Episode 1 The Crimson Field

This programme contains some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Miss, you one of them volunteer nurses? Could you soothe my brow?

I'm feeling a bit feverish.

You look fine to me.

-SOLDIERS LAUGH

-Back in line, you.

Oh, are you one of us? I didn't see you on the boat.

I didn't feel very well.

Oh, quite a few girls didn't. I'm Flora, by the way.

Katherine.

Can you believe we're finally here?

Everyone at home is thrilled,

even though they wept buckets when I left.

Did your family weep buckets when they said goodbye?

Yes. Buckets.

The others went in here.

Hello again. Where are the others going?

Shouldn't we be following?

They were led off, I was told to wait and not move.

Finally. The stragglers.

What do you think this is, a Sunday afternoon stroll in England?

Follow me.

Keep your papers with you at all times.

Do not put down your luggage.

Do not let go of anything you value, you'll never see it again.

Your transport.

But where are we going?

Hospital 25A. Not far from the Front.

I hope you like it lively.

AIRCRAFT ENGINES ROAR

I'll write to his mother.

Yes, Matron.

End bed, please.

-Can you change his dressings?

-Matron.

You...get my boots. I want my boots.

Why do you want your boots, Private Molloy?

I'm leaving here. I can't walk out on my bare feet.

I need my boots. Will you fetch my boots?

I'll bring them in a little while.

He won't see out the day.

I'd like it if he could have as much peace as possible.

I'll go to him next.

I need an experienced nurse to special Molloy.

There's other men needing that.

Men who joined up for noble reasons, not because they thought they could escape the law.

All men deserve the same when they're dying,

no matter what they're said to have done.

-I'm not sure who we can spare.

-Help is coming.

Help? Girls, with a few months' training?

Our nurses feel the insult most keenly.

Did you know that military nurses are forbidden to marry?

Isn't that just awful? It's like being a nun!

Do either of you two have chaps or fiances in khaki?

You're very daring.

-Might I have one?

-Flora.

All the actresses do it. There are photographs in my magazine.

You're not an actress.

Just... It gives an impression.

The Voluntary Aid Detachment.

I think it's a splendid idea.

Impressionable young women, newly arrived in a strange place,

getting lost, having to ask the dashing captain where everything is.

I'll be sure to tell them.

You're not dashing. I'm dashing.

You're in mate.

I want a full report!

Thank you.

Not till it's been checked, sir.

One Royal No.10 portable typewriter with five ribbons.

Counted and checked by me, Captain Gillan. Me, the Quartermaster, sir.

And I will get to you in good time, sir.

Here at last.

Sister Quayle.

Let's get you settled. Follow me.

I imagine it's a little different from what you're used to.

FLIES BUZZ

I love camping.

Do you know what we'll be doing first, Sister?

It's just, I'm ever so much better at some things than others.

Let's hope they're the right things.

Sister, where are the...erm...conveniences?

There are chamber pots under the beds.

Please hurry and change.

Matron is expecting to see you in uniform.

Thanks.

DISTANT SHOUTS

-Permission to run, Matron?

-Granted.

SHOUTS CONTINUE

Bastard! Bastard.

I'm so sorry, Matron.

Get him off me!

Get off of him!

Don't you stick that bastard thing in me, you bitch.

Ah, you bitch!

Bitch! You whore! You bitch!

I'll kill her.

HE GROANS

See to the Padre, Nurse.

-Hot sweet tea and a quiet place to sit down.

-Yes, Matron.

Take Molloy back to his bed, please, Corporal.

Get him ready for examination.

Bitch. Bitch...

Was it the noise?

Do you want to come with me?

Come on. Come on.

KNOCK ON DOOR

Yes?

Ah. Do come in, Prentiss.

MUSIC: "Un bel di" from Madama Butterfly by Puccini

HE SOBS

Why does it help?

I don't know. But it does.

I'll put him on the list.

I think that's the right thing to do, Colonel.

Have you shown the young ladies the ropes yet?

Not yet.

I expect them to be welcomed.

It's difficult for my nurses. Civilian girls, on the wards.

It's extra pairs of hands and feet and God knows we need them.

And I don't want any silliness from your nurses,

giving the volunteers a bad time.

-We're the friendly face of the Army.

-Of course, Colonel.

Matron.

Why did you attack the Padre? He was trying to help.

Bastard was making me ready for the box.

You keep him away from me.

I don't want no cross on my head, I'm not dying.

I can special him, Matron. Sit with him. He doesn't bother me.

It's a nurse's job, Corporal, and you have other work to do.

-Matron...

-Suit yourself.

..the volunteers are waiting.

The youngest was immediately overfamiliar with the patients.

Shall we go together?

If you think I can be useful.

Margaret...

The promotion was just as much of a shock for me.

It was right it was you, and I couldn't be more proud.

My protegee.

And I know you will rise to the challenge.

Give us all confidence in your leadership,

and show these girls what's expected.

NEEDLE HISSES

At ease, Prentiss.

Blighty ticket.

I don't know how long they'll give you, but I'm sending you home.

Oh, there... There, there.

What is that?

It's a cake, Matron. A fruit cake.

Mrs Bartlett, she's our cook, she made it. She makes wonderful cakes.

Would you care for a piece?

Put it down.

Flora Marshall.

Yes, Matron.

-Rosalie Berwick.

-Yes, Matron.

Katherine Trevelyan.

-Matron.

-There are supposed to be four of you. Where is Joan Livesey?

There was only three of us at the meeting point, Matron.

So, Miss Livesey will arrive if and when she feels like it.

Marshall, how old are you?

-Oh, I'm nearly 24, Matron.

-No, you're not.

I am. I just look very young for my age. I always have.

Even when I was a baby I looked young for my age.

You're wearing scent.

I'm not, Matron. It's just rose-water.

Were you not taught the rules concerning conduct and deportment?

-Yes, Matron, of course.

-But you don't think they apply to you?

No, Matron, of course they do.

I'm speaking to Marshall.

Of course they do, Matron.

Wash it off, please.

The soap is there for a reason.

It looks ever so...drying, Matron, and I'm rather prone to rashes.

The rules are clear.

No scent, powder or paint is to be worn.

No fancy stockings, boots, shoes, belts. No trivialities.

Nothing that might invite, provoke or inflame masculine attention.

But perhaps, Marshall, you ARE a trivial young lady

and masculine attention is what you're hoping for?

It was only a splash of rose-water, Matron.

Matron, we all understand the rules, and will abide by them utterly.

Nursing the men to the very best of our ability

is what we're ready to do.

I'll be the judge of that.

That one's going to be trouble.

A well-made bed is essential to a well-run hospital.

Sister Quayle is showing exactly how it should be done.

And now you. You have two minutes.

I'm more than happy to deal with this.

As I said, I'll be the judge.

-SOLDIER:

-Come on, girls.

MATRON SIGHS

THEY LAUGH

Go on, Ginger, that's it!

SOLDIERS SHOUT ENCOURAGEMENT

-Five, four...

-Straight on to the quilt!

-That's it. Tuck it all under!

-..three, two...

-Come on, quickly. Go on!

-..one.

-That's it now.

Time's up.

THEY CHEER

-Your uniform is incorrect, Marshall.

-Good God.

Berwick and Trevelyan,

you will make every bed in the next three tents,

I will be checking every single one of them.

Marshall, you can't make beds.

It's not my best thing, Matron - but I'm ever so good at bandaging.

Look...

Lady Cavistock herself commended my bandaging.

And my dressings and fomentations. If you could just read...

And who is Lady Cavistock that she is such an expert?

Oh, she runs the Women's Guild in Worthing.

And who did you practise your bandaging on?

The Scouts. Well, anyone who'd let me. Even Daddy occasionally.

I'm really very good. I excel.

Lady Cavistock says so. Please read her commendation.

With me, Marshall.

-SISTER QUAYLE:

-On with your work.

HE COUGHS

Sir, might I have a moment?

Ah, Sister Quayle, I was intending to speak to you.

I know you would have expected to be Matron.

You know how much I value your experience on the wards,

and I wanted you to stay where you're doing so much good.

Colonel, thank you for the compliment,

and for clearing that up for me.

Any decision of yours has my full support.

DOOR OPENS AND CLOSES

Boiled, dried, rolled.

Since you excel in bandages and dressings.

FLIES BUZZ

-Colonel Purbright is here.

-Oh, Christ.

Sir.

-All ready then.

-As you see.

-Well, don't let them languish.

If they can walk and shoot, then back up they go.

Matron Carter. How are you settling in to the new job?

Very well, thank you, sir.

I thought you would have chosen the other one.

-HE SNIFFS

-What the bloody hell is that smell?

Oh, um, Sloan's Liniment. I have a cold.

Well, don't give it to me.

Do you get called anything for short?

Kate? Katy?

Nope.

Well, then, Katherine.

I feel I must speak to you about something rather important.

Might you turn around, please?

The rules are there for a reason.

We've all come here to do our duty, and that's not to question

and be difficult, but rather to do what's required of us.

They don't want us here.

We're being tested. Just as Britain is being tested, and...

you really are being rather selfish.

Muttering under your breath when Matron's speaking to you,

being defiant and impertinent - well, it reflects on all of us.

Not only Flora and myself, but on every volunteer.

You wouldn't want to give us all a bad name, would you?

God forbid.

I knew you'd see sense.

So best foot forward, and let's put this behind us and be friends.

I didn't come here to make friends. Especially not with a hypocrite.

I'm not a hypocrite.

What are you? 30? The embarrassing unmarried daughter.

A drain, a weight to be endured. Getting in the way, gathering dust.

But thank Christ for the war.

At last, function.

Purpose. Meaning.

You didn't volunteer out of duty.

You volunteered to escape.

Got a spare one, Nurse? I'm gasping.

TYPEWRITER KEYS CLACK

It's a very sad thing

when a man's heart beats with such ardour for a machine.

You're jealous because you haven't got one.

Yes, because what I've always dreamed of is a typewriter.

Were any of them pretty? The volunteers. Come on!

-Tell me, what were they like?

-I didn't notice.

I despair of you, Tom. You're a bitter disappointment to me.

Oh, and speaking of bitter disappointment, despair

and other malaise - brass hat alert.

That lickspittle Purbright demands our presence tout-bloody-suite.

-I'm busy.

-Exactly.

Let him stew in his minor public school juice.

We are surgeons, and no-one clicks their fingers at us.

This is ridiculous. How can all these men have venereal disease?

Can you be sure?

Yes, we're sure.

Well, symptoms are being manufactured.

Chancres are being simulated, Needle dipped in paraffin wax

applied to the old chap to create a blister.

General's Office has even heard of condensed milk being used

to simulate discharge.

HE SNIGGERS

I'm sorry, do you find that amusing?

Shocking waste of supplies, sir.

My staff know the difference between condensed milk

and a genuine presentation of syphilis.

They can't all have the bloody pox!

What do you do with those cases that aren't genuine?

Well, they go back up the line.

Right. In future they'll be reported.

And those men that HAVE got themselves riddled will be put on

half pay, and their families informed as to the reason why.

All but the Colonel and Matron are dismissed.

I want to review your Blighty cases.

CLANKING IN BUCKET

SHE GASPS

You're not permitted to be on the wards.

But there's...toes...

Don't run in uniform. She'll have your guts. What's in there?

Toes. Three toes. They fell out of a bandage.

What you going to do with them? Dunk 'em in your tea?

No, I'm going to ask Matron what to do with them.

No, you're not. Come with me.

-The majority are amputees.

-Thank you, I can read.

A burst eardrum?

It's affecting the man's balance.

Right, we'll keep him here for a week then send him back up.

With respect, sir, a week isn't enough.

What about this man? Prentiss. No details of any injury.

All his limbs are intact. And HIS eardrums are A-1.

-Why are you sending him home?

-Neurological damage.

-Nerves.

Sudden noise, sudden movement,

any disturbance triggers paroxysms, seizures...

-An hysteric.

-No, he...

-So what is wrong with him?

I don't know. And I don't know how to treat him.

It says here that you've found that music helps.

Yes. I don't know why, but it does.

I have some recordings for my gramophone

and quite by chance, Matron and I discovered that

if Prentiss listened to them, something was released,

he was able to weep and so avoided seizure and fitting.

So let me be clear about this.

He's young, fit, no physical injury, there's no medical reasons

FOR these fits, and he cries when he hears music.

Sounds to me like he's putting it on,

-sounds to me like funkiness.

-Not at all.

Well, let's put it to him. Run along and fetch him here.

When I want Matron's opinions, I'll ask for them.

See you put a leash on her.

HE COUGHS

Corporal Prentiss, could you come with me, please?

INDISTINCT CHATTER

Enjoy the game.

On your way home then, Prentiss.

Sir.

Neurological damage.

Sir.

Hold your hands out for me, there's a good chap.

Walk a straight line for me.

Look at that.

Neuve Chapelle. Lose many chums?

Sir.

Tough times for everyone.

Sir.

Are you lead-swinging, Prentiss?

-No, sir.

-Are you a coward?

No, sir.

Are you aware of the penalty FOR cowardice?

-Yes, sir.

-Are you a homosexual, Prentiss?

No, sir.

So if you're not a lead-swinger, and you're not a coward

and you're not a homosexual, you must be a soldier.

Sir.

Good man, Prentiss. Right answer.

Sir...

You may go back up the line and rejoin your regiment.

Dismissed.

Get another bar for that medal, eh?

Make your country proud.

-He needs a rest.

-He's had a rest.

Do you think the enemy are sending their men home because they're tired?

We MUST have men at the Front or we will lose.

It's that simple.

The bits go in here.

Bits?

Big bits - legs, arms. Small bits - hands, feet, fingers, toes,

ears sometimes. There's always bits, and they all go in here.

But whose ARE they?

Well, aren't we going to say anything? A prayer, or...?

-They're rotten.

-Neither use nor ornament.

Chuck them in, and get back to what you're doing. Sharpish.

Go on.

There. Now you know what to do.

Isn't what you expected, is it?

You'll get used to it.

What if I don't?

Then you don't.

But no-one's got the time to nanny you through it.

You disobeyed an order.

You were told to make the beds in the new ward tents.

I needed some fresh air.

You disobeyed an order.

For a moment, yes. But the soldier asked me for a cigarette.

You should have asked an orderly to help him

and returned immediately to the task you were given.

I thought it more important to help the soldier.

You thought that was more important than my order?

Yes, Matron, I did.

Then you will be reprimanded in the strongest possible terms.

SHE LAUGHS SOFTLY

For helping a man to smoke a cigarette?

He asked me for help, was I supposed to walk away?

Why are you here, Miss Trevelyan?

You seem incapable of respecting the most simple of necessary rules.

Was it necessary to be quite so vindictive towards Miss Marshall?

To humiliate her so publicly? Is that in the rules?

Or was it more about proving a point to Sister Quayle?

Your marching orders, Miss Trevelyan. I have no use for you.

The convoy leaves with the Blighty cases at 8:00,

-you will leave with them. Now, get out of my sight.

-With pleasure.

DOOR OPENS AND SLAMS

Ask one of the nurses to direct you to the sluice room,

tell them you are on my orders and are to scour every single bedpan

-till they gleam.

-Yes, Matron.

LABOURED BREATHING

I'll be back as soon as I can. You'll keep checking him regularly.

I don't want him in any pain at the end.

Yes, Matron.

Sister? I'm hemming!

Nurse! We have a haemorrhage over here.

Very slowly, we don't want him bleeding out.

PATIENT SCREAMS

Got another one for Blighty.

That's it. Off you go.

Lucky bastards.

Haemorrhage. You're needed in theatre, sir.

With me, Sister. Matter of urgency.

The Blighty convoy is about to leave.

I want you to find Corporal Prentiss, and give him that.

I thought it had been rescinded, sir.

This is my bloody hospital.

-I want Prentiss on that convoy. So hurry, please.

-Of course, sir.

Rosalie?

Rosalie, I'm about to leave, but I have to say something first.

Oh! Sorry, I thought you were someone else.

SHE GASPS AND WHIMPERS

You try and get away,

you breathe one word...

I'll cut your whore's throat.

I've done it before. And I'll do it again like it's nothing.

Nothing like a gusher to brighten up a dull afternoon, eh, lads?

THEY LAUGH

Shit.

What do you want?

You're going to keep me alive.

Molloy?

Molloy?

Molloy? Is that you?

They're looking for you. They're the ones that can help you. I can't.

No, they'll tell him where I am.

Who?

He wants me.

That's why I need you - to help me hold on.

He's coming for me. All the things I've done,

he's coming.

There's something coming out of my mouth.

Wipe it.

Show me.

You bitch. You said you would keep me alive!

No, I didn't. I didn't. No, I...

They can, they can. You said that, but I can't.

I'll take you with me. You're a lying bitch.

I've got nothing else to lose!

Well, go on, then - stop talking about it and do it.

HE BREATHES UNSTEADILY

I've got nothing left to lose either, so really, go ahead.

What are you waiting for?

No. No...

You should be begging for your life. Come on, beg.

-Beg. Beg for your life!

-I'm not begging you for anything.

LABOURED BREATHING

I'm dying.

HE SOBS

I won't leave you.

I'll stay with you.

Come on, let's get you into bed.

HE COUGHS

HE WHEEZES

Blighty convoy just left, Matron.

Thank you.

-The convoy's left, why aren't you on it?

-Ssh.

Who's that?

No-one to be scared of. Sssh...

(From the mouth.)

(Two minutes.)

HE WHEEZES

When I killed her...

..it weren't deliberate.

Will you tell her?

You tell her I didn't mean it.

You tell her I'm sorry.

Of course I will.

HE EXHALES SLOWLY

No harm done.

In his paybook you will find an address for his mother in Aberdeen.

As you were the special, you will write to Mrs Molloy.

You will say that her son died peacefully and without pain.

You always tell the families that the death was peaceful

and without pain, even when it is not.

Is that rule reasonable enough for you?

Yes, Matron.

What was the matter with him?

Gas gangrene. Liver and lungs.

How he had the strength to lift himself out of his bed is beyond me.

You disobeyed another order.

I thought this was more important... Matron.

He will need laying out.

I've been trained in how to do that.

I'll send someone to make sure you do it properly.

You also never talk about a dying man's last words.

No matter what they confess to.

It won't go any further.

Probationary period, Trevelyan. I will not be so lenient again.

Matron.

INDISTINCT CHATTER

-Strip the linen.

-Yes, Matron.

Private Molloy's body is in the new ward tent.

Corporal Foley, you will assist the volunteer in laying him out.

He had these.

It could all have been very different.

Thank you, Matron.

Your uniform is incorrect.

Sorry, Matron.

BUGLE BLOWS

Are you waiting for me, sir?

I think it's you that's been waiting for me.

I can't apologise enough for being late. Joan...Livesey.

CHATTERING VOICES

How's the first day been then, Volunteer?

My esteemed colleague was lying. He said none of you were pretty.

He must be blind.

(Shy. How sweet.)

I apologise for my friend, he er...he thinks he's dashing.

Leave her alone, Miles.

Do you know what they call the VADs?

The Very Adorable Darlings. And I think that suits you perfectly.

My father gave me a piece of advice about women,

shall I tell you what it is?

He said, never marry a woman who holds your look for too long,

she's bound to be trouble.

And you take your father's advice for everything, do you?

Well, usually, but not in matters of the heart.

Of course you do.

You're the sort that does exactly as he's told.

HE CHUCKLES

She will be eating out of my hand within the week.

-Sister Quayle?

-No running!

Oh. Sorry.

Sister Quayle? I was wondering if I could have my cake?

I shared it out among the men.

I thought that was what you intended. I am sorry.

No, please - I'm glad you did that. It's much better.

Did they like it?

They enjoyed it very much.

Oh, good. I shall tell Mrs Bartlett. She'll be so pleased.

Thank you, Sister. Goodnight.

Don't forget to say your prayers.

Oh, of course. I always do.

MUFFLED CONVERSATION

I realised I'd missed the lorry

so thought I'd get here under me own steam.

Bought the bike in Boulogne. Got the coat, goggles, everything

for an absolute song.

You can buy anything in Boulogne.

I could have turned up in full evening wear with two

-Pekingese dogs if I'd have wanted to.

-Margaret, this is Joan Livesey.

The missing volunteer.

No, a civilian Sister. A reservist.

From the Royal Infirmary, Liverpool. How do you do?

A Sister? We thought...

We were sent four names, so naturally we assumed...

I completely understand, wires get crossed.

You've been billeted with the volunteers, but you will have your own private quarters.

You wouldn't mind showing the way, would you?

Don't trouble yourselves. I can find my way.

If I get lost, I'll ask someone.

Goodnight.

A proper, qualified, highly-qualified civilian nurse.

I may have a brandy to celebrate.

She's rather young to have made Sister.

DOOR CLOSES

Is she all right parked there?

Can you point me in the general direction of the sleeping quarters?

Follow the signs.

Thank you.

I would never dream of cutting my hair, but I do think yours

-looks smashing.

-Well, thank you.

-This is Joan. That's Katherine.

-Hello.

It's Kitty. I get called Kitty for short.

Are you married?

Flora! That's far too personal!

We're off duty! And civilian nurses can get married. So, are you?

Or engaged? Is there a Mr Joan?

-When would I have time for a man?

-Well, never mind.

You have a motorcycle. And I'd absolutely die to ride a motorcycle.

Maybe I'll teach you.

Oh, I'd love that!

BUGLE BLOWS

That's the boys leaving! We should wave them goodbye.

You're in your nightclothes!

They're going to the Front.

THEY LAUGH SOFTLY

What I said was unforgivably cruel.

I'm sure we'll all get used to each other.

Come and see this! You have to see this!

Right marker!

Get a move on, you lot!

Squad will move to the right in fours.

Form...fours!

Right.

By the left. Quick march!

Left, right, left, right, left, right...

What I wouldn't give to be you, lads!

Give the Hun hell from me!

For King and country, give 'em hell, lads.

Left, right, left, right, left, right...

Good luck, boys. Good luck!

Stay alive for me.

Stay alive.

Stay alive.

Where's my husband?

I didn't think you'd be so close to the sea.

You shouldn't have come.

SHE SOBS I'm not prepared for this.

No woman is a blank sheet of paper, we all have histories.

And I will not give up until I see a smile.

I really believe I was meant for this.

-I've got grit!

-Where? In your shoe?

Are you going to put them all in the laundry,

out of sight, out of mind? It's just bloody-minded.