Schindler's List Page #4

PFEFFERBERG:

Write down your measurements.

As he writes down the information, Pfefferberg glances to

the desk clerk and offers a shrug. As he writes --

SCHINDLER:

I'm going to need some other things.

As things come up.

EXT. GARDEN - SCHERNER'S RESIDENCE - CRACOW - DAY

As Oberfuhrer Scherner and his daughter, in a wedding gown,

dance to the music of a quartet on a bandstand, the reception

guests drink and eat at tables set up on an expansive lawn.

CZURDA:

The SS doesn't own the trains,

somebody's got to pay. Whether it's

a passenger car or a livestock car,

it doesn't matter -- which, by the

way, you have to see. You have to

set aside an afternoon, go down to

the station and see this.

Other SS and Army officers share the table with Czurda.

Schindler, too, nice blue shirt, jacket, only he doesn't

seem to be paying attention; rather his attention and

affections are directed to the blonde next to him, Ingrid.

CZURDA:

So you got thousands of fares that

have to be paid. Since it's the SS

that's reserved the trains, logically

they should pay. But this is a lot

of money.

(pause)

The Jews. They're the ones riding

the trains, they should pay. So you

got Jews paying their own fares to

ride on cattle cars to God knows

where. They pay the SS full fare,

the SS turns around, pays the railroad

a reduced excursion fare, and pockets

the difference.

He shrugs, There you have it. Brilliant. He glances off,

sees something odd across the yard. Two horses, saddled-up,

being led into the garden by a stable boy.

SCHINDLER:

(to Ingrid)

Excuse me.

Schindler gets up from the table. Scherner, his wife and

daughter and son-in-law stare at the horses; they're

beautiful.

Schindler appears, takes the reins from the stable boy, hands

one set to the bride and the other to the groom.

SCHINDLER:

There's nothing more sacred than

marriage. No happier an occasion

than one's wedding day. I wish you

all the best.

Scherner hails a photographer. As the guy comes over with

his camera, so does just about everybody else. Scherner

insists Schindler pose with the astonished bride and groom.

Big smiles. Flash.

INT. STOREFRONT - CRACOW - DAY

A neighborhood place. Bread, pastries, couple of tables. At

one sits owner and a well-dressed man in his seventies, Max

Redlicht.

OWNER:

I go to the bank, I go in, they tell

me my account's been placed in Trust.

In Trust? What are they talking about,

whose Trust? The Germans'. I look

around. Now I see that everybody's

arguing, they can't get to their

money either.

MAX REDLICHT:

This is true?

OWNER:

I'll take you there.

Max looks at the man not without sympathy. He's never heard

of such a thing. It's really a bad deal. But then --

MAX REDLICHT:

Let me understand. The Nazis have

taken your money. So because they've

done this to you, you expect me to

go unpaid. That's what you're saying.

The owner of the place just stares at Redlicht.

MAX REDLICHT:

That makes sense to you?

The man doesn't answer. He watches Max get up and cross to

the front door where he says something to two of his guys

and leaves. The guys come in and start carting out anything

of any value:
cash register, a chair, a loaf of bread...

EXT. CRACOW STREET - DAY

Max strolls along the sidewalk, browsing in store windows.

People inside and out nod hello, but they despise him, they

fear him.

Just as he's passing a synagogue, some men in long overcoats

cross the street. Einsatzgruppen, they are an elite and wild

bunch, one of six Special Chivalrous Duty squads assigned to

Cracow.

INT. STARAR BOZNICA SYNAGOGUE - SAME TIME - DAY

The Sabbath prayers of a congregation of Orthodox Jews are

interrupted by a commotion at the rear of the ancient temple.

Several non-Orthodox Jews from the street, including Max

Redlicht, are being herded inside by the Einsatz Boys.

They're made to stand before the Ark in two lines: Orthodox

and non. One of the Einsatzgruppen squad removes the parchment

Torah scroll while another calmly addresses the assembly:

EINSATZ NCO:

I want you to spit on it. I want you

to walk past, spit on it, and stand

over there.

No one does anything for a moment. The liberals from the

street seem to say with their eyes, Come on, we're all too

sophisticated for this; the others, with the beards and

sidelocks, silently check with their rabbi.

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