mr Hodges, you might find yourself under Captain Mainwaring.

And you don't get on, do you?

I'd rather serve under Captain Bligh!

Those onions are like gold, Mabel shove 'em under the counter.

If your hair was greyer, you'd look less young and fit.

Young and fit? With my heart and my nerves?

It's silly to take chances. I've got something here that'll make your hair white instantly.

It's expensive, and I can only let you have an ounce. But to you, it's a quid. Are you on?

Well, yeah. I don't want to take any chances, do I?

Good man. I'll bring it round.

# I-I-I-I-I-I like you very much

# I-I-I-I-I-I think you're grand. #

RAPS ON LETTERBOX

OWL HOOTS

What's amiss?

Can we talk to you for a minute?

Sorry about the candles the blinds are a bit thin for the glare of the gaslight.

I like candles they're more romantic.

What would you be wanting?

Well, we've been looking in the mirror,

and we think if anyone is picked to go on the ARP,

it'll be us three, because we're the oldest.

Man, you're right. I've been brooding on it.

-You know old Mr Armstrong?

-Him that passed away last month.

-Aye.

-Yes. Well, you managed to make him look not a day over 60 and he was nearly 97!

They do say I have a rare skill at beautifying the late lamented.

Well?

Mr Godfrey and I could you do the same for us?

Eh, man, that's a challenge, and no mistake!

-We'd be very grateful.

-You wouldn't be out of pocket!

Uh-huh. Away into the next room, and lie on the slab.

Pay attention, everybody, please. Fall in.

Where's Mr Jones, Mr Frazer and Mr Godfrey?

Leaving it till the last minute. Mainwaring's going to have kittens.

Right there.

Come on, chaps, hurry up! Come on, Godfrey!

-Oh, there you are.

-Over there.

-Right.

-Jones, fall in, quick as you can.

-Come on, Jonesy.

I'm sorry, but without my specs I'm a bit hard of seeing.

Right, squad...

-Wait for it, Jones!

-I'm a bit too alert this morning.

Of course. Squad, atten-SHUN!

-Is that better?

-Not much better, but never mind. Platoon ready for your inspection, sir.

Thank you. I think you know this inspection by the area commander is against my wishes.

However, orders are orders.

But if anyone is forced to join the ARP, I shall complain to the highest authority.

Thank you.

-You'll be all right.

-Thank you, sir.

-And you, Walker.

-Thank you, sir.

Don't know about...

Who is this?

I think that's Jones, sir.

Jones? What have you been doing to yourself?

I didn't want to leave you. Nor these brave troops that you captain and I lance-corporal.

Private Frazer fixed me up.

Frazer?

INCOHERENT MUMBLING

What did Holly say, Winnie?

He's not speaking plainly on account of his cheeks is puffed up with cotton wool.

-You knew about this?

-I turned a blind eye.

You had no business. Only I have the authority to turn blind eyes.

Godf...

Godfrey?

Whatever's happened to you?

Frazer's fluid, sir. It stretches the skin.

This is ridiculous!

He looks like Madam Butterfly! Get it off at once!

I don't think I can, sir!

-How long does it last, Frazer?

-Mmm-bmhm-mbmmm.

-What does he say?

-He's never dug anyone up to have a look!

DOOR SLAMS

-There you are, Napoleon!

-How dare you barge in here!

-Clear off!

Forget any ideas about getting me into your lot. Look!

-Very distinguished.

-Not bad, eh?

Wait till he tries to get it off!

-Why go to the trouble?

-I'd rather look 107 than serve under you!

I see. Pity it doesn't show under the hat.

Well, what if it doesn't?

I'll stoop, that's what I'll do!

JEERS

I'm not joining your squad! Even the Chelsea pensioners won't have me!

I don't approve, but it's too late to do anything, so be it on your own heads.

Ha-ha! That's rather witty, sir!

-Just carry on, Sergeant.

-Right, sir.

Platoon, left TURN!

By the right, quick march! Left wheel!

That way, Corporal.

He didn't pick any. Seems you've got away with it.

I hope so, sir. I do apologise...

Congratulations. You used initiative in a crisis.

We do our best, sir.

I saw nothing, of course. Hope it comes off all right.

I expect it will.

THUNDER

-Just got it over in time! Give the old boy three cheers and I'll buy you a drink.

-Yes, sir.

Blimey, here it comes!

Number one platoon, three cheers for the General!

Hooray!

Hip, hip,

Hooray! Hip, hip, hooray!

Hooray! Hooray!

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