Passchendaele

This film contains violent, graphic scenes and strong language.

MAN WHISTLES

GUNFIRE

-Everybody good?

-Yeah.

-Oh, Jesus!

-Jesus! Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!

-Hey! Hey! Hey!

Keep your head down. Look at me. Look at me.

You're going to be OK.

Where's he from?

13th skirt.

I thought the Black Watch were up around Hill 60 or somewhere.

-What the hell's he doing here?

-Must've lost his head.

Must've lost his head...

-They in there, Sarge?

-They would seem to be.

Who the hell would put a gun nest in a church?

Up round "Wipers" they put one in a bar. Think about that.

All right, listen up.

Highway, you and Skinner, you work your way up that side.

Peters, you come with me. We cover. We lead.

Everybody ready?

OK.

Let's go.

Skinner! Drag him out of there!

God damn it! Stay here.

Keep your head down.

No, please don't. No...

You're going to be all right, Highway.

You're going to be fine, Skinner. Give me your dressing.

-Ah, Sarge.

-Stay down!

Get your head down!

My foot...

-This is kind of funny, eh?

-For God's sake, Skinner...

Momma, Momma.

You're going to be OK.

I'm going to get you out of here.

HE SPEAKS GERMAN

Leave your rifle. Get in behind me.

-I'm going home.

-What the hell are you doing?

-Halt!

Get your hands up!

Wait! He's not doing anything. He's just clearing his pack.

GERMAN SOLDIERS SPEAK

No, no! Wait! Wait! Kamerad!

-Kamerad!

-I'm going home!

-No!

EXPLOSION

Kamerad?

Let's go, double line!

Bombers over here, gunners on the flanks!

Hey, we got a live one here!

-Where's Highway?

-He went that way.

Sh... It's all right now.

You're all right now, Sergeant.

You're back home. You're safe.

You know, they have these birds of prey over there.

They call them kestrels.

And every time I look at you it's like I've got one

banging around right in here.

You're a patient, Sergeant. It's a common feeling.

Not to me, it isn't.

I don't even know your first name.

I'm not allowed to tell you that.

I know.

You should go back to sleep.

I don't sleep.

Then how can you have these nightmares?

I don't know.

Good night, Sergeant.

Good night, Kestrel.

What?

I think I should take this opportunity

to underscore the elusive relationship

between desire and social order.

You're crazy, aren't you?

Crazy for you.

What?

David? David?

-It's McKinnon.

-Yeah, yeah.

HE GASPS

Oh, no! No, David.

-It's OK.

-David? David?

-Just breathe.

-You in yet?

David?

Are you OK? Let's go.

Hello, there, Mr Harper.

-Hello?

-We're in here.

-David?

-Mr McKinnon.

You didn't show up for work this morning. That's the third time this month.

Sarah, here, tells me you had an attack...

of your asthma things.

That's the truth, sir. I did.

But now you're all right?

I went down to the river. Sometimes the humidity helps.

Humidity. Good one. That's good.

I don't know how to put this,

but this job, I know it's only a local newspaper

and I know it's not going to change the outcome of the war or anything,

but it's a good job, and your father...

Well, you both understand

that I'm doing this for your father, don't you?

Well, I'll just see myself out.

I expect to see you in the morning.

I can't keep lying for you.

I'm not asking you to.

Were you with Cassie?

What if I was?

Friends don't get friends in trouble, David.

What would you know about friends?

All you've got is me and you don't even like me.

Why do you talk like that?

If there's anyone that doesn't like you, it's you, not me.

Is that supposed to pass for insight?

By the way, her dad hates me, too.

-Good evening.

-Good evening, George.

Still no news?

Still missing in action.

It's not easy, I can tell you that much.

But I'm the Mayor. I can't be seen to falter.

And our son has a good head on his shoulders, so we remain hopeful.

Are you crazy?

I'm here to talk to your father.

Oh, hello. This is your friend.

-David, isn't it?

-Yes, sir.

I wonder if I could have a word with you.

By all means. Come on in.

No, sir... I don't want to intrude.

Don't be silly. Come on.

Hello, everybody.

I'd like to introduce you to David, uh...

-Good Lord, I've forgotten your last name.

-It's Mann, sir.

-David Mann.

-Very honoured to meet you.

It appears that young David

has conceived of a passion for my daughter.

-Daddy, please!

-A passion, is it?

-Well, then I'd be guessing you'd still be a student.

-And you'd be wide of the mark.

David counts himself among the ranks of the working men.

I work for a newspaper.

But he's not a scribe. He sets type.

-He's a typesetter.

-Phillip!

But you must be 18 years old and you're not in uniform.

Why is that?

It's a medical thing, sir. He's doing what he can.

Yes, well, he'll have to do better than that

if he wants to earn the respect of your father.

That's what I intend to do, sir, and I'm open to suggestions.

For God's sake, son. We're at war. Use your imagination.

I'm sorry.

I don't know, I'm not sure what I'm supposed to say.

There's no formula here, Sergeant. We're just talking.

You, uh, want to tell me about your nightmares?

They consistently feature the image of a Canadian soldier and a cross.

Why is that, you imagine?

I don't sleep, so I don't really know how to answer that.

In 1915, in retreat outside Ypres,

German soldiers nailed a Canadian NCO to a barn door.

You were there, were you not?

Yes, sir, I did take part in that retreat but...

if they had time to stop and nail a guy to a door,

they're even better than I already know them to be.

Are you saying it didn't happen?

I'm saying artillery throws soldiers into positions you can't even imagine.

A man in a trench...

he's going to see what he needs to see.

Michael, you are a decorated soldier.

Yeah. Yeah, I am.

And I received that medal for sticking a 17-inch piece of steel into a boy's forehead.

As soon as you were well enough to walk, you went AWOL.

I went AWOL because I received a medal for sticking a piece of steel into a boy's forehead!

-This is insubordinate.

-Understand your situation here, Sergeant.

We are trying to determine your status of discharge.

Your physical wounds have, for the most part, healed.

Dr Walker would like to give you a clean bill of health,

in which case you'd be sent back to the battlefield,

stand trial for desertion and more than likely be executed.

I'm going to end up back there one way or another.

-Michael, I'm trying to save your life.

-I know that.

And I appreciate it, I do, but this...

Go on.

The house we grew up in...

..it was at the bottom of this hill,

and every time one of my brothers, uh...

-Died?

-Yeah.

The telegraph guy, he'd bring the notification down the hill

and my mother never got any other news.

After all, three of my younger brothers one, two, three

and then me - AWOL...

And they don't say "Absent Without Leave",

they say "Missing In Action", which to her meant I was dead.

So when that telegraph guy came down the fourth time, it broke her heart.

She...she died of a broken heart.

Nurse Mann, would you please escort the sergeant back to the ward.

Major Nigel Bernard, Canadian Army Medical Corps,

re: patient T3-31, Sergeant Michael Dunne.

Physically, the patient nears repair.

Diagnosis remains, however, neurasthenia,

Dr Walker's dissent noted.

In light of his service record, the recommendation

is that the soldier be reassigned to the home front,

possibly in recruitment, in support of our ongoing effort.

I came to wish you luck.

It's not likely I'll see you again, is it?

I don't want to leave.

No, that's... That's not accurate.

I don't want to leave you.

I'm not what you think I am.

You don't know what I think you are.

You talk in your sleep.

I don't sleep. How can I talk?

You don't even know my first name.

No, I don't. No.

And that's a hell of a thing, that is.

Goodbye, Nurse Mann.

Bye.

It's Sarah.

-What?

-Her name is Sarah.

Thanks.

Rigor, Sergeant. Rigor is our shibboleth.

No slight intended to my immediate predecessor,

but the sails on this ship are slack.

The home front is awash in saboteurs and provocateurs.

Odd those words sound French, what? Allies and all.

Be that as it may, our immediate concern is recruitment.

Minimum age - 18.

Infantry, Service and Medical Corps.

Minimum height - five foot three inches,

chest - 33 and one half inches.

Gunners... Carmichael, remove this.

Ah, yes, sir!

Capital asset, Carmichael.

Gunners, minimum height - five foot seven inches,

chest - 34 and one half inches, give or take, you understand.

Preference given to unmarried men.

The blind and the deaf are to be avoided,

and asthmatics are strictly ne touche pas,

given the problems associated with gas.

And on that note, may I say, in confidence...

I have seen acts of depravity, Dunne.

Kroonstad. Human depravity. But gas?

Even the Boer would not sink so low.

We use gas, sir.

Of course, we do.

Cut from the same cloth, you and I.

A rarefying experience, combat.

Something Carmichael will never encounter.

Blind as a bat, feet like a fried egg.

-Isn't that right, Carmichael?

-More than right, sir.

You saw action in South Africa, sir?

I've studied your dossier, Sergeant.

But you can rest easy.

I have my eye on you.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you

a Distinguished Conduct Medal winner,

a proud member of Calgary's own 10th Battalion,

Second Brigade, First Canadian Division.

Please rise for Sergeant Michael Dunne!

I thought he'd be bigger.

-In what sense?

-In the sense that he'd be bigger.

-Please, please.

You're embarrassing the good sergeant.

Would all of those women who are present please resume your seats?

Thank you.

And all those men too old to serve, would you also resume your seats?

And all the boys who are not yet of age to serve,

would you take your seats as well?

And now, I ask you to look at the men who stand amongst you...

..and explain to Sergeant Dunne

why they are not doing their part for their King,

their country and their God!

Kamerad.

Eyes wide open.

Next.

Name?

David Mann.

What's your marital status, David?

-Single.

-And you're of legal age?

-Look, I applied before.

-Yeah, I see that.

According to this, you were rejected because you have asthma.

Do you now have medical clearance on that asthma?

I wouldn't be here, would I?

And this isn't Germany.

I don't carry documents with me.

You're in uniform, but you aren't at the front.

-Do you have anything to document that?

-As a matter of fact, I do.

They diagnosed me as neurasthenic, which means "shell shock",

which means I'm mentally incompetent, and this is the paper that proves it.

Haven't you ever heard of patriotism?

Do you have a relative who's a nurse?

-A sister or something? And you live out on Stewart Avenue?

-Maybe.

OK, as long as I'm sitting at this desk,

you will not be going to this war.

Next.

Name.

How's it feel, war hero?

You only got one arm.

Sad, ain't it?

How 'bout we get drunk?

Mikey, Mikey, Mikey!

Forget about the nurse!

There's a gaggle of women, all free and clear,

ready and willing to hike up their skirts.

-You want to know why?

-Cos you give them money.

No, because I let them know

they're in the presence of a real life war hero.

-When did you become a war hero?

-When I lost my arm.

You lost your arm in a lumber mill.

Which the ladies don't know, which is what I love about this war.

Got a postcard from Highway.

Seems like the Redskin's back on his feet,

and by the sounds of it, he's cutting a swath right through London.

-That's what I hear.

-Hey, John.

-Michael Dunne.

Lord God, it's good to see you in one piece.

-Oh, more or less.

-On the house, my friend. Your call.

I'll have whatever you got underneath the counter.

I'll be back in a second.

Hey, Royster. To Dunne.

Well, well, well...

You two are so... Jesus-ly rhetorical.

This man who just left,

this man would not allow me to serve, and why?

He's been over there. He's run Fritz through with a bayonet.

-Johnny, what's this kid doing in here?

-Time to go, son.

-Do I smell Kraut?

-You calling me a Kraut, boy?

-You calling me a boy, Kraut?

-I'm just a one-armed man.

What are you trying to do here, kid?

Mister, I'm just trying to save my soul...

Hey, leave the boy alone!

Let it go, Roy.

What, are you nuts?

He would have killed you. You know that?

You come with me.

Thank you for bringing him home.

You don't have to thank me.

It's, uh, a good excuse to see you again.

-Well, thank you anyway.

-OK.

Hey...

..do you think maybe I could accompany you to a dance or...

I don't dance with soldiers.

I could lose the uniform.

I don't dance with naked soldiers.

I'm trying to flirt.

-And I'm not making it easy, am I?

-No.

What if I asked your father for permission?

That would be difficult.

He doesn't like suitors?

No. My father's dead, Sergeant.

He was killed on Vimy Ridge.

Ah, Jesus.

I'm sorry.

I'm really sorry.

-Good night.

-Good night.

Ah, Christ, that's harsh.

-Lot of rum over there, I guess.

-Yeah, but they water it down.

-Plentiful though, no?

-If there's a show on.

-Battle, you mean?

-Mm-hm.

Christ, that word's got a ring.

It's like...

It must be like top of the world.

And all the shit these Krauts get up to!

They crucified one of our guys, for God's sake!

That never happened.

-Still.

-No, it's a good story. It just never happened.

-Still...

You know...

I follow it.

Lot of people, they take it, leave it. But me?

Every day come five o'clock I got a paper in my hand,

nose right to the print.

Every step you two take, you and Highway,

I'm right there with it.

And it ain't just the liquor talking, but I am.

-You're what?

-OK, Mikey.

-I am.

-OK, you're what?

Proud. I'm proud of you.

And I'll tell you something else - if I didn't have this stump,

I'd be right there between you and Highway on the firing step,

right in the middle of it.

That'd be me.

SNORING

I know you don't dance with soldiers,

but do you think maybe you could go ride with one?

Did you carve this?

No. No, it was whiskey carved that.

I ran a mining camp up near Rocky Mountain House.

The gold ran dry about the same time the war started up, so...

I figured I'd go sign up and... go get killed.

Can I ask you something, Sergeant?

Do you think maybe you could call me, uh, you could call me Michael?

-Were you at Vimy Ridge?

-I did attend that fight, yeah.

What was it like?

It was cold.

But we took that ridge and we held it.

Nobody else did that.

The British couldn't do it, the French couldn't do it.

It was just us, the Canadian Corps.

You should be proud of your father.

I am.

And it's not common, by the way.

What isn't?

This feeling.

Would you do something for me?

I think I'd do just about anything for you.

Tell me about this.

Paint me a picture of it.

I'm not a painter.

I'm not all that particular.

OK.

Um...

In this picture, there is a river and, there's a horse,

and there's a man sitting that horse,

and together they ford that river.

And all these things are in the foothills.

And the man rides to a place

he thought he knew like the back of his hand.

There's something about this day that's different.

Why this day?

There's a woman with him.

Is this woman frightened?

You'd have to ask her.

What about him?

Well, see, that's the thing.

He doesn't have a word for this, for what he feels.

All day long he searches for it,

and it's not till he's sitting next to the woman,

-and they're looking over a river, he can finally put a name to it.

-You should stop.

In a heartbeat, I could fall so hard...

..but I'm-I'm not...

..I'm broken...somewhere.

Quite broken.

So, I'd start to think you were stupid for loving me.

Then I'd begin to resent you, and eventually, I would hate you.

-I should go.

-Really, I'd... I really rather you didn't.

I know.

I'm, uh...

I'm just going to going to sit here for a bit.

You can keep that horse.

'The soldier in the modern battlefield

'is beset with many challenges,'

most notably artillery.

Tissue damage results from shell fragments,

which are irregular in shape.

Wounds are therefore jagged or, at best, unpredictable.

In the soft parts,

wounds show deep and extensive attritions

and are marked by extensive effusion of blood and/or serum.

Invariably, shell fragments will introduce...

"..foreign matter into the wound, making infection inevitable."

Your father wrote this?! Jesus.

Pretty scary, eh?

-Are you scared?

-No. Are you?

-No.

Do you want to introduce some foreign matter into me?

Why should we wait?

'Contused wounds are vast erosions,

'large lesions forming a cul-de-sac...

'They are abrasions with torn surfaces

'and quivering and herniated muscles.'

They are doomed to suppuration

and are threatened by grave complications

such as gangrene and tetanus.

In summary, artillery shells

'will splinter,

'amputate, decapitate, bisect,

'quarter, or otherwise grossly mutilate

'the human frame. In the worst of cases,'

a direct explosion will obliterate the man.

The soldier will simply disappear. Thank you.

-Sergeant, you have anything to add to this subject?

-No.

No, that's pretty much what it does.

So you agree artillery represents the greatest challenge to an individual on the battlefield?

Sergeant, do you agree?

No, sir. I'm sorry, I don't. Um...

The single greatest challenge to an individual on the battlefield

is trying to keep his matches dry.

"Keep your matches dry?"

One of the wittier phrases Dr Walker singles out as having

turned his lecture into a farce.

Sir, I didn't mean.

-Did I give you permission to speak?

-No, sir, you did not.

-These are the drawings of your machine?

-They are.

-You had a diagnosis, did you not?

-Yes, sir. Neurasthenia.

And I think, we both know what that means.

Your draftsmanship is impressive.

You're holding them upside down.

So I am!

I'm not saying that you're a coward, Sergeant.

I'm simply saying that I have been keeping a very close eye on you,

and what I see disturbs me.

You'll notice I've left out certain mechanical secrets

that can only be revealed upon payment of one million dollars.

A lovely round figure.

And what exactly will this invention of yours accomplish?

-It will bring the war to an end in 48 hours.

-Delightful.

And how exactly will it achieve that?

With this machine,

an individual can circle the globe in exactly 15 minutes.

Sparkling! We'll be in touch.

Thank you. Thank you...

No, I thank you!

-Thank you, very much.

-No! Thank you!

The very ground we are standing on is shifting.

Civilization hangs in the balance so I offer a word of warning -

do not plough a foreign field.

Sir, I'm sorry, but I just don't see what this has to do with dry matches.

For God's sake, man!

We are talking about our nation's security,

which means we are talking about a certain lady named Sarah Mann,

on whose attendance, I am reliably informed, you have been dancing.

More specifically, we are talking about her father.

Her father was a soldier who fought on the same ridge I did.

The only difference I'm aware of is that he died and I didn't.

The only difference you're aware of?

Carmichael!

"Martin Mann was born in Ingolstadt, Bavaria.

"He returned to his native land in 1915,

"and was assigned to the Second Bavarian Reserve Regiment."

He fought for the enemy.

The blood is tainted, Sergeant.

Ottawa mandates that we must root out the Hun in sheep's clothing,

and root him out we will.

Like a pig.

-With regret our mandate is uncompromising.

-You regret nothing.

I don't expect a woman to comprehend this,

but our country is rife with saboteurs.

When did nursing wounded soldiers become a threat to the homeland?

If I'm so dangerous, why don't you lock me up?

At the moment internment is not under consideration.

Listen to him! Listen to the sound of his voice!

How long has he been living in this country?

My duration of residency is hardly the point.

-I've lived here my entire life! I'm a Canadian!

-Technically, yes.

But here's the sticky wicket.

Whereas I was born under the sun of the British Empire,

you, Miss Mann, were born under the cloud of Germany.

We could move. Start over. Or I could try to find another job.

Doing what?

I don't know. Cleaning maybe?

Cleaning... This is our home.

These are our neighbours.

You can't hate a dead man, David.

And where is that writ, oh, sister of mine?

Don't talk like that. You sound ridiculous.

I don't hate our father. He shames me.

There's a difference.

If I could kill him, I would.

He can only be killed once.

Well, I'm not just going to sit here.

-Where are you going?

-What does it matter?

-Sarah?

-I'm in here.

Where's your brother?

I don't know. He may have gone to Cassie's.

Or maybe our mother's grave. He does that quite often.

I'll take that horse and go find him.

I don't think you should stay here.

I want you to go to my place.

Why are you doing this?

Cos I fought on the same ridge your father died on.

It might have been me that killed him.

I know it probably wasn't, but it might have been.

Use that door. It's 213 Stephen Avenue.

-I'll come find you.

-Thank you.

You mind if I have a word with you?

My nose...

Schmidt! Dead German!

Lutz! Dead German!

"Mutti... Ich liebe dich."

Will you stop that now?

Ah, come on, kid. Don't make me chase you.

God damn it!

Yah! Yah!

Nyah!

Oh, shit!

-Idiot! The hell's wrong with you?

-Why don't you just kill me?

I don't want to kill you, I just want to talk to you.

You should have signed me up!

Oh, God, you want to go to war that badly?

Where do you think I already am?

Jesus! Look around you!

Everything you can see, everything you can imagine,

the entire god damned universe is at war!

And if that ever stopped, oh boy, that would be the end of history!

I don't know what you're talking about.

All I know is that you got to draw a line somewhere.

And I draw the line at my father.

-You think it's that simple?

-You don't?

-No.

No, I don't.

Lines are tricky...

There's so god damned many of them.

There's front line, sap line, behind the line,

lines you don't even know about,

lines you can't see till you cross them.

But once you do, you're not fit. You understand?

You're not fit for this world.

You live over there. You got men underneath you.

What the hell am I doing?

Christ didn't die for our sins.

He just laid down the template, that's all.

-I don't understand you.

-If I have my way, you never will.

You're looking for romance, kid.

You're not going to find it in a trench. Get up.

I'm going to go find that horse.

-Sergeant.

-Hi.

-Hi.

I found your brother, and he's going to stay with a friend of mine,

I'm just on the corner.

Uh, you can have the bed. It hasn't been slept in.

This could get a little rocky.

You saw the morphine.

When I was 23, I robbed a bank in Fort McLeod.

-I don't do it every day.

-I don't rob banks every day.

After my father left, um, I had trouble sleeping.

And there was this ready supply at the hospital.

I can't explain it.

You don't have to.

I've tried everything I can to do my part but...

But you were frustrated.

No, I understand that.

And I commend you, son. I commend your selflessness.

It would seem my daughter has indeed picked herself a fine young man.

Present this letter to the recruiting officer and your way should be clear.

And with that, you have my blessing on your union.

Oh, Daddy!

It tore my father in half,

this war. It just made our lives...

impossible.

So, I forced him to make a decision.

It was them or us.

I really didn't think he'd leave,

or that I was sending him to be killed.

Which seems to be killing my brother.

All this. For what?

I killed a kid. I killed a lot of men,

but I killed this one kid.

He had these blue eyes.

They were like water.

And I didn't have to kill him. I wasn't scared or...

I just killed him.

I'm going to have to answer for that...

..one way or another.

Congratulations, son!

-You've proven yourself a true patriot.

-Excuse me, sir.

But I can't imagine Sergeant Dunne rejecting a candidate without cause.

And this form identifies the cause as asthma.

Do you have asthma, son?

-Not me, sir.

-There you have it. Fit as a fiddle.

-But sir...

-Shut up, Carmichael!

In your encounters with Sergeant Dunne

he bore no signs of ill health, did he?

And yet he is not in the field.

Why is that, do you imagine?

He told me he had neurasthenia.

The military is a curious and beautiful beast.

Neurasthenia is our way of saying that Sergeant Dunne is a coward.

I've always thought that, way down, somewhere,

it was all about sacrifice.

Why? I don't know. And now there's you.

If I asked you, would you kiss me?

Ask me.

There's only one rule...

..don't die.

-What are you doing?

-I'm going.

-Where?

-Where do you think?

-Oh, God, David! Please don't. No. No.

-I won't have this. You're a boy.

-I'm not a boy!

-You have asthma!

-I'm not a cripple!

-God, they can't let you...

David, please, talk to Sergeant Dunne. He'll tell you not to go.

-Really?

-Yes, he would explain to them, they would let you out.

What makes you think they'd listen to him?

You think he's some kind of hero?

Is he missing an arm? A leg? Is he blind?

-Why isn't he still over there?

-I don't know.

He's got neurasthenia! You know what that means in the army?

-It means the man's a coward.

-No. No, he's not!

-No, he's not?

Who do you think signed me up?

He's the reason I'm going to war.

(WHISPERS) Oh, my God...

Gentlemen, I'm honoured to have you in my home to observe this solemn

and hopeful occasion.

-I turn it over to you, Major.

-Gentlemen...

The eastbound train carries our valiant youth

on the long road to glory.

-May God go with them. To the boys.

-ALL: To the boys!

-To the men.

-ALL: To the men!

Hear-hear.

This is how you raise an army?

You rake the very bottom and find the weak, the young, the sick

and you send them?

My brother is just a boy! He's not well. He's not fit!

Why do you want him?

Oh, you have nothing to say? Nothing at all?

This isn't out of the blue, Sergeant.

I'm not out of the blue.

I'm right here, right now and I'm asking you -

who will be there to watch over my brother?

You know, you can take any one of them -

artillery, gas, wire, rain, rats, the fucking bayonet...

Not one of these can you control.

The matches you can control.

You can have some effect upon them.

If you're in the middle of a barrage,

and you think a smoke might steady you up,

and you reach for those matches and they're wet...

well, sir, your whole world buckles.

It feels like it's coming apart at the seams.

And that's not farce.

That is not farce.

I need you to sign this.

McRae?

It's my mother's maiden name.

I'm going back and you're going to assign me to the Fighting 10th.

You're going to try and protect that boy?

You really are neurasthenic, aren't you?

Cut from the same cloth, you and I.

You know I'll track you down.

Be my guest.

Miss Mann?

Come in.

Oh, hello, Cassie.

How could anyone do this?

-I don't know.

-Why are you packing?

I can't find a job, so I can't afford the upkeep.

I could talk to my father.

I mean, you're almost family.

How is that, do you imagine?

-You haven't heard from David?

-No.

I haven't heard from him either,

which is strange, considering we're engaged.

-You're engaged?

-That's the whole reason he joined up.

Cos my father has his ways and David had to prove himself.

Is that why Dunne signed him up?

You mean that Sergeant? God, no. He had nothing to do with it.

I don't understand.

He wasn't going to sign David up come hell or high water.

I had to get my father to write this medical thing saying...

-So, it wasn't Sergeant Dunne?

-No.

It was the other one. The British one.

Oh, my God!

I'm sorry, I...I don't...

What have you done?

-What do you mean?

-Your father doesn't want David to come home.

He wants him to stay over there

with a white cross to mark his spot for the rest of time.

What are you saying?

'Dearest Sarah, I'm not sure if you'll get this.

'I don't know if I'm all that good at painting these pictures,

'but I am trying.

'In this picture there is a river and there is a horse

'and there is a man sitting that horse,

'and all these things are in the Foothills.

'And when this man closes his eyes he can see a woman kissing him

'as like as to smother him.

'And this man knows that kings may die

'and countries may crumble,

'but if people look close enough,

'they just might, as I have, Sarah,

'they just might find something to believe in.

'I have to go now, but before I do,

'remember that rule - don't die.'

Hyah!

Go on. Hyah! Hyah!

Let him go! Let him go!

OK, sound off!

What's in the bag, Lieutenant?

In a minute. Sound off!

Highway.

-Gale.

-Golding.

-Hitchel.

-Hart.

-Miles.

Johnson.

-Mann.

-McRae.

Here we go! A little gift from the CO.

A Last Supper kind of thing.

Let's get yourselves together, gentlemen!

Get that bird plucked. I need to check in with HQ

-Nice form. Had practise with that?

-Just around the house.

You want me to give you a hand with that?

For the last god damned time - I don't need your help.

Hey, MPs.

-The RSM's with them.

-Form up!

McRae!

HQ.

Private McRae, sir.

Last time I met you, your name was Michael Dunne.

April 22nd, Kitchener's Wood.

820 men went in. 174 came out.

Lieutenant Hanson, Second Field Artillery.

Immediate response.

We were getting mauled, Major Bingham.

Dunne here had a bullet in his thigh.

Crawled across a field of corpses to get us support.

Should have been a VC.

Unacceptable. I want a "yes" within an hour.

-Mr Watchman.

-Sir.

You mind having that conversation with Lieutenant Maxwell?

Outside, if you could?

Yes, sir.

Major, you want to step forward?

Turns out you falsified some records.

Somewhat aggressively, according to Dobson-Hughes, here.

And he wants your head, so...what do I do?

-You have to turn him in, Colonel.

-I wasn't asking you, Major.

What do I do with you, Dunne?

I suppose he's right, sir.

All right, then. That's what I'll do.

But I'm not going to turn you in to the military police.

I'm going to turn you into a platoon leader.

And you will hold your tongue, Major.

Maxwell will come back to HQ with us, and Dunne...

you're going to take over Number 2 platoon.

This party we call Passchendaele

started three months ago, but it's been raining ever since,

so the battlefield's like a bowl of stew.

And the whole thing's stalled, so the job of breaking out

falls to the only outfit in this entire circus

that seems capable of getting anything done, and that's us -

the Canadian Corps.

You know they got a name for us? The enemy?

They call us "storm troopers." Major Bingham?

The assault has two thrusts.

On the right, brigades from 2nd Division

will clear the village of Passchendaele.

On the left, the Little Black Devils

and the 7th Battalion, with us in support,

will attack along the Mosselmarkt-Meetcheele Road.

This is the assault front. this is our support line.

and this is battalion headquarters. And we have three objectives -

Venture Farm,

Vindictive Crossroads

and Hill 52. That's where we stop and dig in.

There are your battle orders.

You got any questions?

No, sir.

Well, I got one.

You were free and clear of this freak show.

Why'd you come back?

For love, sir.

That's a sorry bastard reason.

Good luck, Dunne.

With respect, sir,

I feel compelled to lodge a formal complaint!

This is no time for personal vendettas, Major.

In case you haven't noticed, we're neck deep in hell

and Currie's projecting 16,000 casualties.

The General's never wrong, so I need soldiers.

Now I'm not sure I count you as one.

But I'm going to keep you close. It might improve your chances.

I bow to your superior judgment, sir.

Not sure what I should say to the men.

-You know, sir, I didn't ask for this.

-I know.

It's funny, though. You come all this way...

You got a light?

We need a stretcher bearer here!

-I need a doctor!

-We all need a doctor.

Here. Put him down here, soldier.

Oh, my God.

We have to take his jacket off.

What are you doing here?

It's what I'm good at. And where else was I going to go?

Anywhere but here, Sarah. Jesus.

-I volunteered out of Regina.

-How?

-Royster helped me.

-How'd you get here?

-It took me a month to catch up to you.

It's OK. You'll be fine.

-How's David?

-He's OK. He's with me. We're keeping our heads down.

Oh, God.

They're going to make you leave.

My shift is over soon.

OK. Piccadilly and King's Cross. I'll meet you there.

You can go now, soldier.

Clear the truck! We've got enough for everyone here!

WAILING

GROANS

Make way! Coming through!

-Fall in!

-Yes, sir!

-Are you worried?

-Yeah.

Don't be. We're just a support company.

We won't even see action.

What about David?

If I could get you to him I would, it's not safe past here.

But I promise you this, I will bring your brother home.

Look what I made you come back to!

It wasn't you, Sarah.

I was going to end up back here one way or another.

-DISTANT:

-All companies A through F, battle muster, we're heading in!

-Men, fall in!

I have to go.

Can you give this to David?

And remember the rule.

You're going to see me again.

-All right, this is it.

-This is what?

-This is our trench.

-Where?

-Right here.

-Here?

String out. Two to a crater, let's go!

-Shit. You got any matches?

-I gave them all to you.

-What?

-I gave them all to you.

-Yeah, but don't you have a reserve?

Well, they're reserve matches.

-Those will do.

-OK.

Uh, they're wet too, though.

I just don't understand you can say you don't like Sudbury

when you've never even been there.

I don't have to go there. I'm a Skin. Skins just know.

Fuck you and the stolen horse you rode in on.

PLAYS HARMONICA

-SQUEAKING

-Oh! God damn it!

Fuck!

-This is insane!

-Yeah.

It's what you signed up for.

No...sir. Wrong. I signed up to kill Germans.

No, you didn't. You signed up to kill your father.

Hey, I've been carrying this around since Calgary.

Your sister wanted me to give it to you.

What the hell's wrong with me?

I haven't even written her.

And my own sister?

What if something happened to me? How would I atone for that?

If that's what you're looking for,

you've really come to the wrong place.

How can you say that?

Come on, David. Look around you. You see any poets in this shit?

We're all in a slaughter yard

and there isn't a single guy here who knows why.

No. No. You wouldn't be here if you believed that.

I'm only here because of your sister.

Listen to me.

Forests burn cos they have to.

And oceans, they go up and down cos they have to.

I don't think we're that different.

If you want to get through this, you've got to start seeing it for what it is -

it's something we do all the time cos we're good at it.

And we're good at it cos we're used to it.

And we're used to it cos we do it all the time.

You better hang on to something.

The guns are coming.

-Everyone synchronized?

-ALL: Yes, sir.

Our assault starts...now.

EXPLOSIONS Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Fire!

Bore 800!

-Come on! Come on!

-Bore 800!

Bore 800!

-Fire!

-Fire!

Forward posts reporting.

7th and Devils in No Man's Land, sir.

Fifty yards, light resistance.

German counter-fire reported, sir.

Get me Divisional Headquarters.

I want to know if they've heard anything further...

-Make sure the lines are OK.

-Is everyone all right?

Light? Somebody bring me a light.

Look at all this fucking mud, eh!

We got a real problem.

-No matches?

-Oui.

-How does it look, you think? Are we going in?

-I don't know.

It's too early to tell.

Keep your head down, kid.

Oh, shit. Fuck.

GASPS

-Field dressing!

-Fire crew!

-Mr Watchman.

-Where's the fire crew!

-Stretcher!

-One second, sir.

Dobson-Hughes, you're acting 2IC.

Eyes here. Eyes here!

Come here. It's all right. It's all right. You're OK.

Objectives consolidated, both flanks.

Field of fire 200 yards.

Venture and Vindictive have fallen.

So far, so good.

So far, so good?

So far, so good, yeah?

We'll get you out of here soon.

You're OK. OK.

-You're all right.

-Yeah.

OK.

Flare sighted, SOS.

Devil's left flank under counter-attack, sir.

Get me 8th Battalion.

Line's down, sir.

-Something's wrong.

-What?

Second flare sighted. Left flank, 8th.

3rd SOS flare sighted, left flank.

The 8th is taking a beating, sir.

-Is your company ready?

-Yes, sir.

All right, Major. In you go. Give 'em hell.

There's a runner headed this way.

Shit. All right, this is it, boys!

We're going in! Check your gear!

You don't need this,

and you don't need this,

and you don't need this coat.

Where are you going?

Don't leave me. Jesus, please, don't leave me.

It's OK. I'm right here.

The Devils are being hammered, sir. There's a crack in the line.

Reload! God damn it!

Where's the fucking relief?

If you can get past the mud, the country's quite beautiful, no?

Would you kindly shut up?

-Hey, is that a hawk?

-No, it's a kestrel.

-What the hell's a kestrel?

-It's a hawk.

We need some relief!

Aaah!

-Incoming!

-Here comes the relief!

-It's here!

Relief's here!

It's coming, boy! It's coming!

Company commander. Where is he?

Dead. All dead. Everyone with a stripe is down.

-Where the hell are you going?

-I've had the shit kicked out of me for eight straight hours, sir!

-You will not leave this position!

-Sorry.

-Hey!

-Hey! Hey! Come on!

You can't leave us strung out here! You're 800. We're just a company. 60 guys.

-You want me to stay, you're going to have to shoot me.

-Beat it!

Where are you going?

-What the hell's going on?

-Don't leave!

Get back here!

HQ. Little Black Devils pulling out.

Situation critical. Stress. Critical.

The Alleymen are regrouping.

-I see them.

-They're going to counterattack.

We don't have enough guys! Fuck!

We got what we got.

Two to a crater!

Horne, Miles, to my right! Lewis gunners on the flanks!

-Let's move.

-Go! Go!

Two down there.

-Get her down. Get her down.

-Let's go!

-Nothing from 'A' Company?

-Still down, sir.

-British Third Brigade is stalled. Fusiliers are being routed.

-Rout them all to hell.

Black Devils have pulled out. Our flank will be open, sir.

-And our whole fucking line will collapse. Follow me. I want to talk to the Devils.

-Yes, sir.

Hey.

Enemy target marker!

Hold it!

That's a second marker!

Hey.

Thanks.

Bring on the hell.

Here come the guns!

-What are you doing?

-My gun's stuck! Fuck!

Horne?

Christ!

Steady! Hold it!

Hold it!

Can't shoot me.

-Too fucking many of them!

-Hold it!

-They're awfully close, Sergeant.

-Steady!

Mon tabernac!

Steady! Steady!

You fuck, fucking, fuckers.

Come on, come on.

Come on, come on.

NOW!

Fuck! Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

They're fucking on top of us!

Hey, we're up! We're up!

Allez, allez, allez!

I sent you a support company - 60 men.

You pulled out a whole fucking battalion? Jesus Christ!

Sir. 60 men? It's impossible.

They'll be overrun. Then we'll be overrun. We have to withdraw!

We don't withdraw a fucking inch!

We don't give ground, we don't lose an objective and we don't give up a single gun!

But, Colonel, if the enemy breaks through, we'll be in danger!

Lieutenant Hanson, you're acting 2IC.

Let's go.

Here we go.

Come on!

God damn it! The whole battalion!

-'When do you want this order for, sir?'

-NOW!

Every last one of them! Get them in there now!

All eyes here! They're piling up out there.

So all personnel not immediately engaged report outside for triage.

Shoot!

God damn it!

Shoot the god damn rifle!

Form up!

Form up! Let's move!

Hold the line! Hold that line!

They're turning. Up and down the line.

Yeah, they'll be back. Load up.

Reload! Reload!

Reload!

-Sound off! Miles?

-Dead.

-Cahill?

-Dead.

-Horne?

-Really dead.

Mann?

David Mann?

David Mann?

-Nein, nein.

-Deutsch?

Nein Deutsch. N-n-n-talk Deutsch.

Artillerie!

Jeez!

What are you doing, Mikey?

-Cover fire!

-Covering fire!

Come on. Come on.

Get your asses moving!

Set him down. Set him down.

You're OK.

You made it. You're OK.

Hey, they're forming up!

-Give me some morphine.

-Don't we get any fucking relief?

Sarge, here.

-You need some water.

-Anybody got ammunition?

-I'm out.

-Spent.

-Ah, here they come again! We need some relief! Damn it!

It's battalion! They're here!

-Here come the relief!

-The whole god damn battalion's here!

Stretcher-bearers! Both these men!

Battalion's in line, sir, and the line is holding.

Objectives are secure.

Aid posts reporting still more wounded en route,

so let's make room for 'em.

We did it, by the way. We took Passchendaele.

Nurse, I need an assessment over there.

He's OK.

David's OK.

Look at you.

Yeah, look at me, all broken up like this.

-I think maybe you're forgetting the rule.

-Mm-hm.

No, I'm just trying to finish that picture.

But I don't think I'm all that good at these pictures, so...

maybe, maybe this man could just write to her?

And will he?

Yes, Sarah. He will.

He'll sit at this little table,

and what he'll write is,

"In this picture, there is a river

"and there is a horse...

"..and there is a man sitting that horse,

"and together, they ford that river."

"And all these things are in the foothills."

I think you're forgetting the rule.

No, I'm going to cross that river.

Michael, don't...

Cos I have you.

Mike.

# After the guns are silent

# After your wounds have healed

# After those crosses

# Have been planted in all those fields

# After that long boat ride

# All the way across the sea

# And after this train

# Carries me

# I will love you

# After the war

# Love you

# For always

# Forever more

# I will love you

# After the war

# Forever

# For always

# And more

# I will love you

# After the war

# I love you

# For always

# Forever more

# I will love you

# After the war

# Forever

# For always

# And more. #

Subtitles by Red Bee Media Ltd