This is the universe.
Big, isn't it?
Thousands of suns, myriads of stars,
separated by immense distances
and by thin, floating clouds of gas.
The starlight makes the gas transparent,
and where there are no stars,
it appears as dark, obscuring clouds,
like that great black cone over there.
Hello. There's a nova.
A whole solar system exploded.
Someone must have been messing about with the uranium atom.
No, it's not our solar system, I'm glad to say.
Ah, those are called a globular cluster of stars.
Rather fine.
Down here in the right-hand corner,
see that little chap rather like a Boy Scout's badge?
It's a mass of gas expanding at thousands of cubic miles a minute.
Ah, here we are. We're getting near a home.
The moon, our moon, in the first quarter.
And here's the Earth, our Earth,
moving around in its place,
part of the pattern, part of the universe.
Reassuring, isn't it?
It's night over Europe, the night of the 2nd of May, 1945.
That point of fire is a burning city.
It had a thousand-bomber raid an hour ago.
And here, rolling in over the Atlantic, is a real English fog.
I hope all our aircraft got home safely.
Even the big ships sound frightened.
Listen to all the noises in the air.
This was their finest hour.
Listen.
Listen.
Request your position. Request your position.
Come in, Lancaster. Come in, Lancaster.
Position nil. Repeat nil. Age 27, 27.
Did you get that? That's very important.
Education interrupted, violently interrupted.
Religion, Church of England.
Politics, Conservative by nature, Labour by experience.
What's your name?
I cannot read you, cannot read you.
Request your position. Can you see our signals?
"Oh, give me my scallop-shell of quiet,
my staff of faith to walk upon,
my scrip of joy, immortal diet, my bottle of salvation,
my gown of glory, hope's true gage,
and thus I'll take my pilgrimage."
Sir Walter Raleigh wrote that.
I'd rather have written that than flown through Hitler's legs.
I cannot understand you.
Hello, Lancaster.
We are sending signals. Can you see our signals?
Come in, Lancaster. Come in, Lancaster.
"But at my back I always hear
time's winged chariot hurrying near,
and yonder all before us lie deserts of vast eternity."
Andy Marvell, what a marvel. What's your name?
Are you receiving me? Repeat, are you receiving me?
Request your position. Come in, Lancaster.
You seem like a nice girl. I can't give you my position.
Instrument's gone. Crew gone too.
All except Bob here, my sparks, he's dead.
The rest all bailed out on my orders. Time out 3:35. You get that?
Crew bailed out 03:35.
Station Warrenden, bomber group "A," "G" for George.
Send them a signal. Got that?
Station Warrenden, bomber group "A," apple, "G," George.
They'll be sorry about Bob. We all liked him.
Hello, "G," George. Hello, "G," George. Are you all right?
Are you going to try and land? Do you want a fix?
The name's not "G," George. It's "P," Peter.
Peter D. Carter. "D" is for David.
Squadron Leader Peter Carter. No, I'm not going to land.
Undercarriage is gone, inner port's on fire.
I'm bailing out presently. I'm bailing out.
Take a telegram. Got your message.
Received your message. We can hear you.
Telegram to my mother.
Mrs. Michael Carter, 88 Hampstead Lane, London Northwest.
88 Hampstead Lane, London.
Tell her that I love her.
You'll have to write this for me, but what I want her to know is
that I love her very much,
that I've never shown it to her, not really,
but that I've loved her always, right up to the end.
Give my love to my two sisters too. Don't forget them.
Received your message. We can hear you.
Are you wounded? Repeat, are you wounded? Are you bailing out?
What's your name? June.
Yes, June, I'm bailing out. I'm bailing out, but there's a catch.
I've got no parachute. Uh ‒
Hello. Hello, Peter. Do not understand.
Hello. Hello, Peter. Can you hear me?
Hello, June. Don't be afraid. It's quite simple.
We've had it, and I'd rather jump than fry.
After the first thousand feet, what's the difference?
I shan't know anything anyway.
I say, I hope I haven't frightened you.
No, I'm not frightened. Good girl.
Your sparks ‒ You said he was dead. Hasn't he got a chute?
Cut to ribbons. Cannon shell. June, are you pretty?
Not bad.
Can you hear me as well as I hear you? Yes.
You've got a good voice. You've got guts too.
It's funny, I've known dozens of girls. I've been in love with some of them.
But an American girl whom I've never seen and who I never shall see
will hear my last words.
That's funny. It's rather sweet.
June, if you're around when they pick me up,
turn your head away.
Perhaps we can do something, Peter. Let me report it.
No, no one can help. Only you. Let me do this in my own way.
I want to be alone with you, June. Where were you born?
Boston. Mass?
Yes.
That's a place to be born. History was made there.
Are you in love with anybody? No. No, don't answer that.
I could love a man like you, Peter.
I love you, June. You're life, and I'm leaving you.
Where do you live, on the station?
No, in a big country house about five miles from here.
Lee Wood House. Old house?
Yes, very old.
Good. I'll be a ghost and come and see you.
You're not frightened of ghosts, are you? It would be awful if you were.
I'm not frightened. What time will you be home?
Well, I'm on duty till 6:00.
I have breakfast in the mess and then I have to cycle half an hour.