how many does that make it harry? harry it's not something i count.
how many trench? harry trench can't count. trench grabs harry in a neck hold. he lets go as he spots another friend of theirs, lieutenant castelton, sitting in a bathtub, staring out. trench sneaks up on castelton, and ducks his head under the water. castelton comes up, spluttering. he reaches for a bar of soap and hurls it after trench.
anna what's-her-name's father more like. don't think we're going to take you any more seriously when you're promoted. willoughby we'll see about that. a chorus of mocking 'ooohs' from the others. trench notices castleton staring out of the window. trench what's so interesting about a london street?
i think so. harry watches durrance, a little uncomfortably, as if he's holding something back. ext. party.  india office building.  london - night. carriages line the entrance to the india office. indian valets in turbans and robes escort the guests to the entrance, holding umbrellas over them. the five friends crowd under a single umbrella. willoughby makes sure he's in the middle, he doesn't want to get his uniform wet. trench nudges him into the rain. int. the durbar court.  party.  india office - night. palm trees and fountains dominate the room. the ladies are dressed in ballgowns, the officers in regimental colours. the full pomp and ceremony of empire is on display. harry, durrance, willoughby, castelton and trench have gathered by the bar, a little overawed by the occasion. trench i'm going to ask someone to dance. willoughby you said that ten minutes ago. trench i'm waiting for castelton. castelton stares at the aristocratic women, paralysed with shyness. trench . just look dreamy. i'll do the talking. durrance smiles as he listens to them. he turns to harry.
can you see ethne? harry not yet. harry seems uneasy again. we sense there's something on his mind, something he wants to tell durrance. durrance doesn't pick up on it. he finishes his whisky and looks back into the throng.
congratulations. harry how did you know?
nothing escapes me harry.  i'm delighted for you both.
i'll still blame him. harry you were the one who introduced us.
did i? i'll be more careful next time. durrance takes harry in his arms, slapping him on the back. willoughby, trench, and castleton appear behind them, realising something's up. durrance turns to them, beaming:
three guesses for trench, one for everyone else. the friends let out a cheer as they realise what's happened. they crowd harry and ethne, congratulating them. int. dance area.  the durbar court.  india office - night. trench sweeps harry and ethne towards the dancefloor. trench . over there. where we can see you. and remember you're not married yet. harry takes ethne in his arms. harry alone at last. trench claps loudly as they dance. castleton looks embarrassed by his friend. behind them willoughby congratulates dermod and general feversham. int. bar area.  the durbar court.  india office - night. durrance watches the celebrations from the bar. he's smiling to himself, but it's the glazed smile of someone who's forcing himself to be happy. a quiet voice interrupts him: caroline o. s wonderful news isn't it? durrance turns around to see caroline, ethne's friend, gazing at him.
yes it is.
i knew it was just a matter of time. what can i get you to drink?
i'd ask you to dance, only i'm not sure how steady i am on my feet.
i listen to them laugh, and i can't help wondering which ones won't be coming back. the worse part is i think i even know who they are. harry am i one?
of course not harry. you're one of the lucky ones. always have been. harry picks up the reference to ethne but doesn't say anything. more laughter filters through. harry stares out in the darkness, tormented.
what are you thinking? harry i'm wondering what a godforesaken desert in the middle of nowhere has to do with her majesty the queen.
ask willoughby. he's on the colonel's staff. harry i know what he'll say: 'it's not for us to question.' do you ever ask yourself why you're going?
not for the queen. i hardly know her. nor for the regiment. there isn't much of a military tradition in my family.  i suppose i'm going because you're going. you, and trench, and castelton, and willoughby.  not much of a reason i know, but it reassures me. harry smiles, but durrance's words only make him feel more ashamed of the fear he feels inside. harry is there anything that frightens you, jack?
i'm frightened of not coming back in one piece. much more than dying. i wouldn't know what to do with myself in a wheel chair. and i couldn't stand to be pitied. he puts the thought out of his head and grins.
there's a church near our house. next to the pub. every night at ten the drunks spill out, shouting at the top of their voices. that's where i want to be buried. where i can hear them. harry nothing's going to happen to you.
it's out of our hands anyway. might as well sleep easy.  durrance rolls on his side. harry looks back at the fireplace, as the last embers fade. ext. regimental courtyard - dawn. a cold blue light hangs over the barracks. the courtyard is empty, except for a few sentries on duty. wagons pull in, loaded with supplies. int. harry and durrance's room.  barracks - dawn. harry buttons his uniform. he looks as if he hasn't slept. he turns to durrance. his friend is still asleep. harry hesitates. he wants to wake him up, and talk, but in the end he turns away, and leaves the room. ext. regimental courtyard - dawn. harry walks slowly toward the regimental office. he glances up at the regimental flag, flying beside the union jack. int. adcs' rooms.  the regimental office - dawn. willoughby looks up from his desk as harry walks in. willoughby . harry. you're up early. harry smiles awkwardly but doesn't say anything. willoughby senses something's wrong. willoughby . what's the matter? harry looks at him for a moment, but then turns to colonel hamilton's other aide-de-camp.
field marshall willoughby.  willoughby doesn't smile. he looks ashen faced.
what's the matter? castelton and trench look up. willoughby it's harry.  he's resigned. trench resigned what? willoughby his bloody commission. what do you think?! there's a long silence. no-one knows quite what to say. durrance finally speaks.
what did hamilton do? refuse him leave? willoughby hamilton didn't do anything. harry went to see him of his own accord. right after they changed our deployment. castelton looks at trench, as the insinuation sinks in. trench . it's just a coincidence. he's having second thoughts about leaving ethne. willoughby he was happy to leave her behind when we were going to india. no doubts then.
what's that supposed to mean? willoughby you tell me. he resigns his commission the very day we're sent to war.
harry's the best soldier in this regiment. willoughby obviously not when it counts.
why don't you say that to his face.
no. nothing. durrance remembers his conversation with harry the previous night.
will you forget about your bloody regiment for once!
it's forgotten. durrance keeps staring into the crowd below. ext. wharf.  london docks - night. harry stares up at the ship, a ghost amongst the cheering faces. the soldiers at the rails look like specks, but harry knows his friends are somewhere up there. ext. officer's stand.  wharf.  london docks - night. a line of retired officers, salute as the vessel finally sets off. amongst them is general feversham, harry's father. he stands at attention.
i think they're trying to frighten us off. we should keep pressing forward. willoughby offers durrance his water flask. durrance takes a drink.
it's bloody whisky. willoughby my camel drinks the water. ext. burnt out fortress.  desert - day. as the camels tread their way through the sun baked shingles a ghostly fortress appears on the horizon. the men start loading their rifles instinctively. ext. courtyard.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. all that's left of the fortress is a grim skeleton. the union jack lies ripped to shreds, halfway down its flagpole. the british soldiers gaze at the destruction. their camels sense their tension and rear a little in the eerie silence. as ever, trench is the first to break the ice. trench i don't know about you lot, but i'm going to grab a drink before mustapha does. "mustapha" the camel whinnies as if he's understood every word. the men start laughing.
the water's probably poisoned. trench mustapha, be my guest. there's more laughter. durrance smiles but his eyes are still alert. above the fortress tower he sees a flock of birds taking flight, rising up gracefully towards the desert sun. suddenly amidst the laughter and chatter, one of the soldiers topples off his camel. his friends laugh: friends . capshaw you dosy bastard.  . camilla's tired him out.  capshaw doesn't move. castelton's the first to realise something's wrong. he jumps off his camel and turns capshaw over. half the soldier's face has been blown off. raw bone glistens underneath. castelton rears back in horror.
keep him pinned. he's up in the tower. castelton unleashes a volley of shots. durrance moves quickly to the other side of the hutment and climbs out of the window. ext. courtyard.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. the camels circle around themselves in panic. trench weaves his way between the rearing animals, protecting himself from the sniper. a shot rings out and spits dust in his face. trench you bastard.  ext. outer perimeter.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. durrance runs around the back of the fortress, breathing hard. ext. courtyard.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. a second shot spins trench round, grazing him in the arm. trench you bastard! a third shot narrowly misses. trench is up and running now, not waiting for the fourth. trench you bastard! you bastard! you bastard! ext. outer perimeter.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. durrance has a clear view on the sniper's tower now. from below he can see the man's rifle edge out, fire, and then withdraw. durrance heads quietly towards the tower stairs. ext. stairs.  sniper's tower.  burnt out fortress - day. several of the steps are missing from the rickety stairway. durrance climbs over them as lightly as he can. up above he can hear the sniper's rifle ringing out. ext. castelton's hutment.  burnt out fortress.  desert - day. castelton fires another round at the sniper's tower. trench sits on the floor, cursing as he bandages his grazed arm. ext. sniper's tower.  burnt out fortress - day. durrance raises his head cautiously. at the tower window he sees the dervish sniper firing his rifle. durrance hesitates. he could kill the man easily, but it would mean shooting him in the back. he can't bring himself to do it:
drop it! the dervish sniper stops still. he turns around slowly and looks durrance in the eye. a contemptuous smile flickers across his face. very slowly, he takes a bullet from his pocket and slips it in the rifle. he doesn't even look at durrance. there's a terrifying, suicidal calm about him. durrance studies his enemy, admiring his utter contempt for death, and then fires two bullets into his head. ext. tents.  the british camp.  suakin.  sudan - night. bonfires flicker across the british camp. durrance sits outside his tent, bathed in firelight, watching some bedu dancers performing for the british troops. he seems far away, as if he's thinking about the day's kill. trench's braying voice snaps him out of his reverie. trench look at this beauty.  trench sits down between durrance, castelton, and willoughby. trench it's true what they say. you haven't lived until you've been shot.
couldn't be better. willoughby sees the haunted look in his eyes, but doesn't say anything. a seargent-major interrupts. sergeant-major lieutenant durrance, colonel hamilton would like to see you in his tent, sir. trench poor willoughby, they've passed you over. willoughby grabs a handful of sand and throws it at trench. durrance gets up to see what hamilton wants. ext. colonel hamilton's tent.  british camp.  suakin - night. colonel hamilton sits at a fold-up table, eating his dinner by candlelight. he turns around as durrance walks in. he wipes his face with his knapkin and gestures for durrance to sit.
we killed one dervish sniper, sir.
i really don't need, or deserve any leave.
with your permission, i'd like to stay here with the rest of the regiment.
yes sir, why me? hamilton pauses. then almost mischievously:
with all due respect sir, i don't think we've been fighting long enough to have any heroes in this campaign.
yes sir?
the freedom sir. the fact that one is reduced to what one really is. colonel hamilton smiles softly, wondering if durrance is insulting him, not giving a damn. ext. desert between egypt and sudan - day. a searing white sun hangs over the desert. somewhere amidst the rolling dunes and floating dust we see a caravan of camels, winding its way through the plateau. ext. caravan.  desert between egypt and sudan - day. harry rides at the front of the caravan with gustave, a sun blackened french slave-driver. behind them ride saadi, his dinka assistant, and three beautiful dinka slavegirls. gustave . the british soldiers rent my girls off me for three dhirrams an hour. well worth the trip to suakin. harry smiles distractedly. his eyes are fixed on the majestic landscape before him, miles and miles of rolling desert. gustave don't fall in love too quickly. nothing turns on you like the sand. he looks back at the dinka slavegirls, who are whispering amongst themselves. gustave shut up!!.  keep them quiet! what do i pay you for?! saadi says something to the slavegirls in their native dinka tongue. from the deference in his voice it's clear the women are from a higher caste than him. ext. desert between egypt and sudan - day. a breeze blows sand-drifts across the desert floor. as a veil of dust clears, harry sees the bones of a camel, forming a perfect skeleton on the floor. gustave bones are a good sign. we must be near a well. ext. well.  desert between egypt and sudan - day. the skeletons lie thick around the well: six or seven men in bedu robes, sprawled within yards of the precious water. gustave what else is there to fight for in a desert. at least it makes sense of war. saadi hoists some water up in a goatskin canteen. he offers the canteen to gustave. the french slave-driver is about to take a drink when he hears one of the dinka slavegirls murmuring in her native tongue. he wheels his camel around angrily. gustave what did she say? before saadi can make an excuse for her, the dinka slavegirl starts cursing in her native tongue, her eyes fixed on gustave. gustave lashes out with his whip. the slavegirl's camel rears, throwing her to the floor. gustave rides towards her, raising his whip, ready to beat her. harry's camel suddenly lurches between them. at first it looks like he's lost control of the animal, but as he steadies his mount, it becomes clear he's put himself in gustave's way. gustave sneers. with inch perfect skill, he starts to circle harry, trying to get a clear view of the girl. with equal skill, harry twists his own camel round, keeping her blocked from him at every turn. gustave grows impatient. he raises his whip, threatening harry. harry doesn't flinch. his eyes are fixed on gustave the whole time. finally gustave backs down, intimidated by the mysterious stranger. he stares at harry, half in anger, half in admiration. gustave you ride well. with that he rides his camel back to the well. the dinka slavegirl doesn't look at harry. she's too proud to acknowledge his help. int. cave.  desert between egypt and sudan - night. a howling sandstorm blows outside the cave. the camels screech in the night, terrified by the wind. saadi and the dinka girls shelter in the furthest corner of the cave. harry and gustave sit by a flickering fire. gustave . what's your secret? anyone who talks as little as you do must be hiding something? did you kill a man? harry prods the fire, ignoring him. gustave turns around as he hears saadi and one of the dinka girls whispering. gustave taiser vouz! silence. gustave turns back to harry, looking pleased with himself. gustave you have to break them. for their own good. they'll only be happy again when they forget what it's like to be free. it's like a man who's been thrown over by a woman. at first he's defiant, then he's determined, but finally he longs to forget. harry gets up and walks to the other side of the cave. he hears gustave chuckling behind him. gustave . any secrets you have, the desert will find you out. ext. pass.  cliffs.  desert between egypt and sudan - night. a screaming gale howls through the desert pass. int. cave.  desert between egypt and sudan - night. it isn't the storm that wakes harry up, but the sound of whispering. gustave is snoring by the fire. harry looks past him. he sees saadi and the dinka slavegirl he rescued earlier, lying in each other's arms, making love as quietly as they can. harry can't help staring. their act seems to represent the ultimate defiance, he ultimate affirmation of their freedom. he feels a spark of hope in their hope. saadi and the dinka slavegirl finally come to rest in each other's arms. harry listens as they continue to whisper in their native tongue. he's about to close his eyes when suddenly the dinka slavegirl gets up. harry watches curiously as she walks across the cave. she picks something off the floor. as she walks towards gustave harry suddenly sees that it's a sharp jagged rock. before harry can say anything the girl falls to her knees and buries the rock deep into gustave's face. almost simultaneously harry feels a sharp crack on the back of his head. he rolls away instinctively, but to no avail. the blows rain down. as he tries to protect his face, harry sees saadi, holding a thick wooden club over him. the club hammers down, splitting harry's fingers, tearing into his face, knocking any resistance out of him. as he stares up listlessly, harry sees saadi standing over him, ready to finish him off. suddenly a voice rings out, a woman's voice, calling saadi off. harry's eyes drift away. int. army. navy club - london - day. we see ethne's face now, staring out. for a moment we think she's part of harry's dream, but then the familiar noises of reality fade in, and we realise she's amongst a crowd of officers and journalists, listening to durrance lecturing about the sudan:
each moment we delay, we imperil general gordon's life. the mahdi is concentrating all his forces on khartoum. at most the garrison can hold out for a few more weeks.  ext. army. navy club - london - day. durrance stands at the club entrance with ethne and her friend, caroline adair.
i'm glad you came. durrance tries not to stare at ethne too hard.
i'm afraid i have to give another talk.
six what?
do you want to go somewhere else?
it grows on you. there's something about all that emptiness that concentrates the mind.
you spend a lot of time thinking about the people you miss -- especially at night -- you have the most vivid dreams, it's hard to believe they're not real.  he stops as he sees the sadness in her eyes, reminded of the barrier between them.
have you heard from harry?
i went to see general feversham. he refused to discuss it with me.
he's one of the people i think about all the time.
friday.
are you sure i can't persuade you to stay in london a few more days? listen to more of my boring lectures.
i really would like to see you again before i leave. there's something touching about durrance's shyness: a contradiction between the fearless warrior and the tentative lover. ethne feels torn, but she wills herself on:
the colonel seems to be taking a fair bit of credit. they smile as they watch colonel hamilton holding forth. willoughby so you had a good time in london?
better than i thought. willoughby did you look up harry?
nobody knows where he is. willoughby not even ethne?
why should she? she's broken off their engagement. willoughby notices the edge in his voice but doesn't say anything. durrance feels a touch of guilt, surprised by his own jealous reaction. int. harry's room.  local hotel.  suakin.  sudan - night. harry studies his face in the mirror: his blisters have dried into tough leathery skin, his eyes are hollow from recent hardships. he whispers to himself in broken arabic, and dips his fingers into a dark, mud like substance. he applies it to his hair, his beard, and his teeth. ext. coolies.  british camp.  suakin - day. long lines of desert africans have gathered outside the british camp, looking for work as coolies. there are nuers, dinkas, somalis, ethiopians, all of them wearing different clothes, and speaking different languages. somewhere amongst them, we see harry, disguised in his bedu robes. he's being examined by a british seargent-major and an egyptian orderly.
there's a sandstorm coming. colonel hamilton looks at the clear blue sky, seeing nothing to indicate a storm, but trusting durrance's instincts. ext. desert camp - night. harry and the other coolies gather sticks and desert shrubs, building a makeshift wall around the camp. the wind has picked up, blowing thick gusts of sand in their faces. as they work in the darkness and the dust, harry hears the whining sound he heard earlier. it's quieter now, but closer. abou fatma hears it too. harry it's coming from inside the camp. they look around, but the dust obscures everything. the whining starts up again. harry concentrates until he thinks he knows where it's coming from. he checks to make sure the orderlies aren't watching them, and then signals for abou fatma to follow him. ext. edge of the desert camp - night. through the drifting clouds of sand we see a figure crouching near the camp perimeter. it's the nuer tribesman harry noticed earlier. every time the wind picks up he calls out to the surrounding cliffs in a high piched whine. harry and abou fatma watch him from behind a wagon. abou fatma draws a knife from his boot. harry we need to find out who he's signalling. abou fatma replaces the knife reluctantly, and points to a makeshift corrall where the camels are gathered. int. tent.  desert camp - night. the tent flaps blow in the storm. trench, castelton, and willoughby shelter inside, sharing a bottle of whisky. durrance sits apart from the others, reading a letter. trench is that the same letter you read over and over again, or do you get a different one each day?
it's the same one, but it's twenty pages long. willoughby he writes them to himself. go on jack, read us a line.
read your own. trench don't be so coy, you're amongst friends. grins all around. durrance looks at letter and tempts them with a single line:
". i often think about our walks by the river" he stops enigmatically to a chorus of protest: trench more, more.  durrance hesitates, reluctant to break the confidence of a letter, but anxious to broach the subject with his friends.
". your letter surprised and delighted me. if i appear indecisive it's because i'm thinking of both of us. in the meantime i hope the length of my reply gives you some assurance of how very much i care about you" durrance lowers the letter and looks at his friends. trench so who's the lucky lady?
ethne. i've asked her to marry me. you probably gathered that from the letter. there's a long silence. astonishment. then suddenly trench raises his glass and roars. trench congratulations. willoughby that's fantastic jack.
she hasn't said yes. trench of course she will: "i hope the length of this reply gives you some idea of how much i bloody love you."
"how much i care about you." trench same thing. trench fills his glass to the brim. durrance laughs, relieved that his friends have taken it so well. it's only as he drinks that he catches a hint of disapproval in castelton's eyes. castelton raises his glass, trying to hide his feelings, but durrance sees through him. the moment is interrupted by loud shouting outside: british corporal o. s . something's up with the camels.
that's enough.  he kneels down beside abou fatma, staring into his eyes. abou fatma sees no mercy in his gaze, but at least there's a glimmer of curiosity.
why would you want to help us?
we'd better get the gatling gun out. ext. hills above the british camp.  desert valley - day. nuer scouts, daubed in yellow camouflage, appear out of the rocks. int. castelton's tent.  british camp.  desert valley - day. castelton walks into his tent and searches through his belongings. he finds one of his bibles, kisses it for luck, and slips it in his jacket pocket. as he turns around he sees trench grinning at him. trench you haven't got a spare one have you vicar? ext. slope of a hill.  desert - day. through thick gusts of sand we see hundreds of bare feet and horses' hooves moving up the desert slope. the sand at their feet pours back down the slope like an avalanche. ext. durrance's pov.  crest of the hill.  desert - day. as durrance gazes up, the first of the mahdi's army appear on the crest of the hill, a handful of scouts, riding back and forth, judging the british numbers. as the scouts disappear, a curtain of dust rises up behind them. as it settles, durrance sees thousands of figures appear along the length of the hill, their green banners fluttering in the wind. ext. british camp.  desert valley - day. across the camp, castelton and trench stare mesmerised, as another huge army appears on the opposite hill. this time their banners are black. panicked voices ring out. officers' voices form a square. form a square.  ext. crest of the hill.  view of the british camp - day. the mahdi's armies stare down from the wind whipped slopes, thousands of expressionless faces, listening to the british bugles shrilling down below. from above we see the british fighting square taking shape: red and khaki colors separating into units, the bright blue of the egyptian uniforms forming a larger wall around the perimeter. ext. british camp.  desert valley - day. the grenadier guards are crouched in formation, rifles ready. trench changes position, asking one of the other soldiers to swap with him, settling down next to castelton. trench you can't get rid of me that easily. castelton's fear seems to vanish in an instant. ext. green flagged army.  crest of the hill - day. a cry of allah akbar is picked up by thousands all along the ridge, turning into a deafening roar as the green flagged army finally charges. ext. british camp.  desert valley - day. durrance moves along the lines of riflemen, barking intructions over the wind.
fire at the horses. fire at will. a volley of shots answers his call. ext. green flagged army.  slope of the hill - day. enemy horses and riders collapse, sliding down the slopes. ext. desert valley - day. the british camp is shrouded in gunsmoke, flashes of orange light bursting through, the gatling gun wreaking havoc. ext. green flagged army.  foot of the hill - day. through the sand drifts, we see the camels' hooves rearing up, bursts of arterial blood as the bullets tear into their hide. the hadendoa spearmen leap over the walls of torn flesh, and charge the british lines in a suicidal frenzy. ext. castelton.  british camp.  desert valley - day. castelton aims at the painted warriors. every time he fires, someone falls. every time he kills, he murmurs a prayer. trench bites his lip so hard, his mouth fills with blood. he spits it out as he drops yet another man. ext. black flagged army.  foot of the hill - day. the dervish hordes keep coming, clambering over the bodies of their dead. ext. harry.  entrance to the valley - day. far away, at the entrance to the valley, harry can hear the screams of the wounded and dying. even the dervish warriors seem apprehensive. only the mahdi is calm, waiting for his moment. he raises his hand, and signals for the horsemen in british uniforms to charge. ext. durrance.  british camp.  desert valley - day. enemy bullets crackle past durrance's head, but he doesn't seem to notice. through the smoke and dust he sees hundreds of enemy dead, lying in blood smeared heaps. the dervish onslaught is less sustained now. the occasional straggler appears out of the haze and is blown away by a burst of gunfire. suddenly durrance hears the sound of a bugle. ext. castelton.  british camp.  desert valley - day. castelton and trench hear the bugle too. they stop firing as they see the remnants of the black flagged army retreating into the hills. there's a moments confusion and then a roar of celebration around the camp as the soldiers see a troop of british cavalry, riding out of the sand clouds towards them. ext. harry.  desert valley - day. harry stares in horror as he sees the british soldiers, breaking rank, waving at the charging riders, thinking they're british cavalry. harry kicks his horse and tries to weave his way out of the charging horde. ext. british camp.  desert valley - day. the british soldiers gather at the camp perimeter to welcome the approaching cavalry. ext. harry.  desert valley - day. harry charges through the red uniformed dervish ranks, ignoring orders to stay in line. at a signal from one of the dervish lieutenants, the horsemen raise their bows. ext. durrance.  british camp - day. durrance stares curiously as a flicker of sunlight streaks across the heads of the distant riders. he watches the approaching dust cloud, wondering why it's coming at them so fast. slowly he begins to make out the first figures. something about them isn't right. their uniforms hang too loosely. they ride too far apart. he reaches for his gun. ext. harry.  desert valley - day. harry breaks through the dervish line. behind him he hears the mounted archers stringing their bows. he drives his horse forwards, towards a lone british soldier, standing on the camp perimeter. ext. durrance.  british camp - day. durrance sees the lone rider, charging towards him, yelling at the top of his voice. he can't see the man's face or hear his voice, but he's convinced these riders are the enemy now. ext. durrance.  british camp - day. harry sees durrance aiming his rifle, a moment too late. the gunshot sends his horse spinning to the ground. he feels the weight of the animal pin him down. as he looks up he sees the dervish riders riding over him, letting their arrows fly. ext. british camp - day. the sky above flickers with light as the arrows catch the sun. the steel shafts hurtle down, plunging into exposed eyes and throats. all around him castelton sees soldiers totter and fall, arrows sticking out of them like quills. he pulls out his revolver and starts firing at the onrushing horses. ext. dervish riders.  perimeter of british camp - day. the dervish lances skewer the british soldiers as they try to run back to their lines. some of the dervish riders dismount and finish them off with their daggers, and their bare hands. ext. green flagged army.  slope of the hill - day. on the desert slopes, the retreating green flagged army wheels around and charges back into the fray. ext. willoughby.  british camp - day. willoughby looks up, and sees the mahdi's black flagged army, also swarming back towards the british ranks. ext. harry.  perimeter of british camp - day. harry is still pinned. he slits the dead horse's belly with his knife, and slides his leg under the gore. he gets to his feet and runs towards the fighting, desperate to reach his friends. ext. durrance.  british camp - day. duurance yells at the top of his voice:
close the square! close the square! castelton and trench fire at the charging horses. as they fall, the other grenadiers take courage, and rush at their riders, bringing them down in a volley of gunfire. the soldiers clamber over the dead bodies and link up with the rest of their square. ext. harry.  perimeter of british camp - day. harry can't see the british square reshaping, but he can see its rippling effect all along the dervish line. he cuts his way through like a beserker. whatever doubts and fears his civilized self felt his primitive self now rejects. he fights like a man possessed. ext. grenadiers.  british square - day. the british line pulls back, firing and reloading as it retreats. ext. willoughby.  perimeter of british camp - day. willoughby stares in horror at the bloodshed all around him. through the hellish smoke he sees abou fatma, still tied to the whipping post, staring at him in silent reproach. ext. grenadiers.  british square - day. castelton fires into the enemy ranks. he's out of ammunition. trench is retreating with the other grenadiers. he sees his friend stalling and yells: trench get back! get behind us! castelton doesn't hear him. his parade ground training is taking over. he lowers the rifle and fixes a bayonet on it. ext. harry.  amongst the charging dervishes - day. through the swarming ranks, harry glimpses castelton, standing alone with his bayonet poised. he calls out as well. ext. castelton - day. castelton hears nothing but the pounding of his own heart. the dervish warriors swarm towards him. he disembowels the first warrior, then swings his bayonet around to meet the next. the dervish impales himself, right up to his rib cage. castelton tries to pull his blade free, but the bayonet is locked in bone now. ext. trench.  retreating grenadiers.  british square - day. trench stares in horror as he realises what's happened. the noises around him seem to fade as he gazes at castelton, straining as he did in the training ground, trying to pull the bayonet free. ext. harry.  amongst the charging dervishes - day. harry runs as fast as he can, trampling over the dead soldiers and horses that litter the desert floor. ext. castelton.  isolated from the square - day. castelton tries to loosen the blade, but it's no use. he looks up to see a storm of painted faces, rushing towards him, spears pointed at his eyes and guts. somewhere amongst the screaming horde, he glimpses a familiar face, calling out. a smile flickers across his face. he mouths the words 'harry' as the first of the dervish spears sinks into his heart. ext. trench.  retreating grenadiers.  british square - day. trench screams in agony as he sees castelton disappear. he charges out of the retreating british line, swinging at everything in his way, breaking skulls and shattering bone. he's only yards away from castelton when a blow to the back of the head sends him sprawling. ext. durrance.  retreating grenadiers.  british square - day. durrance charges out of the british square as he sees his friends fall, firing round after round into the enemy ranks. every time his gun empties, he picks up another from a dead soldier, and keeps going. ext. harry.  amongst the dervishes - day. harry drops to his knees, next to castelton's body, protecting his friend's corpse from further abuse. ext. trench.  amongst the dervishes - day. trench stares up at the nightmare faces crowding all around him. the butt of a spear cracks open his head, reducing everything to a terrifying silence. he feels a sea of hands, reaching down, tearing his uniform, lifting him in the air. ext. durrance.  walking towards the dervishes - day. durrance charges towards the enemy, firing into their massed ranks, oblivious to any danger. one of his guns jams. durrance keeps pressing the trigger. the gun suddenly backfires and blows up in his face. ext. harry.  amongst the dervishes - day. harry sees durrance fall. he gets up and runs through the enemy ranks, pretending to be one of them. he leaps on durrance as he tries to get up, pinning him to the ground, stopping him getting himself killed. the unsuspecting dervish warriors sweep past them, towards their next victims. harry keeps durrance pinned, until the enemy hordes disappear. only then does he stand up. he looks down at his friend. durrance doesn't seem to recognise him. at first harry thinks it's the sunlight blinding him, but then he sees the powder burns around durrance's eyes. durrance gropes around. he starts crawling away on his hand and knees. he crawls right into a mud bath of dervish dead. he rears back in horror, and lets out a little cry of panic. harry slowly begins to understand. he watches in anguish, as his friend claws at his eyes, trying to rub the blindness out of them, his whimpers of panic turning into howls of agony. int. british hospital ship.  alexandria - day. the screams of the wounded british soldiers echo all around the hospital ship. captain calder, the regimental surgeon, stands over durrance's bed. durrance stares out, blindly.
is it part of your treatment to offer false hope?
i'll read it later. if you wouldn't mind, doctor.  he hands the letter back to calder to read for him.
don't. there's something strident in durrance's voice, a brittleness that hides the insecurity inside. calder continues:
i knew a man once who went blind, a good man too, before. a year after you wouldn't have recognised him. he was the most selfish, exacting, egotistical human being you could ever meet. i wouldn't wish him on anyone.  he smiles ironically, hiding the heartbreak inside.
the one thing i want most in this life, finally comes to me when i can no longer accept it. int. drawing room.  caroline's house.  outside london - day. ethne stares out of the drawing room window, waiting. her friend caroline sits at a table, pretending to be absorbed in her book, listening just as intently. there's the jingle of a carriage outside.
drive around once. describe the entrance to me.  int. drawing room.  caroline's house - day. ethne turns away from the window.
it's perfectly true. i can't see a thing. ethne stops, feeling guilty.
you moved from the window, that's how i knew.
no, but the window was open. the noise outside grew louder. she tries to answer his smile.
yes, we have a lot to talk about. ethne's hand trembles as she pours the tea. durrance interprets every sound. she picks up the cup and walks over with a smile, holding it out for him.
i hate to sound humble, but i don't trust myself with a cup of tea yet. ethne feels stupid again. she sets the cup down on a table.
you're not bound, you know. there's a pause. ethne knows exactly what he means.
i wouldn't dream of holding you to your letter. or a committment you made to a different man. ethne stares at him in surprise, and then in quiet admiration.
i don't say it begrudgingly. i'm not being particularly noble or heroic either. it's something i've thought about long and hard --
-- please hear me out.  i'm thinking of myself as much as you. i have to learn to accept what's happened. i have to learn to respect the person i've become. the only way to do that is to start again.
because if i was with you, i'd spend every moment wondering how you really felt about me.
it has to be more than mere obligation ethne, or even friendship. it has to be more than that.  ethne suddenly reaches out and touches his face. durrance stops as he feels her fingers. he's lost for a moment, unsure of himself. ethne leans forward and kisses him, tenderly at first, but then more and more passionately, proving herself to him, proving herself to herself. durrance kisses her back, close to tears. ext. patio.  caroline's house - day. a sharp clatter of hooves. durrance rides his horse with the help of a groom, his face fixed in concentration. ethne and caroline watch him from the patio.
you smell wonderful.
ethne? ethne keeps quiet.
ethne? she watches durrance, wracked with guilt. willoughby i've got to say something.
what were you playing?
cheerful stuff. he grins and starts to play the tune, perfectly. ethne looks on in admiration, trying to hide her feelings.
join me.
please.  reluctantly ethne starts to accompany him.
they say you can tell a woman's heart by the way she plays.
it isn't how well you play, it's how passionately you stroke the keys. ethne presses the keys harder, pretending it's a joke, worried that he might see through her.
i'd say you're in love. even though it's said in jest, his words stick like a knife. the notes torture her. she suddenly gets up and walk away from the piano.
where are you going?
there you go, i'm in love too.  he swivels around and beams at her joyfully. ethne stares back at him, unable to speak.
these past few days have been the best days of my life, blind or otherwise.  his eyes shine in the candlelight, full of new-found hope.
before i came here i'd given up. i put on all kinds of fronts and defences, but deep down i was petrified. i had no idea what was going on around me, what people were thinking behind my back. i imagined the worst, so that nothing would surprise me, no-one would catch me out.  he walks closer.
you've made me realise i can't live like that. whether one can see or not, there's no way of knowing how people really feel about you, all you can do is put yourself in their hands, and trust them unconditionally.  ethne can't speak.
i know how much you loved harry.  . for the first time i'm not afraid to admit it, i'm not not afraid to bring it up between us.  i'm not afraid, because of you ethne, because of the way you've made me feel.  he waits for an answer but all that greets him is silence. as he steps closer he suddenly loses her presence. a touch of panic enters his voice:
ethne? the only sound he hears is the wind on the curtains. we see for the first time that ethne's left, through the open patio doors.
ethne? he turns around sharply as he hears a noise. caroline stands in the doorway. durrance walks towards her.
i thought you'd disappeared.
i'm sorry.
she was here a minute ago. it must have been something i said.
willoughby?.  he looks perplexed.
willoughby was here? why didn't he come and see me?
he must have had his reasons.
harry.  caroline watches his unseeing eyes trying to make sense of what's happened. she feels a touch of remorse as she sees him struggling with his emotions. finally he looks up:
ethne obviously didn't want me to know.  why did you tell me? caroline hesitates.
you're her friend.
you're not fair to ethne.
how much of our conversation did you overhear?
then you should know i meant every word. i love and trust ethne unconditionally. whatever doubts she's feeling, i know she'll resolve them. i've put myself in her hands. a long silence. durrance doesn't need to see caroline to know she's in tears.
i'm sorry, mrs adair. ext. garden.  caroline's house - night. ethne sits in the garden alone, shivering in the wind, hating herself. ext. the city of dongola.  southern sudan - night. the peeling corpse of a british soldier is dragged through the streets by a rope tied to a camel's back. local women tear at the dead man's uniform, grabbing at his testicles, spitting on his bloated face. harry slips out of the crowd, horrified by what he's seen, relieved it isn't trench. ext. dongola.  sudan - day. the jeering women can be heard in the distance. abou fatma sits in the shade, slurping an oily gruel. harry squats beside him. abou fatma offers him the bowl. harry declines.
come in. harry enters. he stops as he sees his friend. durrance's face has softened from inactivity. his skin seems pale compared to harry's coarse, sunburnt features.
it's good to see you, harry. harry how did you know?
a calculated guess. scotch alright? harry perfect.
i've got to cut down on the stuff. i'm putting on weight. harry you look good.
not as good as you, i'm sure. harry watches his friend, taking the carafe, pouring two perfect glasses. everything durrance does, is designed to show him he's alright, that there's nothing to pity.
i heard ethne's carriage outside? harry she's giving me a ride to the station.
why didn't she come up? harry i think she wanted to give us a few minutes alone.
do we need a few minutes alone? even though he's smiling, the air is thick with tension. harry i came to thank you, jack.
for what? harry for standing by me.
if you're talking about the feathers, i wasn't there. harry willoughby told me you were. he said you'd tried to talk them out of it. durrance hesitates.
you don't owe me anything harry. the wedding isn't for another month. ethne's free to make up her own mind. harry you don't owe me anything either, jack. and she's made up her mind. you should trust her judgement. a long silence. durrance is too proud to respond. harry stares at his friend, regretting the wall between them. harry i'd better go. i'll miss my train. i'll come and see you soon. he finishes his drink and gets up.
have another one. harry i can't jack.
please. his voice is softer now, more conciliatory.
the friendship was the best thing about that place. it's the one thing i haven't been able to hang onto. it's his way of asking harry to stay. harry sits again.
i've become like one of those old soldiers we used to laugh at. forcing my stories on everyone. enough medals on my uniform to light up a christmas tree. have they given you back your commission? harry they haven't acknowledged me in any way.
i suppose it wouldn't be the british army if they admitted their mistakes. harry i don't know if it was a mistake. i was never a real soldier like you.
a real soldier doesn't come back in a hospital ship. to castelton and all the others we left behind. harry watches his friend down his whisky, sensing the guilt and pain inside. harry you did everything you could.
you saw it happen? harry from a distance. i remember the entire british square retreating in perfect order, and then these two lunatics, charging out to save their friend. i remember thinking there wasn't a bullet in the world that could stop you that day.
except my own. harry you obviously weren't meant to die. you certainly tried your best. durrance chuckles, close to tears, holding them back.
it's hard to talk like this with anyone else. they all want to know how many people you've killed, but the moment you mention the friends you've lost, their eyes glaze over. harry they weren't there.
no. do you ever miss the desert harry? harry i'm glad i'm home.
it was the best time of my life. whenever anyone had a problem they came to me. i never felt so needed. __ maybe we should change places. harry isn't sure what he means. durrance tops up their glasses.
you remember the first time we led a cavalry charge in public? harry you wiped the floor with me. most of my horses ended up in the bandstand.
ethne was watching. harry that's right.
we'd met her the previous night, at the regimental ball. harry i remember.
you should. you were the only one she danced with. harry smiles but doesn't say anything.
i've never been so jealous. i stayed up all night brooding. the next day i was determined to show you up -- prove to her i was the better soldier. harry you were always the better soldier.
and it still didn't make a difference. she was the first person i looked for in the crowd, and she was staring at you. everyone else was applauding me, and she was staring at you. i'm not sure if anything's changed. harry can't speak. he knows what durrance is saying.
to us harry. he leans over, grinning, and touches harry's glass.
to you. ext. churchyard.  glenalla - day. church bells chime, drowned out by the excited guests. the wedding party has gathered outside the chapel, waiting for the bride. there's a flurry of activity as ethne's carriage finally draws up. friends and family run over to greet her. harry's party stays behind at the church door, preparing him for her imminent arrival. general feversham and colonel sutch make last minute adjustments to harry's suit and tie. willoughby reminds trench to make sure he's still got the ring. ethne finally emerges from the carriage, looking radiant in a white dress. harry tries to catch a glimpse of her, but trench covers his eyes, as if it's still bad luck to see his bride. ethne laughs as she walks past them into the church, accompanied by her father. trench waits until she's safely inside, before he removes his hands from harry's eyes. harry looks around, hoping to see durrance amongst the crowd. his friend is nowhere to be seen. harry smiles at the other guests, but he seems distracted, as if he knows in his heart durrance won't show. slowly the crowd outside thins until only harry, trench, and willoughby remain. trench ready? harry has one last look for durrance, still hoping against hope, then he nods and follows his friends inside. the noise of the choir fades as the doors close behind them. for a moment we're left in the balmly stillness of the churchyard, and then, in it's place, we hear the unmistakeable whisper of the desert wind.