Episode 3 The Crimson Field

This programme contains some strong language and some scenes which some viewers may find upsetting.

TRUCKS RUMBLE, DISTANT SHOUTING

KEYS CLATTER

Wakey-wakey!

PLANES RUMBLE OVERHEAD

WIND RUSTLES

Nicholls.

Nicholls, you can't keep doing this.

I'm not trying to run away.

It's peaceful.

Clean.

I know.

Perhaps a few minutes more.

WAVES CRASH

Mother of God, it's freezin'!

We are Irishmen serving the crown!

For Irishmen serving the Crown

there are only two temperatures...

Too bastard hot

and mildly refreshing!

What is it?

It's mildly refreshing, Sergeant McCafferty, Sir.

This is how you heal, Peache.

Salt water.

Fresh air.

Soon be out of hospital blues and back in khaki.

He's up there again, Sergeant.

Eyes front, son.

There's nothing to be done about him. He brought it on himself.

He's a ghost.

They won't look at me.

Don't look at them.

You're dawdling, Berwick!

Sorry, Sister.

He's going to be fine, isn't he?

Course.

Right. Feeling better for some sea air?

Let's have a look at this hand then.

It was an accident.

Major Yelland operated on me in the field.

He's got my file, he knows it was an accident.

You do believe me, don't you?

It's obviously self-inflicted, Sir.

Textbook.

Black scorch marks on what's left of his hand

and the inside of the wrist.

He'd held a detonator and set it off.

And you're certain, beyond question, that this was no accident?

I'm sending a man for court martial.

I have to be sure.

If he's found guilty, he could be shot.

It was deliberate. I'm certain.

Saw a lot of these in my last posting.

I've something of a reputation for being able to sniff out a coward.

How's his demeanour on the ward?

Subdued, Sir. Very anxious.

Well, of course he's subdued.

He doesn't want to invite the contempt of his fellows.

And of course he's anxious, he's been caught!

Well, thank you, Yelland. Your testimony is very clear.

How fortunate you should have been with us at this difficult time.

There's a rumour that it's to be roast duck tonight.

Eh, yes, that's quite correct.

Haven't had a decent feed since I've been here.

Looking forward to it.

Colonel.

Matron.

Roland...

This is not my choice.

I know.

Sir.

Personally, I'd give the man the benefit of the doubt.

Here, give this to Matron when she asks for them.

Observations on Private Albert Nicholls,

soon to be known as "the prisoner".

In my view, it's a common enough injury.

It could have been an accident.

Maybe it'll make a difference.

Worth a punt, as the bookies say.

It's monstrous. It's barbaric.

If they shoot him, then it's cold-blooded murder,

there's no other name for it.

Watch what you say.

Watch who's around when you say it.

You don't care what you say?

No-one takes me seriously.

But you are rather serious. It raises eyebrows.

Be wise.

Help! Please help!

My daughter's hurt.

Help me, she's been burned.

There was nowhere else for me to take her.

-What's your name?

-It's Mathilde. Mathilde Tillens.

It was a pan of milk on the stove, the handle came away and...

We are from Belgium.

We escaped after the invasion

You are a brave little girl.

Not a peep.

She doesn't understand any English.

Vous etes une petite fille tres courageuse.

I can feel another bit, Sergeant.

That's shrapnel for you.

Known men to be picking it out of themselves

ten years after South Africa.

Tell the Captain.

If you're coming through here again, stick to the path.

You worried I'll get lost, Sergeant?

Just stick to the path.

Dirty queers.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS

Hat off.

Shoulders straight.

This is a real warrior you're meeting now.

Aloysius McCafferty!

Peache, meet Sister Quayle.

Saved my life at Ladysmith.

Walked out in front of the guns like they were nothing at all.

Who is this?

Lance Corporal Enda Peache. One of my lads.

He looks a likely sort!

Eight months in and mentioned in despatches twice.

Oh, he's got the stuff!

Lead his own men under the British flag one day.

You're allowed to smile, young man.

Yes, Sister. Thank you, Sergeant.

I'm giving him an education, Sister.

He knows what courage is.

But I want him to see that a true soldier isn't always in khaki.

Has she always been so quiet?

Why?

It's just unusual for a child to make no noise at all.

She's been silent from a baby.

I see. I'm sorry if it sounded like I was prying.

No.

You'll have to keep the burns covered,

I should be able to come out and re-dress the wounds for you.

No, leave that!

It's only poetry.

I'm not a spy.

Sister?

Come and see me when you've finished.

Of course, Matron.

-I would be very careful who sees that.

-I am.

Thank you.

Don't thank me. Just be careful.

My sergeant says I've got a great future in the army.

-Oh, I can see that!

-"He's got the stuff," he said - about me.

-Did you go red?

-I bet you did!

I was trying to be all, erm...

But I was grinning all over me face.

You'll make Corporal tomorrow!

Ah, stop it. I'll be getting a swelled head.

Oh, I can see that!

Peache.

It's from my mother.

The priest said at Mass that no true son of Ireland

would wear the uniform of a British oppressor.

Then everyone turned round and looked at her.

Got no right to call himself a priest then, has he?

Shame on him.

Your mother's proud of you.

And only the true Irish boys wear khaki.

Sergeant. She's had brick thrown through her window!

She's scared.

My brothers and sisters have other kids jeering at them!

It's just troublemakers, son. Take no notice.

I need to show my face, shut them all up.

I need to take my leave, Sergeant. I need to go home.

Put this right.

Listen, Peache, don't make a fuss...

but that's not going to happen.

What do you mean?

Army orders. There's nothing to be done about it.

-There must be something, I'm owed!

-Don't make a show of yourself!

It's not going to happen.

Take it on the chin.

Write to your mother, tell her to walk tall, hold her head high.

That's all you can do, son.

Go and see about that shrapnel.

Sergeant McCafferty, Sister Quayle would like to invite you for tea.

Corporal Wingfield, come back inside!

Those boys are in my trees again!

They're devils for thieving!

Bloody devils!

There are no boys and nothing is being stolen,

come back inside, please.

Christ!

This wound is supposed to be irrigated every two hours

or it gets re-infected.

It hasn't been done and now...

it's re-infected!

Why hasn't it been done?

Major Yelland said to let the patient sleep, Captain.

Is that Major Yelland's name on here?

He's the Senior Officer.

We just do what we're told.

No, you don't. And that's the problem.

Get him prepped for theatre.

Sir. Sir, can I talk to you about this?

I'm going to kill Yelland!

I'll help you dig the grave and obviously it will be our secret.

Tom, go to the boss, he's the only one who can do anything about it.

I'll fight my own battles.

That's exactly what I'm worried about.

Come on.

SHE GRUNTS

I'm sorry, I didn't know anyone else was in here.

Actually...

I don't quite know how to say this, so I'm just going to say it.

I wasn't meant to be at the beach, let alone swimming.

Somebody else might have reported me or gossiped.

You've clearly done neither, so...

I appreciate your discretion.

What you do is of no concern to me.

SHE SCOFFS

Ah! A lovely touch.

Thank you.

You're welcome, Sister.

You're proving such a help to me, Berwick.

Sergeant, please excuse the informality of the surroundings.

It's a privilege to talk to you anywhere, Sister.

You must know what's happening.

You must know. What have they decided?

Why aren't you telling me what they've decided?

I can't tell you anything because I haven't been told myself.

You don't believe this was an accident, do you?

You have to believe me, you have to help me, you have to...

Private Nicholls, you must go back to the ward now.

HE SIGHS

I only joined up because my girl gave me a white feather.

I thought I'd die from the shame of it.

Look at me now.

Ma petite, assieds-toi.

A bientot, ma petite.

You're very kind.

It is unusual, not everybody would have been so.

I'm a teacher... II was a teacher.

When we run, we run with books.

We pick up the ones that mean the most.

I think you should get rid of it.

Goodbye.

What was the problem with the man and his daughter?

Burns and shock.

I said I'd go and see them at their home.

I should have asked you first.

No, the Colonel will sign you out.

We have a responsibility, especially to the refugees.

The Germans went through that country like a pack of wolves.

They only have us to turn to.

Yes, Matron.

I see they decorated you for your distinguished service, Sister.

Yes, the Royal Red Cross.

It's the sound of the cannon fire for you and me.

Sets the heart racing.

It does indeed.

That lad Peache now, he's the same.

Runs to it, he does.

Fearless.

You wait all your life for a lad like that, turn him into a soldier.

I look at him and I see me,

but better.

Did you not have your own sons?

There was a wife.

But she died a while back.

Typhus.

And I won't have my own sons now, I know that.

Beware of proteges, Aloysius.

They can slide a blade between the ribs like no-one else.

He's had news from home.

The old trouble stirring.

Hotheads rebelling against the British Crown.

He's owed leave, and I know I should argue for it,

but I...

..don't want him to get caught up.

I'm worried he may not come back.

You're not his father, you're his sergeant.

Sons become defiant.

A soldier obeys.

Be his sergeant.

She wants me to come home. Could I not get my leave on compassionate grounds?

Peache, is your mother on her deathbed?

She's worried sick. They're calling me a traitor.

But she's not on her deathbed.

I can see it's upsetting, but I'm sure it'll blow over.

Is there not a proper priest I can talk to?

He has Enteric Fever.

I'm doing his job.

Do you call this doing a job?

-You're not even looking at me!

-Have a care, young man.

Argh!

HE GROANS AND PANTS

Christ, are you still experimenting on this poor blighter?

Hasn't he been through enough?

What a mess.

Putrefaction.

Stinks like an open grave.

Hurts like hell, I expect.

Prefer a nice clean stump, wouldn't you?

Of course you would. You're a bloody torturer, Gillan.

I suppose this is the sort of backstreet butchery

that passes for surgery where you come from!

You're in my light, Sir.

HE GROANS

Bloody amateurs.

What have we got here, then?

-Morning, Miss Berwick.

-Morning.

-Rosalie, you can't keep avoiding me.

I'm sorry, I'm busy.

Miss Trevelyan, I'm still waiting for that smile.

You know what they say about banging your head against a brick wall?

It feels wonderful when you stop.

Well, then my head must be made for brick walls

because I always feel pretty wonderful!

He's always getting out of his bed,

just steer him back.

And try and stop him from getting his fingers under his bandage

because he scratches his head and it's just...

It's just that I'm not getting anything done.

I'll try my best.

You're a brick.

You asked to see me?

I want this to stop. This.

Major Yelland says it should be cut off.

No.

No, it's the right kind of wound for this new treatment.

What about me? I don't want it.

-It's not up to you.

-That Major's right.

This is just an experiment to you.

I'm just an experiment. You're treating me like a lump of meat!

Do you know what this is like? It's knives, it's razors!

-Every two hours...

-You bastard!

-Mostyn!

I don't care!

Every two hours, without fail.

I don't care what he says,

I don't care what Major Yelland says.

I don't care who walks on this ward and says different!

Every two hours.

Bastard!

You bastard!

You stone-hearted bastard!

What is it?

You look a bit grey. I don't mean to be rude.

I'm just a bit under the weather.

One more behind me, Sister.

Let's make a start, shall we?

What's that you've got there?

They're mine! My trophies.

Best get on with the beds.

The rest of you, as you were.

Are you all right?

I'm sorry. I...

I...

-I can't apologise enough.

-No.

-Never in my professional life...

I would if I were you. Steady the buffs and all that.

It's a truly nasty sight.

But it honestly doesn't do to think about it too closely.

How can you not?

Erm, willpower and gin.

Really, don't let your mind loose on it.

Tell yourself that at least it's a few less shooting at us.

That is the only way to think about it.

Them and us.

If you think about it any other way, you'll end up rocking in a corner.

I need to get home, Sir. Can you help me?

There's nothing I can say that will make a difference.

Your sergeant needs to speak for you.

He said there's nothing to be done.

Well, that's it, then.

Why will no-one help me?

Is this what they call fair treatment in the British Army?

Don't do anything stupid.

No, Sir.

I've just heard there'll be a court martial. They'll take him tonight.

That was very quick.

Why delay?

No-one will really say anything,

there'll just be an empty bed.

It scares the men even more.

He'll be moved.

He'll have company until they arrive.

All that work and skill to get a man sufficiently healed

to stand trial for cowardice.

Roland, our feelings will do him no good at all.

Not now.

This is all the shrapnel I've got in me.

But do I get what I'm owed?

No. That's the thanks you get for risking your life.

Aye, you're right.

They will make you all sorts of promises to get you to put this on,

but they're liars.

There's one rule for us and it's another for them.

And the rule for us is shite,

because that's what they think we are.

What you going to do about it, then?

-Peache...

-MEN: Watch it.

You rabble-rousing?

I'm telling the truth.

You're here to do your duty.

All of you.

Put that in your minds.

The straight and narrow.

You're here to fight for King and country!

He's not the king of my country.

What did you say?

I said, he's not the king of my fuckin' country!

Easy. Come on, lads. No need for that.

You're going the right way

about getting yourself into a lot of trouble.

The kind of trouble that I can't do anything about!

-And I don't want that.

-Enough, now.

HE SOBS

So learn your lesson, son.

HE WHIMPERS

All right, get up.

He got him going!

It's decided, then?

It is. We'll move you now.

Corporal Foley will help you with your uniform

and he'll be staying with you.

You are going to be sensible, aren't you?

For the sake of the other lads.

Sister, I don't understand how you have time to come here.

Children are important. I can see that Mathilde's suffered.

That is so.

But your kindness is overwhelming.

I'm just doing my job.

It was more than that.

You have shown me trust.

I don't think reading German poetry makes you a spy.

But some people would have reported it.

Life would have been very difficult.

I'm not those people.

Mathilde has not been silent from a baby.

Before, she speaks.

She doesn't stop.

I don't understand.

Her mother, my wife, was German.

When we came here,

I said to Mathilde...

..that she must never tell anyone about that half of her.

About her mother.

And she just stops speaking completely.

Too afraid to betray us.

Not one single sound.

This world...

Sister?

Forgive me, but you don't look very well.

Has something happened?

Fucking coward.

-Hope they shoot you!

-Sergeant.

Sir?

Your Lance Corporal came to see me.

He's getting himself worked up.

It's been dealt with, Sir.

TRUMPET PLAYS

I've seen some terrible things.

And they tell you not to think about it,

like you can turn your mind off.

But I can't, I can't...

..stop thinking.

You have someone fighting?

When did you last hear from him?

I...

I haven't heard from him.

But you're with the Army.

They can find out for you, you have his name, his regiment -

go to them, ask them. Then at least you'll know.

Not knowing is so much worse. They'll help you, ask them.

-Why would you not go straight to them?

-Thank you for your coffee, Mr Tillens, I really should go.

Unless...

..he was on the wrong side.

You would not go to the Army if he was on the wrong side.

Sit.

Is he German?

I knew him in England before the war.

You have heard nothing?

I don't...

I don't know if he's alive or dead

and I...

I think the not knowing will make me mad.

There are still ways of getting letters through.

A reply can come for you, here.

Write to him.

INDISTINCT CONVERSATIONS

I'm going to get as much down me as possible before Yelland arrives

and hogs the lion's share, as usual.

Gentlemen, Colonel Brett sends his apologies,

so I will be in the chair tonight.

Why don't we toddle off

and get blind-stinking drunk somewhere else, eh? Anywhere else.

Gillan!

It's from the outside in.

-Come on.

-We're staying.

Oh, a handkerchief. Such delicate work.

Is this for the coward?

Don't call him that.

But that's what he is.

Margaret, some men just aren't soldiers.

We can't condemn them for just not being soldiers.

Can we not?

I'm sure it'll bring him some comfort.

Eat.

You ever killed someone, Corporal?

You just got to look at the cards.

Training...

you're just stabbing sackfuls of straw.

You do it for real....

..no-one tells you what it's going to sound like.

His face was right there.

I could feel his breath.

I just wanted it to stop!

I did it for you, Peache.

I had to hit you, son.

That was dangerous talk.

Do you hear me?

You don't just get taken away for cowardice and desertion.

You get taken away for flapping your mouth.

Makes you become a ghost.

I did it for you, Peache.

Peache?

I did it for you, son.

Hello?

Is there anybody in here?

WATER SPLASHES

CREAKING

Who's that?

Are you published yet?

No, Sir.

Well, never mind.

-Keep rattling away at it.

-HE CLEARS HIS THROAT

You going to be writing about that...

contraption?

It's called a Carrel-Dakin system, Sir.

Sounds like something from Beatrix Potter.

Carrel-Dakin.

The little mouse who wanted to be a big mouse.

Call it what you like, it doesn't work.

Well, there's been some interference with it, Sir.

Oh, I'm sure you'll sort it out.

Obvious you're a clever chap. You must be to have gotten this far.

Scholarships and what-have-you.

Every exam a rung up the ladder.

Shinning your way up the greasy pole.

For Christ's sake, Sir.

You deserve some credit, really, to have done so well.

Must be quite uncomfortable

being addressed as "Sir" by your tribe.

Tell me.

What do they call you when you go back home to the tenement?

What do Mum and Dad say to their blue-eyed boy

now they're his inferiors?

HE CHUCKLES

HE LAUGHS

Yes, it is quite funny.

Isn't it?

You sitting there like you're God Almighty

when everyone here knows that, as a man, you are a waste of skin.

And, as a surgeon...

you couldn't find your cock with both hands...

..Sir.

Oh, God, I hate violence.

On your feet.

Anywhere you like.

You first.

LOW CHATTER

It's time to go.

No.

-No! No.

-Come on.

-No.

-No. No!

-Nicholls.

-No!

-Nicholls, look.

-HE SOBS

-Look.

I made it for you.

So that you know that I am thinking of you

and I'm praying for you.

Gently, please.

ENGINE STARTS

Thank you, Corporal Foley.

You may take a late morning.

Matron.

Right.

Are you ready?

I'm going to Mass first, Sergeant.

You still need the salt water.

Make sure you come down after.

Yes, Sergeant.

So, are you a country boy, then, Peter? Setting snares?

You don't sound like a country boy.

What's it to you what I sound like?

I'm curious. Where are you from?

Mind your business.

You're SO cagey.

I tell YOU everything.

Don't you just? Even when I don't want to hear it.

There's been a serious complaint about you.

This is why I don't like mess dinners.

Educated men become bloody feral.

It's not death that's the great leveller. It's drink.

-I wasn't drunk, Sir.

-Consider this a severe reprimand.

I'm told there's been a prolonged campaign

of particular provocation.

Who told you that?

Your friend, the blasted boy, was up here at dawn,

which must be the first time

he's dragged himself from his pit at a decent hour.

That's not an excuse, Sir.

No.

But it is a reason.

Major Yelland is not going to be around for much longer.

He's going up to a casualty clearing station.

And, yes, I know that this is something you want,

but you'll just have to wait your turn.

I trust it's obvious

that I'm completely brassed off with every single one of you.

-Yes, Sir.

-Good. Go away.

Am I doing the right thing with the Carrel-Dakin, Sir?

It's just...

the man's in agony. I do feel like a torturer.

Gillan...

..that is an expensive piece of kit.

Do you imagine that I let you make free with it,

causing considerable pain to the patient,

because I'm assailed by wild and uncontrollable doubt?

No, Sir.

Very good.

So, kindly...

bugger off and do your job.

Thank you, Sir.

Body of Christ.

'Body of Christ.'

The poor bunnies.

You'll be begging me for these pelts

to put in your boots and your gloves come winter.

It's colder than a witch's tit.

-Sorry.

-Oh, I hear swearing all the time.

-I'm not a child, you know.

-Hm.

-I'm actually a woman of the world.

Even if I've never been kissed by a boy.

And here's something else I don't want to know about.

Gordon Naysmith tried once,

but he was horrible, so I kicked him in the shins.

But apart from that, no-one else.

Not even when I really want them to.

Oh, it's probably because you don't ever shut up talking.

Perhaps I'm not very kissable.

Why are you telling me this?

Do you expect me to do something about it?

Of course I don't expect YOU to kiss me, Peter.

You're homosexual.

-Who told you that?

-No-one.

I saw you going onto the dunes.

I know what goes on up there.

No. You don't know what you're talking about.

I do, actually.

-My brother Barty, he's homosexual.

-I'm as normal as the next man.

If anyone says different, they'll get their throats ripped out.

-I wouldn't ever betray...

-There's nothing to betray!

You have to be careful.

Because if I've noticed then someone else will.

You have to be so careful.

SHE SIGHS

My pass, Sergeant.

A bit of a jaunt will put the roses back in your cheeks.

You go careful, Sister.

Thank you, Sergeant.

Poor Sister Livesey.

A bit of an upset on her ward yesterday.

She's engaged.

-Really?

-She said she didn't have anyone, but...

she wears the ring round her neck. I saw it.

She makes no mention of that in her records.

Perhaps she thinks it's none of our business.

ENGINE SPLUTTERS TO LIFE

Right, you motley horrible gaggle! Taking you back to training camp.

Fall in!

What do you think you're doing?

Sergeant McCafferty, I will do my duty.

I will shoot, I'll fight.

I will kill any German that you point me at.

But I won't do it in a British khaki.

I'll do it all in my own Irish skin.

That khaki is the finest set of clothes you'll ever have.

Put it on, son.

I'm not your son.

What were you like when I got you?

Eight stone, soaking wet,

your belly stuck to your spine.

Ireland spat you out!

The British Army picked you up!

It clothed you, it fed you.

It made a man of you!

It gave you back your pride, your dignity.

It gave you me!

Sergeant McCafferty...

..are you...

crying?

You're crying.

Well, I wouldn't want to do that to you.

Put it on!

Look.

I'm putting it on.

Just like you wanted.

They'll all be very impressed.

They'll think that you're a real hard bastard.

But me and you'll know different, won't we?

I'll go out there...

and I'll look hangdog and chastised

and you can just...

blow your nose.

The Army's your family, Sergeant.

Not mine.

But if you'd just helped me.

All you had to do was ask.

Just try and get me home.

Even if you hadn't managed it, if you'd have just tried for me...

..I would have loved you like a father for ever.

But you didn't.

So...

you're nothing to me.

You're just a ghost now.

Where's the nurse?

She said she'd be back in a few minutes.

Shouldn't you be doing...something.

-I am.

-Doesn't look like it.

Mostyn.

Yes, this is an experiment.

Yes, I know it's excruciating, and if you really can't bear it...

I will amputate.

If you really can't bear it.

But you're a young man.

And I want to see you walk through the rest of your life on two legs.

So, what's it to be?

Two legs.

Good.

Thieving bloody devils!

No, no. I've spoken to their mothers.

Those boys have been told.

No more climbing on your trees.

No more breaking branches. No more scrumping.

They, erm...

They... They can take all the windfalls they want.

I... I...

I don't mind them taking the windfalls.

Well, I'll tell them.

I'll tell them.

I can't wrestle with him.

I have to stop him from scratching his head.

There really isn't any head left to scratch, is there?

I don't know. He's not one of mine.

Seems to be working.

That's what I'm doing.

Not that it's any concern to you.

When I saw your clothes on the beach...

I thought someone was drowning.

Well, I'm sorry if I alarmed you.

I've been alarmed since the moment you arrived.

You run, you're going to get bloody shot!

They'll shoot me anyway!

I've got to use what I've got, and this is what I've got.

Are you blackmailing me?

Someone has connections on high.

You took what was mine and you let me be shamed!

If she told me the truth, I could have done something.

But she didn't. She lied. She lied!