London Calling
a Battle of Britain extravaganza
by William M. Razavi
Blackout. The voice of Edward R. Murrow reporting from Trafalgar Square during an air raid.
Lights. The sound of "Germany Calling" and a brief news announcement from the Reich Ministry of Propaganda. We are in a smallish radio shack with a card table with a walking stick on along with some sort of antiquated broadcasting/listening device. There are several aircraft identification cards posted as well as numerous regulations and wartime propaganda materials.
A sign says No.12 Sq. RAF.
Nigel, a respectable looking pilot sits listening along with Evelyn, who has a pair of headphones on.
NIGEL: Disgraceful. Disgraceful.
Pause.
NIGEL: Well…don’t just sit there. Respond.
EVELYN: Me?
NIGEL: Well, of course you. Go ahead. Tell them something. Show them what we’re made of. We’re not going to take this war lying down. Give it right back to them.
EVELYN: London calling, London calling…this is the voice of Aldershot.
We will have the complete news in twenty minutes but first we’d like to talk to a frightened English girl. "I’m so frightened of those nasty Huns. They scare me so much. They would scare me more, but the R.A.F. keeps shooting them into flames and then the Germans come crashing into the garden. Mother says we’ll have to replant as soon as we get the Stuka out of the rosebush, but I think it’s the best place for one. Especially since the Browns next door have been uppity about having a Messerschmitt in front of their barn. Good thing the R.A.F. has been busy, otherwise we wouldn’t be able to have a German plane in front of every house." There you have it. A frightened English girl. This is the voice of Aldershot. We will have the complete news in nineteen minutes, but first this very important announcement.
NIGEL: The War Council would like to remind everyone that under the Geneva Convention a downed airman may receive no more than five wounds from a pitchfork, though these need not be restricted to the rump area. So remember, if you see a German, try not to tenderize them too much, or you’ll be considered a war criminal. R.A.F. commanders say that two good thrusts with a pitchfork are amply sufficient to disable the average German pilot, though several Scottish farmers have reported that the larger Bavarians can sometimes requite several swift kicks in the bucket as well.
Louise, a businesslike weather watcher enters.
EVELYN: This has been the voice of Aldershot. We will resume the news in seventeen and a half minutes.
LOUISE: That was nice.
EVELYN: I think so.
NIGEL: It was tolerable. My voice is terrible.
LOUISE: Your voice is lovely, Nigel.
EVELYN: It really is.
NIGEL: It’s not my best part.
LOUISE: Oh? And what is? Pray tell.
EVELYN: I think you’ve embarrassed the poor boy, Louise.
NIGEL: Evelyn. Isn’t that a boy’s name.
LOUISE: See. Nigel knows no shame.
NIGEL: I know no shame.
EVELYN: I’d like to see how far that goes.
NIGEL: I’m sure you wouldn’t.
LOUISE: Be careful, Evelyn. He’ll always be a pilot on the inside.
Pause.
LOUISE: Drinks at the pub tonight?
EVELYN: That’s a lovely idea.
Roger, a suave R.A.F. pilot enters.
ROGER: What’s the weather?
LOUISE: Cloudy for the next two days. There’s a break after that that might last all next week. Until then expect low ceilings.
ROGER: We’ll have a field day with Jerry until Wednesday.
LOUISE: Did you shoot down any today?
ROGER: We chased a pair of 109s across the Channel, but no luck.
NIGEL: Does anyone want tea?
EVELYN: I’ll go get it.
NIGEL: Thank you, Evelyn.
ROGER: Evelyn. Isn’t that a boy’s name?
EVELYN: Very funny, Lieutenant. Captain, didn’t you want today’s weather charts?
NIGEL: Today’s chart?
EVELYN: I believe you wanted it.
NIGEL: Yes. Yes, I did.
LOUISE: I’ll get it right away.
Evelyn exits. Louise kisses Roger.
LOUISE: I’ll see you tonight, love.
Louise exits. An uncomfortable pause.
NIGEL: What’s the word from Fighter Command?
ROGER: Have a smoke?
NIGEL: Tell me the news first.
ROGER: No luck, Nigel.
NIGEL: Why?
ROGER: Do you need a reason?
Nigel gets up, leaning on the table and picks up his cane. He walks with a pronounced limp.
NIGEL: They hate me.
ROGER: Don’t be daft. Dowding loves you.
NIGEL: You’d think the love of an Air Chief Marshall would be worth more.
ROGER: The staff doesn’t think that it would be a good idea.
NIGEL: Bader can fly–He’s an ace for God’s sake–and he has no legs.
ROGER: Bader was famous before he lost his legs.
NIGEL: So that’s how it is.
ROGER: That’s how it is.
NIGEL: Rotten. Rotten.
ROGER: Look at it this way…you have an easy job.
NIGEL: I want to fly. It’s what I do.
ROGER: It’s what you did.
Pause.
ROGER: You have the good life here. No danger…drinks…women. Why would you want to give that up? If I were you I’d enjoy spending the rest of the war here.
NIGEL: I’ll trade you.
Pause.
NIGEL: Who’s left from the old boys?
ROGER: Mallory, Smith, Owens, Fitzhugh. We lost O’Toole over London night before last.
NIGEL: What happened to Jones?
ROGER: Missing. Went down in the North Sea. I wouldn’t hold out much hope.
NIGEL: I won’t spend the rest of the war hiding behind a radio.
ROGER: What you do here is important.
NIGEL: I’m a pilot. I belong in the air.
ROGER: I’ll see what I can do.
Evelyn and Louise enter.
EVELYN: Who’s for tea?
LOUISE: Prime Minister has an important announcement, they say.
NIGEL: Let’s see what Winston has to say.
Radio goes on. Churchill speaks as the lights fade.
Berkeley Square–A dream of times past.
Music. Vera Lynn singing "A Nightingale Sang in Berkeley Square." Lights.
A dancehall with a bar. The girl at the bar, Irene, is wiping the countertop.
Nigel walks in, no limp, no cane. He walks right up to the bar. Shyly looks at Irene.
Irene smiles. She holds up one finger. He holds up two, in a V. She pours two pints for him. He gives her the other one. She smiles. He smiles. He looks over to the dance floor, where Roger and Louise are dancing slowly now. He looks back at Irene.
Irene smiles. They drink some more. She shows him a picture in a locket. They hold hands for a long moment. They finish their drinks slowly. Then he takes her hand and they slowly dance as the lights fade away and the song ends.
Lights. Back in the radio shack. Evelyn and Louise.
EVELYN: London calling, London calling. This is the voice of Aldershot. Today’s weather report is massive anti-aircraft fire for any German plane flying over England today–with scattered explosions of planes. Also, there will be fog along the banks of the Thames. News broadcast will be coming up in twenty one and one half minutes.
LOUISE: No sense giving Jerry the real weather.
EVELYN: I wonder if they’re lying about the weather in Berlin.
LOUISE: I suspect they’ve been lying about the weather in Berlin for several years now.
Pause.
EVELYN: What about Nigel?
LOUISE: He has difficulty lying about the weather.
EVELYN: That’s because he wants to see the clouds. Do you think he has a chance?
LOUISE: He’s better off on the ground. Most of his old squadron is either dead or invalided out. Roger didn’t have the heart to tell him about Mallory–they say he’ll live, but he’s burned beyond recognition.
EVELYN: It’s killing him to be here…while they’re all there.
LOUISE: It would kill him more to be dead.
Roger and Nigel enter wheeling in some bizarre looking contraption.
EVELYN: What is that?
NIGEL: This is going to win the war for us.
LOUISE: What is it?
NIGEL: We have no idea.
ROGER: Found it in the wreck of a Heinkel we took down last night.
NIGEL: It’s marvelous.
LOUISE: What does it do?
NIGEL: Well…
ROGER: Maybe it…
NIGEL: It looks like some sort of electronic device. I call it a dalek.
ROGER: Right smart name for it, that is.
LOUISE: But what does it do?
NIGEL: I’m sure it does something. Jerry wouldn’t be carrying something like this around if it didn’t do anything. Very efficient they are, you know.
ROGER: What’s say we have some drinks at the old Crown to celebrate this turning point in strange technology?
EVELYN: Capital idea.
Roger and Evelyn exit. Nigel fiddles with the device.
LOUISE: I’m glad to see you’ve found something on the ground that excites you, Nigel.
NIGEL: This is fascinating.
LOUISE: Now you won’t be pining away for silly things that will get you killed like the rest.
NIGEL: Silly. Of course.
LOUISE: Because it is silly, you know…when you don’t have to…I mean, you don’t have to seek out danger to impress anyone.
NIGEL: Amazing.
LOUISE: I just mean…I love you.
Pause.
LOUISE: I mean, Roger and I both care about you and…it’s hard enough for me…with Roger…well. I don’t know if any of this is making sense to you, but…
Pause.
NIGEL: I know what you’re saying, Louise. I do.
LOUISE: It’s just–
He goes to her and holds her for a second.
NIGEL: It’s a rotten thing, this war. Confuses us all. Just like that thing over there. Don’t know what it does–maybe it’s good for something.
Blackout.
The bar. Same as before but with more zippy music. Nigel and Louise enter. Evelyn and Roger are dancing. Nigel goes up to the bar. Louise cuts in on the dance. Roger switches out partners every so often.
IRENE: What’ll it be, Captain Miller?
NIGEL: Pint of scotch.
IRENE: Very funny. Are all ex-pilots that funny?
NIGEL: No, only the ones that still have hope. What’s the word from the Royal Navy?
IRENE: His Majesty’s fleet is still keeping my fiancé on the other side of the globe.
NIGEL: Well, the Royal Navy appears to be conspiring to keep you available. I’ll have to remember to write them in appreciation.
IRENE: That’s sweet of you.
NIGEL: And your brothers?
IRENE: Bertie’s in Egypt and Reggie’s in India. If they were here they’d show you what’s what, you scoundrel.
NIGEL: Me, a scoundrel?
IRENE: A cute scoundrel.
NIGEL: Cute? Are there any other men left in England?
IRENE: No, just you. Alright by me, though.
NIGEL: That’s sweet of you, Irene.
They watch the dancing for a while.
IRENE: Do you want to dance?
Pause.
IRENE: I’m sorry…That was silly of me.
NIGEL: It’s alright. It’s good to be asked.
Pause.
IRENE: You know…if it wasn’t for Charlie…well, I mean…
NIGEL: It’s alright. Good to be thought of…even in second place.
The dancing continues until the end of the song. Blackout.
The radio shack. Everyone other than Roger is sitting in urgent anticipation. Roger enters, casually.
ROGER: What’s–
EVELYN: Shhhh!
LOUISE [whispering]: We’re waiting for Winston.
ROGER: I see.
Nigel is still fiddling with the dalek.
NIGEL: I think I’ve figured out this thing.
LOUISE & EVELYN: Shhhh!
Churchill speaks. It is the "We Shall Fight Them Speech."
NIGEL: Well, that settles that.
LOUISE: What are you doing?
NIGEL: I’m transferring to the Royal Navy.
EVELYN: No!
LOUISE: Why?
NIGEL: I’m tired of reading weather reports.
LOUISE: You don’t read the weather reports, I do.
NIGEL: You know what I mean.
ROGER: You don’t like the sea, Nigel.
NIGEL: Of course I do. I’m English. We all love the sea. Let’s have fish and chips right now.
ROGER: This isn’t the Nigel Miller I know.
Pause.
NIGEL: Do you remember what it was like when Number 24 got Spitfires?
Pause.
ROGER: It was like giving Robin Hood machine guns.
NIGEL: Those were some days. We were something else. All of us.
ROGER: Most of us aren’t left.
Pause.
NIGEL: There’s nothing for me here.
Pause.
ROGER: How about some tea?
An uncomfortable pause.
LOUISE: I’ll get it.
Another uncomfortable pause.
EVELYN: I’ll go get the…other tea.
NIGEL: Roger–
ROGER: This is for you.
Roger gives Nigel a letter.
ROGER: Royal Navy Fleet Air Arm is organizing a squadron and sending it here. They’re putting it together right now and they’re not being very particular. Mostly young recruits…They could use someone with experience. It might save some lives.
NIGEL: I see.
ROGER: Hurricanes. Deathtraps when you go up against the Messerschmitt.
NIGEL: I’ll do my best.
ROGER: I know.
Pause.
ROGER: I’ll see you up in the clouds.
Blackout. Music.
Irene and Nigel stand. Nigel is in flight gear.
IRENE: Take care of yourself.
NIGEL: No more men left in England after me.
IRENE: It’s going to be a long war.
They embrace for a moment. Nigel walks away.
Nigel walks to Louise.
LOUISE: I don’t want you to go.
NIGEL: I have to do this.
LOUISE: Don’t get yourself killed.
NIGEL: Tell the Germans not to shoot at me.
LOUISE: I’ll…you know…I…
NIGEL: Goodbye.
They embrace. Nigel walks away. He walks over to Evelyn.
EVELYN: Going my way?
NIGEL: I’m going to see the clouds.
EVELYN: You don’t have to go.
NIGEL: I have to go. I’ve already said goodbye. That means I have to go.
Air raid siren–perhaps something like a triangle or cowbell going off.
NIGEL: That’s for me. I have to go.
EVELYN: I wish you could…I love you.
NIGEL: I’ll bring back the sky for you.
EVELYN: Then you’ll come back?
Pause.
NIGEL: I have to go. The World War is waiting on me.
They kiss. Music. Vera Lynn singing "We’ll Meet Again."
Nigel runs off.
Evelyn just stands there for a long, long moment as the song continues.
The lights slowly fade away.
"Never in the field of human conflict has so much been owed by so many to so few."
-- Winston Churchill