CREDITS
Welcome back to Play Of The Week,
where each week, a new play is performed live in front of
a studio audience here in Cornley and broadcast to the nation.
I am Chris Bean, the director.
This episode is a World War II spy thriller, a play not often performed
due to what critics called "offensive historical inaccuracies,"
caused by the author's "lazy research".
I am delighted to say we will be joined by a special guest star
this evening. My father, Raymond Bean,
has taken the time out of his busy schedule of writing letters
of complaint to The Guardian to play the part of Randolph Wycombe.
He is currently running late, but one of our other actors
has stepped in for the meantime, and we will proceed.
This episode is The Pilot.
Er, it's not the pilot episode, it's an episode about a pilot.
So I suppose it is technically a pilot episode,
though it is not THE pilot episode,
although it is called The Pilot.
So, now everything's clear.
The actors are prepared, the stage is set.
Please enjoy The Pilot.
Not the pilot.
_
Seven.
Four.
Nine.
Test.
Nothing yet, Lieutenant.
Six damn months, Val,
six months working with the most advanced technology available
to man, and we're no closer to cracking the German code.
Are you all right?
It's my leg again.
Damned embarrassing getting shot down in my first flight.
And look what I've got to show for it.
You mustn't worry, Rufus.
I don't care one jot about appearances.
My old kite Dorothy's sat out there on the runway, gathering dust.
I'm stuck here, unable to even walk.
You really ought to take some leave, Lieutenant. I do worry about you.
You do?
Ah, Miss Leclaire.
Bonjour, cheri.
Any luck with the latest transmission?
Et, erm, bibliotheque.
All right.
Beep!
Incoming telegram.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim-vim-vim!
It's from Commander Wycombe.
- Did you get it? - Yes, yes!
He's going to call you directly, Corporal,
he says he wants some answers.
We will crack this code. We just need some more time.
We must steel ourselves.
It is as Monsieur Napoleon said.
La mort n'est rien,
mais...vivre...
..vaincu et...
..et voulez-vous coucher avec moi?
I'm sorry, I've let you all down.
I'm not a code breaker any more than I am a pilot.
_
I'm heading upstairs to my quarters.
Oh, God!
Rest up.
I just need a moment to clear my head.
Ah, Valerie, he is an handsome man, non?
There's no time for fraternising at Caraway House, Miss Leclaire.
You must put any personal feelings you have aside.
Then so must you!
I'm sure I don't know what you're talking about.
Now, there's a war to be won.
Look at Adolf Hitler!
Do you know what he has done?
He has moved his troops...
..through the Ardennes,
and right into the heart of France.
And he'll get further than that, if the rumours of the mole are true.
Camille, I won't tell you again.
There is no mole.
The Germans could never infiltrate Caraway House.
I hope you are right, Valerie, for all our sakes.
This is Corporal Sky.
Sky, this is Commander Wycombe.
It's been too long, sweetheart.
Sir.
Now, you've been working on this code for months,
and still no success.
Well, these things take time, sir.
Time is the one damn thing we don't have, Sky.
I'll be with you at zero seven hundred hours,
and I expect to be furnished with some good reason
as to why I shouldn't close Caraway House. Is that clear?
Yes, sir.
Now, take down my aircraft security clearance.
Alpha, Charlie, one, nine, two, nine...
Thank you.
Alpha, Charlie, one, nine, two, nine, foxtrot.
- Have you got that down? - Yes, sir.
Send me through your coordinates.
By telegram!
Over and out.
Goodbye, sir.
Hello.
Goodbye.
- Who was that? - Wycombe. He's flying over.
He'll be here soon.
Why must headquarters always interfere?
I'm sending through our coordinates.
He threatened to close Ca...
Buzz.
He threatened to close Caraway House.
You and Wycombe, you have a history, non?
Perhaps you can persuade him to give us more time.
I don't like what you're suggesting, Miss Leclaire.
Would you want him to close us down?
- He won't shut us down. I have an idea. - What?
- Where's that transcribed message from this morning? - Here.
This message ends with two words - four characters, then...
Four characters... Stop it!
Four c...
Four characters, then six,
as did the transcribed message from the 11th.
_
If we assume these two words are the same, then bang...
Oh!
..we have our key.
We just need to know what the German radio ops signed off with.
What would any German radio operator sign off with?
Heil Hitler!
That's it, Val!
I'll plug that into the machine.
This is brilliant!
You are brilliant, Lieutenant.
Let's get to work.
Anything yet, Lieutenant?
Still processing.
She just needs a few more minutes,
and we'll know if we've cracked the German code.
Beep!
Incoming telegram. Must be from Wycombe.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
"Wycombe is a spy."
No, that's not...for now.
There's another message.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
"The Germans didn't attack Plymouth."
There must be a spy...
No! That's not the message.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim?
"The war is over"?
No, it isn't!
Try again!
Vim-va-va-vim-vim?
Oh, Wycombe is about to arrive.
Right! Good.
We already knew that.
We mustn't waste any time.
We already have.
Look, I can see his plane.
Atten-shun!
Good to see you again, Valerie.
It's been too long.
Commander.
Oh, come on, Val.
Don't tell me you've forgotten the time we spent in Monaco.
Bosh!
No, sir.
Good to have you with us, Wing Commander.
May I take your bag?
No.
Yes, I've been carrying it around all day.
You have arrived at a very exciting time, Commander.
We believe we are on the verge of a big discovery.
Well, you've all been given too much slack here.
Come on. Oh, co...
Come on!
No, no, no, no!
I'm all right.
So, this is the machine that cost King Henry VIII £100,000.
She contains components from all the Allied countries.
Over 4,000 connections a second.
Isn't she magnificent?
This is a complete waste of time and resources.
I am shutting this operation down right now.
- She's done it. - Done what?
Deciphered the code. She works!
Camille, you speak the best German.
- There's nothing... - I know, I know.
Wir werden...hart... Abend...sauer...komm...
..neunundneunzig Luftballons.
Oh, there's going to be an attack on Plymouth tonight!
My God. Call that in to HQ right now.
This is Lieutenant Heal radioing from Car...!
From Caraway House!
Report...
Reports of a German air attack on Plymouth tonight.
Advanced cyber command unscrambled their defensive position.
Message received loud and clear.
It's done.
Congratulations, everyone.
Oh, let's not get carried away.
Never forget that Germany and England are still very much at war.
It's true.
Churchill would never let his guard down, and nor can we.
But you've all worked through the night.
Let's take two hours' rest, and we'll reconvene at zero nine one...
..zero... Zero nine one zero...
Nine hundred and zero...
Ten past nine.
And, Sky, I'd like a word with you after my shower.
Yes, sir.
- And, Heal... - Sir?
..I underestimated you.
I can't believe you did it.
We all did it, Camille.
Oh, you are modest.
Thanks to you, we could win the Vietnam war and...
..liberate my homeland.
I am so very grateful to you for what you have done.
No, not yet!
Really, Camille, I couldn't have done it without you and Val.
And we would have been lost without you.
No!
I may no longer be able to fight, but I'll do whatever I can.
You are a brave man.
Now.
- What? - Now.
No, Miss Leclaire, I cannot.
I see.
It is Valerie for whom your heart beats, non?
Perhaps.
It is, as we French say...
..surprendre une...
Frere Jacques.
Dormez-vous?
Sonnez les matines.
Ding dang dong.
Oh.
I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt.
Er, no, I was just heading upstairs to my quarters.
And I was heading up to mine.
Get the door! Get the door!
All right, fold in.
Sky!
Pass me another towel, would you?
There's a good girl.
- Sir. - Damn fine shower.
Much obliged.
Tell me honestly, Sky, do you miss what we had?
I know I do.
Please, I was just sport to you.
Oh, but the nights of passion.
Come on, Val, don't tell me you've forgotten these.
Bosh!
Please, Wing Commander.
Oh, let your guard down, Val.
We're all alone.
Nobody can see us.
Let's not waste any more time, Sky.
Kiss me!
No, Commander!
Tell me you don't want me right now!
Oh-ho-ho-ho-ho!
Oh-ho-ho-ho!
This is our chance.
You can stop pretending, Sky.
You're a woman with woman's needs.
Don't tell me you're not tempted by my steely body.
Oh!
Admit it.
You can't resist.
I can, and I will.
You can run away from me, Val,
but you can't run away from how you feel.
I really must be getting back to my quarters.
She'll be back.
They always come back.
Beep!
- Telegram. - About time.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Vim-vim-vim-vim!
Vim-vim-vim-vim-vim...
Out of paper.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Vim-vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Low on ink.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Vim-va-va-vim!
How do you spell "Plymouth"?
Doesn't matter!
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Vim! Good Lord!
The Germans didn't attack "Plimley-Mooth".
They must have known we were ready for them.
- But you know what that means. - You were right.
There's a German mole at Caraway House.
Perhaps the place is bugged.
Hidden microphones, here?
Impossible.
High command are sending down...
..Moncrieffe.
Moncrieffe!
The spy hunter.
No-one leaves this room until he arrives.
Talk of the spy hunter's imminent arrival caused tension
among the team. Someone at Caraway was a traitor.
Could it be Valerie, Rufus, Camille?
With every hour that passed, the situation grew more tense.
I can't believe the Jerries are onto us.
All that work, all that secrecy,
and one of our inner circle has betrayed us.
It's so embarrassing.
Churchill would never get caught with his trousers down like this.
It's freezing!
Thick thighs, what am I supposed...?
Sorry, we were just refitting the trousers.
Just stand away from the window!
Mine need refitting too.
Get off!
Just get off!
Chris, that tone is exactly why everyone said
YOU should play Hitler.
Get out!
Right!
Churchill would never get caught with his trousers down like this.
Our efforts... Argh!
Just lending them mine.
- Will I take mine off too? - No!
Er, yes, our efforts haven't been wasted, Rufus.
They knew we were ready for them at Plymouth,
but they may not know we've broken the code.
You're right, and look, here comes Moncrieffe.
- I'll do one more. - Thank God you're here!
Lionel Moncrieffe, spy catcher.
I shall begin my interrogations immediately.
Excellent, I must be getting back to headquarters.
Nobody leaves until the spy is caught.
You first, Lieutenant.
Lieutenant Rufus James Heal.
I've looked through your file.
Impressive.
Now, this is a polygraph, the latest technology from the Americans.
It detects the most minute electrical signals,
so I'll know if you're lying.
Let's begin.
Where are you from, Lieutenant?
Harrow.
Correct.
And your family - were they British?
Yes.
Lies!
- It can't be. - I'm not...
Are either of your parents Germans?
Oh.
Are either of your parents Germans?
Are either...?
Are either of your parents Germans?
Yes. Yes, all right, my mother was German born,
but she moved here when she was a child.
- She's as British as you or I. - Oh, Rufus.
You falsified your papers.
Of course, they wouldn't have let me fight otherwise!
Don't raise your voice to me.
I'm not the spy. Does that pass your damn test?
To hell with the test.
I don't trust you.
I'm handcuffing myself to you
until I'm convinced that you have nothing left to hide.
This man is clearly the mole, and I have him trapped.
Oh!
Well, now, Moncrieffe, now that's all solved, I'll get back to HQ.
Beep!
Telegram.
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
Wait.
"HQ is infiltrated.
"Camille is the spy."
No, she isn't.
Are there any other telegrams from HQ?
Er, vim-va-va-vim-vim?
"Val is the spy"?
No, not Val.
_
How could it be you? You're a machine!
Is it you?
No!
Is it Rufus?
I AM Rufus!
- I thought you were Hitler. - No!
So who is it, then?
- Wycombe. - Who's Wycombe?
She's Wycombe!
I thought your dad was Wycombe.
No, because he's not here, is he?
Oh, hi, Chris...
It's too bloody late now, Dad!
Get out!
It's an air raid!
I can see a German plane right overhead.
Where's Wycombe?
He's run away!
Look, the door is wide open!
Oh!
Unbelievable.
That plane's not a bomber, it's a fighter.
Looks like an escort.
Oh!
It's Wycombe in that plane.
We mustn't let him get away.
But who'll catch him?
Dorothy will.
I can't fly Dorothy, not without my leg.
I believe you can.
Petits Filous.
All right.
I'll see you on the other side.
Good luck, Rufus.
I'm most pleased to be returning to the Fatherland, Herr Wycombe.
There is a warm welcome waiting for you in Berlin.
As long as I get my money, I'll be happy.
Good Lord! What the devil is that?
Wait, wait, I'm not ready. I'm not clipped in.
- It's the Brit! - Open fire.
Help! Help me!
Damn it, we'll lose him in the clouds!
He's totally fearless.
I have never seen such skill!
Oh, God!
I think we've lost him.
Mayday! Mayday! We're going down!
I'm going to be sick!
I...I did it! I'm coming home!
_
Vim-va-va-vim-vim!
_
"It's dark..."
The war is over.
I'm sure you and Rufus will be very happy together.
Oh, Valerie, the Lieutenant only has eyes for you.
It is, as the Spanish say...
Ah!
La la la la la la bamba.
Well, Camille, look, there's a visitor here to see us.
Mr Churchill!
Mm!
I wanted to come and express my gratitude personally
by giving you this.
Mm! Ah!
You've done something truly remarkable, Heal.
No-one will ever forget the 19th of February 1961.
The day Hitler was shot down in a plane over Devon.
Congratulations, Lieutenant, or should I say,
the King?
Oh, Rufus!
Thank you, Prime Minister.
Thank YOU, Your Majesty.
You really are a damn fine pilot.
_
Valerie, would you accompany me to dinner tonight?
I'd be delighted.
Perhaps you'd all care to dine with me tonight at Number Six.
It would be an honour.
Thank you, Prime Minister.
Bon.
Vim!
You've all certainly made Winston Churchill very proud.
Except I'm not the real Winston Churchill.
I am...
I'm not the real Winston Churchill, I'm...
Nein, I'm not the real Winston...
I'm not the real...
I'm not the real Winston Churchill.
I'm Winston Churchill.
CREDITS