MARY: Everything but what I most want—security, John! That’s what every mother wants most! John—ever since you came back from the war—you’ve been restless and wild—like there was a fever inside of you—something that wouldn’t let you be still—it’s been ten years, John—surely you can quiet down now—get into something decent and live a quiet, normal life!
[Just then there is the rattle of a machine gun and the window is smashed.]
MARY [screaming]: What’s that?
JOHN [in a shrill whisper]: DUCK! THE LIGHTS! [He switches them off.] There! [Another burst of machine gun fire. A child’s voice is heard.]
CHILD’S VOICE: Mama! Mama! What’s that? [Another burst of fire. A child screams. Then Mary screams.]
JOHN [rushing to window]: I’ll get the sons of bitches!
MARY [turning on light]: John! John! It’s the baby!
[The child is discovered on the floor, struck down by machine gun fire. Loud cries from the neighbors; a policeman’s whistle; general confusion. John stands at the window with his pistol cocked, his eyes wildly gleaming.]
JOHN: Machine guns, eh? Been a long time, Mary, since I’ve heard that sound—dodged bullets—raised a gun to shoot back! Ten years. The last time—Argonne—and Belleau Woods—and Château-Thierry—the war’s not over, Mary—the armistice was a fake! [He laughs wildly.] The whole thing was just a big fake!
[The lights are extinguished.]
PART III
[Scene: a cell in the state penitentiary, several years later. Condemned Man’s Row. John is in prison uniform seated on cot, a newspaper in his hands. Mary is weeping.]
JOHN [harshly]: I see by the paper that Mayor Kelly made an armistice speech today—yeah, out at Memorial Park—swell speech—you oughta read it, Mary—it would give you a damned good laugh—He has a fine gift for language—very eloquent, as they say— Listen to this, for instance! Down here at the bottom, he says, “We come here today to Honor the dead—But at the same time we must not forget to bestow some measure of praise and appreciation upon the living! We must not forget to honor the living—as well as the dead!” [To Mary.] That’s very fine, ain’t it? Yeah, that’s swell stuff! They’ve honored the living, all right. Remember those years right after the war, Mary, when I was so broken up inside that I couldn’t hold down a job, when I went practically begging from door to door, when I showed them my medals and my soldier’s cap and they said, Yeah, we can buy those things at the ten cents store? That was honoring the living, wasn’t it! Oh, I’m not whining, Mary! I guess I’ve got what’s coming to me all right! But I’d like to tell that Mayor a thing or two. I’d like to write him a farewell letter! Honor the living—yeah! Don’t even give them a fighting chance. . . . [He gets up and advances to the bars.] Honor the living! Honor the living! What a laugh that gives me! [He roars with laughter.] Tell us to get down on our knees and lick your bloody boots, that’s the honor you give us!