Taking Sides Page #2

He nods to the projectionist, then starts to go, but stops.

WALLACE:

Oh, one thing that may be a problem.

Our Occupation Authorities in

Wiesbaden have a duty to help these

poor unfortunates with their

defence. They keep repeating: 'We

must be just, we must be seen to

be just.' Well, I've only one thing

to say to the liberals in Wiesbaden:

f*** 'em.

(as he goes)

You answer to no one but me. Is

that understood?

(to the projectionist

in the door)

Show him the film.

PROJECTIONIST:

Yes, sir. Roll it.

Wallace goes. The projectionist starts the next reel.

ON THE SCREEN:
a Berlin sequence. Bombs falling. Ruins, a

city devastated, empty. Flags of the four allied nations.

Posters of Truman, Stalin, Churchill.

ARCHIVE FILM VOICE

That is the hand that dropped the

bombs on defenceless Rotterdam,

Brussels, Belgrade. That is the

hand that destroyed the cities,

villages and homes of Russia. That

is the hand that held the whip

over the Polish, Yugoslav, French

and Norwegian slaves. That is the

hand that took their food.

Steve watches expressionless.

WALLACE:

Next reel, please.

ON THE SCREEN:
SHOTS of camp survivors. Then SHOTS of

emaciated corpses being bulldozed into mass graves.

ARCHIVE FILM:

Sanitary conditions were so

appalling that heavy equipment had

to be brought in to speed the work

of cleaning up. This was Bergen

Belsen.

The moment this appears, Steve rises and goes quickly.

ON THE SCREEN:
piles of cadavers.

INT. MAJOR STEVE ARNOLD'S BEDROOM (I945) - NIGHT

Steve having a nightmare, twisting, turning, moaning. He

wakes with a cry. He is sweating. He turns on the light,

looks at a clock, reaches for a cigarette, lights it. He

smokes. He stares at the ceiling.

Later:

Early morning. Cold. Steve is at the basin in his small

room, shaving. A radio on a shelf.

AMERICAN RADIO VOICE

Remember, men, no fraternisation.

In a German town, if you bow to a

pretty girl or pat a blond child,

you bow to all that Hitler stood

for. You bow to his reign of blood.

You caress the ideology that meant

death and destruction. You never

know who was a member of the Nazi

Party. Don't be fooled. Don't

fraternise.

EXT. STEVE'S OFFICE BUILDING, BERLIN - DAY

Steve's car swerves round the corner and comes to a halt.

A small crowd watch workmen on ladders hammering away at a

stone swastika above the portico. American soldiers

supervise. Steve gets out of the car, carrying an attache

case, and he, too, watches as the stone swastika falls and

crashes into pieces on the road. One or two people clap,

most just stare.

The American soldiers immediately hoist the Stars and

Stripes. Steve goes into the building. The sentry salutes.

The driver of the car goes to the trunk and takes out a

labelled duffel bag, cans of film, a case which holds a 16-

mm projector. A small BOY sidles up to him:

BOY:

Cigarettes, chewing gum?

INT. WAITING ROOM - DAY

Steve and Sergeant Adams ascending a grand, winding but

damaged staircase to the rear of a spacious entrance hall.

A once impressive building. Signs of bomb damage everywhere.

German workmen doing repairs. American military personnel

coming and going, saluting Steve, who barely acknowledges

them.

They reach the landing. Adams opens double doors and they

go through.

ADAMS:

We're gonna have the heating fixed

by tonight.

A few gilt chairs, a workman trying to repair the stove.

Adams opens another door for Steve.

INT. STEVE S OFFICE - DAY

EMMI is hanging the standard photograph of President Truman

on the wall. She turns to see Steve and Adams and is covered

with confusion. She gives Steve a little curtsey.

ADAMS:

Fräulein, this is Major Arnold.

Sir, this is your secretary,

Fräulein Emmi Straube. Her file's

on your desk. They sent her over

from Admin. I'll leave you to it.

He goes. Steve scrutinises Emmi. She's embarrassed, keeps

her eyes downcast. Steve goes to his desk, opens a file,

reads.

STEVE:

You live here, in Berlin?

EMMI:

Yes.

STEVE:

You do shorthand and typing?

EMMI:

Yes.

He nods, goes on reading.

STEVE:

Okay, let's see. How long were you

in the camp for?

EMMI:

Three months.

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