My Boy Jack Page #2

...as compared to spectacles.

If the army is desperate for recruits,

they won't mind a pair of specs.

It doesn't suit me.

Yes, it does.

- Does it?

I think...

- It's good.

Now, I wonder...

...if you shouldn't brush your hair

back away from the face.

You've got a high forehead,

it'd be a shame to waste it.

What's a high forehead

got to do with it?

It's a sign of intelligence.

- It can't be.

I'm assured it is.

- No, it's too loose, I'm not wearing it.

CARRIE:
Will it really make

a difference to his chances?

It's a medical, not a costume parade.

Jack, I'm sure you're going

to sail into the army,

but your eyes are a serious issue...

...and the overall impression

will be vital.

You've got to take a big pull

on yourself and really dig out.

Now...

...see if that's a snugger fit.

Better?

- Probably.

Good. Have a stroll round the room,

see how it feels.

I'm not wearing it.

Jack.

You'll do more harm than good.

- He is not a boy, he is a young man.

If you continue to pamper him,

he will turn into something altogether

weak and watery.

Well, if he's a young man, he's

old enough to make his own decisions.

This is absolutely his own decision,

but I want him to make the most of...

You want.

For his sake. It's Jack's future.

Precisely.

- No, I'm not going to argue, Carrie.

Rud, his eyes are not an excuse.

The navy gave him five minutes.

Do you really think it's fair

to encourage him?

I would think it very unfair

if I didn't.

Breathe in.

And out.

This shouldn't take long,

it's all standard stuff.

A quick look at the ears.

I've always wondered, Kipling...

- Other ear.

...how on earth

do you think up the story?

Well, inventing the story

isn't the problem.

It's putting the jigsaw together

afterwards that can be troublesome.

Pants down, please.

Ah, it's the structure

that's a bit tricky, is it?

My son's just polished off

the Jungle Books.

Absolutely loved them. Cough.

I suppose you've read

all your father's books?

I've never read the Jungle Books.

- I don't believe it.

Cough again.

Jolly good. Pants up.

Clean bill of health?

- Yes, fighting fit.

Just the eye test and we can relax.

Spectacles off.

- It's a pince-nez, actually.

From the top, off you go.

I can't see anything, I'm afraid.

Nothing?

Would you walk towards the board...

...and stop when you can clearly read

the top letter?

T, Q, U.

And the next line.

Y, O, w.

This is very serious myopia,

we couldn't possibly...

There are very strict guidelines.

- I think Colonel Brooks would agree,

we were prepared to stretch a point.

BROOKS:
Indeed,

but there has to be a limit.

If he lost his spectacles,

he'd be a danger to himself.

And to his men.

I'm very sorry.

- So am I.

You haven't given the boy a chance.

It's precisely the sort of inflexibility...

...this country needs

to get out of its system.

John has so much to offer.

It's a great shame.

I agree. I do agree.

Well, clearly you don't

or we'd be looking for a way forward.

Nothing you can do? Hmm?

Well, I'm not calling it a day,

I shall write.

I think it's utterly gutless.

It's so spineless.

Come on, John. We're off.

My son's commitment is second to none.

He deserves this opportunity

and he will get it.

Jack.

Jack.

I'm sorry.

No, you're not,

you're absolutely delighted.

Best beloved brother.

Bird.

They turned me down.

- I guessed.

Can I have a puff?

Don't you hate this room?

There's not one comfortable chair

in the whole bloody building.

It's true.

- I have to get out of this house.

I can't bear it.

I can't bear being geed up

and encouraged.

Better than being criticised.

- No, it's not.

You see, you don't understand,

I have to be with other people.

Oh, thank you.

- No, not you.

I don't want to leave you. I just...

I want to be myself, that's all.

Oh, let's stop this, it's boring.

Shall we have a whisky?

- Why not?

What shall we drink to?

Us.

Best beloved sister.

- Best beloved brother.

Don't you dare leave me alone,

all right?

Promise me you won't.

RUDYARD:
Jack?

It's very dark in here.

I suppose it is.

No need to be despondent about today.

I'm not giving up.

I can join the ranks.

- Well, hold your horses.

I'll do whatever it takes, Dad, I...

- There are other avenues we can explore.

What other avenues?

What can you do now?

No, I'm going to join the ranks.

Don't jump the gun.

- I'm not jumping the gun.

What a stupid phrase that is.

- Jack, let me look into it first.

If that doesn't work,

we'll consider your option.

All right?

I'm thrilled you're so keen.

And terribly proud.

We'll get there.

So...

Hold on, old man.

Very solemn.

You will put out that cigarette

before you go up, won't you?

Nobody supports the war

more passionately than I do,

you know that,

but we've pushed him far enough.

He feels he's failed.

Talk to Ferguson at the war Office.

There must be a job there

which would make him feel valued,

and he'd be working with others

in the same situation.

He wouldn't be so alone.

It'd be clerical.

- Well, if it has to be.

Will you do that for me? Please?

I must go.

Thank you.

I have the British casualty figures...

...for the first day of the battle

for Aubers Ridge.

Four hundred and fifty-eight officers,

and eleven thousand, one hundred

and sixty-one men.

On the first day?

I'm afraid so.

- I can't announce that to the House.

The effect on morale

would be disastrous.

This is precisely the kind of issue

the Prime Minister wants us to tackle.

If our brief is to tell the truth,

but a truth which is bearable

to the British people,

do we dilute the figures?

- I think we have to.

Or do we camouflage them

by emphasising the scale of the victory?

Assuming, that is,

that our troops took Aubers Ridge?

I'm afraid they didn't.

No, people should hear the truth.

These figures will wake up

every young man...

...who's sitting at home,

twiddling his thumbs.

He will read these...

...and know his duty is to the men

who've already sacrificed their lives.

More effective

than any recruiting speech.

Publish the figures in the Times,

I'll come up with some words

to accompany them.

Good morning, sir.

Field Marshal Roberts is expecting you.

Thank you.

The Boers taught us a simple lesson.

In modern warfare,

there are three vital ingredients.

Speed, surprise and variety.

So what do we do?

We give the Hun plenty of warning,

we load our boys up

like Christmas trees,

and we forbid them to run.

Recipe for disaster.

What can I do for you, Kipling?

Bobs, I've come to ask a favour.

Hello, Jack. Good to see you.

- Good to see you, Ralph.

I got you a pint.

- Oh, thanks.

God, I'm looking forward to this.

Cheerio.

So how's Sandhurst?

- Splendid, really splendid.

Hard work, but the spirit is wonderful.

We can't wait to get to France.

- When would you go?

I join my regiment next week,

so, soon, I hope.

Why the delay with you?

Oh, it's nothing.

There are one or two issues.

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