A DECISION PURE AND SIMPLE

(a 50 minute drama)

© Claire Booker

bookerplays@yahoo.co.uk

www.bookerplays.co.uk

" A man who is good for anything ought not to calculate

the chance of living or dying; he ought only to consider

whether he is doing right or wrong." Socrates

CHARACTERS

Private Otto Schutz	A young Austrian, newly conscripted to the German army.

Private Max Schwannbeck	A young soldier a few years older than Otto.

Standartenführer Winkler	A middle aged S.S. officer.

Sergeant Bielek	A hardened platoon leader (20-40s).

Fräulein Inge Gluck	The Colonel's secretary (30s)

Nadia	A Russian woman partisan (20-40s)

SET

The action largely takes place in the Colonel's office and Otto's cell. An area of stage may be left bare for outdoor action.

Scene One

A winter's day, March 1943. Sergeant Bielek, in full combat gear, paces up and down trying to keep warm. Private Schwannbeck, machine gun in hand, rushes towards Bielek, stops and salutes.

Bielek	Well?

Max	We've rounded them up, sir.

Bielek	What took you so long, for Christ's sake?

Max	Some of the women tried to hide their children, sir.

Bielek	Crafty bitches.

Max	(breathing heavily) We had to . . . we had to . . . shoot them, sir.

Bielek	How many?

Max	We just shot, sir. I didn't look.

Bielek	How can you shoot people if you don't look, Schwannbeck?

Max	They just came at me. They rushed us. I emptied my magazine into them. (close to

hysteria) I . . . I . . .

Bielek	Pull yourself together, Schwannbeck. You're a soldier, not a flaming choir boy.

Max	I just kept firing, sir.

Bielek	What a waste of ammo. One Russian, one bullet. Remember that. They don't deserve more. (starts counting heads) Is that the lot then? (surveys the scene for a while longer, then stops front stage and addresses the audience)

O.k. you scum. You've got it coming to you. Are you listening? (pause) Some bastard tied cheese wire across the Bryansk-Zukovka road last night. (to audience) Keep those bloody kids quiet! Tied it at neck level. Sliced one of our despatch rider's head clean off his shoulders. (shouts) It was down your road, so I'm holding you responsible. (stands to attention and recites) Directive number 384. The death penalty for fifty to one hundred communists should generally be regarded as suitable atonement for one German soldier's life. (resumes normal tone) However. Today is your lucky day. My orders is to settle for seven. (holds up sheet of paper) Here’s the list. You know who you are, so let's be having you. (no response) No? No volunteers? (shouts) Kaltenberg! Kleist! Schwannbeck! (two soldiers come running onto the stage) (to the audience) I’m giving you a last chance, for Christ’s sake. (pause as he surveys the audience) Ivan bloody cretins . . . stick together like cackie to a blanket. (to the soldiers) Squad formation! (the two soldiers aim their sub-machine guns at the audience. Women and children are heard to scream)

Max	But the children, sir?

Bielek	I said squad formation! (Max reluctantly takes aim) Take aim. Fire!

(A rattle of machine gun fire, a flash of light, screams. Black Out.)

Scene Two

The sound of a mouth accordion playing 'Deutschland Uber Alles' fades up in the darkness. The lights rise on Sergeant Bielek and Max Schwannbeck who are on guard duty outside battalion headquarters. It is early afternoon. Nadia walks on carrying a heavy load of washing in a basket.

Bielek	(stops playing the mouth organ. He sniffs the air appreciatively) Mmm, the sweet perfume of a female animal. (notices Max is still rigidly on guard) Oh, for crying out loud, Schwannbeck. Stand at ease, won't you. You're making me nervous. (Nadia starts to hang the washing on a make-shift line)

Max	But in the event of a sudden attack, sir . . .

Bielek	Ivan doesn't like daylight; you know that as well as I do. (lights up a cigarette)

Max	What about the ambush yesterday? That happened in full daylight. (Bielek snorts with derision. After a silence Max speaks) I could do with a fag.

Bielek	Piss off.

Max	I didn't ask for one.

Bielek	You've got a nerve.

Max	I didn't ask.

Bielek	And now he's going to sulk. (turns his attention to Nadia) Got a good rump on her,

that one. Knocks spots off 'two fag' Annie.

Max	Who?

Bielek	Don’t give me ‘who?’ Used to be 'four fag' Annie 'til she got the clap. (Max shakes his head) No? Guarding our precious health, are we? Keeping our dick clean for some bird back home? (Bielek moves across to Nadia) Hello my lovely. And who might you be? (slowly) What is your name? (eventually in Russian) Kak tibia zavout?

Nadia	Nadia Petrovna Terishkova.

Bielek	Nadia. (encircles her from behind) Nadia.

Nadia	Shto?

Bielek	(mimics) Shto.

Nadia	(trying to wriggle away) Prostitia, poshalsta . . .

Bielek	(laughingly to Max) First encircle the enemy then ram home your advantage. (makes an obscene gesture with his hips. Nadia desperately tries to escape) Look, look. She's egging me on, the hot little bitch.

Max	Sexual relations are forbidden with enemy women, sir. Manual X-12, Deportment in Occupied Territories.

Bielek	Don't try and teach your granny to suck eggs, Schwannbeck.

Otto	(walks up to Bielek, stops and salutes) Private Schutz, sir, reporting for duty.

Bielek	What the . . . can’t you see, I'm busy? (Otto continues to stand to attention) Jesus! How many puritans are there in this battalion? (lets go of Nadia, who makes good her escape) Dosvidania, my lovely. (noticing Otto's black eye) Been in a fight, Schutz?

Otto	No sir.

Bielek	(mimics) No sir. (pause) Tripped over your willy, did you?

Otto	No sir.

Bielek	Don't tell me you like your women to play rough.

Otto	No sir.

Bielek	Stop saying 'no sir'.

Otto	Yes sir.

Bielek	Are you taking the piss?

Otto	Captain Mulhaus lost his temper, sir.

Bielek	Did he now? Might one enquire why?

Otto	(deeply shamed) For unsoldierly behaviour.

Bielek	(assuming sexual indiscretion) You?

Otto	An old woman in Seredina, sir.

Bielek	An old woman? Are you some kind of perv?

Otto	I helped her get onto her feet, sir, that's all. She was terrified. I couldn't just walk past.

Bielek	You couldn't, could you?

Otto	No, sir.

Bielek	(sighs) Let me tell you a story, Schutz. About a little old biddy just like yours. A

real sweetheart. She used to sing us the Horst Wessel song, just to make us feel at home. Personally that song makes me want to puke, but what the hell, we were a long way from Blighty. What we didn't know was that we'd just hanged two of her sons. Guess how many officers she managed to kill before we rumbled her? Seven. With that long silver hat pin of hers. Woosh, straight through the ear and into the brain. (pause) Don't go helping little old ladies cross the road, Schutz. We're not in the boy scouts now.

(Black out)

CONTINUED

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Claire Booker at

bookerplays@yahoo.co.uk or www.bookerplays.co.uk