On November 11th, Remembrance Day, at the eleventh hour on the eleventh day of the eleventh month, we remember them.
"Old Soldiers" which started out as a short story, came about as a result of an interview with some old soldiers/veterans for a newspaper column that I was writing at the time. Was drawn back to the story over time and as is my habit, tweaked it over the years and somehow the main focus of the story, Joe McKenna, seemed to take on a life of his own, along with his service buddies. One of my many (big on this aspect) re-writes resulted in an attempt to turn it as a radio play that was entered in the BBC International Playwriting Competition. Needless to say it didn't win but thought I'd share the second scene in this blog. It's still in the editing process (so what else is new). Formatting went askew in places during cut-and-paste.
To set the stage so to speak, JOE MCKENNA is a disillusioned old veteran who saw action and is angry with the world. He and his buddies are relics from another era who are afflicted with a variety of debilitating conditions, and the death of one of them hits Joe particularly hard. He decides to make a personal statement to make his views known at a remembrance day service in a park and along the way fate steps in when he meets up with a young boy (TIM) and his mother.
SCENE: A PARK.
AT RISE: Joe McKenna is slowly making his way to where the Remembrance Day service is taking place in a park. His body racked with pain, he stops to sit down on a bench. A military band can be heard in the distance playing band music and the voice speaking through a loud speaker system.
JOE: Look at ‘em all! Sheep – a bunch of bloody sheep!
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By: scriberess,
on 11/7/2015
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Blog: A. PLAYWRIGHT'S RAMBLINGS (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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YOUNG BOY: Mister – where are the sheep?
JOE: Huh? What you talking about, son?
TIM: You said something about seeing sheep. Where are they?
JOE: I meant… No sheep. Just talking to myself, is all
TIM: I like marching bands. Last Christmas I marched in the Santa Claus parade with one of the elves
JOE: That’s nice. Now you go find your mom…
TIM: See her over there? Reading a book? My mom told me that it's important we come here every year. She didn’t tell me why, though…
JOE: You better go or she’ll come looking for you, besides, you shouldn’t talk to strangers
TIM: She said I could go play if I stayed where she could see me. If I can see see her then she can see me. Are you a soldier?
JOE: I was, a long, long time ago. Guess I’ll always be a soldier in my heart.
TIM: How come you’re dressed different than the others?
JOE: Look sonny boy – I don’t think your mom would like you talking to strange, old men so you better go stay with her
TIM: I’ll just wave at her so she’ll know everything is okay. ‘Hi mom! This man is a soldier too! Is it okay if I talk to him?’
JOE: Oh G-d. That’s all I need now. Talking to strange kiddies… I’m out’ta here…
TIM: My mom is coming over to say hi so you can talk to her
JOE: I don’t think so, kid. Shoot! I’m behind in my schedule!
BOY’S MOM (BETH) You know you’re not supposed to talk to strangers! We’ve discussed this a million times…
TIM: I know mom but he was a soldier, too. Look – he’s wearing a uniform
BETH: Why don’t you go play on the swings over there, Tim
TIM: But I why can’t I talk to him? What are those ribbons for, mister?
BETH: Well…because… Oh look! There are some kids throwing a a ball around. Why don’t you go join them?
TIM: But…
BETH: Go play, Timmy. Now!
JOE Don’t blame you for telling him that. Heaven knows I tried! Look…if you don’t want him talking to me, that’s fine. I got places to go – things to do, anyway
BETH: Tim is such a trusting boy. Loves the world. These days that can be a fatal fault. Takes after his great grand-dad, G-d rest his soul
JOE: Trust me lady that I didn’t initiate the conversation. I was just sitting here on this bench resting a bit. Your boy was just being a kid
BETH: I’m assuming by your uniform that you were in the army. Which war?
JOE: Does it make a difference? War is war. Shoot! I’m way behind now…
BETH: Didn’t mean any disrespect. It just came out. My grandfather wore the same uniform. Such a strong man but he was never the same when he returned. A fraction of his former self
JOE: Weren’t we all. Nice talking to you but…
BETH: Have we met before?
JOE: Doubt it given the big difference in our age. Do you work in the Vet Hospital, he asked, hoping to get an “in” there…
BETH: Maybe we don’t know each other but I’ve seen your face…but where…
JOE: I used to play checkers here in the park but that ain’t gonna happen anymore…
BETH: Sorry. Don’t wanna keep you. I gotta be somewhere else, myself
JOE Nice meeting you…
BETH: …Beth…
JOE You don’t look like you’re dressed nearly warm enough to be in a park this time of the year. Maybe you and the kid should go home and put on some warmer clothes. Well – it’s been interesting…you’ve got a sweet and trusting little boy
BOY’S MOM Takes after his great-grandfather. Sweetest man in the world, he was. That’s why I’m here – and dressed like this. I’m burying him after the memorial ceremonies. He was a soldier so he’s getting full military honors. In fact if I don’t get a move on, I’m gonna be late ‘Tim – come on. We have to go!’
JOE: Would you mind sharing the name of your grandfather with a stranger you just met? Could be we knew each other
BETH: Percy… Percy Albertson
JOE: Can’t be…not possible… This is too much. Percy was my best friend in war and in peace. In fact, me and the last of our platoon buddies are gonna be at his funeral. You’re – Percy’s granddaughter? Never even knew he had a daughter ‘til I read his obit in the paper. Is your mother here? Would be great to meet Percy's old lady and I’m sure the others would, too
BETH: She passed a year ago of a heart attack. Lived in a small apartment and kept it like a shrine devoted to gramps. Funny thing is they rarely spoke to each other. Some kind of stupid fued or the other and then they separated. Sad. I never had the chance to meet him.
JOE: Old Perce was a stubborn and proud man. He should’a gone t’live in the VA hospital years ago but he always refused them. Instead he existed from hand-to-mouth and never enough money to pay for medication. I mean, what are the odds that you and me should meet?
BETH: Now I remember where we met. At the pub a long time ago, when I was a little girl! I visited the place a couple of times with my grand-dad. Listen – if you’re alone here, why don’t we attend the funeral together? I know my son would be happy and so would my grand-dad for sure
JOE: Thanks for the invite but I…got plans…hav’ta do something…for Percy…
BETH: Please – it would make me so happy and my grandparents would have wanted this. I’d like that we get to know each other and maybe you have some photos you could share of him and you during the war. It would be nice if my son got to know his great-grandfather through you
JOE: Perhaps we could meet there, after … You’ll have to excuse me. Got an important appointment
TIM: What do you have to do?
BOY’S MOM: Stop asking him so many questions, Timmy. The man has to go and. that’s that. Maybe we’ll see him later
TIM: Can I thank you
JOE: Thank me - for?
TIM: My mom says we should thank old soldiers for fighting to help us stay free. Didn’t you tell me that, mom?
BETH: I did say that – and I meant it. Not only old soldiers – all soldiers. Thank you from me and my son…you never told me your name
JOE: Joe. Joe McKenna
BETH: You’re “the” Joe? My grandfather spoke fondly of you, all the time! Fate must have arranged for our meeting
JOE: Wouldn’t put it past Old Percy to arrange this. I really gotta leave now.
TIM: Look – I can salute! I practiced at home.
JOE: You do that well. You take good care of your son
BETH: Listen – if you have nothing planned after the funeral, perhaps you’d at least join us for a bite to eat?
JOE: Maybe another time…
BETH: Of course. I’m just being selfish. Here – let me give you my phone and cell numbers. Give me a call if you’d like to join us
JOE: I’m really running late now…Nice meeting you both…
TIM: Have a good day! I’m going to salute all the soldiers at the ceramo…cerrro…
JOE: …ceremonies
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