If the Cap Fits 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? #

-Wilson, read these notes in a loud clear voice.

-A loud clear voice.

-Have you sorted the slides, Jones?

-I shan't be a tick.

I'm very excited. We've never had a lecture like this.

It's...it's a perfect disgrace!

Stuck in here like this on a beautiful summer's evening,

with the blackouts up.

We need them to see the pictures.

But it's positively unhealthy, son. You can cut the air with a knife.

Look at him.

The silly old fool's in a deep coma.

Don't wake him. He's been up all day (!)

Hey!

# Why are we waiting, Why are we waiting? #

-What's happening out there?

-Sounds like Frazer.

-I thought so too.

-# Oh, why, why...

-# ..why?

-Quiet!

-# Why are we...? #

-Be quiet!

We will come out only when we're ready.

-Are the blackouts up?

-Yes, sir.

Here, this is a lot of Zulus dancing.

That's the vicar's lecture, "Light Into Darkest Africa".

Let's go! Right, settle down! Pike, put out the lights!

-Wilson, light the candles.

-Aye, sir.

Now, the subject this evening is "Know Your Enemy".

We're going to show you some Germans in uniform.

Right.

Wilson. Wilson!

-You're not in church.

-Sorry, sir.

-Ready to show the slides, Corporal?

-Yes. Ready in a minute. Keep back.

Are you ready to read the notes?

Quite ready, sir.

-First slide.

-Have you got your clicker?

-Have I what?

-It's a little metal frog. You go click and I know when to change slide.

-No, I haven't a clicker.

-Oh. Get the vicar's clicker.

-You're not having the vicar's clicker!

-Would you mind saying click, sir?

-Certainly not. Put the first slide in.

-Very good, sir, right. CLICK!

Private. Infantry Rifleman, front. Grey uniform. Colours on right of steel helmet.

Several things to notice, but I want you to particularly notice the eyes.

Mean, shifty, set too close together.

Typical Nazi. Next slide.

-Click!

-Just a minute! I'm the one supposed to say click.

-Come on!

-Don't you say click!

-Get the next slide!

-Right. Click!

-Private. Infantry Rifleman, rear. German eagle on left side of helmet.

-There.

Notice the red, nasty, bull neck bulging out over the collar.

Also typically Nazi. Right, next one.

-Click!

-Click! Oh, shut up! Click!

-Panzer Grenadier. Light Machine Gunner.

-Now, notice the ears, here.

There are no lobes. Well-known criminal trait.

-Mr Mainwaring, aren't there any nice-looking Germans?

-No.

-What's that thing hanging down?

-What thing?

-That thing there?

-This thing here?

-That thing there.

-What is that thing hanging down there?

-I don't know. It doesn't say.

Excuse me, sir, I think it's the starting-handle to a pansy-tank.

-Yes, very possibly. Next one.

-Right, sir. Click!

Cavalry, Private, First Class.

-That's smart.

-I don't want any of that sort of talk, Pike.

That's not smart! That's ersatz rubbish.

That uniform'll fall to bits in weeks. All for show, not blow.

Not like the British uniform. Strong, sturdy, lasting, crafted.

-Carry on, sergeant.

-Right. Cavalrymen serving in...

-< Sir! Sir!

-Yes, Frazer?

-Could you ask the sergeant to speak up?

I cannae hear him! He's mumbling!

-Can't any of you hear?

-No, no. No! Sorry, uncle!

Wilson! How can I command attention when you talk in that boring voice? It's very monotonous.

-Try and lift it up and down a bit.

-Right, sir, I'll do my best.

Cavalrymen...serving in infantry reconnaissance units...

belong to the infantry arm. Armoured division infantry are designated...

-All right, that'll do.

-Is that going up and down enough, do you think?

Notice the dozy look on this man's face.

Quite different from our keen, alert...Godfrey! Godfrey!

Waken him up someone!

Be keen and alert!

Oh, sorry, sir. I must have dropped off. It's rather stuffy in here.

Yes. I'm afraid you must put up with it. You're on active service.

It's likely that the first Germans we encounter, will be parachutists.

Can we have the first parachutist, Corporal?

All right, sir, keep back. Click!

ROARS OF LAUGHTER

-It's upside down!

-It's not upside down, he's...

Of course it's upside down!

Jones may be right. Maybe his 'chute failed and he landed on his head!

Don't be absurd, Walker. Turn it round!

-Right, sir.

-Parachutist, 2nd Lieutenant.

Mr Mainwaring, why's he got such titchy legs?

They're not titchy legs, it's his uniform. The crutch is cut low.

I wouldn't say it was all that low.

-Stuffing, sir!

-What's that, Frazer?

(Stuffing.) Protection. Padding, for protection.

In case he lands on iron railings.

That's right. They don't like landing on iron railings...

All right. All right.

You may have a point there, Walker.

All the iron railings have gone for scrap.

The Germans don't know that.

Where's his gun? Left on the plane!

Walker, one more word and I'll ask you to leave.

-Evening, Napoleon! GROANS

-Well?

A word with the verger. Sorry.

I'm looking after the vicar's apparatus.

Why are you all crouched in the dark?

-I'm giving a lecture.

-A lecture? You're looking at funny photos.

-Funny photos?

-Yeah, girls with no...whoa!

-Girls...? How dare you! Get out!

-Not till I've seen the verger.

-Well, sit down till I'm finished. You might learn something.

-Right, go on!

-German Navy...

-Just a minute! I'll give the orders here.

-Sorry.

-Be quiet!

-Shall I go now?

-Yes.

-German Navy. Admiral of the Line.

The number of rings worn denote the rank.

-Slide, please.

-Yes, sir, sorry, I'm in a bit of a muddle. Stand back, stand back.

-Sort it out.

-Yes, right, sir. Ready, sir, ready.

-Read it out again.

-Right, sir.

-German Navy. Admiral of the Line. The number of rings worn denotes rank.

-Click!

CHEERS AND CLAPPING

-Shut the door, Wilson.

-Yes, sir.

I didn't say anything out there.

-I didn't want to show you up.

-I don't understand.

It's that ridiculous eye-glass. You look like an advertisement for Sharp's Toffee.

I wear this monocle because I have a weakness in my right eye. It's been bothering me.

The oculist recommended it.

Weakness, my foot (!) Why can't you wear glasses like anybody else?

Anyway, they're for officers only.

Show me, in King's Regulations, where it says I can't wear one.

-I needn't. Sergeants don't wear monocles.

-Officers shouldn't wear arch supports!

-Leave my feet out of it!

-Only if you leave my eyes out of it.

Look here...

-Let's not be childish.

-Quite, sir.

-Have you considered the hazards?

-Yes.

If you wear a gas-mask and drop it, you couldn't put it back in.

It would rattle about inside the mask.

No sergeant of mine will have a rattling monocle.

Besides, you might block the air intake.

-KNOCK AT DOOR

-Come in.

-What is it, Frazer?

-Captain Mainwaring, I'll come straight to the point.

You've always wasted a lot of our precious time. Tonight was the last straw.

-Look here, Frazer!

-Let me finish.

I've made some careful notes. If you'll just haud on a wee...

I'll give you one or two items that might interest ye.

On November the 6th, 1940,

you wasted three hours giving us a lecture on why the Germans don't play cricket.

On January the 28th, 1941,

you lectured us on how Hitler, when he's in a rage, bites the carpet.

-It's well known.

-Maybe. You then wasted two hours,

working out a plan on how to send him a poisoned hearth-rug.

According to my notes, it comes to a total of four hundred and thirty-eight hours

wasted on useless blathering.

That's how I feel.

I had to tell you to your face. No offence intended, you understand.

That's all!

-Incredible! That's rank insubordination.

-It was rather strong.

Strong (?) I've had enough of him.

He's been a thorn in my side ever since this unit was formed. I...

-Wait a minute! Grumbling, grumbling...

-Pardon?

-There's something in the Home Guard Manual.

-Oh, yes? What was that?

Ah! Here we are. Man Management.

-There is a cure for unnecessary grousing, but a bad CO or NCO may be afraid to try it.

-Mm-hm.

It is a temporary exchange of rank.

Let the grumbler run the section or platoon,

and learn for himself that it is not so easy.

-I'm not afraid.

-Right.

-I'll throw out the challenge.

-Sir.

-He'll soon stop.

-Yes.

And in conclusion... I feel...

I must say, that there is in the ranks a certain dissatisfaction,

with my method of command.

-Permission to speak, sir?

-Yes.

I want to say this. I see it this way.

An officer is an officer. A sergeant is a sergeant. And a private is a private.

Yes?

That's all there is, sir.

-What's that got to do with it?

-I thought I ought to say it.

I think it's unfair, if many are blamed for the errors of the few.

-Hear, hear!

-Glad to hear that, Frazer. It underlines my point.

You are the chief culprit.

-Me?

-Yes. Whenever there's any discontent, you are at the bottom of it.

I have only one thing to say about this.

If any of you think you can run this platoon better than me,

you're welcome to try, starting now.

-That'll take the wind out of his sails.

-Yes.

-Any comments?

-Yes. I have.

-Yes, Frazer?

Give me your pips!

DROPS BATON

Naw, naw. Ye canny wheedle your way out of this with me.

There's a discrepancy.

8 yards of 4 x 2 unaccounted for.

-Well, I...

-Sta-a-and tae attention while addressing an officer.

-I...may have given a little extra to some of the chaps.

-Precisely.

-Hm?

-Incompetence... and extravagance...

maybe even corruption!

Well, that's it. You're busted.

-Pardon?

-You heard. You're busted. Get them off.

-Get what off?

-Those stripes. I want those stripes, PRIVATE Wilson.

And tell yon stout fella to come in.

-Look here, you can't...

-QUIET!

You're dismissed. Right turn, quick march! Left! Right! Hey, you!

Walker! In here. Oh! At the double!

Everything all right, Wilson?

-Frazer has gone too far.

-I'm sure you can handle him.

-He busted me!

-He's what?

-Reduced me to the ranks.

Ah. Hm.

It's a good sign, really. Give him enough rope to hang himself.

-What's he busted you for?

-Some discrepancy in the store. 8 yards of 4 x 2. I ask you!

-I've warned you too.

-He was offensive. Told me to take my stripes off.

-You should do something about it.

-Yes.

-I will.

-Thank-you. I knew I could rely on you.

Hand me those scissors, will you?

Ha (!) All these ribbons (!)

They cut no ice with me, Jones. You should know where you stand from the start.

You're a woolly-minded old ditherer.

-A woolly-minded old ditherer?

-At least your hearing's sound.

If that's what you think, I'm resigning.

I wouldn't serve under you if the King asked me.

I'm reducing myself to the ranks as effect from now.

A good riddance o' bad rubbish.

Don't come to my shop for sausages. The answer will be the infirmative.

Sorry, Wilson, you must soldier on as a private.

I know he'll be rude to me and I cannot bear that. My heart pounds,

and I just have to sit down.

-You don't sit when I'm rude.

-I know but I don't take any notice of you.

-KNOCKING

-Come in.

-What is it, corporal?

-Well...Cap-tain Mainwaring...

-Cap...Captain Mainwaring...

-Is something the matter?

Sir, you know me... I'd go through fire...

and brimstone and treacle for you.

I will not serve under a common man, sir, so after forty years, I'm resigning my non-commission.

-Go and sit down, corporal. Playing right into our hands.

-Oh, really?

Antagonising people. No-one will serve under him.

-KNOCKING

-Come in.

-Excuse me. Uncle Private?

-Oh, Frank!

-Shall I tell Mum you'll be home?

-Yes.

-Captain Frazer says I can go home now with the good news.

-What news?

He says I have hidden qualities of drive, tenacity and leadership.

-So he gave me this.

-Oh...oh...

Right!

Captain Frazer says Privates Wilson and...Jones can go home to recuperate.

Wants you here tomorrow, 6.30 SHARP!

Sir! His compliments. He wants your stick and gloves.

How dare he!

Come in, man. Come in, come in!

-Sit ye down. Take the weight off your feet.

-Thank-you. You're very kind.

Now, my dear friend, I know I've said some harsh things to you, for your own good, but no doubt they hurt.

I felt you never meant them unkindly.

Precisely. I'm a simple man. I speak my mind and what's in this hard old Scottish heart.

But now I'm in charge, you need have no fears. I sympathise wi' ye.

-That's very kind.

-If ever you feel off colour, or it's your day for the clinic,

don't worry about it.

-Don't bother to come in at all.

-That's very understanding.

But if you do, you'll do as the others and take the consequences.

So now we know where we stand.

KNOCKING Come in.

Oh! SQUAD 'SHUN!

-Are you the commander?

-I am indeed.

-I'm Menzies. Your new area command.

I'm glad they put a Scotsman in charge.

-Where are you from?

-The Isle of Barra, sir.

A wild and lonely place it is, you understand. The life is hard and so are the men.

-That's what we need now.

-Aye.

-I might go now?

-Aye, go on, go on.

Thank-you for being so considerate...

I think.

How are things with the unit?

It's been a bad day. My sergeant's on the fiddle,

my corporal's incompetent, but, I busted them both.

Oh, I see. Can you replace them?

-It's already done.

-Well, there's no worries here.

-Thank-you, sir.

Oh, Captain, I don't suppose you play the pipes?

Indeed I do, sir.

I'm planning a wee Highland do at HQ Officers' Mess. Will you come?

It'll be a rare honour, sir.

Good. I'll send you an invitation. Meanwhile, carry on the good work.

-Thank-you, sir.

-Good day, Captain Mainwaring.

-Good day...

Mainwaring...

Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear.

I'm glad Mainwaring impressed you.

I never knew he played the bagpipes.

He does. He told me himself.

I didn't know he was a Scot. Mainwaring's not a Scots name.

Perhaps he was MacMainwaring and he dropped the Mac!

Perhaps it wasn't raining?

Haven't you a comic to read, boy?

I've asked him and the unit to come over to pipe in the haggis.

It's been years!

-Precisely. Lay it on, will you?

-Yes, sir. Captain Mainwaring will pipe in the haggis.

-KNOCKING

-Come in.

-The men are outside, sir, and waiting for you in rows.

-I presume you mean in ranks?

Yes, of course, sir. Sorry.

-How are they?

-Well. All pleased to be back to normal, with you in command again.

-Naturally.

-I should think Frazer's learned his lesson, don't you?

-I hope we all have.

Platoon! Platoon, 'shun!

Stand at ease!

Well, now we're back to normal,

I'm sure you'd like me to thank Private Frazer for his efforts.

He knows the problems, and will be glad to be a squaddy again.

-Haud on, sir...

-No talking in the ranks.

-< Sir!

I'd say he made a good job of it, considering.

I'd like to second that!

And I would like to unsecond it.

Still, Captain Mainwaring's better.

-Yes, in some ways. Yes.

-Captain Mainwaring is a gentleman.

-But you knew where you stood...

-All right, all right! Settle down!

Anyway, it's over now and we've all benefited from the experience.

Now, out of the blue, I've had an invitation from Major-General Men-zies...

-Sir! 'Mingus'!

-What's that, Frazer?

WE pronounce it 'Mingus', sir.

Do you (?) ..from Major-General Men-zies,

to partake in the ceremonial piping-in of the haggis.

You'll agree it's a great honour to partake in so ancient a ritual.

-That was because the General...

-Silence in the ranks!

-Very well, sir.

Now...

-I want a good turn-out. All eyes will be on us.

-Aye, but, sir...

-For the last time, Frazer, stop talking!

-Very well, sir. Upon your own head be it.

KNOCKING Come in.

Escort party outside, sir. Good. Show them in. Sir.

You may go in now, sir.

-Evening, Mainwaring.

-Good evening, sir.

Sorry we're late. Transport fault. I hope the General will forgive us.

Unfortunately, he's at the War Office, but he wants the piping to go on.

I'll join the others now you're here. The sergeant will brief you.

-By the way, caps on, of course.

-Sir. Caps on!

Now then, first... we need a bearer for this.

-Yes...

-Permission to speak, sir?

-Yes?

-I should like to bear that.

I'd enjoy bearing it. I'd also consider it an honour, as well as...also.

-It should be a sergeant, sir.

-Of course it should.

-You take it, Wilson.

-Yes, I will. I'd LOVE to. How kind!

-We need two men on the doors.

-Frazer! Walker!

-Quickly!

-The escort goes two abreast behind. Move!

Move! Come along!

-Twice round the table, then present the haggis. Is that clear?

-Yes.

-Good.

I go in, and when they're ready, I rap three times.

Then the escort party advance with the haggis. Is that clear?

-Yes, thank you.

-Very good, sir.

-Everybody?

-Is this the way to do it?

-No, no, arms...

Here you are, sir.

-Your pipes.

-Ah, good. I take it the Colonel will play.

-No. You are.

-I am?

-Of course. That's why you're here, isn't it?

NOW, can I speak? It was ME the General invited. ME. Because of how I handled the platoon.

-Indeed?

-Indeed. So now you're sunk.

All you can do is let me go in at the head of MY platoon playing the pipes,

and let me take the credit I deserve. KNOCKING

There go the knocks. They're sounding your doom. Nemesis has struck.

Get back in your place, Private Frazer.

Man, oh, man, you're a bigger fool than I thought.

Are you absolutely sure you're doing the right thing, sir?

-I spent my honeymoon at a place called Invergeikie.

-Oh.

-'Tis a wild and lonely place, you understand?

-Yes.

The nights were long...

and there was nothing else to do.

MUSIC "A Man's A Man For A' That"

I never doubted you could do it, sir! Not for a moment! God forgive me.