This screenplay is intended for performance in a theatre.

A narrow single bed is positioned stage right, next to a small plain bedside table bearing some letters and a fountain pen.  The bed is made up with starched white linen and khaki blankets.  REG, a handsome young man wearing an Australian World War I army uniform, lies on the bed.  He is currently sitting up so we can see his face.  One of his knees is prominently bandaged and blood-stained. 

An ornate antique writing desk is positioned stage left, also bearing letters and a fountain pen.  MYRTLE, a pretty young woman wearing a flowing white dress, sits at the desk. 

These characters are in different worlds, connected only by their letters across time, space and events beyond their control.   Therefore, each actor occupies their own side of the stage and they do not interact.

INT. CONVALESCENT HOSPITAL WARD, CLACTON-ON-SEA, ENGLAND

The song "Keep the Home Fires Burning" plays as lights slowly fade up on REG

REG

Reading letter

Reckitt’s Convalescent Hospital, Clacton-on-Sea, England

June 17, 1918

My darling Myrtle,

Don’t be too alarmed by my new address.  I just caught a piece of shrapnel in my knee.  I’m hobbling around on crutches, but I’m hoping to progress to a cane very soon.  Picture me twirling it round like Charlie Chaplin!   

There’s good food here (certainly better than bully beef) and the nurses are kind, although none can hold a candle to you.  I’m clean, dry and warm, far from the trenches, and we spend plenty of time relaxing in the gardens.  This wound is a blessing in disguise.

I do miss you, my dear girl.  If only you could be here with me in good old Blighty.  We could visit the music halls in London and have a good laugh and a singalong.  What fun!

Lights fade out on REG

INT. MYRTLE’S DRAWING ROOM, CAMBERWELL, MELBOURNE

Lights fade up on MYRTLE

MYRTLE

Reading letter

29 Riversdale Road, Camberwell

August 30, 1918

Dearest Reg,

I don’t know whether I was more shocked or relieved to hear you’ve been wounded.  I was upset, naturally, but knowing you’re safely ensconced in hospital brings me some peace of mind.  I keep busy during the day, helping Mother with the little ones, but I’m all alone with my thoughts at night-time.  I think of you waving goodbye as your ship sailed away from Station Pier and I pray I will see your smile again very soon.   

I do feel better knowing you are safe.  The trenches don’t loom quite so large in my nightmares.  I see greater promise in the future than I dared before.

Lights fade out on MYRTLE

INT. CONVALESCENT HOSPITAL WARD, CLACTON-ON-SEA, ENGLAND

Lights fade up on REG

REG

Reading letter

October 15, 1918

My darling girl,

A quick note to tell you my leg is improving.  I manage now with a cane, and I can walk a little further each day.  As the English winter sets in, the bitter cold keeps us indoors now.  I read by the fire and play cards with the boys.  We talk a lot about our lives back home.

A few of them have recently contracted a strange illness.  It’s like the common cold, but their breathing is laboured and they have terribly high temperatures.  It’s alarming.

Here is the main reason for this note.  I have great news – I’m homeward bound!  My wound means I won’t return to active duty.  I’m waiting for the doctors to tell me when I can depart.  Sweetheart, I can’t wait to see you again and hold you close.

Lights fade out on REG

INT. MYRTLE’S DRAWING ROOM, CAMBERWELL, MELBOURNE

Lights fade up on MYRTLE

MYRTLE

Reading letter

November 11, 1918

My darling, we’re overjoyed to hear the news of the Armistice!  Four long years of misery and suffering are over.  I’ve never seen such unbridled joy.  The whole community of Melbourne is celebrating.  Even the staid matriarchs of Camberwell are dancing in the streets!   

So excited to receive your news that you’re coming home!  Now the fighting is over, I grow so impatient to be reunited with you.  We can start to plan for our future.

Lights fade out on MYRTLE

INT. CONVALESCENT HOSPITAL WARD, CLACTON-ON-SEA, ENGLAND

Lights fade up on REG

REG

Reading letter

November 11, 1918

My love, no doubt the news has reached you that hostilities have ceased.  There is such relief and excitement among the boys.  It’s all over! 

You’ll never know how the memory of you has sustained me through the war.  I think of you every hour.  My favourite daydream is when I kneel before you and take your hand in mine.  Kneeling might prove harder for me now, with my bad leg, but it won’t stop me from asking you a very important question …

Lights fade out on REG

INT. MYRTLE’S DRAWING ROOM, CAMBERWELL, MELBOURNE

Lights fade up on MYRTLE

MYRTLE

Reading letter

January 29, 1919

Darling Reg,

Many weeks have now passed since the Armistice, and we still wait for news of your return.  This cursed war has cost us so much time together already.  Were it not for this, we might already be married and welcoming the first of many little ones.

While the war has ended, one dark cloud tempers our joy here in Melbourne.  As the soldiers filter back into the community, a malevolent unseen traveller accompanies them.  In a previous letter, you described an illness affecting your fellow soldiers.  It sounds like the same one spreading rapidly here.  Many are falling prey to this virus, and some take a savage turn for the worse just as they are beginning to recover.  The death toll is highest in the slums where people live cheek-by-jowl in unsanitary conditions.  It’s dangerous, deadly and cruel.

Forgive me.  I should dwell on happier subjects.  Please write the instant that you receive news about your departure.  I am so desperate to be re-united with you.   

Lights fade out on MYRTLE

INT. CONVALESCENT HOSPITAL WARD, CLACTON-ON-SEA, ENGLAND

Lights fade up on REG

REG

He reclines on one elbow and looks terribly unwell

Reading letter

February 1, 1919

Dearest Myrtle,

My handwriting looks different today.  That is because Sister Chamberlain, one of our nurses, is writing this for me.  You mustn’t worry, my darling, but I have to tell you that I’ve been unwell.  This Spanish Influenza has struck us with a vengeance.  It’s very contagious, and no matter what precautions are taken, it spreads like wildfire.  Most of the boys have been ill and two have been severely affected.  George is slowly recovering now, but Archie will never see his beloved Australia or his family again.   

I was very weak and listless last week with a high fever, but that’s passed.  My appetite is returning and I’m regaining some strength.  I’m on the mend, sweetheart, so please don’t fret.     

Lights fade out on REG

INT. MYRTLE’S DRAWING ROOM, CAMBERWELL, MELBOURNE

Lights fade up on MYRTLE

MYRTLE

Reading letters

March 15, 1919

My darling Reg,

Thank God you’re returning to health.  The Argus reports that up to 40% of Melburnians are affected by this terrible virus.  You would think the young, fit and strong would be the safest among us, but people our age are dying more frequently than the elderly or infirm.  It makes no sense.  It’s a shocking thing.

Cool lights fade up dimly on REG, just enough for us to see his head fall back onto the pillow; his last letter drops from his outstretched hand 

April 1, 1919

Really, Reg, it is too bad of you not to write more frequently.  How in Heaven’s name can the Army be so slow to organise your voyage home?  It is hard lines to remain so far apart so long after the guns have fallen silent.   

My love, I have some terrible news.  Elsie and Charles have been taken by the Spanish Flu.  They lost their respective battles in the same week.  They succumbed so suddenly that their families had no chance to nurse them.  I saw Elsie’s poor mother at church.  Her eyes were so bewildered.  She looked right through me, as though I were smoke rather than flesh.     

Do you remember our lovely Sunday picnics in Studley Park with all our friends?  It seems so long ago, like a half-forgotten dream from a distant childhood.

Reg, with such sadness unfolding around us, I need you here with me.  I can’t bear your absence any longer.

Lights on MYRTLE transition gradually from warm to cool during the final letter

April 15, 1919

Darling, I’ve not heard from you for so long.  It’s so unlike you.  I know the mail is unpredictable, but I yearn so desperately for news.  Have you already boarded your ship?  Are you sailing home as I write this? 

More people fall victim to the virus.  Three more friends from school died in the past fortnight.  I fear reading the newspapers, just as I did during the war.  Both our families have been spared thus far, but who knows what the future could bring?  Fear lurks around the margins.  At night I lie awake dreading some prospective loss. 

How strange it would be if you survived the trenches, only to discover that the real frontline was right here in Melbourne all along.

"Adagio for Strings" plays as lights slowly fade out on MYRTLE and REG