The Rose of No-man’s Land
This is a story set in November 1918 and deals with experiences of victims of World War I. As a soldier and a nurse suffer the consequences of war in a trench their parents talk about them and read their letters in joyous expectation of their imminent return home.
Two sets on stage:
A sand bagged trench occupies one side of the stage while a lounge room is the other side.
Switching from one scene to the other is done by lighting.
Characters:
A young soldier trapped by the enemy in a trench
somewhere in
A young nurse Jumps into the same trench to avoid the gunfire.
Mrs Bell is a widow and it is her son who is the soldier in the trench.
Mr Gibson is a returned solider and the nurse is his daughter.
Scene 1:
A loud explosion occurs and then the lights go up on a young soldier
in a trench covers his head as he is showered with the dirt flung by the
explosion. Another explosion occurs and suddenly a nurse jumps into the trench
beside the soldier.
NURSE: Soldier, are you hurt?
SOLDIER: What are you doing here? This is the front line.
NURSE: I saw you fall into the trench.
SOLDIER: You should be in the clearing station. Fritz is only fifty yards away.
NURSE: I was moving to another station and saw you fall back into the trench. I
thought you were hurt.
SOLDIER: Thanks.
The soldier cautiously peers over the top of the trench only to duck
down when gunfire flies over his head.
NURSE: They’ve got us marked. Keep your head low.
There’s another loud explosion and the soldier throws himself over
the nurse as more dirt rains down on them. Then he rolls off her.
SOLDIER: You alright?
NURSE: Yes.
SOLDIER: They’re trying to get a range on us. We’re sitting ducks.
NURSE: Can’t we move away?
SOLDIER: We’d be easy target practice. We’ve just gotta sit it out and hope ours get
their range before Fritz.
The nurse watches the soldier fix his bayonet.
NURSE: What are you doing?
SOLDIER: I’m out of amo.
NURSE: What does that mean?
SOLDIER: If they come over the top, all I can do is stick ‘em.
NURSE: Oh! Let’s hope they don’t come.
SOLDIER: I’ll agree with that.
NURSE: (pause for thought) We’re stuck here.
SOLDIER: (With a grin) Me mates’ll spit tacks when they find out I’ve spent the
night
in a trench with a nurse
NURSE: Don’t get ahead of yourself.
They settle side by side against the sandbags.
SOLDIER: What’s it like back at the station?
NURSE: We’re full and then some. We had a rush
of gas victims. (thinking
of the
effects) It’s terrible stuff.
SOLDIER: I can smell it on you.
NURSE: I was changing stations to get a rest from it. It was getting in my eyes and
lungs too.
The soldier takes out a pen and a small note pad and begins to
write.
NURSE: Do you keep a diary?
SOLDIER: Sort of. I’ve gotta tell ‘em at home about my nurse in the trench.
The nurse smiles at the soldier and shakes her head.
NURSE: You make it sound like a date.
SOLDIER: It is! It’s a date with destiny. It must have been fate that we were to meet
like this.
NURSE: I guess it must be.
The soldier continues to scribble.
NURSE: Do you write home often?
SOLDIER: As often as I can. How about you?
NURSE: I should write more.
SOLDIER: I find it hard to know what to write. I don’t want to sound frightened.
NURSE: Being frightened is nothing to be ashamed of.
SOLDIER: I’m supposed to be a soldier.
NURSE: I’ve never met a soldier who wasn’t frightened.
SOLDIER: Oh, yeah!
NURSE: Yes. You just don’t act that way.
SOLDIER: Well, that’s good.
There’s yet another explosion. The scene goes black and then there
are screams from the soldier and the nurse.
Scene 2:
Back in
MRGIBSON: (Off stage)
It’s only me Mrs Bell.
You’ve got mail!
MRSBELL: Come in Mr Gibson. Anything from the front?
MRGIBSON: (Appearing
with a limp) I’m afraid not.
MRSBELL: I wish there were some word.
MRGIBSON: I’m sure there will be soon.
MRSBELL: Cup of tea?
MRGIBSON: Lovely!
Mr Gibson sits and Mrs Bell pours tea as they talk.
MRSBELL: How long since you’ve heard from your daughter?
MRGIBSON: It must be six months. She was in
was
going behind the lines in
MRSBELL: The worst thing is not knowing.
MRGIBSON: I know.
MRSBELL: The things you hear about. I sit at night and wonder; is he alright; where is
he
now; what sort of danger is he in.
MRGIBSON: I’m sure he’s fine.
MRSBELL: Oh, I hope so because after that referendum vote they’ve got no support
from back home.
MRGIBSON: I don’t think I would go that far Mrs
Bell.
MRSBELL: Do you agree with the decision.
MRGIBSON: No, no.
MRSBELL: I’m sorry. I just get so angry. The thought of our sons and daughters
fighting over there, and others, still able bodied and gutless; walking
through
the streets of
Conscription is the only answer!
MRGIBSON: The majority said no.
Mrs Bell picks up her
knitting; she is knitting woolen socks.
MRSBELL: I don’t mean this to sound so wrong, Mr Gibson, but you don’t know how
it feels, knowing your son’s being shot at. I know your daughter is doing
a fine thing but she is behind the lines and away from the real dangers.
MRGIBSON: I got my gammy leg on a front line, Mrs
Bell.
MRSBELL: (feeling
guilty) Yes, I’m sorry. I just wasn’t thinking straight.
MRGIBSON: That’s alright. What your son is doing is a glorious, wonderful thing for
King
and country. We can be mighty proud of both of them.
Mr Gibson pours more tea
while Mrs Bell knits.
MRGIBSON: The efforts you ladies are putting in is something to be proud of too. I read
somewhere
that over 150 000 pairs of socks have been sent to the front.
MRSBELL: I knit a pair a day. It’s not much but it’s something.
MRGIBSON: It’s not only the socks, but the food parcels and the messages of
encouragement.
MRSBELL: There’s so little we can do.
MRGIBSON: It boosts morale and that’s a very important thing.
MRSBELL: I get so angry at these men who won’t go and fight. I’m afraid I really lost
my temper the other day.
MRGIBSON: In what way?
MRSBELL: I’ve been watching this boy for weeks now, walking about the town with
no intention of ding his duty. I couldn’t let it go any longer and I stood him up in the high street. I gave him a piece of my mind, I can tell you.
He just stared right through me. I gave him a white feather.
MRGIBSON: Do you know his name?
MRSBELL: Grey, I think. John Grey.
Mr Gibson looks horrified at Mrs Bell.
MRSBELL: What’s the matter, M Gibson.
MRGIBSON: Johnny Grey was one of the first to go to the war. He is home because he
suffers from shell shock.
The lights go down on he two parents deep in thought.