Chapters (10)
WILLIAM: Their culture is more authentic than ours. We Australians have assumed the garb of a hand-me-down culture, but at our heart is a desert. For their appalling ignorance and pathetic beliefs they at least have a real core, an essence.
ELIZABETH: When you’re in your cups you have a disturbing tendency to philosophise. I know this mood of yours: no sarcastic remarks about Singapore at the dinner.
WILLIAM: Why shouldn’t I? The pompous ass said only a month ago that Singapore was impregnable. Thousands of Australians are in prison camps because of British stupidity. Betsheb.
BETSHEB turns to him. He motions at the sky.
Tempest time.
BETSHEB looks up at the sky.
Probably tonight.
BETSHEB: [smiling] Yes.
WILLIAM: You’d better get Ayre in. ’Bye, Ayre. Mac. ’Bye, Betsheb. I’ll see you tomorrow.
MAC picks up AYRE and carries her inside.
She won’t allow the nurses to touch her.
ELIZABETH: She’s not long for this world.
WILLIAM: Probably not.
ELIZABETH: [sarcastically] But you’ve still got her voice on record. Don’t be a hypocrite. You’re glad that they’ve been hidden away; you’ve had them all to yourself. If you don’t recognise that, then you’re blind. We had better hurry, the Governor doesn’t like to be kept waiting.
They exit.
SCENE FIVE
On one side of the stage FRANCIS, in army uniform with greatcoat covering his shoulders, writes by lamplight. On the other is the asylum gardens, night. BETSHEB washes a naked STEF with a bucket and sponge.
FRANCIS: My darling Betsheb, tomorrow morning I go into battle for the first time. The German planes have been pounding us since we arrived.
BETSHEB washes STEF’s body as he makes wind noises. Both seem very happy. WILLIAM enters and, unnoticed, watches the pair.
Crete is desolate and rocky. Why should we defend this country? We are fighting over a place as desolate as the moon.
BETSHEB washes STEF’s face. He laughs and then rolls away. She catches him and continues to wash his face.
When we arrived we ran into a local priest who had lost both his legs. He felt sorry for us and said: ‘This is a bad world and you have lost your way in it.’ It was easy to see what he meant. The paddocks were covered in burning tanks and dying men. I imagine a battle is like being caught in a butcher shop that is burning down.
BETSHEB washes STEF’s groin.
BETSHEB: [softly, singing]
Hey, hey,
The girlie say,
Rub a dub, dub,
Spoonin’ in the hay.
FRANCIS: It is said that if we win here, then we’ll stop the Germans and the war will end. There will be a peace. But will I be alive to see it?
BETSHEB tickles STEF’s feet. He laughs wildly, she joins in. Their laughter is joyous.
Betsheb, I am scared. I do not want to die.