Black Adder IV, Episode 6
Goodbyeee
Originally performed by: Rowan Atkinson as Captain Edmund Blackadder Tony
Robinson as Private S Baldrick Stephen Fry as General Sir Anthony Cecil
Hogmanay Melchett Hugh Laurie as Lieutenant The Honourable George Colthurst
St. Barleigh Tim McInnerny as Captain Kevin Darling with special guest
brass hat: Geoffrey Palmer as Field Marshal Sir Douglas Haig (in the trench,
it's raining) George: Care for a smoke, sir? Edmund: No, thank you, I'm...
(he lights his own pipe) George: Private? Baldrick: (taking cigarette from
George) Oh, thank you, sir. (begins to eat the cigarette) George: Oh, dash
and blast all this hanging about, sir! I'm as bored as a pacifist pistol.
When are we going to see some action? Edmund: Well, George, I strongly
suspect that your long wait for certain death is nearly at an end. Surely
you must have noticed something in the air... George: Well, yes, of course,
but I thought that was Private Baldrick. Edmund: Unless I'm very much mistaken,
soon we will at last be making the final Big Push -- that one we've been
so looking forward to all these years. George: Well, hurrah with highly
polished brass knobs on! About time! (phone rings within Baldrick's backpack,
Edmund answers it) Edmund: Hello; the Somme Public Baths -- no running,
shouting, or piddling in the shallow end. Ah, Captain Darling. Tomorrow
at dawn. Oh, excellent. See you later, then. Bye. (hangs up) Gentlemen,
our long wait is nearly at an end. Tomorrow morning, General Insanity Melchett
invites you to a mass slaughter. We're going over the top. George: Well,
huzzah and hurrah! God Save the King, Rule Britannia, and Boo Sucks the
Hairy Hun! Edmund: Or, to put it more precisely: you're going over the
top; I'm getting out of here. (goes inside dugout) George: (follows Edmund
in) Oh, now, come on, Cap! It may be a bit risky (tries to speak in a rousing
Cockney dialect, but fails miserably), but it sure is bloomin'ell worth
it, gov'nor! Edmund: How could it possibly be worth it? We've been sitting
here since Christmas 1914, during which millions of men have died, and
we've advanced no further than an asthsmatic ant with some heavy shopping.
George: Well, but this time I'm absolutely pos we'll break through! It's
ice cream in Berlin in 15 days. Edmund: Or ice cold in No Man's Land in
15 seconds. No, the time has come to get out of this madness once and for
all. George: What madness is that? Edmund: For God's sake, George, how
long have you been in the army? George: Oh me? I joined up straight away,
sir. August the 4th, 1914. Gah, what a day that was: myself and the rest
of the fellows leapfrogging down to the Cambridge recruiting office and
then playing tiddlywinks in the queue. We had hammered Oxford's tiddlywinkers
only the week before, and there we were, off to hammer the Boche! Crashingly
superb bunch of blokes. Fine, clean-limbed -- even their acne had a strange
nobility about it. Edmund: Yes, and how are all the boys now? George: Well,
er, Jacko and the Badger bought it at the first Ypres front, unfortunately
-- quite a shock, that. I remember Bumfluff's house- master wrote and told
me that Sticky had been out for a duck, and the Gubber had snitched a parcel
sausage-end and gone goose-over-stump frogside. Edmund: Meaning...? George:
I don't know, sir, but I read in the Times that they'd both been killed.
Edmund: And Bumfluff himself...? George: Copped a packet at Galipoli with
the Aussies -- so had Drippy and Strangely Brown. I remember we heard on
the first morning of the Somme when Titch and Mr Floppy got gassed back
to Blighty. Edmund: Which leaves...? George: Gosh, yes, I, I suppose I'm
the only one of the Trinity Tiddlers still alive. (Lummy?), there's a thought
-- and not a jolly one. Edmund: My point exactly, George. George: A chap
might get a bit (mizz?) -- if it wasn't the thought of going over the top
tomorrow! Right, sir: Permission to get weaving... Edmund: Permission granted.
George: Thank you, sir. Edmund: Baldrick! Baldrick: (entering) Captain
B! Edmund: This is a crisis. A large crisis. In fact, if you've got a moment,
it's a twelve-storey crisis with a magnificent entrance hall, carpetting
throughout, 24-hour portrage, and an enormous sign on the roof, saying
`This Is a Large Crisis'. A large crisis requires a large plan. Get me
two pencils and a pair of underpants. (Later, Edmund wears underpants on
his head with two pencils up his nose) Edmund: Right, Baldrick, this is
an old trick I picked up in the Sudan. We tell HQ that I've gone insane,
and I'll be invalided back to Blighty before you can say "Wooble" -- a
poor gormless idiot. Baldrick: But I'm a poor gormless idiot, sir, and
I've never been invalided back to Blighty. Edmund: Yes, Baldrick, but you've
never said "Wooble." Now, ask me some simple questions. Baldrick: Right.
What is your name? Edmund: Wooble... Baldrick: What is two plus two? Edmund:
Oh, wooble wooble. Baldrick: Where do you live? Edmund: London. Baldrick:
Eh? Edmund: A small village on Mars, just outside the capital city, Wooble.
George: (enters) All the men present and correct, sir. Ready for the off,
eh? Edmund: I'm afraid not, Lieutenant; I'm just off to Hartleypool to
buy some exploding trousers. George: Come again, sir -- have you gone barking
mad? Edmund: Yes, George, I have. Cluck, cluck, gibber, gibber, my old
man's a mushroom, et cetera. Go send a runner to tell General Melchett
that your captain has gone insane and must return to England at once. George:
But, sir, how utterly ghastly for you! I mean, well, you'll miss the whole
rest of the war! Edmund: Yes, very bad luck. Beep! George: Right. Edmund:
Beep! George: Baldrick, I'll be back as soon as I can. Edmund: Pah-pah!
George: Whatever you do, don't excite him. (leaves) Edmund: (removing the
pencils, looks at Baldrick) Fat chance! Now, all we have to do is wait.
Baldrick, fix us some coffee, will you? And try to make it taste slightly
less like mud this time. Baldrick: Not easy, I'm afraid, Captain. Edmund:
Why is this? Baldrick: 'cause it is mud. We ran out of coffee thirteen
months ago. Edmund: So every time I've drunk your coffee since, I have
in fact been drinking hot mud... Baldrick: With sugar. Edmund: Which of
course makes all the difference. Baldrick: Well, it would do if we had
any sugar, but, unfortunately, we ran out New Year's Eve 1915, since when
I've been using sugar substitute. Edmund: Which is...? Baldrick: Dandruff.
Edmund: Brilliant. Baldrick: Still, I could add some milk this time --
well, saliva... Edmund: No, no, thank you, Baldrick. Call me Mr Picky,
but I think I'll cancel the coffee. Baldrick: That's probably 'cause you're
mad, sir! Edmund: Well, quite! George: (re-enters; Edmund quickly replaces
the pencils) Well, it didn't go down well at all, I'm afraid, sir. Captain
Darling said they'd be along directly, but, well, you'd better be damn
doolally. Edmund: Don't worry, George; I am (makes weird noises while moving
his right arm strangely). When they get here, I'll show them what `totally
and utterly bonkeroonie' means. Fwaf! Until then, we've got bugger-all
to do except sit and wait. George: Well, I don't know, sir -- we could,
er, we could have a jolly game of charades! Baldrick: Ooh, yes! George:
And a singalong of musical hits like "Birmingham Bertie" and "Whoops, Mrs
Miggins, You're Sitting On My Artichokes." Edmund: Yes, I think bugger-all
might rather be more fun. (later, the three are sitting around doing bugger-all)
Baldrick: Permission to ask a question, sir... Edmund: Permission granted,
Baldrick, as long as isn't the one about where babies come from. Baldrick:
No, the thing is: The way I see it, these days there's a war on, right?
and, ages ago, there wasn't a war on, right? So, there must have been a
moment when there not being a war on went away, right? and there being
a war on came along. So, what I want to know is: How did we get from the
one case of affairs to the other case of affairs? Edmund: Do you mean "How
did the war start?" Baldrick: Yeah. George: The war started because of
the vile Hun and his villainous empire- building. Edmund: George, the British
Empire at present covers a quarter of the globe, while the German Empire
consists of a small sausage factory in Tanganyika. I hardly think that
we can be entirely absolved of blame on the imperialistic front. George:
Oh, no, sir, absolutely not. (aside, to Baldick) Mad as a bicycle! Baldrick:
I heard that it started when a bloke called Archie Duke shot an ostrich
'cause he was hungry. Edmund: I think you mean it started when the Archduke
of Austro-Hungary got shot. Baldrick: Nah, there was definitely an ostrich
involved, sir. Edmund: Well, possibly. But the real reason for the whole
thing was that it was too much effort *not* to have a war. George: By (Gum?
[it's not `God']) this is interesting; I always loved history -- The Battle
of Hastings, Henry VIII and his six knives, all that. Edmund: You see,
Baldrick, in order to prevent war in Europe, two superblocs developed:
us, the French and the Russians on one side, and the Germans and Austro-Hungary
on the other. The idea was to have two vast opposing armies, each acting
as the other's deterrent. That way there could never be a war. Baldrick:
But this is a sort of a war, isn't it, sir? Edmund: Yes, that's right.
You see, there was a tiny flaw in the plan. George: What was that, sir?
Edmund: It was bollocks. Baldrick: So the poor old ostrich died for nothing.
Darling: (from outside) 'tention! George: (he and Baldrick stand) Right,
they're here. Erm, Baldrick, you keep him warm; I'll go prepare the ground.
(leaves) (outside, George salutes Melchett and Darling) George: Sir. Melchett:
George! How's the patient? George: Well, it's touch and go, I'm afraid,
sir. I really can't vouch for his behaviour. He's gone mad, you see --
stir-frying crazy. Melchett: I see. Is this genuinely mad? George: Oh,
yes, sir. Melchett: ...or has he simply put his underpants on his head
and stuffed a couple of pencils up his nose? That's what they all used
to do in the Sudan. I remember I once had to shoot a whole platoon for
trying that. Well, let's have a look at him. (goes in, followed by the
others) Darling: 'tention!!! Edmund: (stands, talks to Baldrick) ...and
the other thing they used to do in the Sudan is to get dressed up like
this and pretend to be mad. But don't let me catch you trying that one,
Baldrick, or I'll have you shot, all right? Dismissed. (turns to Melchett,
removes the pencils) Oh, hello, sir -- didn't hear you come in. Melchett:
Well now, Blackadder, they tell me you've gone mad. Edmund: No, sir (removes
the underpants), no -- must be a breakdown of communication. Someone obviously
heard I was mad with excitement, waiting for the off. Melchett: There you
are, you see, Darling? I told you there'd be a perfectly rational explanation.
Right, George, have your chaps fall in. George: Very good, sir. (salutes,
leaves) Darling: Well, it's rather odd, sir. The message was very clear:
"Captain Blackadder gone totally tonto. Bring straightjacket for immediate
return to Blighty." (holds up straightjacket) Melchett: Don't be ridiculous,
Darling. The Hero of Mboto Gorge, mad? Well, you've only got to look at
him to see he's as sane as I am! Beeaaah! (leaves) Darling: Would that
the Mboto Gorge where we massacred the peace-loving pygmies of the Upper
Volta and stole all their fruit? Edmund: No -- a totally different Mboto
Gorge. Darling: Oh. Edmund: Cup of coffee, Darling? Darling: Oh, thank
you. Edmund: Baldrick, do the honours. Baldrick: (comes from kitchen) Sir.
(to Darling) Sugar, sir? Darling: Three lumps. Edmund: Think you can manage
three *lumps*, Baldrick? Baldrick: I'll rummage around, see what I can
find, sir. (turns back to kitchen) Darling: Make it a milky one. Baldrick:
Coming up, sir. (outside; while Melchett and George speak, Baldrick can
be heard hawking up a great deal of `milk') Melchett: Well, George, you
must have been delighted to hear the news of the Big Push. George: Absolutely,
sir -- our chance to show the Hun that it takes more than a pointy hat
and bad breath to defeat the armies of King George! Melchett: That's the
spirit! (inside, Baldrick spits, then returns with the mug) Baldrick: Here
you are, sir. Darling: (looks in the mug) Ah, cappucino! Have you got any
of that brown stuff you sprinkle on the top? Baldrick: Well, I'm sure I
could m-- Edmund: No, no! Darling: (as Melchett and George return) 'tention!
Melchett: Well, fine body of men you've got out there, Blackadder. Edmund:
Yes, sir -- shortly to become fine bodies of men. Melchett: Nonsense --
you'll pull through. (laughs) I remember when we played the old Harrovians
back in '96: they said we never could break through to their back line,
but we ducked and we bobbed and we wove and we damn well won the game,
15-4. Edmund: Yes, sir, but the Harrow fullback wasn't armed with a heavy
machine gun. Melchett: No -- that's a good point. Make a note, Darling...
Darling: Sir. Melchett: "Recommendation for the Harrow Governors: Heavy
machine guns for fullbacks." Bright idea, Blackadder. (speaks to Baldrick)
Now then, soldier, are you looking forward to giving those Frenchies a
damn good licking? Darling: Er, no, sir -- it's the Germans we shall be
licking, sir. Melchett: Don't be revolting, Darling! I wouldn't lick a
German if he was glazed in honey! Darling: Sorry. Melchett: (back to Baldrick)
Now then, soldier, do you love your country? Baldrick: Certainly do, sir.
Melchett: And do you love your king? Baldrick: Certainly don't, sir. Melchett:
And why not? Baldrick: My mother told me never to trust men with beards,
sir. Melchett: (laughs) Excellent native Cockney wit! (hits Baldrick in
the face; Baldrick falls over) Well, best of luck to you all. Sorry I can't
be with you, but obviously there's no place at the front for an old general
with a dicky heart and a wooden bladder. By the way, George, if you want
to accompany me back to HQ and watch the results as they come in, I think
I can guarantee a place in the car. George: Oh, no, thank you, sir -- I
wouldn't miss this show for anything. I am as excited as a very excited
person who's got a special reason to be excited, sir. Melchett: Excellent!
Well, (chuf chuf?) then. See you all in Berlin for coffee and cakes. Goerge:
Sir. (salutes) (As Melchett begins to walk out, Darling drinks then spits
out the `coffee'.) Melchett: What is the matter with you today, Darling?
I'm so sorry, Blackadder. Come on, Darling, we're leaving. (he and Darling
leave) George: Righto, sir, I'm glad you're not barking anymore. Edmund:
Well, thank you, George -- although quite clearly you are. You were offered
a way out, and you didn't take it. George: Absolutely not, sir! I can't
wait to get stuck into the Boche! Edmund: You won't have time to get `stuck
into the Boche'! We'll all be cut to pieces by machine gun fire before
we can say "charge." George: All right, so, what do we do now? Baldrick:
Can I do my war poem? Edmund: How hurt would you be if I gave the honest
answer, which is "No, I'd rather French-kiss a skunk"? Baldrick: So would
I, sir! Edmund: All right. Fire away, Baldrick. Baldrick: "Hear the words
I sing / War's a horrid thing / So I sing sing sing / ding-a-ling-a-ling."
George: (applauding) Oh, bravo, yes! Edmund: Yes. Well, it started badly,
it tailed off a little in the middle, and the less said about the end,
the better. But, apart than that, excellent. Baldrick: Oh, shall I do another
one, then, sir? Edmund: No -- we wouldn't want to exhaust you. Baldrick:
No, don't worry; I could go on all night. Edmund: Not with a bayonet through
your neck, you couldn't! Baldrick: This one is called "The German Guns."
George: Oh, spiffing! Yes, let's hear that! Baldrick: "Boom boom boom boom
/ Boom boom boom / BOOM BOOM, BOOM BOOM-- Edmund: "BOOM BOOM BOOM"? Baldrick:
How did you guess, sir? George: I say, sir! That is spooky! Edmund: I'm
sorry, I think I've got to get out of here!!! Baldrick: Well, I have a
cunning plan, sir. Edmund: All right, Baldrick -- for old time's sake.
Baldrick: Well, you phone Field Marshal Haig, sir, and you ask him to get
you out of here. Edmund: (stands) Baldrick, even by your standards it's
pathetic! I've only ever met Field Marshal Haig once, it was twenty years
ago, and, my god, you've got it, you've got it! (he kisses Baldrick's hat)
Baldrick: Well, if I've got it, you've got it too, now, sir. Edmund: I
can't believe I've been so stupid! One phone call will do it -- one phone
call and I'll be free. Let's see, it's 3.30 a.m.; I'll call about quarter
to six. Excellent, excellent. Well, I'll get packing. George: You know,
I won't half miss you chaps after the war. Baldrick: Don't worry, Lieutenant;
I'll come visit you. George: Will you really? Oh bravo! Yes, jump into
the old jalopy and come down and stay in the country, and we can relive
the old times. Edmund: What, dig a hole in the garden, fill it with water,
and get your gamekeeper to shoot at us all day? George: You know, that's
the thing I don't really understand about you, Cap. You're a professional
soldier, and yet, sometimes you sound as though you bally well haven't
enjoyed soldiering at all. Edmund: Well, you see, George, I did like it,
back in the old days when the prerequisite of a British campaign was that
the enemy should under no circumstances carry guns -- even spears made
us think twice. The kind of people we liked to fight were two feet tall
and armed with dry grass. George: Now, come off it, sir -- what about Mboto
Gorge, for heaven's sake? Edmund: Yes, that was a bit of a nasty one --
ten thousand Watusi warriors armed to the teeth with kiwi fruit and guava
halves. After the battle, instead of taking prisoners, we simply made a
huge fruit salad. No, when I joined up, I never imagined anything as awful
as this war. I'd had fifteen years of military experience, perfecting the
art of ordering a pink gin and saying "Do you do it doggy-doggy?" in Swahili,
and then suddenly four-and-a-half million heavily armed Germans hoved into
view. That was a shock, I can tell you. Baldrick: (polishing boots with
a dead rat) I thought it was going to be such fun, too -- we all did --
joining the local regiment and everything: The Turnip Street Workhouse
Powers. It was great. I'll never forget it. It was the first time I ever
felt really popular. Everyone was cheering, throwing flowers. Some girl
even come up and kissed me. Edmund: Poor woman -- first casualty of the
war. Baldrick: I loved the training; all we had to do was bayonet sacks
full of straw. Even I could do that. I rememeber saying to my mum, "These
sacks will be easy to outwit in a battle situation." And then, shortly
after, we all met up, didn't we? just before Christmas, 1914. George: Yes,
that's right. I'd just arrived and we had that wonderful Christmas truce.
Do you remember, sir? We could hear "Silent Night" drifting across the
still, clear air of No Man's Land. And then they came, the Germans, emerging
out of the freezing night mist, calling to us, and we clambered up over
the top and went to meet them. Edmund: Both sides advanced more during
one Christmas piss-up than they managed in the next two-and-a-half years
of war. Baldrick: Do you remember the football match? Edmund: Remember
it? How could I forget it? I was never offside! I could not believe that
decision! Baldrick: And since then we've been stuck here for three flipping
years! We haven't moved! All my friends are dead: My pet spider, Sammy;
Katie the worm; Bertie the bird -- everyone except Neville the fat hamster.
Edmund: (having just finished his packing; sits) I'm afraid Neville bought
it too, Baldrick. I'm sorry. Baldrick: Neville, gone, sir? Edmund: Actually,
not quite gone -- he's in the corner, bunging up the sink. Baldrick: (stands)
Oh no, it didn't have to happen, sir! If it wasn't for this terrible war,
Neville would still be here today, sniffling his little nose and going
"Eek." Edmund: On the other hand, if he hadn't died, I wouldn't have been
able to insert a curtain rod in his bottom and use him as a dishmop. Baldrick:
Why can't we just stop, sir? Why can't we just say, "No more killing; let's
all go home"? Why would it be stupid just to pack it in, sir, why? George:
Now, now, now, look here, you just stop that (conchy?) talk right now,
Private. It's, it's absurd, it's Bolshevism, and it wouldn't work, anyway.
Baldrick: Why not, sir? George: "Why not?" Well, what do you mean? "Why
wouldn't it work?" It-- It wouldn't work, Private-- It wouldn't work because,
there, well, now, you just get on with polishing those boots, all right?
and let's have a little bit less of that lip! (to Edmund) I think I managed
to crush the mutiny there, sir. Well, to think, sir: in just a few hours,
we'll be off. Of course, not that I wouldn't miss all this, sir. I mean,
we've had some good times; we've had damnably good laughs, eh? Edmund:
Yes -- can't think of any specific ones, myself, but... (Melchett's office.
Darling is asleep at the desk. Melchett comes in with a candle. He is wearing
a robe, and a hairnet for his moustache.) Melchett: Darling. Darling: (with
a start, stands) Sir! Melchett: Oh, sit sit sit sit... Can't sleep either,
eh? Darling: Er, no, sir -- thinking about the Push, sir, hoping the Boche
will forget to set their alarm clocks, oversleep, and still be in their
pyjamas when our boys turn up, sir. Melchett: Yes, yes. I've been thinking,
too, Darling. Darling: Sir? Melchett: You know, over these last few years,
I've come to think of you as a sort of son. Not a favourite son, of course
-- lord, no! -- more a sort of illegitimate backstairs sort of sprog, you
know: a sort of spotty squit that nobody really likes. But, nonetheless,
still fruit of my overactive loins. Darling: Thank you, sir. Melchett:
And I want to do what's best for you, Darling, so I've given it a great
deal of thought, and I want you to have this. (picks up a piece of paper
from the desk and hands it to Darling) Darling: A postal order for ten
shillings... Melchett: No, sorry -- that's my godson's wedding present.
(picks up another piece of paper) Here. Darling: Er, no, sir -- this is
the commission for the front line, sir. (holds it out, to give it back)
Melchett: Yes. I've been awfully selfish, Darling, keeping you back here
instead of letting you join in the fun and games. This will let you get
to the front line immediately! Darling: But, but, sir, I, I don't want
to. Melchett: ...to leave me? Heh, I appreciate that, Darling, but, damn
it, I'll just have to enter Berlin without someone to carry my feathery
hat. Darling: (stands) No, sir, I don't want to go into battle. Melchett:
...without me. I know. But I'm too old, Darling. I'm just going to have
to sit this one out on the touchline with the halftime oranges and the
fat, wheezy boys with a note from matron, while you young- bloods link
arms and go together for the glorious final scrumdown. Darling: No, sir...
(walks around the desk to Melchett) You're, you're not listening, sir.
I'm begging you, please -- for the sake of all the times I've helped you
with your dicky bows and dicky bladder -- please (falls to his knees),
don't make me-- Melchett: ...make you go through the farewell debagging
ceremony in the mess. Heh! No, I've spared you that, too, you touchingly
sentimental young booby! Look: no fuss, no bother -- the driver is already
here. Darling: (turns, still on his knees, as the door opens; a shadow
of the driver is cast from the bright light in the next room [extra bright
for dramatic effect]; the driver salutes) But-- Melchett: No, no -- not
a word, Kevin. I know what you want to say. I know. (Darling stands slowly)
Goodbye, Kevin Darling. (salutes) Darling: (frightened, salutes) Goodbye,
sir. (dawn, in the dugout) Baldrick: (enters) It's stopped raining at last,
sir, begging your pardon -- looks like we might have a nice day for it.
George: Yes, it's nearly morning... Edmund: (peeks outside) Good lord --
so it is. Right, time to make my call. (winds the telephone) Hello? Field
Marshal Sir Douglas Haig, please. Yes, it's urgent... (Haig picks up and
is looking over a model of the battlefield.) Haig: Haig. Edmund: Hello,
Sir Douglas. Haig: Who is this? Edmund: Captain Blackadder, sir, erstwhile
of the 1945th East African rifles. Haig: Good lord! Blacky! (knocks down
an entire line of model soldiers) Edmund: Yes, sir. Haig: I haven't seen
you since... (knocks down the second line of model soldiers on the same
side) Edmund: '92, sir -- Mboto Gorge. Haig: By jingo, yes. We sure gave
those pygmies a good squashing. Edmund: We certainly did, sir. And do you
remember...? Haig: My god, yes. You saved my damn life that day, Blacky.
If it weren't for you, that pygmy woman with the sharpened mango could
have seriously... Edmund: Well, exactly, sir. And do you remember then
that you said that if I was ever in real trouble and I really needed a
favour that I was to call you and you'd do everything you could to help
me? Haig: (sweeps the fallen soldier models into a dustpan) Yes, yes, I
do, and I stick by it. You know me -- not a man to change my mind. Edmund:
No -- we've noticed that. Haig: So what do you want? Spit it out, man.
(hurls the dead platoon over his shoulder) Edmund: Well, you see, sir,
it's the Big Push today, and I'm not all that keen to go over the top.
Haig: (sits) Oh, I see. Well... Edmund: It was a viciously sharp slice
of mango, wasn't it, sir... Haig: (fiddles with one of the soldiers) Well,
this is most irregular, but, erm, all right. If I do fix it for you, I
never want to hear from you again, is that clear? Edmund: Suits me, Douggy.
Haig: Very well. Listen carefully, Blackadder; I won't repeat this. Put
your underpants on your head and stick two pencils up your nose. They'll
think you're crazy and send you home. Right, favour returned. (hangs up)
Edmund: (hanging up his end) I think the phrase rhymes with `clucking bell'.
Baldrick: Does that mean you'll going over the top, now, sir? (phone rings,
Edmund quickly picks it up) Edmund: Field Marshal? Melchett: (on the other
end, laughs) Well, not quite, Blackadder -- at least not yet. No, I just
wanted to let you know I've sent a little surprise over for you. (Darling
enters, wearing helmet) George: Sir! (salutes) Edmund: (hangs up the phone,
turns) Captain Darling... Darling: Captain Blackadder. Edmund: Here to
join us for the last waltz? Darling: (nervous) Erm, yes -- tired of folding
the general's pyjamas. George: Well, this is splendid, comradely news!
Together, we'll fight for king and country, and be sucking sausages in
Berlin by teatime. Edmund: Yes, I hope their cafes are well stocked; everyone
seems determined to eat out the moment they arrive. George: No, really,
this is brave, splendid and noble! Sir? Edmund: Yes, Lieutenant? George:
I'm scared, sir. Baldrick: I'm scared too, sir. George: I mean, I'm the
last of the tiddlywinking leapfroggers from the Golden Summer of 1914.
I don't want to die. I'm really not overkeen on dying at all, sir. Edmund:
How are you feeling, Darling? Darling: Erm, not all that good, Blackadder
-- rather hoped I'd get through the whole show; go back to work at Pratt
& Sons; keep wicket for the Croydon gentlemen; marry Doris... Made
a note in my diary on my way here. Simply says, "Bugger." Edmund: Well,
quite. (a voice outside gives orders) Voice: (??)! (??)! Edmund: Ah well,
come on. Let's move. Voice: Fix bayonets! (They start to go outside) Edmund:
Don't forget your stick, Lieutenant. George: Oh no, sir -- wouldn't want
to face a machine gun without this! (outside, they all line up as the shelling
stops) Darling: Listen! Our guns have stopped. George: You don't think...?
Baldrick: Maybe the war's over. Maybe it's peace! George: Well, hurrah!
The big knobs have gone round the table and yanked the iron out of the
fire! Darling: Thank God! We lived through it! The Great War: 1914-1917.
George: Hip hip! All but Edmund: Hurray! Edmund: (loading his revolver)
I'm afraid not. The guns have stopped because we're about to attack. Not
even our generals are mad enough to shell their own men. They think it's
far more sporting to let the Germans do it. George: So we are, in fact,
going over. This is, as they say, it. Edmund: I'm afraid so, unless I think
of something very quickly. Voice: Company, one pace forward! (everyone
steps forward) Baldrick: Ooh, there's a nasty splinter on that ladder,
sir! A bloke could hurt himself on that. Voice: Stand ready! (everyone
puts a foot forward) Baldrick: I have a plan, sir. Edmund: Really, Baldrick?
A cunning and subtle one? Baldrick: Yes, sir. Edmund: As cunning as a fox
who's just been appointed Professor of Cunning at Oxford University? Baldrick:
Yes, sir. Voice: On the signal, company will advance! Edmund: Well, I'm
afraid it'll have to wait. Whatever it was, I'm sure it was better than
my plan to get out of this by pretending to be mad. I mean, who would have
noticed another madman round here? (whistle blows) Edmund: Good luck, everyone.
(blows his whistle) (Everyone yells as they go over the top. German guns
fire before they're even off the ladders. The scene changes to slow motion,
and explosions happen all around them. [An echoed piano slowly plays the
Blackadder theme.] The smoke and flying earth begins to obscure vision
as the view changes to the battlefield moments later: empty and silent
with barbed wire, guns and bodies strewn across it. [A bass drum beats
slowly.] That view in turn changes to the same field as it is today: overgrown
with grasses and flowers, peaceful, with chirping birds.) B L A C K A D
D E R (C) BBC tv MCMLXXXIX