01x01 - Get Behind the Girl He Left Behind!

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ANNOUNCER: Australia's at w*r again.

Germany's taking another swing,

this time with Japan and Italy.

But plucky Australians

are on high alert.

The enemy will never get past

our impenetrable defences.

Every man worth his

salt is joining the fray.

Harry loves his country so much

he left his apple farm only a few

months before harvest to enlist.

- (SCREAMING)

- Or did he?

With Harry gone, his brother

has the chance to prove himself.

But Des can't do all

that farm work alone.

He can barely do anything.

Here's the wife Harry left behind.

Francesca may not know

much about tending the land,

but she's not afraid of

getting her hands dirty.

(MOANING) That's it, Frankie.

Put your back into it.

Even entitled city girls like Gwen,

with no practical skills whatsoever

can help the w*r effort.

(MOANS)

Dare to dream, girls -

take to the skies!

(SOBS)

Oh, dear.

Must be that time of the month.

But it could be the time of your life.

We need women to fill in for the men.

Even a sheltered Jewish girl

like Esther can lend a hand.

Cheer up, Gwen.

The answer is plain for all to see.

Join the Women's Land Army.

Pick fruit, harvest crops

for far less money than a man earns.

Still, it's much more than

what our First Australians get.

Although it'll be years before fellows

like Murray are allowed to vote,

he's encouraged to leave

the Aboriginal Mission

and make the ultimate sacrifice.

sh*t.

Here comes Kathleen,

getting behind the wheel

to work the land that

was stolen from her.

- Good for you, Kathleen.

- Ooh-h*-h*!

If only she was as enthusiastic

about assimilation

(LAUGHS)

but at least

she's giving it her all.

Unlike Robert.

He's one of those cowards who

are conscientious objectors.

He also likes stylish black

and white nude photographs.

- (SIGHS)

- Need I say more?

(LAUGHS)

So come on, women of Australia,

take advantage of this heady time

because all too soon

the men will return,

dose you up on anti-depressants

and send you back to the kitchen.

Don't pine for your husband,

Frankie, because the Land Army girls

will be here soon,

tackling your demanding

chores with a woman's touch,

while the men are away.

(QUACKING)

Can't believe we're the

only girls needed in Bush.

I don't think I like it here.

God forbid I try to

keep my daughter safe.

Statistically, there are

more ways to die on a farm.

You are literally sending

me to an early grave.

Oh, cheer up, Esther.

We'll be making a real difference.

(SPEAKS HEBREW)

We're very fortunate to be billeted

to Mr Harry Whitmore's farm.

He's one of the richest men in Bush.

Well, his wife is Italian

so technically the enemy.

But she has married well, which

is considered more important.

Whitmore girls?

Mr Harry Whitmore, so

pleased to meet you.

I am Gwyneth Mountjoy.

No need to lick my boots,

I'm not Harry. He's enlisted.

But agriculture is

an essential industry.

All I know is that he's gone.

His wife's in charge now.

Well, and why the heck not?

It's a brave new world

with the men away.

Sorry, are you ?

Esther's mother?

I'm just waiting for the

return train to Sydney.

And when are you

getting deployed, Mr ?

Robert. And I'm not.

Why?

Isn't it not obvious?

I'm essential.

Stay away from that man.

This is a stupid idea.

Stop talking about it.

I should have cancelled them.

Too late now.

Hello.

I'm Gwen.

I'm Esther.

Careful of the guna.

I mean dung.

Sheep dung.

Oh, I'll be fine.

Upper strength from rowing.

(GRUNTS)

- Oop-la!

- Mister, do you mind?!

That was completely on unwarr

(CHUCKLES) I'm sorry.

Don't be, Mrs Whitmore.

Very effective.

You can call me Frankie.

Let's go.

MAN: (SHOUTS) You are

brave young men of Bush.

Farewell, lads.

You're all heroes!

(CHEERING)

Don't worry, you'll be home soon.

Our country has never been invaded.

Let's keep it that way.

Oh, good morning, Mrs Whitmore.

Have you heard?

They're going to build

a prisoner-of-w*r camp.

Can't come soon enough.

- All those filthy Huns.

- Murderous Japs.

And shifty Itis.

Oh, not you, of course.

You're a Whitmore.

You won't be locked up

because you're doing

your best to assimilate.

Unlike some.

Do us Aussies proud.

MAN: Hear, hear, Mr Wong.

(CHEERING)

Ladies. Mrs Whitmore.

Mrs Gilbert.

- How are you coping?

- With Mr Whitmore gone?

Surprised he enlisted

before the harvest.

Because farming is such a big job.

I have Robert, of course.

And now, the Land Army girls.

(WHISPERS) Don't salute.

Well, I, for one, think

they'll make a good fist of it,

as you always do, Mrs Whitmore.

- MAYOR: Hip-hip

- CROWD: Hooray!

- Hip-hip

- Hooray!

- Hip-hip

- Hooray!

We'll miss you, Terry.

(APPLAUSE)

Why aren't you with

the other brave boys?

Coward. (SPITS)

GWEN: Oh, the farmhouse is delightful.

Which building do you live in, Kathleen?

KATHLEEN: I live down

the road on the mission,

with my two brothers.

Oh.

(HENS CLUCK)

Woo! That is rather

aromatic. (CHUCKLES)

(CHUCKLES) Is that the coach house?

This is where you sleep.

Welcome to the farm.

- Oh.

- I'm alright.

ESTHER: Those windows don't open.

It really is a firetrap.

Are you a communist?

Not sure yet.

I'm only in the first chapter.

What's this?

Aren't you a clever clogs?

Ah! Is this me from the train?

Do you have a boyfriend?

Well, of course.

What normal girl doesn't.

I'm marrying David Kleinberg.

Let me guess.

He's a doctor.

Oh, God, he is.

He's studying veterinary science.

But Mum says it's

practically the same thing.

He can't enlist because of his asthma.

When the w*r is over,

we'll start a family.

Well, yay you.

Us modern gals can choose any path,

even a well-trodden one that some women

are desperate to avoid.

Oh. Where are you in your cycle?

I say

where's my bag?

You didn't grab them?

I assumed you would.

Like a normal person.

What's a big adventure

without a setback?

I'll replace everything

with my first paycheque.

(KNOCK AT DOOR)

I trust everything is to your liking.

Yes. Spoilt for choice for beds.

The men slept here.

Not just slept.

Robert and I will show you around.

Dinner is at the main house.

- And the bathroom too?

- No, no. That's over there.

(GASPS)

ROBERT: Oh, that's Churchill.

The spotted pig. He's harmless.

- (PIG SNORTS)

- Oh, gosh.

There really are animals

everywhere on a farm.

I won't lie, there's a bit to do

since my husband left for w*r.

- You'll be pruning

- Raking.

- burning lips

- Checking trunks for borer.

applying fungicide, pesticide

Oh, they're not the same?

Oh, fungicide won't k*ll spider mites.

And pesticide won't k*ll the apple scab.

We've got a contract with

Woolworths to deliver 10 tonnes

of apples each year.

It's what keeps the farm going.

Well, OK. Where do you want us to start?

Esther and I are keen to get stuck in.

We've had days of extensive training.

Oh, sh*t. It's Des.

Oh, hello.

(CHUCKLES)

Makes a welcome change to his ugly mug.

I'm Des Whitmore. On behalf

of my brother Harry, welcome.

- Welcome.

- Gwen.

- It's an honour to serve.

- Hmm.

I've heard wonderful things

about the lady helpers.

It's Women's Land Army.

Army. Adorable.

Harry's left very big shoes to fill.

Hmm.

Peculiar that he enlisted

with harvest so close.

Didn't even say goodbye.

Mother's very upset.

Francesca.

- Bella.

- Ciao, Des.

A quick word, if I may.

Not a bad time, is it?

Always.

- You mean never.

- Yeah, never.

In private, I'd prefer.

It's a serious matter.

Best kept between us.

Oh, of course.

There's something about the

farm that Harry might not have

We're f*cked.

Des has no money.

He's got no money? He's rich.

He's not.

'Cause he planted mung beans.

Why are you laughing?

You'll be kicked out if

we can't make this work.

He told me that his farm and ours

are under the same family property,

which means we have to

be two times the success.

Now he has lost his crop

and won't let us go down on him.

- With him.

- With him.

Si. Basta.

All of those apples has

to make it to harvest.

Do not upset those useless

girls. We need them.

From now on, this farm

has to run like a clock.

We can give Des any reason

to put one foot on this land.

We can't let anyone know

what happened to Harry.

GWEN: Your husband enlisting,

do you know where

he's been deployed yet?

FRANKIE: Africa.

My brothers are in North Africa.

My father's a w*r correspondent.

He's in Zurich.

Let's hope, for his sake, the

pen is mightier than the sword.

The men in my family are risking

their lives to protect us all.

Fighting a w*r on the other side

of the world won't fix anything.

Are you a fascist?

No.

I'll try anything twice.

How did you meet your husband?

On the boat from Europe.

How romantic.

Where in Italy are you from?

Who cares?

My home is here.

BROADCASTER: (OVER RADIO)

That was the Anderson Triplets

with Don't Roll Under The

Lantana Bush With Anyone -

You'll Get Prickles.

Today is my last day on

The National Broadcaster.

I'm off to do my bit.

My seat-warmer while I'm

gone is about to take over.

And, no, dear listeners, there's

no need to adjust your sets.

FEMALE BROADCASTER: (OVER RADIO)

Good evening, Australia.

My name is Margaret, and

here is the evening news.

- Oh, my God!

- It's a woman!

On the wireless!

FEMALE BROADCASTER:

But first, the latest w*r news.

Good thing they chose

someone with a deep voice.

She'll never get a husband now.

Good for you, Margaret.

My aunt was a suffragette.

- To Margaret!

- OTHERS: To Margaret.

To Margaret.

MAN: (YELLS) He bloody deserves it!

I'm surprised the whole town

isn't lining up to spit on him.

Even Wong's son has

joined up. (SMASHING)

Don't give me that look,

woman. It is all your fault.

There you go.

No harm done.

Here.

Here's your brush.

Hello, sweetheart.

Robert's here.

I'll put the kettle on.

How are you, Father?

(BROADCASTER SPEAKS ITALIAN OVER RADIO)

(KNOCKING)

(RADIO CLICKS OFF)

(CHUCKLES) Ciao, Rita.

Good evening, listeners.

It's Gweneth Mountjoy here,

Australia's first

female radio announcer

reporting to you from the front line

of the Women's Land Army where

Ew! Is that a leech?

No, of course not.

Don't be silly, Gwen.

Where conditions may be rudimentary,

but our plucky ladies are

willing to put comfort aside

to keep our country fed.

Ah!

Ah! Ah! Argh! That's freezing!

(SNORTING)

(HORSE CRUNCHES)

Oh, for Pete's sake!

I have tried not to be entitled,

but these living

conditions are appalling.

How can I be an impressive

(MOANING)

(GRUNTING)

(MOANING, PANTING)

(MOANING CONTINUES)

(GROANS LOUDLY)

(SCREAMS)

No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no, no!

Gwen! Gwen!

(PANTS)

Gwen! Gwen!

Gwen!

Basta.

Cats!

Just

going for a walk.

Alright, alright. That's a lie.

(SOBS)

I don't like it here.

Everything is so strange.

Robert is horrible.

I miss my mother.

(SNIFFS)

Did you do this?

My mum.

I want to go home.

Me, too.

(CLUCKING, MOOING)

(DRIPPING)

GWEN: Oh, yes, I agree.

It is all so strange.

My head is bursting with new sites,

and I was wandering aimlessly

all night, so I thought

I might as well get

on top of the jobs list

before the day started.

And then, I couldn't sleep, so

I'm awfully glad to have you back.

Train only comes once a week.

(HORN HONKS)

(SIGHS, CHUCKLES)

Good morning, Francesca.

Oh, now, we're still

going to need every apple.

But this will go a long way

towards settling that debt.

How good's a government contract?

(CHUCKLES)

Don't you worry, you'll be safe.

You're not Italian. You're

married to a Whitmore.

They're off to an

auspicious beginning, Reg.

Sun's rising on a glorious new venture

for Whitmore enterprises.

I got kicked off the mish.

Got caught with Murray in the church.

You can stay here.

As long as you need.

Won't be long.

I have to get back in there.

Brothers need me.

(ENGINE REVS)