My Boy Jack Page #5

the Battle of Loos.

I don't want you to feel...

- Not at all. No.

I still have

a very hazy view of the facts.

I'd appreciate a more detailed picture.

Carry on, please.

Please.

The British bombardment was ineffective,

and we ran out of shells

after 90 minutes.

German machine-gun

posts were undamaged.

385 officers and 7,861 men were killed

or wounded in the first attack.

The Germans already refer to the battle

as 'The Field of Corpses'.

A further 600 Irish and Scots Guards

were declared missing, believed wounded.

A substantial number of British troops

were taken prisoner.

We are investigating reports...

...that these prisoners are being treated

in an inhumane manner.

However, in some places,

up to 2,000 yards of enemy territory

was taken.

In spite of the cost,

Loos was a victory.

I've had a good day, a good day.

Would you like to hear

what I've achieved?

Yes, please.

I have arranged meetings at the

Irish Guard Depot and Swiss Red Cross.

Mmm-hmm.

- And I have written to the war Office,

and five hospitals I know

that have wards of wounded troops.

What do you think?

- Excellent.

And I have written you a list of people...

...that I think you should contact

to speed things up.

You used your influence

to get Jack into the army,

you can use your influence

to find him now.

I'm going to the post office.

We have more than 4,000 photographs

of prisoners in German hands.

Could you send us a copy of those?

All of them?

- We'll only need the recent ones.

No, I'd like to see all of them, please.

Thank you so much for your time.

HAYDEN:
One shouldn't necessarily

expect the worst.

All the information we're receiving

about the battle...

...points to a deal of confusion.

I'd like to contact you

on a daily basis.

We'll get in touch with you

if there's any news.

No, I'd like to do it.

What would be the best time

to telephone?

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

- No.

We'll go through them once again.

Let's do them tomorrow.

- I'll check them once again.

Let's do them tomorrow,

we need to sleep.

Go to bed, then.

All right, come on.

We'll check them again.

No, not if you're going to huff

and puff. I'd rather do it on my own.

Carrie, we'll check them again.

Pass me a photograph.

No.

- No.

No.

No.

No.

No.

You work long hours.

- Look.

That is the cleanest motorcycle

I have ever seen.

How long did it take?

- All afternoon.

I'm not surprised.

Does your mother know you're here?

- Yes.

Let's have a cup of tea

and I'll walk you home.

Can we have a story?

Good idea.

This is a tale of Captain Jack Kipling...

...and Lieutenant Peter Carter, that's you,

of the Bengal Lancers.

Finest cavalry officers

of their generation.

Straight-backed, tight-kneed, keen-eyed.

They patrol the Grand Trunk Road.

Have you heard of that great road?

- No.

It is the longest road in India.

The backbone of all Hindustan.

Fifteen hundred miles,

and straight as a ruler.

All castes and kinds of men move here.

It is a river of life.

All the world, going and coming.

But all the world stops...

...to watch Lieutenant Peter Carter...

...and...

And...

And Captain Jack Kipling...

...trot by.

Is Jack dead?

Not certain, old man.

Not certain at all.

Not even sure he should have gone

in the first place.

CARRIE:
One more tiny question.

Where did you see him?

Was it the southern end

or the northern end of Chalk Pit wood?

It's difficult to be precise.

- Let me help you.

Carrie.

- Just a minute, Rud.

At the southern end there's a large pond...

...between the edge of the wood

and the chalk escarpment.

Now in order to circle the wood,

you have to pass the pond.

Does that ring a bell?

It does, yes.

I definitely passed a pond.

Well, that's very useful.

Thank you, Captain Bruce,

you've been incredibly helpful.

I'm delighted to have been some use.

- Oh, you definitely have.

Let me find my daughter

and she'll show you out.

Thank you.

Right through here.

Tired.

Tired to the tiredest degree.

Rud, that is very encouraging.

- It is not encouraging.

It is not encouraging because

Bruce saw Jack at half past three.

We already have at least three sightings

of Jack alive an hour and a half later.

So fascinating though Bruce's account

is, it is utterly, utterly irrelevant.

It is not irrelevant.

I need to get the whole picture.

We've got the whole bloody picture,

that's the point.

You've given up hope.

No, I haven't. I haven't at all. But...

One more sighting, early in the battle,

does not constitute proof

that he is alive.

It's something.

Oh, I'd like a cigarette.

- Well, that won't help.

Have you hidden them?

- I threw them away.

Oh.

I know.

Not mine, Jack's.

I found them ages ago.

He should have chosen another author.

I'm always dipping into Trollope.

May I see?

Allah be praised.

That is exactly why you shouldn't smoke.

Fouler than foul.

I'll find you, Jack.

We will.

Can I help you?

Is this the home

of Lieutenant John Kipling?

I recognise you from the pictures,

of course.

The men are after singing your verses

at the front, did you know that?

That's very flattering.

I believe you knew my son?

Very gentle.

Very kind.

What was your platoon?

Guardsman Michael Bowe, 7786.

5th Platoon, 2 Company,

2nd Battalion, Irish Guards.

So my son was your Platoon Commander?

He was always worried about me feet.

- Your feet?

He powdered them

the day before we went over.

They were in a dreadful state

on account of the rain.

CARRIE:
Was it raining?

Was it raining on the day?

Just a minute.

- On the day with Jack, was it raining?

Carrie, please.

Mr Bowe, we have been interviewing

Irish Guards every day for many months.

You are the first soldier I have met

from my son's platoon.

If you know something, anything,

that will help us,

we would be very grateful.

To know, one way or the other,

would be a great release

for the whole family.

Please.

Please.

Do you know what I see

when I go over the top?

RUDYARD:
What?

A game of football.

The next regiment's attacking the Boche

with their rifles shouldered,

dribbling a ball across no man's land.

And there's a bloke striding out

with a walking stick.

Like a gent

on a Sunday jaunt in Phoenix Park.

The bullets are all around me...

...like bees.

A swarm of angry bees

buzzing and racing past me ear.

Jimmy Doyle on one side,

the Lieutenant on the other.

Jimmy goes down.

And I'm shouting,

'we're the only two left, sir.'

My lungs are bursting, but we make it

into Jerry's frontline trench.

And I'm lying there,

trying to breathe.

Lying... Lying on top...

God. God.

God.

No.

Bowe.

Stay close.

Halt.

- Sorry, sir.

We can't take that, sir.

- That, McHugh, is why we are here.

We are to attack and destroy

the machine-gun post on Puits bis 14.

I'm not f***ing going anywhere.

- You are, we all are.

You're a murderer.

You're a f***ing murderer.

I'm not a murderer, McHugh,

I'm obeying orders.

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