Testament of Youth Page #16

129 INT. DORMITORY, CAMBERWELL - NIGHT 129

Vera is fast asleep in her narrow bed when there’s a sudden

pounding at the door. Vera and Betty both sit up with a

start.

VOICE OUTSIDE:

Brittain! You’re wanted!

130 INT. BIG WARD, 1ST LONDON GENERAL - DAWN 130

Vera hurries into the ward, looking for Victor. She sees

his bed has been curtained off. A Nurse - SISTER ELIOT -

sees her and steps over.

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SISTER ELIOT:

He called for us about an hour

ago, said there was a loud

clicking noise in his head.

Vera pulls back the curtain - sees Victor lying in bed,

dead.

SISTER ELIOT:

It was very quick. I’m sorry.

Vera nods, sinks into a chair by the bed. Sister Eliot

pulls the curtain closed and leaves her. Victor’s peaceful

in death, his hands folded across his chest, that shrunken,

child-like look accentuated.

Vera gazes at him....

131 EXT. TRENCH, FRANCE - DAY 131

The hollow FACES of young tommies, standing in a trench,

waiting silently to go over the top.

One smokes, another nervously bites his lip, another’s gaze

is vacant...we come to Edward, his hair greying at the

temples - remembering he’s still only 20 - the truth of War

etched on his face.

EDWARD’S VOICE

I’m so glad you were near, and saw

him so nearly at the end. We share

a memory of both of them, dear

Vera, that is worth all the rest of

the world, and the sun of that

memory never sets. And you know

that I love you, that I would do

anything in the world in my power

should you ask it, and that I am

your servant as well as your

brother. (Pause) Edward.

132 INT. LIVING ROOM, MELROSE - DAY (WINTER) 132

Vera, composed and pale, sits opposite her parents.

VERA:

My mind’s made up.

MRS. BRITTAIN

But France, the front, it’s so

dangerous!

VERA:

I’ll be behind the lines. It’s as

close to Edward as I can get, I

need to be there.

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Mrs. Brittain, agitated, gets up and fetches some gifts -

jars of jam and cream, some rollers.

MRS. BRITTAIN

I’ve been gathering some things

for you, I suppose you can take

them to France too. There’s so

little available now, but - cook’s

last jar...

She puts down some jam.

MRS. BRITTAIN

Damson.

Vera sighs, exasperated.

As Mrs. Brittain moves off again, Mr Brittain touches Vera’s

hand - his expression asking for her understanding....

Mrs. Brittain comes back with more things.

MRS. BRITTAIN

Some rollers for your hair...and

cream. It’ll help stop your hands

chapping. And don’t forget those

poor elbows, it’s easily done.

A beat. Vera reaches out, takes her mother’s hand.

VERA:

I’ll make sure I use it. And I’ll

write every day, I promise.

Mrs Brittain nods, trying to be alright. Mr. Brittain’s eyes

glimmer with admiration for her.

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MR. BRITTAIN

Why was I ever disappointed you

weren’t a boy?

They share a smile.

133 INT. ARMY LORRY, ETAPLES MILITARY BASE, FRANCE - DAY 133

Vera, in her VAD uniform, sits in a crowded army lorry as

it pulls into Etaples military base. It’s raining outside.

Through the window, she sees wounded men on stretchers

carried past, army personnel and nurses hurrying along, red

cross vehicles rumbling by. Some Chinese labourers are

building a new hut, shouting to each other in Chinese. Her

fellow passengers, all army personnel, leap up and bustle

out.

Vera gets to her feet, takes hold of her suitcase and

climbs out. Her feet immediately sink into the MUD of

Norther France. From somewhere comes the distant sound of

song. It’s soldiers singing: “Good bye-eee, Don’t Cry-eee,

Wipe the tear, Baby dear, from your eye-eee...”

As the army lorry departs, the sight that greets her is

deslotate - mud, rain, and a warren of makeshift wood and tin

huts.

134 EXT. ETAPLES - SECONDS LATER 134

A wet Vera enters a small courtyard of huts, her feet

sinking into a quagmire of mud.

Then she sees him - outside one of the huts, a shellshocked

Tommy, wrapped in an old army blanket, standing there

shivering and soaked. The look in his eyes cuts right through

her. Two nurses emerge to encourage him back inside, but he

seems not to hear them.

Vera sees a young VAD, Dorothy, pass, and approaches her,

showing her a piece of paper.

VERA:

Excuse me, I’m to report to C

section.

Dorothy looks at the paper, points.

DOROTHY:

That hut there. (grimace) You’re

under Sister Milroy - good luck.

And with that, she’s gone.

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135 EXT. HUTS, ETAPLES MILITARY BASE - LATER 135

Vera, now drenched with rain, has found Hope Milroy and is

following her as she strides along between huts. Young,

vivacious, Hope has a clipped manner and a reputation as an

eccentric.

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HOPE:

There’s about thirty men to a

hut, some of them are an absolute

mess -

She turns to Vera with a bright smile, opens the door to a

tin hut.

HOPE (CONT’D)

They’re supposed to pass through

the clearing stations, but that’s

not saying much anymore.

She steps aside to allow Vera to enter.

136 INT. GERMAN HUT, ETAPLES BASE - CONTINUOUS 136

Vera walks in to discover a hut crammed full of thirty men.

Some groan with pain, others are unconscious. Their wounds

are visibly dreadful.

Hope leads Vera through them, talking in a loud voice. A

few of the soldiers follow them with large, expressive

eyes. Hope gestures to a door at the far end.

HOPE (CONT’D)

The theatre’s through there.

We’re short on everything,

including surgeons.

She steps over to one patient, who is unconscious, with a

bandaged arm stump.

HOPE (CONT’D)

Had to saw this chappie’s arm off

myself yesterday, quite a job.

Vera looks horrified.

HOPE (CONT’D)

Not ideal, of course, but then -

(beaming) this is War.

A voice calls out.

WOUNDED SOLDIER:

Schwester! Wasser, wasser bitte!

Vera spins round, startled. The man, very sick and weak, is

looking at them. Vera’s face - as she realises her patients

are Germans. Hope sees.

HOPE:

Oh, didn’t I mention? This lot

are Huns. I find it best to

number them, myself, much

quicker.

(MORE)

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HOPE (cont'd)

First Hun, second, third, fourth.

Ah, (lowering her voice) keep an

eye on fourth, he’s only got a

few hours left.

Vera’s reeling. ‘Fourth’ is the wounded soldier who cried

out.

WOUNDED SOLDIER:

Ich sterbe! Hasst du kein hertz?

HOPE:

Well, that’s it. Best to get stuck

in right away, I find.

VERA:

(sudden panic)

I - do I have to? What about the

British huts?

HOPE:

(oblivious smile)

You’ve been in charge of your own

ward before, I take it?

VERA:

No, never!

HOPE:

Lovely! Over to you, then. (a

passing nod to how wet Vera is)

Plenty of time to change later.

And with that, she heads for the door. As she passes the

wounded soldier’s bed -

HOPE:

(to Vera)

See to him, will you. No idea

what he’s on about.

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