1917

Blake.

Blake.

Sorry, Sarge.

Pick a man.

Bring your kit.

Yes, Sarge.

Don't dawdle.

No, Sarge.

Did they feed us?

No. Just mail.

Time for some tea!

Tea's up!

Myrtle's having puppies.

You get anything?

No.

Oh, I'm bloody starving. Aren't you?

Thought we might get some decent grub out here.

It was the only reason I decided against the priesthood.

What you got there?

Ham and bread.

Where did you find that?

I have my uses.

Here.

Ugh.

Tastes like old shoe.

Cheer up.

This time next week, it'll be chicken dinner.

Not me.

My leave got canceled.

They say why?

No idea.

It's easier not to go back at all.

Coming through.

Something's up.

- Did you hear anything? - No.

Has to be the push, right?

Ten bob says we're going up.

I'm not taking that bet.

Why? 'Cause you know I'm right?

No. Because you haven't got ten bob.

In your own time, gentlemen.

Is there any news, Sarge?

- News of what? - The big push.

It was supposed to happen weeks ago.

They told us we'd be home by Christmas.

Yes, well, sorry to disrupt your crowded schedule,

Blake, but the brass hats didn't fancy it in the snow.

More's the pity, Sarge.

I could've done with some turkey.

Well, I'll make sure

to relay your displeasure to command.

So what's on the cards, then, Sergeant?

The Hun are up to something.

Any idea what?

No. But it's about to ruin our weekend.

Now, listen.

Erinmore is inside, so tidy yourselves up.

Never know.

Might be mentions in dispatches for this one.

If you don't bugger it up.

Must be something big if the general's here.

Lance Corporals Blake and Schofield, sir.

Which one of you is Blake?

Sir.

You have a brother, a lieutenant in the 2nd Devons?

Yes, sir.

- Joseph Blake. Is he... - Alive.

As far as I know.

And with your help, I'd like to keep it that way.

Sanders tells me you're good with maps.

That true?

Good enough, sir.

So...

we are here.

The 2nd Devons are advancing here.

How long will it take you to get there?

I don't understand, sir.

Sir, that land is held by the Germans.

Germans have gone.

Don't get your hopes up.

It appears to be a strategic withdrawal.

They seem to have created a new line,

nine miles back here by the looks of it.

Colonel Mackenzie is in command of the 2nd.

He sent word yesterday morning

he was going after the retreating Germans.

He is convinced he has them on the run.

That if he can break their lines now,

he will turn the tide.

He is wrong.

Colonel Mackenzie has not seen these aerials

of the enemy's new line.

Come around here, gentlemen.

Three miles deep, field fortifications, defenses,

artillery the like of which we've never seen before.

The 2nd are due to attack the line

shortly after dawn tomorrow.

They have no idea what they're in for.

And we can't warn them.

As a parting gift, the enemy cut all our telephone lines.

Your orders are to get to the 2nd at Croisilles Wood,

one mile southeast of the town of Écoust.

Deliver this to Colonel Mackenzie.

It is a direct order to call off tomorrow morning's attack.

If you don't, it will be a massacre.

We will lose two battalions...

1,600 men, your brother among them.

You think you can get there in time?

Yes, sir.

Any questions?

- No, sir. - Good.

Over to you, Lieutenant.

Supplies, gentlemen.

Map, torches, grenades, and, uh, a couple of little treats.

Leave immediately.

Take this trench west up on Sauchiehall Street,

then northwest on Paradise Alley at the front.

Continue along the front line until you find the Yorks.

Give this note to Major Stevenson.

He's holding the line at the shortest span of no-man's-land.

You'll cross there.

It'll be daylight, sir. They'll see us.

There's no need to be concerned.

You should meet no resistance.

Sir, is... is it just us?

"Down to Gehenna or up to the Throne,

He travels the fastest who travels alone."

Wouldn't you say, Lieutenant?

Yes, sir, I would.

Good luck.

Blake, let's talk about this for a minute.

Why?

Blake.

We just need to think about it.

There's nothing to think about.

It's my big brother.

We should at least wait until it's dark.

Erinmore said to leave immediately.

Erinmore's never seen no-man's-land.

We won't make it ten yards.

- If we just wait... - You heard him.

He said the Boche have gone.

Is that why he gave us grenades?

Oy.

Watch where you're going.

Sorry.

All I'm saying is that we wait.

Yes, you would say that, 'cause it's not your brother, is it?

Look, the last time I was told the Germans were gone,

it didn't end well.

You don't know, Blake. You weren't there.

Excuse me. Excuse me.

Excuse me.

You're going up the down trench, you bloody idiot.

Orders of the general, sir.

All right. Say the Boche have gone.

Nine miles will take us, what, six hours?

Eight at the very most.

So we've got time to wait until the sun sets.

- It's enemy territory. - Otherwise, we'll be wide open.

We've got no idea what we're walking into.

Blake, if we're not clever about this,

no one will get to your brother.

I will.

We're here. This is the front line.

Now we need to find the Yorks.

- Sorry, mate. - Jesus!

Watch who you're shoving.

All right, get out of the way, then.

Hey, who the fuck do you think you are,

pushing wounded soldiers around?!

Let go! Let go of me!

Arsehole knocked down our sergeant!

The man's fucking wounded!

All right, I'm sorry. All right? I'm sorry!

- We're on commission. - Just let me through.

- Orders from the general. - Just let me through.

Get out of the way.

Fine.

Just watch where you're going.

Yorks.

It's bloody quiet.

Was it like this before Thiepval?

Don't remember.

You don't remember the Somme?

- Not really. - Hey, mind us.

Come on.

Well, you did all right out of it.

At least wear your ribbon.

Don't have it anymore.

What? You lost your medal?

Heads down, boys.

Come on, lads. Keep digging.

Stay low.

For God's sake. Careful there.

You're stepping on the dead.

That's our sergeant.

Be better washing them out of this dugout with a bloody hose.

Do you know where the Yorks are?

The next bend,