Beneath Hill 60

(GENTLE MUSIC)

(DRAMATIC MUSIC)

(FOOTSTEPS APPROACH)

(MAN BREATHES HEAVILY)

(CONTINUES BREATHING HEAVILY)

(DISTANT CLATTERING)

(SCRAPING AND CLATTERING)

(MAN GROANS)

Dad... Dad!

(WHISPERS) Lieutenant Woodward.

I'm your new commanding officer.

I'm looking for Sergeant Simpson.

You'll need to talk to Corporal

Fraser. He's up top.

I can't seem to find my way out.

Follow the lateral. 30 yards on,

it forks. Take the right.

It's pretty narrow but you'll make

it.

You'll find a shaft. Left at the top.

that'll take you up to daylight.

Thank you.

VOICE:
(WHISPERED) Psst.

What's your name, sapper?

Tiffin, sir.

I heard something - just through

there.

TIFFIN:
Hear that?

Listen.

You can hear 'em digging, sir.

- (MUFFLED TAPPING)

- There. Fritz.

They're gonna break through.

I swear to God,

they're bloody breaking through.

Shh, shh!

That sound that you heard,

was it like this?

(TAPS TWICE RAPIDLY

AND REPEATS)

That's it.

That's your heart.

What?

Feel it.

You're hearing your own heartbeat.

(BIRD TWEETS)

Make sure you clip

that little fella's claws.

Otherwise the bugger can be dead

and still sitting on its perch.

(BIRD TWEETS)

When does your shift end?

- Don't make me stay.

- (TWEETS)

Please.

(SAWING)

We'll put the billiard room

through there, eh?

You ever play billiards, Tom?

(DISTANT SHOUTING)

Best bloody billiard players

in the world, Australians.

- Says who?

- Well, ask anyone.

Best billiard players,

best horsemen, miners...

Bullshitters?

Keep a lid on it, you blokes.

Percy, Ginger, go down

and relieve the Sneddons.

Righto.

Dug through to China by now.

Well, I'll bring you back

some chopsticks, then, eh?

(CHUCKLES)

(DISTANT SHOUTING CONTINUES)

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(SHOUTING CONTINUES)

(BIRD TWEETS)

Who are you?

I'm Lieutenant Woodward.

I'm your new C.O.

WOODWARD:
Are you Fraser?

I'm looking for Sergeant Simpson.

He's dead.

Sapper?

Norm Morris, sir.

Except we call him Pull Through'

or sometimes His Lankiness'.

- Tom Dwyer, sir.

- Billy Bacon, sir.

- Answers to Streaky'.

- (LAUGHS)

Morris, I want you to take over

the listening post at...

Where were we?

WOODWARD:
102 drive left.

Sir.

WOODWARD:
Better go with him,

Dwyer.

Sir.

(BIRD TWEETS)

Show me to the officers' dugout.

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(ARTILLERY SHELL WHISTLES)

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(ARTILLERY SHELL WHISTLES)

- (EXPLOSION)

- (MAN CRIES OUT)

(BOMBARDMENT CONTINUES)

TIFFIN:
Sir. Sir! It's this way.

- (EXPLOSION)

- MAN:
10 more gone.

- Three, two...

- (ARTILLERY SHELL WHISTLES)

(EXPLOSION)

- MAN:
Make way! Make way.

- MAN 2:
Keep your head down.

MAN:
Walking wounded and blind.

Make way.

(GUNSHOTS AND BOMBARDMEN CONTINUE)

MAN:
Come on, move! Move!

Walking wounded and blind.

- MAN 2:
Here you go.

- MAN:
Make way.

Come on, sir.

(ARTILLERY SHELL WHISTLES)

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(MEN BELLOW IN PAIN)

(PANICKED VOICES OVERLAP)

MAN:
(YELLS) Stretcher bearer!

(SHRIEKS IN PAIN)

(CONTINUES SHRIEKING)

(BOMBARDMENT INTENSIFIES)

(TIFFIN WAILS)

SOLDIER:
Forward!

(MACHINE-GUN FIRE)

(SHELL EXPLODES)

TIFFIN:
Oh! Oh!

Tiffin! Hey, get up!

Get up.

- (GASPS)

- Come on, son.

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(TIFFIN BREATHES RAPIDLY)

(UPPER-CLASS BRITISH ACCENT)

For God's sake, Australia.

This is an officer's dugout.

Woodward?

Bill McBride. I was wondering

when I'd see you here.

Went to mining school together.

Charters Towers boys.

Bob Clayton, Northumberland

Fusiliers.

Oliver Woodward,

An explosive man, right, Woody?

Could blow up at any time. (LAUGHS)

(TIFFIN CRIES OUT)

McBRIDE:
How long you been here?

Two days. It feels like a year.

CLAYTON:
And if you survive a year,

it will feel like a bloody lifetime.

(TIFFIN SOBS QUIETLY)

WOODWARD:
We nearly came a-gutser.

A Fritz machine gunner

got a bead on us.

Yeah, it's Boris. It's a farm

building.

They call it the Red House.

CLAYTON:
Solid as bloody Gibraltar.

Our artillery's been blasting

away at it for a week.

Well, a direct hit'd

make a bloody difference.

- (BOMBARDMENT CONTINUES)

- TIFFIN:
Arggh!

(CRIES LOUDLY)

They have their own dugouts, you

know.

A bit of air will see him right.

You got a home, son?

Wollongong, sir.

Coal miner?

- Gold, right?

- Silver, lead. Broken Hill.

- (LOUD EXPLOSION)

- (TIFFIN SOBS)

Sweetheart?

Wife.

Wife?

Sweetheart.

You got a photograph, Tiffin?

She's, um...

TIFFIN:
My mum, sir.

(McBRIDE LAUGHS)

(McBRIDE AND WOODWARD LAUGH)

You're not even real soldiers, are

you?

I mean, what in God's name

are you doing here?

Tunnelling under German lines.

Protecting your trenches.

- CLAYTON:
From?

- WOODWARD:
German tunnellers.

CLAYTON:
Who didn't show up

until you arrived

and who are now attempting to do

the exact same bloody thing.

Your point being?

That it was bad enough

my men being shelled from above

and shot at from in front.

Now they're being mined

from underneath.

(TIFFIN CRIES)

If the man is wounded, Woodward,

then for Christ's sake send him

to the dressing station.

If he's not, then he should be

back on duty.

Either way, he shouldn't be here.

If you want my opinion,

neither should you.

(TIFFIN CONTINUES CRYING)

Good to feel wanted, eh, Tiffin?

Wouldn't like to think we were over

here

putting our arses on the line

for nothing.

Clayton's alright. He's just got

the wind up him, that's all.

Hides it well.

People do.

Seems a shame to waste this.

(SHELL EXPLODES)

(CRIES OUT)

(IMITATES CLAYTON)

Spot of tea, old man?

(CHUCKLES) Oh, rather!

- (EXPLOSION)

- (CRIES) Mama!

It's alright, Tiffin. It's alright,

son.

(CICADAS HUM)

(WHIP BIRD CALLS)

Hello? Is anybody home?

I found these two little rascals

down by the creek.

They don't belong to you, do they?

Oliver, is that you?

Mrs Waddell.

Colin, Gordon, round the back.

Clean yourselves up before

your father gets home. Now, please.

BOY:
(FAINTLY) Hey, hey, wait.

That's not fair!

I was hoping I might catch Moffat.

Ah. Well, you're too late,

I'm afraid. He's joined up.

Light Horse?

MRS WADDELL:
Of course.

How was Papua? You know, we thought

the headhunters might have got you.

They took one look at my head

and ran away.

(LAUGHS)

Tell you something, though, Mrs

Waddell,

I could have stayed there forever.

Just... why don't you put the nag

in the stable and come inside?

We want to hear all your stories.

WOODWARD:
Come on, mate.

Is that you, Isabel?

- MR WADDELL:
He's a major now.

- WOODWARD:
Not surprised.

At school, we called him Captain'.

- He was captain of everything.

- (LAUGHS)

And were there complaints?

- No, sir.

- No.

- We wouldn't dare.

- Well, that's our Moffat.

- Woody, Woody, Woody!

- Yes?

Gordon reckons he can hold his breath

for one minute and thirteen seconds.

- Can he really?

- Watch.

One, two, three, four, five,

six, seven, eight, nine, ten...

Where's he posted now.

Well, we don't know. Egypt, we think.

...sixteen, seventeen...

It'll be the engineers for you,

now, I'd imagine.

I'd hate to think I wasted my time

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