Mason: Sir, Sir! [Gasp of pain - he cannot sit up] Sir! Speak to me Sir! Sir?
[There is silence other than the wheezing breath from Mason’s injured lungs] Sir! Please! [He struggles to climb from the rickety bed. His arms reach desperately across, the pain showing in his staring eyes. The pain is too much and he falls back with a thud clutching his side.]
Stanhope: [muffled, almost silently] No. [Mason turns his head to the left, slowly. Stanhope speaks again, louder with more emotion.] No!
Mason: Sir, I, I …
Stanhope: [shouting desperately] No! No! No! [He breaks down, sobbing uncontrollably, gasping and clutching at his bloodied head.] Leave me! Leave me! I’m never going back! No, no, no!
Mason: Sir, I’m here. ‘ear me, sir!
Stanhope: [His sobbing quieter] I’m never going back Mason.
Mason: Back where sir?
Stanhope: [filled with dread] Home.
Mason: But sir! I thought you meant the trenches!
Stanhope: Can’t you see! I can never escape those pits of hell! I will carry the horrors I have seen to the grave. They will plague me, asleep and awake, stunting any growth of happiness and blighting every day I have left on this earth. I’m damaged goods Mason. I’m going to die here, in this bed and thank God! [His shouting echoes throughout the room. He tries to move from under his covers but is obviously failing.]
Mason: Stay, sir! Listen to me sir!
Stanhope: No! I’ve tried like hell, but I can’t take this any more! I’m going to end it, end it, end it!
Mason: Even if you could get your gun, what way is that to die sir? What way is more shameful than that! You, Stanhope, Officer and survivor are going to give it all up in the second it takes for the bullet to reach your brain and blow it to pieces. I’ve looked up to you sir! Countless others too! What about ‘ibbert? You told ‘im to never give up! You gave him ‘ope! In fact you’re behaving just as ‘e did until you spoke to him. You weren’t perfect. We all knew about the drinking and …
Stanhope: [his eyes wild and menacing] How dare you! How can you even begin to understand what it was like for me? I’ve been out there for two years! Two years of sleepless nights and constant worry. Watching others die, comrades suffer. How can you possibly understand?
Mason: But don’t you see? All of us in our trench were doing exactly the
same! We all coped differently, but for the same reason- to get away from everything, to forget. Trotter ‘ad his comfort food, Hibbert his illness, Osbourne his nonsense poems and, well, I ‘ad my jobs. That’s why I made such an effort to cook and clean, so it would be like ‘ome, where I worked up at the big ‘ouse. I didn’t seem to get it right all the time, but it ‘elped.
Stanhope: [quietly] I…I’m sorry Mason. I didn’t think- I was selfish. I’m so sorry.
Mason: It’s alright. I understand.
Stanhope: I shouldn’t have taken it all out on you. I’m so lucky to have anyone to talk to at all. I probably would have pulled the trigger if… if it wasn’t for you.
Mason: That’s alright sir. That’s what comradeship’s all about.
Stanhope: I – [He is interrupted by a Field Nurse in uniform coming bustling in. She is small with red cheeks and curly hair tied in neat bun. She is holding a piece of paper in her hand. She stops at the foot of Stanhope’s bed.]
Nurse: [politely] Good evening gentlemen. I have been told by the doctor to come and deliver this message to a Captain Stanhope?
Stanhope: [nervously] Yes. That’s me.
Nurse: He wants me to tell you that you’re heading for home tomorrow morning. I expect you’ll be relieved to hear that! Not that you don’t deserve it you poor soul! [Stanhope’s face immediately drops to a look of despair. A call off stage summons the nurse and she hurries out.]
Stanhope: Wait [It’s too late to catch her] Wait!
Mason: What’s wrong now sir?
Stanhope: [slightly hysterically] She didn’t mention you Mason - or the others. I can’t go back on my own, Mason. I can’t be alone. I shall go mad.
Mason: Calm down sir. I’m sure she’ll be back. They’re probably just going through each patient one by one, that’s all, starting with the Captains and working their way down.
Stanhope: I wonder. I wonder what’s happened to the other chaps in the trench, if we’ll see them on the boat. Wouldn’t that be strange?
Mason: [quietly] I don’t think that’s possible sir. [The spotlight above his head has faded slightly.]
Stanhope: Why ever not? I do worry about Raleigh, I must admit. That shrapnel caught him rather badly. I only hope they’ve managed to do something for him. Did you see?
Mason: [more quietly, spotlight fading] Sir, they’re all dead. We are the only ones in our whole company left. Our stretch was the worst ‘it for miles. It’s a wonder that the stretcher bearers found us with the amount of corpses piled around us.
Stanhope: [slowly] Trotter? Hibbert? Gone? Raleigh? Oh I…I…
Mason: [getting quieter, spotlight fading] I ‘eard it all from one of the nurses sir. She said that neither of them suffered much. Raleigh never made the ‘ospital as far as I know.
Stanhope: I hate this war! I hate it, hate it! It’s not about glory or winning or what’s right! It’s about power - who can decide who should live or die. And the worst part of it is that it made me cruel. It made me hurt people, good people - innocent people.
Mason: [even quieter, spotlight fading] Who, sir?
Stanhope: [sadly] Raleigh. He looked up to me. I was his hero. I’ve only just realised what Osbourne meant that day, about hero worship, the day Raleigh came into the trenches: “It often goes on all through life”. I didn’t listen. Now I can’t even explain why I acted like I did. It’s too late to say sorry now. I’ll regret this all my life.
Mason: [softly, spotlight fading] You can ‘elp him sir.
Stanhope: How? He’s gone, gone where all those other poor chaps are.
Mason: [even softer, spotlight fading] You can’t leave his sister not knowing. You ‘ave to see her. Tell her ‘ow it is.
Stanhope: But, but how will I be able to look her in the eye, knowing how I treated her only brother? How will she be able to look me in the eye – seeing me like this? [He gestures dramatically to where his legs used to be] Some things are best left in the past.
Mason: [faintly, spotlight fading] You can ‘elp her get over her grief, to move on sir.
Stanhope: But what if she rejects me? What if she won’t listen to a cripple like me?
Mason: [fainter, spotlight fading] You’re a war ‘ero sir. Everyone will listen to you.
Stanhope: War hero. If only they knew the truth.
Mason: [ever fainter, spotlight fading] They’ll cheer for you sir.
Stanhope: Maybe so but what about all those who’ve been left behind here, buried in foreign soil, never to leave.
Mason: [even fainter, spotlight fading] They want to be left sir.
Stanhope: Rather then live to see England again?
Mason: [almost to quiet to hear] They’d rather rest in peace sir. [The spotlight goes out finally leaving Mason in peaceful darkness. All is quiet for a minute. The faint whistle of a shell can be heard in the background, a few short bursts of rifle fire cutting through the silence. A few rays of moonlight shine through the window onto the end of Mason’s bed.]
Stanhope: [eventually speaking] It all seems so far away doesn’t it Mason. Funny to think it was only this morning you were making tea for everyone, before the attack. How it tasted of onion as it always did – not that we minded you understand, it was still good and hot. [he pauses and sighs] You’re a good man, Mason. I never said it enough. You are a good man. All these things we wish we had said to people. Like I should have said to Raleigh. But I’m saying it to you now Mason. You are a good man. In fact you are the real hero. [There is a pause. He yawns slowly] Thank God you are still with me. I’m not alone. You are such a comfort. I think I might actually sleep tonight Mason, for the first time in weeks! I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like. I apologise in advance if I wake you. [There is a pause]. Already asleep yourself, eh? Good man…such a good man…
