wages.
- Not while there are three men for every job.
Why should the owners pay more
if men will work for less?
Because the owners are not savages.
They are men too, like us.
Men, yes, but not like us.
Would they deal with you just now, sir,
when you went to them?
- No.
- Because they have power and we have none.
- How will we get power, then? From the air?
- No. From a union of all the men.
Union, is it? I never thought I'd hear
my own sons talking socialist nonsense.
- It's good sense.
- Unless we stand together...
- I've had enough of this talk.
- But, Father, it does...,
Come and wash now.
Your good mother will be waiting.
Do you think I'll let them make you stand
in the rain and not raise my hands to stop it?
Hush, Davy.
- Who gave you permission to speak?
- It is too important for silence.
- They're trying to punish you because...
- It is not more important than good manners.
But what are we going to do about it?
You'll die of cold when it comes to snow.
Let us stand together
and see how they act then.
Right. The men will come out
if we say the word.
All the pits are ready.
You'll not make me a plank for your politics.
I will not be the excuse for any strike.
But if they do that to the spokesman,
what will they try and do to the men?
We will see.
Be silent now. Finish your supper.
- Father...
- Enough now.
- But...
- On with your work.
- It is not enough.
- Wait until you have permission to speak.
I will speak against injustice anywhere,
with permission or without it.
- Not in this house.
- In this house and outside, sir.
- Leave the table.
- I will leave the house.
- Tell your father you're sorry.
- I'm not sorry.
I'm with you. We can find
lodgings in the village.
Gwilym.
All of you, then?
For the last time, sit down,
finish your supper. I will say no more.
We are not questioning your authority, sir.
But if manners prevent our speaking
the truth, we will be without manners.
Get your clothes and go.
- I'm going with them to look after them.
- Hold your tongue. Get on with your dishes.
Yes, my son, I know you are there.
The men have struck.
What does it mean, Mr Gruffydd?
It means that...
something has gone out of this valley
that may never be replaced.
Home to your father and mother, boy.
They'll need you today.
Twenty-two weeks the men were out
as the strike moved into winter.
It was strange to go out into the street
and find the men there in the daytime.
It had a feeling of fright in it.
And always the mood of the men grew uglier,
as empty bellies and desperation
began to conquer reason.
Any man who was not their friend
became their enemy.
They knew that my father
had opposed the strike,
and now it was they who opposed him.
Huw, there's a meeting of the men
in the hills tonight, is it?
- Yes, Momma.
- You will take me.
No, Momma. It is no place for women.
There is a place for this woman
there tonight... upon my soul.
Wait. Wait till you hear me.
I am Beth Morgan, as you damn well know.
I have come to tell you what I think of you,
because you are talking against my husband.
You're a lot of cowards to go against him.
He would do nothing against you
and he never has, and you know him well.
How you smug-faced hypocrites can sit
in the same chapel with him, I cannot tell.
To say he is with the owners is not
only nonsense, but downright wickedness.
There's one thing more
I've got to say, and it is this.
If harm comes to my Gwilym,
I'll find out the men
and I will kill them with my two hands.
And this I will swear by God Almighty.
Lanto! Help!
Hold on, Momma.
They've heard us. They're coming.
He was awake just now.
He'll do, then. But it's beyond me to say why.
You're breeding horses
in this family, Mr Morgan.
This boy should be in his coffin, for my part.
He's a Morgan then, is it, sir?
He should be fed now, Mrs lvor.
A little soup...
and some warm