"That'll be the Christmas turkey arriving." "Or something genetically modified to remind you of it." "It's also my new number two, sir." "Ah, yes." "Corporal House." "I hear he came top in the High Threat course." "He's the best." "That's why I chose him." "Thought we'd have a lot in common." "Best isn't always best." "I tend to favour "turns up on time and not a twat"." "Don't worry, sir, I'll have him integrated into the team faster than you can say, "Integrated into the team"." "I admire your confidence." "And your diction." "Oh, and I hear your team's doing the Nativity play." "Ah, yeah." "I did a trade with a mortar platoon commander back in September." "Didn't think I'd live long enough to actually have to do it." "My condolences on your survival." "Corporal House, sir." "Ah!" "Captain Nick Medhurst." "And this is..." "That WAS the CO." "Welcome to Bluestone 42." "Let me introduce you to my team." "Look, Corporal, I know this is your first tour, but I'm sure you'll fit right in." "They're a tightknit, professional unit." "Here we go!" "Ahhhhh!" "For God's sake!" "Team." "It's Corporal House." "Oh, welcome, welcome." "Lance Corporal Lansley." "Oh!" "Grrr!" "You catch us blowing off some steam." "It's called Fire Antlers." "The antlers are soaked in petrol." "You have to set them alight." "Mac thought of it." "You know, cos tomorrow it's Christmas." "And, you know, cos Mac is a keen arsonist." "This is Bird, our bleep." "This is Rocket, this is Mac." "We used to play something like this back in Leeds when I were a kid." "But with rocks." "It were mint." "Come on, then!" "Oh!" "Move over!" "Hey?" "Welcome to the team." "Yeah." "You're pregnant." "Probably." "How has this happened?" "The usual way." "Fucking." "I'm such a prick." "They're going to send me home." "So, you were in Portsmouth." "Fucked a sailor whose name you have forgotten." "I didn't forget it." "Just never found it out." "Well, you did forget that your contraceptive injection ran out round about the 14th." "And now you're eight days late." "So...piss on that." "Thanks for the tip, cos I was going to dump on it." "♪ It's Christmas time" "♪ There's no need to be afraid... ♪" "Afraid." "Afraid of what?" "I'm not afraid." "Oh, I was singing a jolly Christmas song." "Yeah." "Cheery." "Do you know, I woke up this morning and I realised that this will be the first Christmas without Charlotte in my adult life." "And do you know what I felt?" "Relief?" "Relie..." "Relief!" "Exactly." "I'm a free man!" "She can't touch me any more." "She doesn't want to touch you any more." "She made that extremely clear by breaking off your engagement." "Yeah." "Yeah!" "♪ There's a world outside your window... ♪" "Ah, shite." "Sorry, Skip." "What on earth do you think you're doing?" "Deep-fried Milky Ways." "It's the taste of Christmas." "With a Milky Way inside." "Look, your leave was delayed, you're missing Christmas at home... so whatever you want do to cheer yourselves up is fine by me." "So, you don't mind the obvious safety implications?" "Not even a little bit." "Hm!" "Training in five minutes, you monkeys!" "Whoo!" "Simon's happy." "This must change." "Fuck me if that is not all the kit in the world, ever." "It's all there for a reason." "Your ATO, then." "Everyone at HQ reckons he's a right typical Rupert." "Rupert?" "Nah." "His name's Nick." "I think it's short for Nicholas." "Rupert as in officer." "As in posh twat who only got put in charge cos he's got a silver spoon wedged up his jacksie." "Hm." "Interesting, Corporal." "No offence." "Some taken." "So, Gordon House." "You sound like a tower block." "And you look like Prince William." "You related?" "Yeah, I'm his real brother." "Does that make you more or less inbred?" "Ooh." "Only kidding." "You know, Towerblock might be quite a good name for you, given as you were probably brought up in one." "Is that the sort of thing a typical Rupert would say?" "Wouldn't want to disappoint." "I'm just putting it out there, sir." "We do that in Leeds." "You'll get used to it." "And what a fun process that's going to be(!" ")" "Happy Christmas Eve, guys!" "I thought I'd come and say hi." "Mary Greenstock." "Padre." "Gordon House." "Cheeky Northern bastard." "Ma'am." "We'll get used to it, apparently." "He's from Leeds." "♪ Ding dong merrily on high In heaven the bells are... ♪" "Ringing?" "Padre, do you have the script for the Nativity play?" "Yes, because last year at Catterick, we did one..." "That's not still happening, is it?" "It'll be fun!" "Treading the boards!" "And it's great for morale on the base." "If a padre can't raise morale at Christmas, what's the point of her?" "I've often wondered that." "Boss, tell OIC Mortars we're not doing this stupid play." "Yeah, but then I'd have to give him his delicious Cuban cigars back." "And that's going to be...tricky." "So, you sold out your team for a box of posh cigars?" "Classic Rupert." "I had no choice." "They were Cubans." "Right, training." "Lesson one..." "Oh, my God!" "Well, I never use that, that, that..." "any of that." "The gantry..." "is no use to man or beast." "And this - this can go in the bin." "But the brass is non-magnetic, for digging round the device." "Yes..." "In training, we always used to..." "Yeah, well, we're 3,500 miles from training now, aren't we?" "So, just..." "get all of this squared away." "Captain." "As you were." "Everything all right?" "Integrated as promised?" "Fully, sir." "Good, because one of my patrol has found an IED in Yellow Three." "SAT says you're not ready to deploy yet but you seemed confident earlier." "Yeah." "We're ready." "Right, Bluestone 42..." "Off we fuck." "So, if Nick's short for Nicholas, is Mac short for Macholas?" "At the risk of sounding like a Rupert, can you fetch my bags?" "Thanks, Towerblock." "That name sticking, is it?" "Seems to be." "Where's Faruq?" "You want goose?" "No, Faruq!" "I want to talk to witnesses." "Christmas dinner!" "Very tasty." "Ten dollars." "It is agreed." "I'm going to dispense with the robot." "But shouldn't we at least...?" "Bad atmospherics." "We need to restore normality ASAP." "Get rid of it." "You just can't get the staff these days." "Typical Rupert." "You do all that training but at the end of the day, it's, "Do what you're told"." "Yeah?" "Well... ..do what you're told and you might make it out of this tour alive." "I know how to do my job, all right?" "Just drop the bravado and do what..." "Bravado?" "I'm not scared." "No?" "Well, you should be." "Half the people round here want to kill us." "And the other half couldn't give a shit if we died right here and now." "Luckily, there are three or four people who think we're ace." "Yeah?" "Which ones are they?" "No idea." "But that's what makes it so exciting!" "Right." "I'm going down there." "Man-bag and disrupter." "Still reckon you'll be better off with the robot." "Yeah, let's waste time discussing a decision I've already taken." "Tatty-bye." "Boss on the move." "'OK, Towerblock, the disruptor's ready to go 'and I've bunged some Thermite on the main charge." "'That way we can burn it off and avoid any big bangs.'" "If we'd brought the gantry, we could hook and line it out." "I'm a demon with the old hook and line, me." "'I'm sure you're amazing, but we're burning it.'" "Cover, everyone." "Stand by for disruptor." "Firing." "OK, now hit the Thermite." "Firing Thermite." "Stand by." "Firing." "Still reckon we could have used the gantry." "Pull it out." "Incorrect." "This causes less disruption and if we need to go, we can leave it burning." "But what...?" "Look, Towerblock." "When it comes to IEDs, I do know what I'm talking about..." "Oh, dear." "There was a second charge underneath on an anti-lift switch, OK?" "When enough weight burnt off..." "woomph!" "Like a...bottle of champagne." "Champagne?" "It's kind of fizzy wine." "Do you have that "oop North"?" "No." "In Armley we mainly drink chip fat." "♪ God rest ye, merry gentlemen... ♪ Shut up, Simon!" "Oh." "Boss, when we get back, we really need to sort out the parts for the Nativity play." "Oh!" "Can I be the caterpillar?" "When we did the Nativity in primary, I was a brilliant caterpillar." "I want to play Herod and slaughter all the wee kiddies." "I'm not sure that..." "And I'm not playing the Virgin fucking Mary." "I'm no' fucking surprised!" "Imagine that, Bird a virgin." "Bird being a virgin!" "Yes, that would be quite the acting role." ""Mary, turns out you're not a slag."" "Padre, did you really write this?" "Er, yes, I did!" "Not all padres are humourless, uptight..." "Actually, that line was written by a private in Catterick." "OK, let's keep this moving." ""In a dream I was told that you got pregnant from an angel."" ""From an angel caterpillar."" "That is fucking ridiculous!" "Yeah, cos the rest of the Christmas story definitely happened(!" ")" "All right, don't ruin the magic!" "Towerblock, Towerblock, Towerblock." "Right, just..." "Intensity!" "Yeah?" "Projection!" "Go!" "Oh, I see what's happened." "I made the mistake of training for combat, not the fucking West End!" "Simon, I'm ready for my close-up..." "You'll be on soon, boss." "And Mary says..." "We must away to Bethlehem so I can make baby Jesus come out of my foo-foo." "Er, Bird, that's not..." "Boop." "Let's hit pause that there." "OK, Bird." "Bird." "Think." "She's pregnant." "Hormonal." "Moody." "Yeah, I'm doing it fucking moody." "Um, and in the script..." "Jesus!" "Imagine how moody Bird would be if she really was pregnant!" "Ha-ha-ha!" "But which is funnier?" "Bird being pregnant or Bird being a virgin?" "Seriously..." "Team!" "You are on in two hours." "Yeah." "OK." "You." "Ma'am." "I want to talk to you about Mary's...costume?" "Go!" "Uh, sure." "No, but you..." "Oh." "I tell you what." "I'm not playing Joseph." "I'm not standing up there looking like a prick." "Pity, cos you're quite good at that." "I tell you what." "I'll play..." "Star In The East?" "What?" "You want to play a silent, inanimate object?" "That's perfect." "Congratulations, Simon." "Looks like you're Joseph." "Well, it's natural casting." "For some reason, Mary wears blue and white, but there's no particular reason..." "Can we talk about Mary's character?" "Cos she's fucked, isn't she?" "Er, well, technically she's..." "Her whole world turned upside down by an unexpected pregnancy." "All her plans ruined." "She don't know who the father is." "Well, she does know..." "She's angry that she lost track of her fucking contraceptive injection." "Bird, is there something you'd like to talk about?" "Are you pregnant?" "No!" "Probably not." "Dunno." "Maybe." "Did you go to see the medic?" "You got a test kit?" "Got it." "Choked it." "Binned it." "Oh, Bird!" "If it comes back positive, I'll be on the first heli back to Bastion." "And Nick needs me now more than ever." "OK." "Well, look how about I get you another test, and at least that way you'll have all the facts, hm?" "I can't believe I've got to play fucking Mary!" "Oh, Bird." "Leave it with me." "Greetings, shepherds." "I brought you a sheep." "Thank you for your very kind gift." "Knock yourself out." "And then, from the East, the Wise Men came." "What's the first rule?" "Find the baby Jesus." "We must follow yonder star in the East." "East!" "Who the fuck did that?" "!" "You silly cunt!" "Are you trying to start a bloody firefight?" "Incoming!" "Take cover!" "Oh, shit." "They've hit the cookhouse!" "Bastards!" "Corporal Lansley." "Round up the rest of Charlie section and put down suppressing fire." "Sir!" "Charlie section!" "On me!" "That's for blowing up the cookhouse!" "And that's for ruining Christmas dinner!" "Charlie, Charlie One." "This is Zero." "Stand down." "Stand down, Rocket!" "And that's for the turkey." "And the sprouts." "Stand down, I said!" "Worst Nativity play ever." "What's the first rule?" "Find the baby Jes...?" "Don't destroy the cookhouse and all the turkey in it on the night before Christmas." "I knew that new number two was going to be trouble." "Sir, I'd like to take full responsibility." "Mm." "Yes." "I thought you might." "Sorry?" "You think that taking one for the team will prove that you're not a Rupert." "But you ARE a Rupert." "By definition." "All officers are Ruperts." "Well, I..." "Rupert's my middle name." "Really." "Philip Rupert Smith." "Anyway, you said you were taking full responsibility?" "Yes, sir." "Right." "You're pan-bashing for a week." "A week of washing-up?" "Fine." "Carry on." "♪ We three kings of Orient are... ♪" "MUSIC: "Stop The Cavalry" by Jona Lewie" "♪ Hey, Mr Churchill comes over here" "♪ To say we're doing splendidly" "♪ But it's very cold out here in the snow" "♪ Marching to and from the enemy" "♪ Oh, I say it's tough I have had enough" "♪ Can you stop the cavalry?" "♪" "No eggs." "No bacon." "And I'm down to my last Milky Way." "Cheers, Towerblock." "Shit food and misery." "This is just like Christmas back at home." "Well, in my defence...fuck off!" "Look what I've got." "Square stockings." "Nice one!" "Brilliant!" "The one good thing about Christmas on tour." "A box of free stuff." "Skip." "Merry Christmas, everyone." "Merry Christmas, boss!" "Merry Christmas, boss!" "Ah, can we just hang fire on the square stockings just for a sec?" "Towerblock, a quick word." "So, I spoke to the colonel and I took full personal responsibility for the flare incident." "You didn't have to do that." "Yeah, I know, but I'm your officer and I like to look after my team." "Yeah, well, I don't need a Rupert to fight my battles." "You are kidding me?" "Ooh, thank you for helping me, my Lord(!" ")" "It's all us and them with you, isn't it?" "Why do you have this huge chip on your shoulder, Towerblock?" "Because I WAS brought up in a fucking tower block." "My wife was brought up in a fucking tower block." "And people like us can look after ourselves, all right?" "Yeah, well, I chose you for this job, so..." "What do you want?" "A paper hat?" "You chose me because I was the best." "Yeah?" "Well, you're hiding it fucking well!" "Yeah!" "Huge row on Christmas morning." "This IS like being at home." "All we need now is someone crying in the fucking corner." "Oh!" "Oh, mine's warm." "Ah!" "Juggling balls, darts..." "Cards..." "Oh!" "Oh!" "It's full of shit." "Nah!" "These are good gizzits!" "No." "No, really." "It's full of shit." "Ah!" "That fucking honks!" "Here it comes." "I've worked so hard for this moment." "A few days ago, that would have enraged me." "But you know what?" "I think it's fucking funny!" "No-one can touch me now." "Not any more." "This is the first day of the rest of my life!" "I give up!" "So, Christmas lunch is now ration packs EG." "Morale is in the toilet." "What am I going to do?" "You want goose?" "Well, if I did, how am I going to cook it?" "Padre?" "Walk with me." "Can you really deep-fry a goose?" "If you can deep-fry Milky Ways, you can deep-fry a goose." "Sorry to interrupt this... trip to the burns unit waiting to happen, but we've got a shout on." "Padre." "Put the gas on an hour before." "Oh!" "And don't test the heat with your fingers." "Heh..." "Oh!" "Thanks, Padre." "I didn't want you to look stupid, so I said it was for me." "Stupid?" "Not stupid." "Understandably worried." "♪ I saw three ships come sailing in" "♪ On Christmas day On Christmas day... ♪" "Skip!" "You know we've all got guns, right?" "OK." "It looks like a bog standard pressure plate, so..." "Your man-bag and disruptor." "Oh, my God!" "You can't even get it right without being a dick about it." "Boss on the move." "Contact left!" "Diamond 21, this is Bluestone 42." "Contact." "Wait out." "Gordon." "Get down." "Gordon, get down!" "Get down!" "Get down!" "Shit!" "Bird, Towerblock's been hit." "Shit!" "RPG." "Didn't function." "It's stuck in his body armour." "Gordon!" "Gordon, are you OK?" "OK, Bird." "Don't move him." "I'm coming back." "OK, Bird." "Bird, I'm pinned down." "'You'll have to get his body armour off.'" "Rocket!" "Go!" "Go!" "Skip!" "Got one!" "And another!" "It really is Christmas!" "'Cut his body armour off.'" "The quick release is fucked, boss." "Gordon!" "What the fuck?" "Don't!" "It's a fucking RPG!" "Shit!" "Shit!" "'Gordon?" "Listen.'" "You've been hit by a RPG." "Yeah, I can fucking see that!" "Just stay fucking still." "Bird's going to cut your body armour off." "OK!" "OK!" "OK!" "'Bird...'" "Slowly." "Minimum movement." "Shears!" "EOD shears!" "You what?" "Towerblock, you are a fucking genius." "Bird..." "Big fucking scissors." "In the suit kit." "On it." "Oh, fuck!" "OK!" "Now place it carefully on the ground and get clear." "'Bird.'" "When you've cut it off, place it really carefully on the ground and stand clear." "'Roger that, boss.'" "Hold!" "Hold!" "We're clear!" "Sounds like we're clear." "Rocket, get him into his body armour." "Are you OK?" "If that thing had gone off, man..." "Yeah, do you get it now, Towerblock?" "It's not us and them." "It's us... ..and them." "OK, Bluestone 42." "Item number one on the agenda - let's render safe that RPG." "Item number two - we'll render safe the IED." "Any other business?" "Fuck off home and deep-fry a goose?" "Excellent." "Although not for us." "Or for the goose." "Crack on." "If it doesn't work, we've still got the sprouts." "Oh, aye!" "No!" "Too late." "We should take out the roast." "Aye?" "What with?" "Oh!" "I've got it!" "So, boet, does this hurt?" "Course it fucking hurts!" "Yeah, I thought it would." "Towerblock?" "You're up." "Nice one, Towerblock." "Finally found a use for the gantry." "Right!" "And, boss, look, thanks for copping it for the flare." "No problem." "Yeah!" "Really great shit." "Personal best." "Pregnant?" "Nope." "Bluestone 42?" "Table for six just here." "Thank you." "Happy Christmas." "Attention, please." "Brigade HQ have sent an urgent message." ""Happy Christmas."" "Carry on." "Well, this looks edible." "Technically." "Right, team, a toast." "To Bluestone 42 and our new member." "To us." "To us." "Fucking hell!" "Charlotte got married." "Some Army..." "captain she met at..." "Tiger Tiger." "Captain Parfitt." "Oh, Parfo!" "I went to Sandhurst with him." "Top man." "That was a bit Ruperty, wasn't it?" "Someone crying in the corner." "Yay!" "It's finally Christmas." "We've got something to cheer you up." "It's your pillow." "We deep-fried it." "Aye." "Crispy on the outside, fluffy on the inside!" "It's like sleeping on a doughnut." "Not funny, guys." "Not FUCKING funny!" "Yes!" "The old Simon is back!" "Oi!" "Food fight!" "Well done, Padre." "Morale raised." "This isn't quite what I had in mind, but... ..fuck it, it'll do." "Quite." "Carry on."