HOPE AND GLORY
An Original Screenplay
by
John Boorman
Fourth Draft. 1986
Copyright (c) 1986 John Boorman.
All Rights Reserved.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - BACK GARDEN - SEPTEMBER 1939 - DAY
COLOUR
Raking down a line of suburban gardens lit by a late-summer
sun. Heads move back and forth above the fences that divide
the narrow strips of land, moving to the sound of unseen
lawn mowers.
In one of these gardens two children, BILL (aged eight) and
his sister SUE (aged six) disport themselves. They are
sprawled out on the lawn, heads and hands intent on
something hidden from view in the lush vegetation of a
rockery garden. Beneath those flowers and plants is a dark
and mysterious forest, shaded by huge leaves, and broken up
by towering boulders. Mounted figures of medieval knights
ride in, guided by BILL'S gigantic hand. A wizard appears
in the path of the riders who draw up sharply. BILL gives
an impression of neighing horses. SUE'S face looms up
between large leaves. She makes the sound of spooky wind.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING/LIVING ROOM - DAY
In the penumbra of the room, the mother, GRACE, in droopy
flowered frock, crosses, floats towards the walnut wireless
and, with trembling hand, switches it on. Its green dial
glows with stations like Droitwich and Hilversum. She
glides back and drapes herself behind an armchair in which
her husband, CLIVE, sits solemn and motionless.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
The sound of the lawn-mower ceases abruptly. BILL looks up
sharply. The neighbours' heads come to rest on top of the
garden fences. They turn, listening. BILL inclines his head
towards the french windows, sensing the dread moment. He
walks towards the door and is framed there. He regards his
parents.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING/LIVING ROOM - DAY
They look back with unseeing, inward-turned eyes. Young
BILL gathers confused fragments of the fateful
announcement.
CHAMBERLAIN (V.O)
...those assurances... by eleven
o'clock... a state of war... that
this country... at war with
Germany.
The boy catches his mother's eye. She smiles en embarrassed
smile. The boy is embarrassed by her embarrassment. His
father's glassy solemnity angers him. In the garden, SUE
sings.
SUE (O.S.)
(singing)
Flat foot floogie with a Floy
Floy.
BILL turns to his sister.
BILL
Stop that, Sue!
CLIVE is startled out of his funereal reverie.
BILL
She just sings it. She doesn't
know what it means.
An older sister, DAWN, a tumescent fifteen, stumbles into
the room in a nightdress.
DAWN
Where are my stockings? I can't
find my stockings!
Her mother, GRACE, interrupts her with outstretched arms.
GRACE
Dawn, darling. They've started a
war again.
GRACE says it as though announcing that dinner is served,
but her voice is torn by a sob as she holds DAWN in her
arms.
GRACE
(Whispering and sobbing)
We mustn't frighten the little
ones.
DAWN is appalled by her mother's display of sentiment. She
wrenches free.
DAWN
I don't care! I want my
stockings!
CLIVE get's up, blazing. He seizes DAWN and shakes her.
CLIVE
Stockings? War! Don't you
understand! War!
DAWN
I don't care!
CLIVE
War! War!
GRACE inserts herself between them.
GRACE
Clive. Don't. Dawn, please.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
BILL calls out from the garden. He is jumping up and down,
pointing at the sky.
BILL
German planes! German planes!
They run out. GRACE sweeps little SUE into her arms, buring
her face in her bosom and rushing back into the shelter of
the house. DAWN and CLIVE scan the sky for planes, There
are none.
BILL
I did see them. I did.
DAWN
He's the worst liar.
DAWN swings a fist at BILL and chases him inti the room,
raining savage blows upon him.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING/LIVING ROOM - DAY
Father is white with rage. He seizes them, one in each
hand. Mother cowers with SUE.
CLIVE
These are the fruits of my loins?
DAWN lunges at BILL. The GRANDMOTHER enters, tall, frail,
elegant, ga-ga, deaf.
GRANDMA
Is it peace in out time?
GRACE
(shouting)
No, Mother! It's War! War!
GRANDMA
Or what?
GRACE:
War! War! War!
The wireless begins to play 'God Save the King'. Father
immediately lets go of the children and stands rigidly to
attention.
The others simmer down and shuffle into stiff and still
poses. GRANDMOTHER, who perhaps cannot hear the Anthem, is
baffled, shakes her head.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
The sirens sound. A shocking blast of noises, the sickening
ululations of the air-raid warning. They call out over the
rows of bow-fronted semi-detached, lower-middle-class
houses. Some of the occupants, more daring or more confused
than their neighbours, burst out of their front doors,
turning in frenzied circles, craning at the heavens.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAY
The rigid family once more jerks into movement at the sound
of the siren, looking forcefully out of the french windows,
hiding under the table, clutching each other. The siren
stops. They wait, anxiously. Silence. Even the birds
stopped singing at the wailing of the first siren. This was
perhaps the worst moment of the war, the first moment, when
war was still an unknown dread thing. The siren again, but
this time, a long sustained note.
CLIVE
That's the all-clear. Testing.
They were just testing.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
CLIVE walks tentatively into the garden, looking up,
shielding his eyes against the sun. The others join Him,
one by one.
GRACE
Such a beautiful day too.
All search the clear blue sky. The sound of the lawn-mower
starts up again where it left off before the war.
SUE
(singing)
Flat Foot Floogie with a Floy
Floy.
INT. CINEMA - DAY
BLACK AND WHITE
A Ministry of Information film advises and demonstrates how
to glue strips of paper to windows to avoid flying glass,
and how to construct an air-raid shelter. On the
soundtrack, in addition to the patronizing commentary
voice, is the sound of hundreds of screaming children.
BILL and SUE sit among the children's matinee audience. The
children pay no attention to the screen, but fight and
shout, throw things at each other, jump over seats, cry,
wander up and down the aisles.
The soundtrack changes to dramatic music and a
transformation takes place. All movement and talking
ceases. Hundreds of rapt faces stare at the screen where
Hopalong Cassidy rides into action.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
COLOUR
CLIVE has put an Anderson shelter at the end of the small
garden, He is shovelling earth on to its humped corrugated
metal roof. His friend, MAC, is watching him.
CLIVE
Going to put a rockery garden
over it, Mac.
BILL's voice echoes from inside the shelter.
BILL (O.S.)
Dad. It's full of water again.
CLIVE and MAC peer in to see the boy splashing up and down,
water over his ankles. He clutches his submerged foot in
mock agony.
BILL
Crocodiles! Aah!
CLIVE
The sodding water table.
MAC
Could you seal it over with hot
pitch, Clive? Caulk it like the
hull of a ship.
CLIVE
(caustic)
Thanks. I hope you can come for
the launching.
INT/EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - KITCHEN/GARDEN - DAY
The windows are criss-crossed with brown paper. Beyond, in
the garden, MAC has taken off his jacket and is shovelling
earth onto the shelter. BILL walks barefoot towards the
house, carrying his wet socks and shoes in his hands.
MOLLY
It's not fair on them. It's
selfish to keep them with you.
GRACE
My aunt in Australia has
offered..
BILL sits on the steps at the half-open kitchen door and
wrings the water from his socks. SUE comes in and GRACE
signals MOLLY to be circumspect, but she blunders on.
MOLLY
Snap it up. Great chance for
them. Lot more future out there.
BILL listens, talking it all in. GRACE Watches little SUE
waddle out carrying planes.
GRACE
It's so far way. I couldn't bear
it.
MOLLY
Kids don't care. You're thinking
of yourself.
GRACE turns away. Fighting back tears. MOLLY impulsively
takes GRACE in her arms.
MOLLY
I didn't mean it like that,
Grace. Why does it always come
out wrong?
GRACE
I know you mean well.
MOLLY laughs and holds her at arms length.
MOLLY
There you go again. You're so
bloody nice. I want to shake you.
She does, mock serious.
GRACE
Nothing will ever be the same
again, Molly. And the funny thing
is, I'm glad.
MOLLY looks at her, surprised.
MOLLY
Now you're talking.
SUE listening to this, sees BILL on the steps and gives him
a questioning look. He shrugs, trying to conceal his
anxiety from his sister.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAWN'S BEDROOM - DAY
DAWN lies in bed, head buried in pillows in that deepest of
all sleep, the Sunday morning adolescent lie-in. BILL
shakes her, jumps on top of her, imitates an air-raid
warning, tries to pull off the bedclothes but she holds
them tight.
BILL
There's a soldier at he door,
looking for you.
She whips back the sheet, wide awake. One look at his face
is enough to see that he is lying.
DAWN
You're the biggest fibber.
BILL
It's dinner time. It really is.
Cross my heart.
She snakes out an arm and pulls him into bed. She rolls on
top of him, tickling him and smothering him with kisses.
DAWN
If there's no solider, I'll have
you instead.
He giggles and struggles, gets into a panic, but she is
merciless, won't stop. Finally he starts to cry. She leaps
out of bed, disgusted with him.
DAWN
Cry baby Bunting.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - GRACE'S BEDROOM - DAY
CLIVE rummages in the wardrobe, chuckling to himself. He
finds his Sam Browne belt and Army cap from the First Wold
War.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
MOLLY and GRACE and GRANDMA have 'gin and its', the men
brown ale. They are in high spirits. SUE is doing a puzzle
on the floor. MOLLY shouts into GRANDMA'S ear.
MOLLY
Few bombs might wake up this
country.
GRACE fills MAC'S glass in a tender gesture. A look passes
between them. MOLLY is a friend and wife, they love and
suffer in common. DAWN appears, wearing a defiant slash of
lipstick.
GRACE
I doubt if a few bombs would wake
up Dawn on a Sunday morning.
DAWN
This phoney war get's on my
nerves. If we're going to have a
war, I wish they'd get it
started.
GRACE
Just ignore her, Mac.
CLIVE appears having stripped to the waist but wearing his
Sam Browne from the First Wold War. They all shriek with
laughter. CLIVE, encouraged by this response, does drill
movements and then demonstrates how to salute.
CLIVE
There are many ways of saluting..
(He demonstrates.)
..An old soldier insulting a
young subaltern.
His hand flies to his forehead, gouging the air, the salute
transformed into an obscene gesture. More laughter.
CLIVE
As an officer, you counter that
with one of these.
He raises his arm slowly and languidly until his limp hand
just brushes his temple. A faraway look in his eyes
disdains any acknowledgement of the insulting salute. A
tiny skirmish in the class war.
BILL and SUE swing on the leather straps of the Sam Browne.
They want him to stop. They sense something dangerous,
alien, their father in an unfamiliar role, another person.
The wireless has been on all this time, playing music and
now come the chimes of Big Ben. It is news time. The adults
are suddenly stock-still and serious, leaving the children
stranded in an excited state..
NEWSREADER (V.O.)
Here is the news and this is
Alvar Lidell reading it.
The children are told to be quiet. The room becomes a
frieze of portentous concentration.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
BILL slips into the garden, looks up at the leaden sky
imploringly.
BILL
Come on. Come on.
The news bulletin filters out into the garden. Norway has
fallen, perhaps, or Churchill become Prime Minister.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING ROOM - DAY
The meal has been eaten. They are animated again, but more
reflective, DAWN is winding wool with GRANDMA. BILL and SUE
have also left the table. BILL is looking at the Sam
Browne, now slung over the armchair, with its tangy smell
of deep polish like shiny milk chocolate, a mysterious icon
of war. The conversation at the table drifts over to him.
MAC
...It was a toss-up. His company
went to India, mine went to
France. Flip of a coin.
CLIVE
...two Indians to fan me all
night. The heat.
MAC
....buried In a shell-hole for
thee days, while he's out there
playing polo and sticking pigs.
GRACE
It was the best time of his life.
MAC
How many of our class left? You
and me out of twenty-eight.
CLIVE
And Jim.
MAC
What's left of him. He'll never
see outside of the Star and
Garter.
BILL sinks his teeth into Same Browne. He bites hard and is
pleased to see that his teeth marks go quite deep into the
leather.
CLIVE
I rode into battle...
DAWN, winding wool, knows this speech by heart and mimes it
silently with her father.
CLIVE
...On horseback, with a drawn
sword, leading a battalion of
Gurkhas against the Turks.
GRANDMA watches DAWN'S moving lips and strains to hear.
GRANDMA
I can't hear you.
MOLLY
And where were the Turks?
She also knows the story.
GRACE
No Turks.
CLIVE
We didn't know that. It was a
suicide mission. Machetes against
artillery. Volunteers only.
GRACE
They'd gone.
MOLLY
Saw Clive coming.
They all have a good laugh at CLIVE'S expense and he takes
it well enough. BILL drifts over to his lead soldiers
spread out in a corner of the room. They are an eclectic
mix of cowboys, Indians, the Medieval Knights, as well as
modern militia and a few farm animals.
CLIVE
We all had to write a last letter
home.
GRACE
And it was the last. Hasn't
written a letter since. Not even
a birthday card.
BILL sets a mounted knight against a clutch of modern
infantry.
MAC
It's not like when you're in it.
Just young boys spilling their
guts in the mud.
DAWN
What were they like, the Germans,
when you were a prisoner of war?
BILL looks up with interest. The others fall silent.
MAC
Most of them were very decent to
me.
MOLLY
I wish you wouldn't go saying
that. You'll get into trouble.
DAWN
You can speak German, can't you?
MAC
A bit.
DAWN
Say something. I want to know
what it sounds like.
MOLLY
Certainly not!
MAC
In den ganzen Welt die meisten
Leute sind dumm.
MOLLY
Not so loud!
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING ROOM - DAY
Later. The two men are in post-prandial sleep in the
armchairs on either side of the fire. Sounds of washing up
and women's voices come from the kitchen. BILL walks up
very close and examines the two warriors from the Great
War, or the First Wold War, as it was now coming to be
known. Their mouths are open, slack. His father's false
teeth click up and down as he breathes. MAC shifts his
backside in his sleep to let a fart up from the side of the
leatherette armchair. BILL looks at CLIVE's mottled skin,
the stubble, the sagging epidermis around the eyes. He goes
to the mantelpiece and takes down a silver-framed picture
of his father as a baby-faced second lieutenant wearing
that same Sam Browne. BILL holds the picture next to his
father's snoring face. Once again, a new bulletin begins on
the ever-playing wireless.
BILL
Dad, the News. It's the News.
CLIVE stirs.
CLIVE
Go off and play, son.
BILL shakes him.
BILL
But Dad, It's the News.
CLIVE
Thanks, son. I can hear it. I'm
not sleeping, just closing my
eyes.
BILL is confused. He still feels it is his duty to wake
him.
BILL
(shouting)
The Germans! They've landed!
GRACE and MOLLY appear at the door, alarmed. The men sleep
on.
BILL
Only joking.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
BILL and SUE are in two beds, side by side. Between them is
a crystal set and they are sharing the earphones listening
to Itma or Much Binding in the Marsh. Their door is half
open and a gust of shots and cries rises from below. BILL
gets up and goes to the door.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - HALLYWAY AND LANDING - NIGHT
BILL and SUE venture out on to the landing and peer through
the banisters to the hallway and front door below.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - HALLWAY - NIGHT
MAC and MOLLY are leaving, as CLIVE and GRACE help them on
with their coats. They have had a few more drinks, and are
making sentimental farewells.
MOLLY
Bloody gin. Always makes me cry.
MAC
Got some wires crossed. Only
weeps when she's happy.
GRACE
You're making me start now.
MAC embarrasses her.
MAC
Now, now Grace.
He turns to CLIVE and takes him by the shoulders. They are
both quiet drunk.
MAC
Root it out Clive... the thought
of it, before it takes hold.
CLIVE
Weeds will grow, Mac.
MAC
Consider Grace, the kids. I love
them like my own. And you.
CLIVE
Kiss me Hardy.
As he mentions the children Molly wails anew.
MOLLY
Why couldn't I have the kids? Is
he sitting up there... saying...
"Grace, yes; Molly, no?"
GRACE holds her tight.
GRACE
Better off, Molly. What's to
become of the poor mites!
SUE'S face creases and tears well up. BILL puts a
protective arm about her.
MAC
You're a mug, Clive. We did our
bit in the Last Lot.
CLIVE
If King and Country call, Mac,
you go as soon as I will.
MAC'S face goes white with anger.
MAC
What did we know? We were
seventeen.
CLIVE
(with a far-off look)
I heard the drum and fife
yesterday, Mac, marching past.
Made my hair stand on end.
I thought, I've been asleep for
twenty years.
MAC wants to hit him. He turns away, trembling.
MAC
Go the Hell.
He puts an arm about MOLLY and plunges into the blacked-out
dark-winter-night. As GRACE turns back, she glimpses the
children on the landing above.
GRACE
Do you know what time it is? Go
back to bed, this instant.
They dart out of sight.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
BILL and SUE slide under the bedclothes. SUE is whimpering.
BILL
We're not going to be like them
when we grow up. We're not even
like them now.
He picks up the earphones and twiddles with the crystal
wireless. It is the News again. BILL fiddles with the lead
soldiers, his eyes getting heavy.
EXT. BATTLEFIELD - DAY
BLACK AND WHITE
Infantry advance as shells bust all about them. CLIVE and
MAC push forward, side by side. MAC is hit, goes down,
cries out for help, but CLIVE does not seem to notice.
A muddy field. Silence. Aftermath of battle. BILL searches
among the dead. They are half-buried, covered in mud, all
one texture with the earth. BILL finds CLIVE and MAC, lying
side by side, dead. He is quite unconcerned, pulls his
father's Sam Browne which slips off easily. He wipes the
mud away and starts to eat it. It seems to be made of
chocolate.
EXT. SUBURBAN STREET - DAY
COLOUR
A 1938 Vauxhall 12 is parked outside a recruiting centre. A
boisterous crowd of young men mills about, passing in and
out, encouraging each other, cheering each new man who
steps out a soldier.
Next door is a pub and there is a continuous exchange of
customers between the two establishments. BILL and SUE wait
inside the car. She is whining in the back, sucking her
thumb. BILL sits in the driving seat, pretending to drive,
making all the right noises.
SUE
He's never going to come back.
He's gone off to be a soldier and
Mummy doesn't even know.
BILL
It doesn't matter, I can drive
the car home.
SUE
You wouldn't.
BILL
Would.
SUE
You couldn't.
BILL
Could.
CLIVE, arm in arm with a PAL, comes out of the pub and over
to the car. He gets in after much handshaking and back
slapping.
CLIVE
Sorry, kids. Joined up. I needed
some Dutch courage to tell your
mother.
The PAL opens the passenger door and leans in.
PAL
Never say die!
CLIVE
Steady the Buffs.
PAL
Up the Arsenal!
CLIVE leans across and slams the door closed. The PAL waves
at the window. CLIVE pulls away. The PAL runs alongside,
waving. CLIVE laughs and waves back.
CLIVE
He's one of the best.
Still the PAL keeps up with the car, running frantically.
SUE
Daddy you shut his hand in the
door.
The PAL jumps on the running board and crouches there, red
faced, eyes bulging. He waves desperately at the window.
CLIVE
The silly bugger.
He pulls up the and opens the door. The PAL clasps his hand
and writhes in agony.
CLIVE
You silly bugger. We're trying to
win a war and you start off by
shutting your fingers in the
bloody car door.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARAGE - DAY
CLIVE is putting the car on blocks, taking off the wheels.
BILL helps him.
CLIVE
That's it for the duration.
(runs a duster over the
bodywork)
I shall miss the old girl. Pop in
and give her a polish, Billy boy.
Just now and then. A car needs to
be cherished.
GRACE has appeared at the door and heard some of this.
GRACE
Has Sue got it right?
CLIVE
What's that?
GRACE
You joined up.
CLIVE
Oh, that.
GRACE
I wish you could have told me
yourself.
(he takes Grace in his
arms.)
Oh, Grace, it's not for long.
They say it'll be over by
Christmas.
CLIVE laughs and tickles her, trying to get round her, keep
it light. GRACE laughs despite herself. BILL makes a face,
disgusted by the show of sentiment.
GRACE
Don't be so daft. Act your age.
(extricates herself)
I can't cope on my own. I'd
better let the children go.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
CLIVE leads BILL out on to the lawn, goes down on one knee
and puts his hand on the boy's shoulder. He looks solemnly
into his son's eyes.
CLIVE
Billy boy. Before I go, there's
something I want to tell you.
You're old enough now. It's time.
(produces a cricket ball
from his pocket.)
The Googly. Your hand is too
small to master it, but not to
start practising. Anyway, I'm
going to pass on the secret now,
father to son, in case anything
happens to me.
(demonstrates)
You know the off-break, right?
He flicks the ball out of his wrist. BILL nods.
CLIVE
And the leg-break?
BILL knows that too. The ball comes out of his hand,
spinning the other way.
CLIVE
Now, the googly looks like a leg
break, but it's really an off
break. Got it? Like this.
BILL
It's like telling fibs.
CLIVE
That's it. When you tell a lie,
you hope to get away with it.
When someone else does, you want
to find them out. A good batsman
will spot a googly. A good bowler
will hide it. Always remember
that, son.
BILL flicks the ball this way and that, experimenting.
CLIVE watches him tenderly, a moment of perfect harmony. He
folds BILL in his arms, holding him fast.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - FRONT DOOR - DAY
BILL swings on the front gate looking back at his mother,
SUE and DAWN bidding their farewells to CLIVE in a
confusion of tears and forced gaiety.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - FRONT GARDEN - DAY
CLIVE finally strides away, head high, a military spring
already in his step. Behind him GRACE shuts the door as
though closing a chapter of their lives.
BILL
Dad! Dad!
CLIVE, now some twenty yards away, looks back. BILL throws
the cricket ball and CLIVE catches it neatly. He smiles and
marches down Rosehill Avenue. BILL is puzzled as CLIVE
shows no sign of returning the ball. He calls after him.
BILL
Dad!
CLIVE is now eighty yards down the street. He suddenly
turns smiling broadly, and with a prodigious throw he send
the ball in a high arc towards his son. BILL juggles his
position, cups his hands, gets under it as the hard, heavy
ball hurtles downwards. At the last moment he loses his
nerve and jumps back, letting the ball thump onto the lawn.
He looks towards CLIVE, full of shame. BILL is relieved to
see that CLIVE has turned the corner.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
BILL winces as he and SUE are passed from hand to hand,
hugged and kissed by many female members of the family -
DAWN, GRANDMA and GRACE'S three sisters, FAITH, HOPE and
CHARITY. MOLLY is on hand with MAC, the only male. On the
table are the remains of the farewell party, an iced cake,
balloons, gaudy wrapping paper. Encouraging cries fly
about. "Aren't you lucky?" "Isn't it exciting?" "I wish I
could hide in your suitcase." From the smothering embraces,
BILL casts a pleading look to MAC who reaches out and hauls
him from the women.
MAC
You survived that. The war should
be no problem.
GRACE ties a label to BILL'S lapel. It declares his name
and other details.
GRACE
Time to go.
She leads the children out MAC follows, carrying two
suitcases.
EXT. WATERLOO STATION - DAY
MAC and GRACE lead BILL and SUE into the concourse where
hundreds of children are assembled, each wearing an
identification label. The noise is overwhelming. The
organizers shout into megaphones. One buy has fainted and
is put on a stretcher by St. Johns Ambulance men and, to
get through the crowd, they hold the stretcher above their
heads. The boy recovers, sits up and waves to his friends.
The parents throng behind the barrier and they follow him.
WOMEN'S VOLUNTARY SERVICE (W.V.S) Volunteers stand by.
W.V.S. WOMAN
Australia?
GRACE nods. The W.V.S WOMAN examines the labels on SUE and
BILL and checks them against her list. The steam ad noise
have suffocating effect on GRACE.
W.V.S. WOMAN
Say goodbye and pass them
through.
GRACE weeps as she embraces SUE. BILL fights back the tears
and turns away embarrassed when his mother wants a kiss
from him.
BILL
I'm going to miss the war and
it's all your fault.
They are sucked into the enclosure and quickly disappear
among the throng of refugee children. GRACE tries to follow
with her eyes, searching for them hungrily. They disappear.
MAC flinches at the pain he sees in her face. She lunges
forward, and tries to push through the barrier.
GRACE
I can't do it. What's the point?
MAC
It's just the wrench, Grace. It's
for their sake.
He tries to restrain her, but she breaks free.
GRACE
Let me through, I want my
children.
W.V.S. WOMAN
No one goes in there. You signed
the forms, didn't you?
GRACE
Yes, I did. And now I want them
back.
W.V.S. WOMAN
Too late. Plenty of others
would've been glad of their
places.
The W.V.S. WOMAN and an ARP MAN are forcibly holding her.
MAC cannot bear to watch her pain. He leaps over the
barrier, grans SUE and BILL and hoists them out of the pen.
BILL is acutely embarrassed at the scene his mother is
making. He struggles to get free of MAC.
BILL
Let me alone. I want to go. I
want to go.
MAC swings them over to GRACE. She snatches up SUE and hugs
her. Over the child's shoulder her eye is drawn to a poster
depicting a ghostly Hitler hovering over a mother and her
children. He whispers in her ear "Take them back".
BILL
In front of everybody. They were
all looking at us. Why did you
have to do it?
GRACE is shattered, drained. She becomes calm almost
dreamy.
GRACE
Please yourself.
(turns to Mac)
Let them go, if they want.
MAC
Grace!
GRACE turns back to the barrier, which is still defended by
the W.V.S WOMAN with the clipboard.
W.V.S. WOMAN
Changed your mind?
GRACE
Yes.
W.V.S WOMAN
Well, you're too late. Apply
again. On your head be it.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
BILL glues balsa wood wings on to a model Spitfire.
Opposite him, across the dining-room table, GRACE is
cutting something out of the newspaper. DAWN'S school books
are spread out on the table, but she has abandoned them in
favour of a dancing lesson by Victor Sylvester on the
wireless. She steers her imaginary partner between the
furniture, her face concentrates, trying to follow the
steps.
VICTOR SYLVESTER (V.O.)
Slow, quick, quick, slow. Right
forward.. left together.. Three,
four.. Back together.. Turn..
One, two.. Quick, quick, slow.
GRACE crosses the room towards the kitchen. DAWN passes in
from of her and she falls into step partnering her daughter
in the dance.
DAWN
You know it? It must be an old
one.
GRACE
Ancient. Have you finished your
homework?
DAWN
After this dance.
She mouths the steps, "Forward..quick, quick, slow"
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - KITCHEN - NIGHT
GRACE pins the newspaper cutting to a bulletin board which
also displays a 'war map' with pins in it showing the
progress of hostilities. The cutting is a David Low cartoon
showing a soldier standing defiantly on a rocky promontory
looking across a stormy sea towards France, saying 'Very
well alone.' She is deeply moved by it. BILL enters and
watches her, sensitive of her mood, but he has a mournful
duty. He takes out the pins, representing the German Army
in Russia.
BILL
I've got to move the Germans to
Minsk. They've taken Minsk.
GRACE lays a restraining hand on his shoulder.
GRACE
Tomorrow. Give them one more
night of freedom. Move them in
the morning.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
Swirling to the dance music, DAWN comes face to face with
the clock on the mantelpiece and registers the hours. She
dives for the wireless and searches for another station.
She is satisfied when she hears the stenorian tones of Lord
Haw-Haw's nightly propaganda broadcast from Germany.
DAWN
Quick! Lord Haw-Haw! He's
starting.
BILL scampers in. GRACE hovers by the door.
LORD HAW-HAW (V.O.)
..the soldiers like to wager
among themselves, what day will
the German army enter Moscow? One
thing is certain: much sooner
than anyone thought. From here in
Berlin, listeners in Britain, I
can give some very definite news.
There will be a bomber raid on
London tonight, the fourteenth
night in succession. Look out for
bombs if you live in Carshalton
or Croydon. There will be
incendiary attacks if you live in
Fulham and Hammersmith. And watch
out in Kew; be alert in
Walthamstow.
BILL looks at his mother, DAWN gets up and goes over to the
wireless, staring at it.
BILL
That's us.
GRACE
It's just German Propaganda.
DAWN
He always knows.
GRACE
Half the time he's bluffing.
A moment of dread hangs over the room. GRACE summons her
resolve and bustles over to the wireless and snaps it off.
GRACE
Bill, off to bed.
She gives him a shove towards the door to silence his
protest. She takes DAWN by the shoulder and presses her
into a chair and pushes her head into her homework.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
Sirens are sounding, one after the other, some distant,
some close, then the one at the end of the street, like
dogs howling in the night waking other dogs. Three German
bombers, a Heinkel, a Dornier and a Stuka, fly in formation
across the black sky. GRACE appears behind the model
planes, which hang on threads from the ceiling, wakes BILL
and SUE and they stumble out of bed.
INT. ROHAN'S HOUSE - STAIRS - NIGHT
GRACE leads BILL and SUE down the stairs. They sleep on
their feet in this familiar routine. DAWN is still dressed
below, playing dance records on the gramophone and
finishing homework.
GRACE
We better go to the shelter.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
They open the French windows and fierce wind cuts into the
room.
DAWN
It's freezing out.
GRACE hesitates, then closes the windows.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - HALLWAY - NIGHT
They squeeze themselves into the tiny space under the
stairs, close the door and light a candle. BILL and SUE
complain irritably as they try to arrange their limbs. The
shoving and pushing wakes them up.
GRACE gives each of them a biscuit from a tin.
DAWN
What would we do if a German came
into the house?
GRACE
Don't be silly, Dawn.
DAWN
Well, why do you always bring the
carving knife in here?
DAWN picks up the knife, pretending to hear someone outside
the cupboard door. She presses her ear to the thin wooden
partition. BILL'S eyes bulge. He is half convinced. Even
GRACE looks uneasy. SUE, reacting automatically to crisis,
pulls on her red and white 'Mickey Mouse' gasmask. Suddenly
DAWN thrusts the knife through a crack in the boards. She
makes a blood curdling cry.
GRACE slaps her, amused, despite herself. BILL seizes DAWN
from behind and pulls her back on top of him. They writhe
and giggle. BILL cocks an ear.
BILL
Flak!
They are stock-still, straining to hear. He is right. The
anti-aircraft guns have started up. Their crisp 'crump'
sound gets closer and more frequent. Another separate sound
intrudes - falling bombs. The explosions are at regular
intervals, each one louder than the last.
BILL
Basket bombing
Counts between the bombs
Two and three and four and five
and six and..
The next bomb falls closer.
GRACE
Why didn't I take you to the
shelter?
Her hands tough and caress the children, as though weaving
a protective charm over them.
BILL
...four and five and six and...
Another, louder still. They sit tense and straining every
muscle, willing the bombs away.
GRACE
If only I'd let you go to
Australia.
BILL
...and five and six and...
It is deafening, shaking the house.
DAWN
The next one is ours. Either it
hits us or it goes past us.
BILL
...and four and five...
DAWN
Please God. Not on us. Drop it on
Mrs. Evans. She's a cow.
BILL
...and six...
It drops, some way past them. They slump exhausted against
each other. A fire-engine bell approaches. The flask goes
on. DAWN gets up, untangles herself from the others.
DAWN
I'm not going to die like a rat
in a trap. Let me out of here.
Staggers out of the cupboard.
DAWN
I'm going outside.
BILL scrambles after her.
GRACE
Wait. Don't.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - NIGHT
DAWN runs out. Searchlights criss-cross the sky. Anti
aircraft shells make little white puffs in the black sky,
the sound coming much later. Up the road, a house is
blazing. A fire engine swings by. ARP MEN run in the
street. DAWN dances in the tiny front garden.
DAWN
Quick, quick.. slow, quick, slow.
BILL hesitates in the porch.
DAWN
It's lovely. Lovely. Does little
Billy want to see the fireworks?
BILL runs out, sees something by the kerb and picks it up.
BILL
Shrapnel! And it's still hot.
He tosses it from hand to hand. At the far end of the
street, the skyline of central London is silhouetted
against a burning sky. GRACE suddenly laughs at the sight
of the burning house down the street. She is shocked at her
own reaction.
GRACE
Come in at once, or I wash my
hands of you.
A shell bursts right overhead and they duck into the open
doorway. The four of them are framed there, looking up at
the savage sky where the Battle of Britain rages. BILL
watches enraptured.
EXT. THE CITY OF LONDON - NIGHT
BLACK AND WHITE
St. Paul's sites at the heart of the blazing city.
EXT. STREET - DAY
COLOUR
DAWN, in school uniform, rides off on her bicycle. BILL and
SUE come out with satchels and gasmasks. GRACE watches them
making their way along the street scarred and damaged by
the night's bombing. PEOPLE scratch in the rubble to
salvage their belongings.
BILL'S eyes are fixed on the ground searching from
shrapnel. Now and then he stops to retrieve a piece. SUE
dawdles along behind him, one foot in the gutter, the other
on the kerb.
BILL looks up as he hears a voice groaning from a bomb
site. SUE is now some way ahead. The street is suddenly
deserted. He looks back at the bomb-scarred house. The
front of the house is gone and flowery wallpapers are
revealed. The voice cries out again, a panting, rasping
moan. BILL ventures forward. Now a WOMAN'S VOICE, groaning.
MAN'S VOICE (O.S.)
Oh fuck... oh fuck... oh fuck...
A white hand and forearm stretch up from the debris. BILL
shifts position until he can SEE TWO HEADS, a MALE and
FEMALE, pressed against a mattress which is leaning against
a broken wall. He darts back on the street and looks for
help. The street is still deserted. He hesitates, then runs
up the street for all he is worth.
EXT. SCHOOLYARD - DAY
BILL and SUE are late. They run into the yard where the
other children are already lining up in their respective
classes. The HEADMASTER is a wizened Welshman, too old for
military service. He struts up and down.
HEADMASTER
Dressing from the right!
He points an accusing finger at BILL.
HEADMASTER
Late! My study before prayers.
They shuffle into their correct spacing.
HEADMASTER
Eyes front! Keep still down
there, you little ones. It's
discipline that wins wars.
Inspects his troops.
HEADMASTER
Now quick march. Left... right...
left... right. Swing those arms.
FLASH CUT:
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY - DAY
BILL flinches and winces as the cane strikes his hand.
INT. SCHOOL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY
The children are praying, eyes closed, hands joined. On the
dais, the teachers, mostly women, are lined up.
HEADMASTER
Oh God, bring destruction to our
enemies. Make these young one's
true soldiers of the Lord. Guide
Mr. Churchill's hand in the
cunning war.
Some of the boy's covertly swap pieces of shrapnel and
cigarette cards as the HEADMASTER'S tirade grows in
passion, but BILL is mesmerized and fearful of this daily
rhetoric. He blows on his hands, shakes them to alleviate
the pain inflicted by the caning.
HEADMASTER
Let our righteous shells smite
down the Messerschmitts and the
Fokkers.
FLASH CUT:
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY - DAY
BILL'S face, twisted in anxious anticipation, awaits the
next blow.
INT. SCHOOL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY
HEADMASTER
Lord, send troublesome dreams to
Herr Hitler. Let him not sleep
the sleep of the innocent. And
comfort our warriors at the
fronts. Brighten their swords,
burnish their bullets with your
fire.
FLASH CUT:
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY - DAY
BILL jerks convulsively and grins as the cane connects.
INT. SCHOOL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY
The HEADMASTER reaches a climatic peak, then is silent,
head sinking to his chest. He continues, very quietly.
HEADMASTER
We beseech Thee, Oh Lord, to have
mercy on these Thy children.
FLASH CUT:
INT. HEADMASTER'S STUDY - DAY
BILL suffers another whack.
INT. SCHOOL ASSEMBLY HALL - DAY
HEADMASTER
We dedicate our studies this day
to the war effort.
INT. CLASSROOM - DAY
BILL covertly shows the welts on his hands to his neighbour
as he and thirty other nice-year-old children are harangued
by a large red-faced woman, their TEACHER. She sprays a lot
of saliva as she speaks. A coloured linen projection of the
world is hung over the blackboard. She slaps it with her
cane, pointing to many countries .
TEACHER
Pink... pink... pink... pink...
What are the pink bits, Rohan?
BILL stands up, still seeking balm for his hands - he has
them tucked under his armpits.
BILL
They're ours, Miss.
TEACHER
Yes, the British Empire.
A boy, HARPER, sits in front row and is in saliva range.
Each time the TEACHER turns back to the blackboard, the boy
wipes his desk flamboyantly with a cloth, much to the
spluttering amusement of his classmates.
TEACHER
Harper, what fraction of the
earth's surface is British?
HARPER
Don't know, Miss.
TEACHER
Anyone?
A girl shoots up her hand. JENNIFER BAKER.
JENNIFER
Two-fifths, Miss.
TEACHER
Yes. Two-fifths. Ours. And that's
what the war is all about. Men
are fighting and dying to save
the pink bits for you ungrateful
little twerps.
The pinched little faces find this notion difficult to
absorb. They stare back blankly at the British Empire. A
SIREN SOUNDS an air raid warning.
TEACHER
Books away! Scramble!
They grab their gasmasks and run from the class, cheering.
EXT. SCHOOLYARD - DAY
The children swarm to the shelters, which are long narrow
concrete structures in sandbags to absorb blast.
INT. SHELTERS - DAY
The children file in mostly, laughing and chatting. There
are clattering duckboards on the ground affording cover
from an inch or two of water. Along each side of the
shelters are narrow benches. The children sit facing each
other. The HEADMASTER'S steel-studded boots hammer noisily
down the steps. He raises his arm high.
HEADMASTER
Gasmasks on!
They open up their cases and pull on their masks. The
HEADMASTER conducts their breathing,. Moving his arms up
and down to indicate a rhythm.
HEADMASTER
Slowly... in... out...don't
panic... in... out...
There is a HISSING SOUND as they inhale, then a RASPING
comic RASPBERRY as the air is pushed out of the sides of
the rubber masks.
HEADMASTER
In... out... These masks are
given to us to filter away
abominations of the enemy.
He marches up and down in the narrow gap between the scabby
knees of children.
HEADMASTER
Now, nine times table. One times
nine is nine...
The children's muffled voices chant the multiplication
table rubbery GURGLING SOUNDS merge from the gasmasks.
Hidden behind his mask, BILL finally gives was to angry
tears. He sticks out his tongue as the HEADMASTER passes
by.
HEADMASTER
Two times nine is eighteen...
(And so on)
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
BILL and SUE turn into their street on their way home from
school, looking lifeless and dull, but their faces lights
up with excitement as the fifty-foot length of a BARRAGE
BALLOON suddenly rises from behind the houses to the
distant SOUND of CHILDREN CHEERING. They sprint into their
house.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAY
BILL and SUE run through the hallway and into the living
room, scattering satchels, hats, gasmasks in their wake.
Their excitement is far too intense to explain to the
startled GRACE. They burst out through the French Windows
into the Garden.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
They run to the back fence. In the waste ground beyond the
garden, where a further row of house was to be built when
war intervened, BILL and SUE witness a TEAM of mostly
AIRWOMEN, (WRAFS) intent on launching the BALLOON Some
twenty WOMEN, each holding a tether, are paying out their
lines under the rhythmic commands of their LEADER. There is
a c able attached to the winch mounted on a TRUCK, and this
is wound out as the balloon rises. The balloon has a
comforting, humorous aspect, and the children laugh and
giggle as they watch.
NEWSREEL
BLACK AND WHITE
Like a school of basking whales, barrage balloons fill the
sky. It Is a newsreel of the Battle of Britain. A dramatic
scene follows: A DOG FIGHT between SPITFIRES and GERMAN
BOMBERS. A patriotic, punning commentary, pulsating music.
INT. CINEMA - DAY
COLOUR
GRACE and her three children are glimpsed in their seats,
watching. BILL is totally engrossed, enthralled. Out of
habit, he simulates the engine noise of the planes and the
clutter of cannon fire.
Suddenly a caption is superimposed on the screen:
AIR RAID IN PROGRESS - YOU ARE ADVISED TO TAKE SHELTER.
GRACE leads them out. They shuffle up the aisle, dragging
their feet, watching over their shoulders as they go.
BILL
Can't we just see the end?
DAWN
They've got the real thing
outside.
BILL
It's not the same.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
A number of PEOPLE have come out of their suburban gardens
and look up at the pale-blue-winter sky. GRACE, SUE and
BILL are among them.
A SQUADRON OF SPITFIRES is attacking a formation of GERMAN
BOMBERS. They are distant black dots high above the barrage
balloons. The planes WHEEL and DIVE and give a splendid
display of AEROBATICS. Being so high, there is almost no
sound of engines or cannon and the feeling of unreality is
heightened.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - FRONT GARDEN - DAY
One of the GERMAN PLANES is HIT as the PILOT leaps from his
burning plane and a PARACHUTE blossoms and checks his fall.
GRACE draws the children back into the corner of the house
as the PLANE CRASHES. They creep out again. The dog fight
continues but the German planes have lost formation and
dispersed. The battle has become straggly and is rapidly
disappearing from view. Meanwhile, the PILOT'S PARACHUTE
drifts ever CLOSER as he descends, causing great
excitement.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
NEIGHBOURS run in the direction of the FALLING AIRMAN. Some
WOMEN carry garden forks and others pick up rocks on the
way. GRACE and the children hurry back into the house.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - DAY
They go out through the back gate to join an excited throng
of NEIGHBOURS.
EXT. BUILDING SITE - DAY
The PILOT drifts on to the wasteland where the barrage
balloon bravely flies. People rush in from all sides, as he
makes an elegant landing and gathers his parachute. A crowd
of women, children and OLD MEN encircle him. He looks no
more than twenty-years old. The crowd watches every move he
makes. They edge back as he reaches into his pocket. But it
is only a silk handkerchief that he pulls out. He wipes his
hands, puts it away. He moves to an empty oil drum and sits
on it. He crosses his legs and carefully lights a
cigarette. His affects the greatest nonchalance as he
smokes. A little way off a huge hoarding gives the
impression of the houses that were to be built on this
site, an idyll of suburban bliss. The PILOT looks at the
idealized family group on the poster and then at GRACE and
her children. He smiles ironically.
GRACE
England is so beautiful, and he
had to land here of all places.
Finally, a rather aged POLICE CONSTABLE arrives on the
scene. The onlookers thrust him forward. He advances a few
paces, the stops. Hesitating, quite at a loss. He looks at
the PILOT then back to the crowd. They egg him on.
Resolutely, the CONSTABLE pulls out his truncheon and steps
forward.
CONSTABLE
Now then. Now then.
The German PILOT gets languidly to his feet. The POLICEMAN
Retreats a pace. A TITTER or two ripples through the crowd.
Encouragingly, the PILOT half raises his hands in the
'stick-em-up' position, the cigarette held delicately
between the pale fingers. It is a taunting but oddly gentle
gesture. The CONSTABLE takes him by the arm and leads him
off. The crowd opens up to let them pass. As he does, DAWN
catches his eye and he winks at her. She gives him a
flirtatious smile. GRACE is horrified. She seizes DAWN and
forces her face against her own breast, hiding her gaze
from the lewdness of the enemy.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAWN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
DAWN is bent over, looking between her legs at BILL as he
tries to draw a stocking seam up the back of her calf. He
must continuously lick the brown crayon. She holds a hand
mirror in such a way that she can see the progress of his
work.
DAWN
It's crooked. Rub that bit out
and do it again.
She cuff's him and he resumes. He stops halfway up her
thigh.
DAWN
Well, keep going. Don't stop now.
He goes higher, then hesitates again.
BILL
Nobody is going to see this far
up.
She leers at him.
DAWN
Don't be so sure.
He blushes. She stands up and pirouettes, her flared skirt
swings out, exposing her knickers.
DAWN
When I jitterbug.
INT. DANCE HALL - NIGHT
DAWN, swinging as she jitterbugs with a young CANADIAN
SOLDIER, BRUCE. They are good. He hoists her over his
shoulder. They whirl and swirl. The music changes to a slow
waltz.
BRUCE
It was great for me, how was it
for you.
DAWN
A bit too quick.
BRUCE
Well. Now we can do it slow. Are
those some kind of stockings
you're wearing?
DAWN
They might be.
BRUCE
I mean, no suspenders. They just
kinda' disappear up your ass.
She slaps his face. He Holds up his hands in mock horror
and backs away.
BRUCE
Quit it. Help me someone. The
girl's beating on me.
Jeers and laughter from fellow CANADIANS on the dance
floor. DAWN turns and walks off, head in the air, but not
forgetting to wriggle her bottom as she goes. BRUCE grins
admiringly and stalks after her on tiptoe. His pals love
it.
EXT. SKY - DAY
BLACK AND WHITE
A SPITFIRE is attacked by a GERMAN PLANE. The pilot twists
and turns away, trying to escape. The pilot is BILL! His
eyes bulge with fear as the enemy bullets rip into his
fuselage. The rat-a-tat of the gunfire wakes him up.
INT. ROHAN'S HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
COLOUR
BILL opens his eyes, and they alight upon his MODEL
SPITFIRE suspended on a thread over his bed. The cannon
fire gradually resolves into a TAPPING on the WINDOW.
Blearily he gets up and unlatches it. A Dishevelled DAWN
climbs through, threading her way between the model
airplanes hanging from the ceiling and stepping down over
the table on which BILL has his shrapnel collection spread.
BILL
(whispering)
Mind that shrapnel
DAWN thrusts a brass regimental hat badge in BILL'S face.
DAWN
(whispering)
I'm starting my own collection.
BILL
(impressed)
It's Canadian. Where'd you get
it?
She pockets it and creeps out of the door, smiling smugly.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAWN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
DAWN pulls back the covers and slides into bed, fully
dressed. She is asleep as her head hits the pillow. A
distant SIREN starts-up,warning of an air-raid.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - GRACE'S BEDDROOM - NIGHT
GRACE is instantly alert as the SIRENS call to one another,
coming CLOSER. She throws on her dressing-gown, pulls on
her fur-lined boots, picks up the ever-packed bag at her
bedside and hurries out of the door.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
GRACE shakes BILL and SUE awake.
GRACE
Bill, Sue. Air-raid!
They tumble out of bed and into their dressing-gowns like
automata.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DAWN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
GRACE enters, shakes DAWN who does not respond. GRACE pulls
back the covers and is surprised to see DAWN fully dressed,
wearing make-up and with slightly crooked seams down the
back of her legs.
GRACE
Dawn, what have you been up to?
DAWN murmurs her protest. GRACE pulls her out of bed, but
DAWN crawls back in.
DAWN
I'm not going to that shelter.
I'd sooner die.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - STAIRS - NIGHT
BOMBS are already falling. GRACE switches on a light and
hurries down the stairs leading her two children through
the familiar routine. She calls back. BILL bumps down the
stairs, on his bottom, half asleep.
GRACE
Dawn! Come down here!
Shew starts back up the stairs, but is halted by a BOMB
dropping close by. She runs down again, scoops up the two
little ones and heads from the living room.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
As they approach the French windows, another BOMB EXPLODES
very close by.
Before its sound is heard, there is a tremendous BLAST,
which rips off the blackout curtains and sends them
floating into the room. The WINDOWS are TORN OUT and most
of the fragmented glass hangs limply from the brown paper
that criss-crosses the panes for just this eventuality.
Every loose object is hurled inwards. The room light
flickers on and off and shell-bursts illuminate the room
from without. GRACE and the children are thrown back
against the wall, but before they hit it the process is
reversed and the blast is sucked out again. They are pulled
back towards the windows together with the glass and loose
fragments of the room. This all happens slowly as though
the room is filled with water and the windows were a
reversible sluice gate. SUE'S long blonde-hair is first
blown, then sucked across her face. Then comes the SOUND of
the EXPLOSION itself, Which seems to have the effect od
draining water from the room. The People and the bric-a
brac all drop to the floor, dead weights once more.
The children clutch their ears, SCREAMING. GRACE has one or
two cuts. She gathers up the children, spreading her blood
on them, and frightens herself, confused as to whom the
blood belongs. She wipes it away, crying out a desperate
prayer.
GRACE
Please, God. Take me, but spare
them.
She carries SUE and drags BILL through the shattered French
windows, out into the garden and towards the Anderson
shelter.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - GARDEN - NIGHT
Two more BOMBS EXPLODE, further way, but still close enough
for the blast to force them off balance. They stumble and
fall, covering their ears against the pressure. They tumble
into the SHELTER, stepping into several inches of water.
The ack-ack keeps up the barrage, and the EXPLODING SHELLS
intermittently LIGHT UP the SKY. GRACE, mumbling Dawn's
name, clambers out of the shelter to fetch her.
GRACE sees DAWN coming down the garden. She looks dazed as
she staggers quite slowly with one arm wound around her
head. As she gets closer, GRACE sees that her eyes are
glazed and she is MOANING. GRACE leads her into the SHELTER
and covers her with a blanket. SUE is fast asleep already
in spite of everything. DAWN looks at her mother
accusingly.
DAWN
You don't care if I die. How
could you leave me there? Even if
you don't love me?
DAWN desperately wants her mother to take her in her arms,
but GRACE sits stiffly upright, unyielding.
DAWN
Tell me the truth. You had to get
married, didn't you? Because of
me.
GRACE
The ideas you get in your head.
DAWN
That's why you never liked me.
I'm different from you. Well,
everything's different now, so it
doesn't matter. So there.
Finally DAWN bends forward and puts her head on her
mother's lap and cries, at first softly, the more bitterly.
GRACE holds her and rocks her at last. BILL watches this,
perplexed, as perhaps he always will be, by the complex
emotional interplay that passes between women.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
GRACE and DAWN are cleaning up the debris. Some plaster has
fallen and there is a pall of dust. They are singing
merrily, glad to be alive, to have survived the night.
Outside the front window, BILL and SUE can be seen, having
ventured out, eager to explore the damage done to Rosehill
Avenue.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
BILL picks up shrapnel. Several houses have been damaged,
one heavily so. Outside this house, a handful of people has
gathered watching the ARP MEN as they comb through the
smouldering ruins. Two of them are working a stirrup pump
as they extinguish a small fire in a corner of a room. Some
children come up to BILL and SUE. They are flushed and
excited, bursting with news. One buy, ROGER, blurts it out.
ROGER
Pauline's mum got killed.
BILL
No, she didn't.
ROGER
Yes, she did, didn't she?
He appeals to his companions, particularly to a GIRL, JANE,
a little older than the others.
JANE
Yes, she did. Killed stone dead.
ROGER
You can ask her. Ask Pauline.
He points over at the ruined house, and sure enough there
is PAULINE, a girl of twelve. From time to time, a
silicosis NEIGHBOUR goes over to her, offering help, but
PAULINE shakes her head and looks away. She just's stands
there as though her mother has told her to wait on that
spot and not to talk to any strangers until she got back.
The children drift across towards her and stop a few feet
away. They stare intently, studying her face.
ROGER
Isn't that right? You're mum got
killed last night?
PAULINE nods affirmatively. A BOY throws a miniature
parachute into the air. It opens up and drops neatly at
PAULINE'S feet.
ROGER
There you are. I told you.
He jabs BILL in the ribs, finding a physical vent for his
excitement. BILL lashes back at him with a violent anger
that scares and quells the other boy. The group falls
silent.
PAULINE steals glances at them out of the corner of her
eye. She is not a popular girl, careful and self-conscious,
and she cannot help enjoying this situation. She flushes.
JANE
Do you feel rotten, Pauline?
PAULINE shakes her head. The children move away from her
and start to fool around, scrapping and laughing, but when
they get back within a certain distance of PAULINE, they
grow quiet and move away again. BILL nudges SUE.
BILL
Go and ask her if she wants to
play.
SUE
Ask her yourself.
BILL
You do it. You're a girl.
SUE edges slowly towards her, not without nervous glances
back at her brother.
SUE
Pauline.
PAULINE does not deign to answer the little girl.
SUE
Pauline. Do you want some
shrapnel?
She has fragments in her hand. She offers then to PAULINE.
It is possibly part of the bomb that killed her mother.
PAULINE shakes her head.
SUE
Do you want to play?
PAULINE shakes her head again. SUE goes back to BILL who
has been watching carefully at a distance. After a moment,
they turn back and walk home. ROGER sees another newcomer
approaching. He calls out.
ROGER
Hey, Terry. Pauline's mum got
killed last night.
TERRY
She never.
ROGER
She did too.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - DAY
BILL and SUE enter, bursting with their news. GRACE'S
sister, HOPE, has come to help and so have MOLLY and MAC,
and a Neighbour, MRS. EVANS, on whom DAWN wished a bomb.
GRACE'S arm is bandaged, MAC is scoring panes of glass with
a diamond cutter. He has a dollop of putty. BILL is
immediately distracted and cannot resist kneading the
putty. DAWN brings in a tray of tea. They are all in high
spirits, almost festive. SUE tugs at her mother's skirt.
SUE
Pauline's mummy got deaded.
GRACE'S attention is elsewhere. She does not hear.
MOLLY
You're lucky up here. The East
End's been burning for three
nights. Incendiaries.
DAWN hands the neighbour her tea.
DAWN
Still not been hit, Mrs. Evans?
MRS. EVANS
Touch wood.
DAWN
You had a near-miss the other
might.
MRS. EVANS
I hear they're dropping diseased
rats on bomb sites.
DAWN
BILL found this tiny little
parachute. So that's what it was
for.
They all slurp their tea and talk at once. HOPE is dusting
the piano.
HOPE
Is the piano all right, Grace? It
was knocked clean over.
GRACE goes over to it and opens the lid, runs her fingers
over the keys.
GRACE
It seems to have survived.
MAC
Play something, Grace.
MOLLY
We never used to sing much before
the war, did we? Not in daytime
anyway.
DAWN starts to sing 'Mareseatoats and Doeseaboats and
Littleambseativy' and GRACE picks it up on the piano. DAWN
dances around the room. There is something wild and
abandoned about her.
MRS. EVANS
Dawn's come on fast.
MOLLY
That's the war for you. Quick,
quick, quick.
MRS. EVANS
Didn't I see you with a soldier,
Dawn?
It is just a teasing guess. She roars with laughter.
DAWN
I'm just doing my bit for the war
effort.
GRACE stops playing.
GRACE
I won't have this vulgar talk in
my house.
DAWN
It's only a joke, Mummy. I'm
fifteen. I'm still at school. I
want to be a nun when I grow up.
MAC goes over to GRACE. He picks up some sheet music from a
pile scattered on the floor. He selects a piece and props
it on the music stand.
MAC
Try and few bars of old Fred,
Grace.
GRACE is softened by his tone. Their eyes meet for a
moment. She turns the stool back to the keyboard and plays
Chopin, particularly poignant since the fall of Warsaw.
They listen with teary eyes. 'Mareseatoats and Doeseaboats
and Chopin. It is the spirit of the Blitz.
SUE
(whispering to Bill)
Tell them about Pauline's mum.
BILL
Not now. They wouldn't believe
me.
STOCK FILM
BLACK AND WHITE
The Chopin continues over a scenes of bomb-ruined London,
desolate and devastated.
EXT. BOMBED SITE - EVENING
COLOUR
A surreal landscape: a flight of stairs leading nowhere, an
exposed bathroom; a house entirely destroyed but for one
fragment of wall jutting up, and on it still hangs a
picture. BILL wanders among these wonders, scavenging. A
marauding gang of boys approaches. They spread out and move
up on BILL from all sides, trapping him. ROGER, the boy who
told of Pauline's mother's death, is among them and appears
to be their leader.
ROGER
What are you doing here? This is
our territory
BILL
Looking for shrapnel.
A BOY
What you got?
Two of them grab BILL and wrench his fist open, extracting
a piece of metal.
A BOY
Look, a detonator.
The others gather round, scrapping and shoving for a better
look, BILL'S arms are twisted behind his back and his eyes
are covered with a very dirty handkerchief. They take him
to a ruined house.
INT. RUINED HOUSE - DAY
The room has a brazier, table and chairs. They remove the
blindfold and he sees a wondrous sight, a collection of
bullets, shells and bomb fragments. ROGER slaps the shell
proudly.
ROGER
Unexploded.
BOY
You were spying.
BILL
I never was.
ROGER
Yes, you was. Make him talk.
They twist his arm. Several of the boys are smoking. One
takes a .303 Bullet and tightens in into an old vice fixed
to the table. BILL is fighting back the tears. ROGER leans
over BILL.
BILL
I know a secret.
ROGER
What's that?
BILL
The Germans are dropping men on
bomb sites.
ROGER
Who told you that?
They loosen their grip on his arm.
BILL
My uncle's in the War Office. He
said, Don't go on the bomb sites.
"Boys are going missing all the
time."
ROGER
They're not.
BILL has captured their attention. They release him.
BILL
If you find them hiding, they cut
your throat. They have to, or
they'd get found out.
The boys begin to get nervous, glancing about them. The BOY
on the vice aims a nail at the top of the bullet,
brandishing a hammer in the other hand.
BOY
I wish one would come through the
door now.
He hammers the nail and the bullet EXPLODES, embedding
itself in the door. They jump out of their skins.
ROGER
You want to join our gang?
BILL
I don't mind.
ROGER
Do you know any swear words?
BILL
Yes.
ROGER
Say them.
BILL is stubbornly silent.
ROGER
Well go on then. You can't join
if you can't answer.
BILL
I only know one.
They laugh derisively.
ROGER
Well say that one then.
BILL cannot get himself to say it, try as he will. They
groan and jeer. BILL forces it out, the one that he heard
on the bomb site.
BILL
Fuck!
They fall respectfully silent, exchange covert looks.
ROGER
That word is special. That word
is only for something really
important. Now, repeat after
me... Bugger off.
BILL
Bugger off.
ROGER
Sod.
BILL
Sod.
ROGER
Bloody.
BILL
Bloody.
ROGER
Now put them together. Bugger
off, you bloody sod.
BILL
Bugger off, you bloody sod.
ROGER
OK. You're in.
He gets up, leading them out of the room.
ROGER
Let's smash things up.
They go into a newly bombed house and, armed with stout
sticks and iron bars, indulge in an orgy of destruction.
ROGER has an air-gun and specializes in picking of light
bulbs. BILL is tentative at first, but the violence is
infectious. Pent-up aggression bursts and his is wilder and
worse than the others.
EXT. BUILDER'S YARD - DAY
ROGER leads the way, clambering over a damaged wall and
dropping into an enclosed yard. The others tumble after him
and ROGER raises a warning arm and addresses the gang
solemnly.
ROGER
This is top secret.
He points to a corner where dozens of sign-posts, uprooted
from crossroads, have been piled against each other, their
arms spread out forlonly announcing the names of towns and
their distances.
ROGER
They pulled them up from all the
crossroads, so when the Germans
land they'll lose their way.
BILL
Won't they have maps?
ROGER
They'll have to go to a shop to
buy a map, stupid. Then they'll
give zemselves avay viz ze vay
zay tork.
One BOY starts to goose-step and sing.
BOY
(singing)
Ven der Fuhrer says
Vis iss der master race,
Ve vart, vart, vart,
Right in der Fuhrer's face.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LANDING AD STAIRS - NIGHT
DAWN, watched by BILL, tiptoes down the stairs. She opens
the front door as silently as possible. Vera Lynn dispenses
sexy sentimentality on the wireless ('Sincerely Yours').
GRACE appears. DAWN is caught in the act.
GRACE
And where do you think you're
going?
DAWN
Out.
GRACE
You go to bed this minute and
take off that lipstick.
DAWN
No, I won't.
GRACE files at her, enraged, and slaps her head and face.
GRACE
You wouldn't dare defy me if your
father was here.
DAWN covers her head with her arms until GRACE stops,
exhausted.
DAWN
If you've finished, I'm going.
She steps out of the door. GRACE grabs her, tearing her
blouse, and swings her back inside. They wrestle wildly,
both whimpering and moaning. BILL watches from above as the
fight imperceptibly transforms and mother and daughter are
finally hugging each other and crying.
DAWN
I want him. I want him so much.
I'll kill myself if I can't have
him.
GRACE
There, there, my baby.
GRACE lets go and turns towards the living room where Vera
Lynn wails a lament.
GRACE
Go if you want. What does it
matter? We might be all dead
tomorrow.
DAWN'S make-up is smudged, her clothes torn.
DAWN
I can't go like this.
GRACE turns back and takes DAWN'S hand.
GRACE
You better bring him home, if you
really love him. Don't kill love.
You'll regret it for the rest of
your life.
DAWN
Who said anything about love?
EXT. BOMBED SITE - EVENING
The gang's H.Q. is even further improved. They have put in
some expensive furniture.
They have a wireless and a cocktail bar that opens to reveal
a nest of mirrors reflecting the bottles within. The gang
fool's around, in and out of the room, smoking and drinking
beer. A girl walks past, throwing them a flirtatious look. It
is PAULINE the girl who lost her mother in an air-raid. They
whistle and shout at her.
BOY #1
Want to see our den?
BOY #2
We got a bed.
They laugh bawdily and she turns up her nose. One of the boys
starts to wrestle with her. She starts to struggle. They pin
back her arms and try and kiss her. Her breasts push up
against her blouse like little apples. ROGER whispers
something in her ear. She protests.
ROGER
Go on, Pauline. Be a sport.
PAULINE
No, I won't. There's too many of
you.
ROGER
One at a time.
PAULINE
No, I won't.
ROGER
I'll give you something.
He gets a box, opens it and shows it her. It is full of
looted jewelry, brooches, cheap bracelets. PAULINE is
delighted. She pokes around and chooses a necklace, puts it
on.
PAULINE
All right. Line up.
They form a n orderly queue and PAULINE pulls up her skirt.
She holds her knickers open by the elastic so that it is
possible to look inside. The boys file past, each peering
inside her knickers for a second or two.
BOY 2
I seen better.
BILL is on the end. As his turn approaches, his face is tense
with apprehension.
PAULINE
It won't bite you.
They all laugh at his expense. Hi swings punches, flying in
all directions and they hits back. One or two land. They hurt
the recipients and they hit back. ROGER calls a halt.
ROGER
Pack it in. It's time to smash
things up.
EXT. ANOTHER BOMBED SITE - EVENING
The gang loot and pillage, smashing as they go. Behind a
piece of broken wall, BILL discovers a soldier and a girl
clasped together, the girl is pressed against a door. BILL
moves closer. The soldier fumbles with her clothing, but she
is so wild with passion that his efforts are impeded. BILL
registers the familiar gasps and cries that he is becoming
accustomed to hearing from the injured, the dying and the
coupling. The girl moves her head and her face becomes
visible over the soldier's shoulder. It is DAWN. She sees
BILL as he sees her. She mouths the words: 'Go away'. He
turns to shake and cry. He moves away, then on an angry
impulse picks up a stone and throws it. The soldier lets out
a cry. He turns revealing himself as BRUCE.
BILL
(shouting)
Fuck!
Hearing the sacred cry, the gang come running. They see BILL
hurling stones and quickly join in. BRUCE protests angrily
and throws a couple of rocks himself, but he is overwhelmed.
He protects DAWN from the onslaught and they flee.
ROGER
Teach him a lesson. Think they can
come over here and take our women.
BOY 2
Wasn't that your sister, Rohan?
BILL shakes his head, denying her.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - LIVING ROOM - NIGHT
GRACE is cutting down a coat for SUE; BILL is reading a
comic, the Dandy; DAWN is darning stockings. The doorbell
SOUNDS and DAWN catapults from her chair to greet the
visitor. She returns with BRUCE, now evidently a welcome and
regular guest.
BILL throws friendly punches, one wild one catches him in the
crotch. He takes it bravely. He distributes largesse, a tin
of corned beef and a packet of tea for GRACE, chewing gum for
SUE, a model barrage balloon for BILL and a pair of nylons
for DAWN.
BRUCE
You need suspenders for this kind.
She laughs, then holds the stockings against her skin in a
transport of sexual delight.
DAWN
I'm going to cross my legs and make
that rustling noise.
Finally and dramatically, BRUCE pulls out a package in a
brown-paper bag. He gives it to GRACE. She opens it. It is a
piece of beef steak. GRACE is overcome.
GRACE
Steak! I can't remember the last
time...
BRUCE
crooning ironically
'The last time I saw sirloin...'
GRACE holds the raw meat in her two hands and impulsively
kisses it.
BRUCE
Take it away. I know your husband's
been away a long time, but....
DAWN
Don't be so cheeky, Bruce.
He holds up his hands in supplication.
BRUCE
Sorry, sorry. Too long in the
barrack room.
Itma has just ended and a programme has started up about the
evacuation of Dunkirk. Its tone is quasi-religious -
patriotic as it tells of the armada of little boats
heroically snatching the remnants of the British Army out of
the jaws of the Nazis. Churchill's voice booms out of the
wireless.
CHURCHILL (V.0.)
If the British Empire lasts for a
thousand years, men will say, this
was their finest hour.
BRUCE has been horsing around with BILL, and all the time
DAWN devours him with her eyes.
GRACE
Oh, do let's listen to this. I
never tire of listening to it. I
gives me goose pimples.
BRUCE
You haven't been taking your orange
juice.
The insolent sally gives DAWN the excuse to jump on him and
force him on to the sofa and into a respectful silence.
Stirring music punctuates the dramatic narration, which
celebrates the bravery of the soldiers fighting their last
ditch stand. BRUCE giggles.
BRUCE
Don't sound the Dunkirk I was at. I
saw no fighting. We did a lot of
running backwards, though. Then we
got to the beach and we couldn't
run no more. And Jerry just sat
there and let us alone. If he'd
come after us, boy
shakes his head and laughs as though it would have been the
funniest moment of the war.
We were beat so bad, discipline was all to Hell. We told the
soldiers to jump in the briny. There was no grub but we broke
into the wine stores, and everybody got smashed. When the
boats came, a lot of guys threw away their gear and filled
their kitbags with loot. One buddy of mine burst into a
jeweler's, his backpack was full of gold and silver. We had
to wade out to the boats and he was so heavy he couldn't haul
himself up. He slipped and sank like a stone.
He laughs again. The broadcast comes to its moving climax.
GRACE
How can you say such things? Can't
you hear what happened?
BRUCE
I was there.
NARRATOR (V.O.)
God laid his hand upon the waters
and they were still. The armada of
little boats brought their precious
cargo into safe havens. They lived
to fight another day.
BRUCE
He who turns and runs away lives to
fight another day.
The inspiring, patriotic music, Elgar, wells up.
GRACE
I don't care what you say. It
filled our hearts that day. The
little people stood up for once
against the tyrant. Stood up and
said no!
BRUCE impressed, despite himself. DAWN is quite affected too,
by her mother's deep feeling.
GRACE
That's how we put up with the
bombing and the rationing, because
of Dunkirk. Because of the spirit
of Dunkirk, and because of that we
shall never give in, never.
The Elgar continues into:
NEWSREEL
BACK AND WHITE
A shot of troops being ferried from Dunkirk beaches by the
little boats. An open fishing boat is packed with soldiers,
mostly standing, while two men row. The soldiers begin to
sway and 'la-la' to the Elgar soundtrack. They are serious
and sombre, except for one, BRUCE, who is grinning.
SMASH CUT:
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - CHILDREN'S BEDROOM - NIGHT
COLOUR
BILL in bed, smiling and in his sleep.
EXT. DUNKIRK - DAY
Back to BRUCE singing and smiling.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
CLIVE, leather helmet and goggles iced up, rides to the Rohan
House on a Norton motorbike. The street is snow-covered and
the road is covered in brown slush. BILL and SUE run out to
greet him. He dismounts painfully, his huge army greatcoat is
also rimmed with frost. His face is so stiff with cold that
he cannot crack a smile and presents an intimidating figure
to the children, who draw up short. When he speaks, he can
hardly form words. He staggers alarmingly from the stiffness
as he walks, and cramp in one leg makes him hop up and down.
CLIVE
On the bike for five hours. Only
got a thirty-six hour pass.
He holds out his arms. They cower back, then turn on their
heels and scurry into the house, calling their mother.
INT. ROHAN HOUSE - DINING ROOM - NIGHT
CLIVE has changed into civvies and is soaking his feet in a
bowl of hot water. Tea has been laid and the family
assembled. They watch CLIVE warily. They have learned to live
without him and his reappearance has upset the new ballance.
CLIVE
Hand me my backpack, Bill.
BILL hands it to him and CLIVE proudly pulls out an un
labelled can and plants it firmly on the centre of tea table.
GRACE
And what's that?
CLIVE
Jam.
BILL and SUE jump for joy.
BILL AND SUE
(chanting)
Jam! Jam! Jam!
GRACE
Jam? What kind of jam? It's not
like any jam I know.
CLIVE
German jam. It's German jam.
The table falls deathly silent. They stare at the can as
though it was a time bomb.
CLIVE
It's all right. It came from a
German chip. It got sunk, and this
stuff washed ashore, crates of it.
Jam. Our fellows found it on the
beach, by the rifle range.
GRACE picks it up gingerly, turns it, searches the blank
silver-grey metal for a sign, a clue, a portent.
GRACE
We don't know anything about it
CLIVE
Well, it's off ration. We know
that.
GRACE
How do we know they didn't plant it
there? They know we're mad on jam.
They could poison half the country.
CLIVE surveys the suspicious hostile faces. Angrily, he
seizes the can and jabs it clumsily with the paper opener.
GRACE
Come away, children. I don't want
you to stand too close while he's
opening it.
They retreat to the corner of the room. CLIVE has it opened
and bends back the top to reveal a deep-red jam. GRACE
ventures forward and peers at it.
CLIVE
Well?
GRACE
It looks....foreign.
CLIVE
Jam is jam! It's just jam!
DAWN
Well, I'm not having any. Even if
it's not poisoned. I don't think
it's right. It's not patriotic.
BILL
You don't like jam. You hate jam.
You never eat jam.
DAWN
That's not the point.
There is an impasse. They stare at it gloomily. CLIVE waves
grandly at the jam.
CLIVE
Taste it. Why don't you taste it?
GRACE
You taste it.
The eyes turn on CLIVE. The situation forces their resentment
for one who has not shared in their hardships, who abandoned
them, in fact. The jam has become a test. He looks into the
faces of his family. Resolutely, he takes up a teaspoon,
picks up the can and begins to eat. Grimly and steadily he
ladles the jam to his mouth. They watch him carefully for
signs of pain. Before their doubts are dispelled, he has
consumed a third of the can. BILL is the first to crack.
BILL
Give us some, Dad.
CLIVE stops eating, puts the can back on the table and they
all dig in. The tension is dispelled. SUE climbs on CLIVE'S
lap and he feeds her himself. They laugh and chatter and
stuff bread and jam in their mouths.
GRACE
You mean they let you go through
the officer training course and
then said you were too old for a
commission?
CLIVE
That's it.
GRACE
Why didn't they say that before you
started?
CLIVE
I wasn't too old when I started the
course. I was too old when it
finished.
GRACE
What are you going to be then?
CLIVE
A clerk. I'm doing a typing course.
I'll be typing for England.
GRACE goes to him, puts an arm around him.
GRACE
Poor Clive. You wanted it so much.
He looks up at her, beaten, uncomprehending. She kisses him.
GRACE
You're such a baby.
The DOORBELL SOUNDS. DAWN scoots out to answer it.
BILL
It's lovely jam. It's nearly as
nice as English jam.
CLIVE grins, quickly recovered from his bad moment.
CLIVE
You know what I always say? Jam is
jam, the world over.
DAWN reappears with BRUCE. CLIVE darts a querying look at
GRACE. He winces at the sight of his little girl looking up
adorningly at a Canadian soldier.
DAWN
Bruce, this is my father. Dad, this
is Corporal Bruce Carey.
CLIVE laughs awkwardly, outranked.
BILL
Bruce, look! Dad got some German
jam.
SUE
We thought it was poison.
They laugh. BRUCE looks at it with mock suspicion, then
tastes it with his fingertip. His eyes bulge and he clutches
his throat.
BRUCE
The poison was at the bottom.
He falls to the ground in the most agonized convulsions. The
children scream with laughter and jump on top of him.
EXT. ROHAN HOUSE - KITCHEN STEPS - DAY
The kitchen door is open, admitting thin winter sunlight.
GRACE works within. Outside, CLIVE is cleaning his kit,
helped by BILL. Belt and gaiters are balanced and laid out to
dry. CLIVE is sitting on the steps, putting dubbin on his
boots, BILL polishing his father's hat badge, totally
absorbed in its beauty. GRACE appears, outs a hand on CLIVE'S
shoulder, closes her eyes, let's the sun caress her face.
GRACE
When do you think you'll get leave
again?
CLIVE
Not till Christmas, I don't
suppose.
SUE appears and sprawls herself across her father's lap.
CLIVE
I'm glad you didn't send them to
your aunt.
GRACE
I've had a letter from her. They've
moved house.
CLIVE
Where to?
She smiles, eyes still closed.
GRACE
Woolamaloo.
CLIVE splutters with amusement.
CLIVE
Not Woolamaloo?
BILL looks up, grinning.
BILL
Woolamaloo? We would have lived in
Woolamaloo?
CLIVE starts to sing the old music-hall song.
CLIVE
(singing)
W-O-O-L-A-M-A-L-O-O, oo.
Upon my word, it's true.
It's the way to spell
Woolamaloo.
They join in, in a ragged way, knowing it well.
EVERYBODY
(singing)
I bet you a dollar,
There isn't a scholar,
To spell it right first go, O,
W-O-O-L-A-M-A-L-O-O, Loo-O
DAWN comes through the kitchen with MAC and MOLLY, who find
the Rohans in good spirits. There are arm greetings all
round.
EXT. ROSEHILL AVENUE - DAY
BILL is giving his father and MAC a tour of the bomb damage.
He picks his way expertly through the rubble, and they
clamber after him.
CLIVE
What kind of war is this Mac? Up
there in Cumberland, we never see
an air-raid. The worst problem I
have is getting a new typewriter
ribbon. When I rode in against the
Turks, I knew what it was about.
MAC
Did you? You thought you did. We've
been gypsed, all our lives. Look at
your street.
They pause, looking out of a shattered window on the street.
It is a monotonous row of semi-detached houses, lying between
other identical rows, now pocked with bomb damage, drab and
dreary.
CLIVE
What about it?
MAC
Rosehill Avenue. No roses. No hill.
And it's certainly not an avenue.
CLIVE
Why not?
MAC
You need trees for an avenue.
CLIVE
There was talk of planting some
when we first came.
MAC
Propaganda. We've been had.
They fall silent, watching BILL as he greets some other boys.
CLIVE
How's your war, Mac?
MAC
Never done better. On the fiddle.
Like everyone else.
CLIVE
Except the servicemen.
MAC
Naturally.
CLIVE
I don't understand. Is there any
point to it?
MAC
There is all right. This Hitter
fellow. We've got to winkle him
out. And get shot of some of our
lot at the same time.
They watch BILL rooting about in the rubble.
CLIVE
Look at how wild the boy's got. As
for Dawn. Sixteen, going around
with a soldier.
(shakes his head)
Keep and eye on them for me, Mac,
there's a pal. I've made a mess
of it all.
(his voices cracks. A
sob wells up.)
I've been such a bloody fool.
BILL has come up behind them and watches covertly. MAC clasps
CLIVE in his arms.
MAC
You always were, Clive. Steady the
Buffs.
CLIVE
Bugger the Bu