Pearl Harbor Page #5

The Messerschmidt in Rafe's sights breaks apart with the

stream of precise fire he pours into it, its prop flying into

pieces, its disintegration accelerated by its airspeed.

Before it completely comes apart, it explodes.

Rafe goes into another tight turn, to get at them again.

RAFE'S VOICE (LETTER)

It's not easy making friends. Two nights

ago I drank a beer with a couple of the

R.A.F. pilots -- beer's the only thing

here that isn't cold -- and yesterday both

of them got killed...

As Rafe starts another attack we see him in the cockpit, in

the trance of battle, as other Spitfires around him are

getting shot out of the sky...as we --

DISSOLVE TO:

EXT. HOSPITAL - PEARL HARBOR - DAY

Evelyn, receiving the letter at mail call.

She sits on the grass under a palm tree, in paradise, reading

his letter.

RAFE'S VOICE (LETTER)

There is one place I can go to find

warmth, and that is to think of you.

EXT. OUTDOOR RESTAURANT - OAHU - DAY

Evelyn is off duty, and wears a light cotton dress. She's

let her hair down, and her skin has the sheen of light sweat

in the tropical heat.

The restaurant is barely more than a shelter of palm wood

posts with a frond roof, and it looks out over the harbor.

Evelyn sits alone. She's brought writing paper. As the

Hawaiian waiter serves her an icy tropical ambrosia with

chunks of pineapple and a fresh plumeria flower floating at

the rim of the glass, she lifts her pen.

But before she can start to write, three naval officers move

over to her table from the bar. They're out of uniform too,

wearing garish tropical shirts.

NAVY GUY 1

A woman beautiful as you shouldn't be

sitting alone. Buy you a drink?

EVELYN:

Thank you...Ensign.

The guys look at each other, impressed that she could tell.

NAVY GUY 1

Ensign! Smart too!

NAVY GUY 2

So how about that drink? Or dinner?

EVELYN:

Thank you, but...I really want to be

alone right now.

NAVY GUY 3

Want to see something long and hard?

He shows her the tattoo of an anchor on his forearm. Evelyn

looks away from them, toward the harbor.

EVELYN:

I'm sorry. I've got a letter to write.

NAVY GUY 3

Cold b*tch.

His friends start to pull him away, but Evelyn's eyes flare.

EVELYN:

What did you say?

NAVY GUY 3

I said you're cold.

EVELYN:

Cold? No, I'm just thinking about a war.

And maybe you should be too.

They leave, shaking their heads. Evelyn picks up her pen,

and writes.

EVELYN'S VOICE (LETTER)

Dear Rafe... It's strange to be so far

from you in body, and so close to you in

spirit. But if our spirits really give

our bodies life, then you should know

this:
Every night I look at the sunset,

and try to draw the last ounce of heat

from its long day...

She looks toward the sunset now; then she writes again...

EXT. BASSINGBORNE AIRFIELD - BRITAIN - NIGHT

Rafe brings his battered plane in for a landing...

INT. BRITISH AIRFIELD BARRACKS - NIGHT

Rafe sits on his cot, reading her letter.

EVELYN'S VOICE (LETTER)

...and send it from my heart to yours.

Rafe is startled as the Air Commander appears beside his

bunk.

BRITISH AIR COMMANDER

Air-Sea Rescue picked up Nigel. He'll be

back with us tomorrow.

Rafe nods, glad to hear the news. The Commander starts to

walk away, then turns back.

BRITISH AIR COMMANDER

Some of us look down on the Yanks for not

yet joining this war. I'd just like to

say that if there are many more back home

like you, God help anyone who goes to war

with America.

The Commander salutes, with his left hand. And Rafe salutes

too -- with his left hand.

EXT. ESTABLISHING THE WHITE HOUSE - WASHINGTON D.C. - DAY

The White House looks somehow whiter and purer in the glow of

1941.

INT. PRESIDENTIAL CONFERENCE ROOM - DAY

GENERALS, ADMIRALS, and other advisors sit around the

polished table -- all males, in suits and in uniforms. The

door opens, and the men all stand.

PRESIDENT FRANKLIN ROOSEVELT appears, in a wheelchair, pushed

by a huge black valet, GEORGE. The President's legs are

shriveled, braced with the iron supports that attach to his

shoes and are apparent beneath the cloth of his pin-striped

pants. From the waist up Roosevelt is heavily muscled,

powerful, and handsome even in his little spectacles. The

valet rolls him to the head of the table; he's speaking even

before he settles in.

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

Please be seated, gentlemen.

They sit, as one.

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

Churchill and Stalin are asking me what

I'm asking you:
How long is America

going to pretend the world is not at war?

GENERAL MARSHALL

We've increased supply shipments to them,

Mr. President, and we're losing merchant

vessels every day.

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

Shift in every destroyer and anti-

aircraft weapon you can find.

ADMIRAL:

Sir, our Pacific Fleet is already down

to almost nothing.

PRESIDENT ROOSEVELT

Gentlemen, at this moment the nation of

Hungry has a larger military then the

United States. We have no choice but to

draw from whatever we can.

EXT. ESTABLISHING TOKYO - JAPAN - NIGHT

INT. JAPANESE HIGH COMMAND - NIGHT

The Conference Room is similar to that of the White House.

But this table is low and all the men sit on the floor. And

there are no civilians here; Japan is now a nation ruled by

its warriors.

The last man to enter the room and take his place is ADMIRAL

YAMAMOTO. Harvard educated, Yamamoto is an object of

veneration and suspicion among the men of the war council.

Yamamoto bows, sits, and looks across the table at his friend

Genda, who can't hide his fear. Yamamoto glances to the far

end of the table where NISHIKURA, chief of the War Council,

sits glowering. (Their discussion is in Japanese, with

subtitles.)

NISHIKURA:

So you join us, Admiral. Some of us

thought your education at an American

university would make you too weak to

fight the Americans.

YAMAMOTO:

If knowledge of opponents and careful

calculation of danger is taken as

weakness then I have misunderstood what

it means to be Japanese.

NISHIKURA:

The time has come to strike! Or to sit

and let the Americans cut off our oil and

our future. I know what you whisper to

the others, Yamamoto -- that the Americans

are strong. Yet look at their leader.

He motions to OYAMA, an intelligence analyst, who opens a

file and lays out pictures of Roosevelt.

OYAMA:

Franklin Roosevelt. Born into great

wealth. Fifteen years ago, he was

stricken with polio. Now he cannot walk,

or even stand without help.

Photographers will not take pictures of

him in his chair; Americans do not wish

to know how weak their President is.

Yamamoto makes a low grunt.

NISHIKURA:

You have something to say, Yamamoto?

YAMAMOTO:

The Council knows I have opposed fighting

the Americans. No matter how great our

resolve, they have resources beyond ours.

If we must go to war, there is only one

way -- deal them a blow from which it will

take them years to recover. In that time

we can conquer all of the Pacific, and

they will have no choice but to ask for

peace.

NISHIKURA:

You see us as capable of such a blow?

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