Who would have noticed another madman round here?

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)

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.)

The End