Tommy Nettle: No one speaks the ****ing lingo out here. You can't say 'pass the biscuit' or 'where's me hand grenade?', they just shrug. Cause they hate us too. I mean, that's the point. We fight in France and the French ****ing hate us. Make me Home Secretary and I'll sort this out in a ****ing minute. We got India and Africa, right? Jerry can have France and Belgium and whatever else they want. Who's ****ing ever been to Poland? It's all about room, Empire. They want more empire, give 'em this shithole, we keep ours and it's Bob's your uncle and Fanny's your ****ing aunt! Think about it.
Tommy Nettle: ...so I says to him: "you can sit round here twiddling your thumbs, waiting to get your head blown off if you want to, 'm off out of it"...
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