File size: 180,753 Bytes
d37f4ef
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
32
33
34
35
36
37
38
39
40
41
42
43
44
45
46
47
48
49
50
51
52
53
54
55
56
57
58
59
60
61
62
63
64
65
66
67
68
69
70
71
72
73
74
75
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100
101
102
103
104
105
106
107
108
109
110
111
112
113
114
115
116
117
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142
143
144
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169
170
171
172
173
174
175
176
177
178
179
180
181
182
183
184
185
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
195
196
197
198
199
200
201
202
203
204
205
206
207
208
209
210
211
212
213
214
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239
240
241
242
243
244
245
246
247
248
249
250
251
252
253
254
255
256
257
258
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333
334
335
336
337
338
339
340
341
342
343
344
345
346
347
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375
376
377
378
379
380
381
382
383
384
385
386
387
388
389
390
391
392
393
394
395
396
397
398
399
400
401
402
403
404
405
406
407
408
409
410
411
412
413
414
415
416
417
418
419
420
421
422
423
424
425
426
427
428
429
430
431
432
433
434
435
436
437
438
439
440
441
442
443
444
445
446
447
448
449
450
451
452
453
454
455
456
457
458
459
460
461
462
463
464
465
466
467
468
469
470
471
472
473
474
475
476
477
478
479
480
481
482
483
484
485
486
487
488
489
490
491
492
493
494
495
496
497
498
499
500
501
502
503
504
505
506
507
508
509
510
511
512
513
514
515
516
517
518
519
520
521
522
523
524
525
526
527
528
529
530
531
532
533
534
535
536
537
538
539
540
541
542
543
544
545
546
547
548
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593
594
595
596
597
598
599
600
601
602
603
604
605
606
607
608
609
610
611
612
613
614
615
616
617
618
619
620
621
622
623
624
625
626
627
628
629
630
631
632
633
634
635
636
637
638
639
640
641
642
643
644
645
646
647
648
649
650
651
652
653
654
655
656
657
658
659
660
661
662
663
664
665
666
667
668
669
670
671
672
673
674
675
676
677
678
679
680
681
682
683
684
685
686
687
688
689
690
691
692
693
694
695
696
697
698
699
700
701
702
703
704
705
706
707
708
709
710
711
712
713
714
715
716
717
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742
743
744
745
746
747
748
749
750
751
752
753
754
755
756
757
758
759
760
761
762
763
764
765
766
767
768
769
770
771
772
773
774
775
776
777
778
779
780
781
782
783
784
785
786
787
788
789
790
791
792
793
794
795
796
797
798
799
800
801
802
803
804
805
806
807
808
809
810
811
812
813
814
815
816
817
818
819
820
821
822
823
824
825
826
827
828
829
830
831
832
833
834
835
836
837
838
839
840
841
842
843
844
845
846
847
848
849
850
851
852
853
854
855
856
857
858
859
860
861
862
863
864
865
866
867
868
869
870
871
872
873
874
875
876
877
878
879
880
881
882
883
884
885
886
887
888
889
890
891
892
893
894
895
896
897
898
899
900
901
902
903
904
905
906
907
908
909
910
911
912
913
914
915
916
917
918
919
920
921
922
923
924
925
926
927
928
929
930
931
932
933
934
935
936
937
938
939
940
941
942
943
944
945
946
947
948
949
950
951
952
953
954
955
956
957
958
959
960
961
962
963
964
965
966
967
968
969
970
971
972
973
974
975
976
977
978
979
980
981
982
983
984
985
986
987
988
989
990
991
992
993
994
995
996
997
998
999
1000
1001
1002
1003
1004
1005
1006
1007
1008
1009
1010
1011
1012
1013
1014
1015
1016
1017
1018
1019
1020
1021
1022
1023
1024
1025
1026
1027
1028
1029
1030
1031
1032
1033
1034
1035
1036
1037
1038
1039
1040
1041
1042
1043
1044
1045
1046
1047
1048
1049
1050
1051
1052
1053
1054
1055
1056
1057
1058
1059
1060
1061
1062
1063
1064
1065
1066
1067
1068
1069
1070
1071
1072
1073
1074
1075
1076
1077
1078
1079
1080
1081
1082
1083
1084
1085
1086
1087
1088
1089
1090
1091
1092
1093
1094
1095
1096
1097
1098
1099
1100
1101
1102
1103
1104
1105
1106
1107
1108
1109
1110
1111
1112
1113
1114
1115
1116
1117
1118
1119
1120
1121
1122
1123
1124
1125
1126
1127
1128
1129
1130
1131
1132
1133
1134
1135
1136
1137
1138
1139
1140
1141
1142
1143
1144
1145
1146
1147
1148
1149
1150
1151
1152
1153
1154
1155
1156
1157
1158
1159
1160
1161
1162
1163
1164
1165
1166
1167
1168
1169
1170
1171
1172
1173
1174
1175
1176
1177
1178
1179
1180
1181
1182
1183
1184
1185
1186
1187
1188
1189
1190
1191
1192
1193
1194
1195
1196
1197
1198
1199
1200
1201
1202
1203
1204
1205
1206
1207
1208
1209
1210
1211
1212
1213
1214
1215
1216
1217
1218
1219
1220
1221
1222
1223
1224
1225
1226
1227
1228
1229
1230
1231
1232
1233
1234
1235
1236
1237
1238
1239
1240
1241
1242
1243
1244
1245
1246
1247
1248
1249
1250
1251
1252
1253
1254
1255
1256
1257
1258
1259
1260
1261
1262
1263
1264
1265
1266
1267
1268
1269
1270
1271
1272
1273
1274
1275
1276
1277
1278
1279
1280
1281
1282
1283
1284
1285
1286
1287
1288
1289
1290
1291
1292
1293
1294
1295
1296
1297
1298
1299
1300
1301
1302
1303
1304
1305
1306
1307
1308
1309
1310
1311
1312
1313
1314
1315
1316
1317
1318
1319
1320
1321
1322
1323
1324
1325
1326
1327
1328
1329
1330
1331
1332
1333
1334
1335
1336
1337
1338
1339
1340
1341
1342
1343
1344
1345
1346
1347
1348
1349
1350
1351
1352
1353
1354
1355
1356
1357
1358
1359
1360
1361
1362
1363
1364
1365
1366
1367
1368
1369
1370
1371
1372
1373
1374
1375
1376
1377
1378
1379
1380
1381
1382
1383
1384
1385
1386
1387
1388
1389
1390
1391
1392
1393
1394
1395
1396
1397
1398
1399
1400
1401
1402
1403
1404
1405
1406
1407
1408
1409
1410
1411
1412
1413
1414
1415
1416
1417
1418
1419
1420
1421
1422
1423
1424
1425
1426
1427
1428
1429
1430
1431
1432
1433
1434
1435
1436
1437
1438
1439
1440
1441
1442
1443
1444
1445
1446
1447
1448
1449
1450
1451
1452
1453
1454
1455
1456
1457
1458
1459
1460
1461
1462
1463
1464
1465
1466
1467
1468
1469
1470
1471
1472
1473
1474
1475
1476
1477
1478
1479
1480
1481
1482
1483
1484
1485
1486
1487
1488
1489
1490
1491
1492
1493
1494
1495
1496
1497
1498
1499
1500
1501
1502
1503
1504
1505
1506
1507
1508
1509
1510
1511
1512
1513
1514
1515
1516
1517
1518
1519
1520
1521
1522
1523
1524
1525
1526
1527
1528
1529
1530
1531
1532
1533
1534
1535
1536
1537
1538
1539
1540
1541
1542
1543
1544
1545
1546
1547
1548
1549
1550
1551
1552
1553
1554
1555
1556
1557
1558
1559
1560
1561
1562
1563
1564
1565
1566
1567
1568
1569
1570
1571
1572
1573
1574
1575
1576
1577
1578
1579
1580
1581
1582
1583
1584
1585
1586
1587
1588
1589
1590
1591
1592
1593
1594
1595
1596
1597
1598
1599
1600
1601
1602
1603
1604
1605
1606
1607
1608
1609
1610
1611
1612
1613
1614
1615
1616
1617
1618
1619
1620
1621
1622
1623
1624
1625
1626
1627
1628
1629
1630
1631
1632
1633
1634
1635
1636
1637
1638
1639
1640
1641
1642
1643
1644
1645
1646
1647
1648
1649
1650
1651
1652
1653
1654
1655
1656
1657
1658
1659
1660
1661
1662
1663
1664
1665
1666
1667
1668
1669
1670
1671
1672
1673
1674
1675
1676
1677
1678
1679
1680
1681
1682
1683
1684
1685
1686
1687
1688
1689
1690
1691
1692
1693
1694
1695
1696
1697
1698
1699
1700
1701
1702
1703
1704
1705
1706
1707
1708
1709
1710
1711
1712
1713
1714
1715
1716
1717
1718
1719
1720
1721
1722
1723
1724
1725
1726
1727
1728
1729
1730
1731
1732
1733
1734
1735
1736
1737
1738
1739
1740
1741
1742
1743
1744
1745
1746
1747
1748
1749
1750
1751
1752
1753
1754
1755
1756
1757
1758
1759
1760
1761
1762
1763
1764
1765
1766
1767
1768
1769
1770
1771
1772
1773
1774
1775
1776
1777
1778
1779
1780
1781
1782
1783
1784
1785
1786
1787
1788
1789
1790
1791
1792
1793
1794
1795
1796
1797
1798
1799
1800
1801
1802
1803
1804
1805
1806
1807
1808
1809
1810
1811
1812
1813
1814
1815
1816
1817
1818
1819
1820
1821
1822
1823
1824
1825
1826
1827
1828
1829
1830
1831
1832
1833
1834
1835
1836
1837
1838
1839
1840
1841
1842
1843
1844
1845
1846
1847
1848
1849
1850
1851
1852
1853
1854
1855
1856
1857
1858
1859
1860
1861
1862
1863
1864
1865
1866
1867
1868
1869
1870
1871
1872
1873
1874
1875
1876
1877
1878
1879
1880
1881
1882
1883
1884
1885
1886
1887
1888
1889
1890
1891
1892
1893
1894
1895
1896
1897
1898
1899
1900
1901
1902
1903
1904
1905
1906
1907
1908
1909
1910
1911
1912
1913
1914
1915
1916
1917
1918
1919
1920
1921
1922
1923
1924
1925
1926
1927
1928
1929
1930
1931
1932
1933
1934
1935
1936
1937
1938
1939
1940
1941
1942
1943
1944
1945
1946
1947
1948
1949
1950
1951
1952
1953
1954
1955
1956
1957
1958
1959
1960
1961
1962
1963
1964
1965
1966
1967
1968
1969
1970
1971
1972
1973
1974
1975
1976
1977
1978
1979
1980
1981
1982
1983
1984
1985
1986
1987
1988
1989
1990
1991
1992
1993
1994
1995
1996
1997
1998
1999
2000
2001
2002
2003
2004
2005
2006
2007
2008
2009
2010
2011
2012
2013
2014
2015
2016
2017
2018
2019
2020
2021
2022
2023
2024
2025
2026
2027
2028
2029
2030
2031
2032
2033
2034
2035
2036
2037
2038
2039
2040
2041
2042
2043
2044
2045
2046
2047
2048
2049
2050
2051
2052
2053
2054
2055
2056
2057
2058
2059
2060
2061
2062
2063
2064
2065
2066
2067
2068
2069
2070
2071
2072
2073
2074
2075
2076
2077
2078
2079
2080
2081
2082
2083
2084
2085
2086
2087
2088
2089
2090
2091
2092
2093
2094
2095
2096
2097
2098
2099
2100
2101
2102
2103
2104
2105
2106
2107
2108
2109
2110
2111
2112
2113
2114
2115
2116
2117
2118
2119
2120
2121
2122
2123
2124
2125
2126
2127
2128
2129
2130
2131
2132
2133
2134
2135
2136
2137
2138
2139
2140
2141
2142
2143
2144
2145
2146
2147
2148
2149
2150
2151
2152
2153
2154
2155
2156
2157
2158
2159
2160
2161
2162
2163
2164
2165
2166
2167
2168
2169
2170
2171
2172
2173
2174
2175
2176
2177
2178
2179
2180
2181
2182
2183
2184
2185
2186
2187
2188
2189
2190
2191
2192
2193
2194
2195
2196
2197
2198
2199
2200
2201
2202
2203
2204
2205
2206
2207
2208
2209
2210
2211
2212
2213
2214
2215
2216
2217
2218
2219
2220
2221
2222
2223
2224
2225
2226
2227
2228
2229
2230
2231
2232
2233
2234
2235
2236
2237
2238
2239
2240
2241
2242
2243
2244
2245
2246
2247
2248
2249
2250
2251
2252
2253
2254
2255
2256
2257
2258
2259
2260
2261
2262
2263
2264
2265
2266
2267
2268
2269
2270
2271
2272
2273
2274
2275
2276
2277
2278
2279
2280
2281
2282
2283
2284
2285
2286
2287
2288
2289
2290
2291
2292
2293
2294
2295
2296
2297
2298
2299
2300
2301
2302
2303
2304
2305
2306
2307
2308
2309
2310
2311
2312
2313
2314
2315
2316
2317
2318
2319
2320
2321
2322
2323
2324
2325
2326
2327
2328
2329
2330
2331
2332
2333
2334
2335
2336
2337
2338
2339
2340
2341
2342
2343
2344
2345
2346
2347
2348
2349
2350
2351
2352
2353
2354
2355
2356
2357
2358
2359
2360
2361
2362
2363
2364
2365
2366
2367
2368
2369
2370
2371
2372
2373
2374
2375
2376
2377
2378
2379
2380
2381
2382
2383
2384
2385
2386
2387
2388
2389
2390
2391
2392
2393
2394
2395
2396
2397
2398
2399
2400
2401
2402
2403
2404
2405
2406
2407
2408
2409
2410
2411
2412
2413
2414
2415
2416
2417
2418
2419
2420
2421
2422
2423
2424
2425
2426
2427
2428
2429
2430
2431
2432
2433
2434
2435
2436
2437
2438
2439
2440
2441
2442
2443
2444
2445
2446
2447
2448
2449
2450
2451
2452
2453
2454
2455
2456
2457
2458
2459
2460
2461
2462
2463
2464
2465
2466
2467
2468
2469
2470
2471
2472
2473
2474
2475
2476
2477
2478
2479
2480
2481
2482
2483
2484
2485
2486
2487
2488
2489
2490
2491
2492
2493
2494
2495
2496
2497
2498
2499
2500
2501
2502
2503
2504
2505
2506
2507
2508
2509
2510
2511
2512
2513
2514
2515
2516
2517
2518
2519
2520
2521
2522
2523
2524
2525
2526
2527
2528
2529
2530
2531
2532
2533
2534
2535
2536
2537
2538
2539
2540
2541
2542
2543
2544
2545
2546
2547
2548
2549
2550
2551
2552
2553
2554
2555
2556
2557
2558
2559
2560
2561
2562
2563
2564
2565
2566
2567
2568
2569
2570
2571
2572
2573
2574
2575
2576
2577
2578
2579
2580
2581
2582
2583
2584
2585
2586
2587
2588
2589
2590
2591
2592
2593
2594
2595
2596
2597
2598
2599
2600
2601
2602
2603
2604
2605
2606
2607
2608
2609
2610
2611
2612
2613
2614
2615
2616
2617
2618
2619
2620
2621
2622
2623
2624
2625
2626
2627
2628
2629
2630
2631
2632
2633
2634
2635
2636
2637
2638
2639
2640
2641
2642
2643
2644
2645
2646
2647
2648
2649
2650
2651
2652
2653
2654
2655
2656
2657
2658
2659
2660
2661
2662
2663
2664
2665
2666
2667
2668
2669
2670
2671
2672
2673
2674
2675
2676
2677
2678
2679
2680
2681
2682
2683
2684
2685
2686
2687
2688
2689
2690
2691
2692
2693
2694
2695
2696
2697
2698
2699
2700
2701
2702
2703
2704
2705
2706
2707
2708
2709
2710
2711
2712
2713
2714
2715
2716
2717
2718
2719
2720
2721
2722
2723
2724
2725
2726
2727
2728
2729
2730
2731
2732
2733
2734
2735
2736
2737
2738
2739
2740
2741
2742
2743
2744
2745
2746
2747
2748
2749
2750
2751
2752
2753
2754
2755
2756
2757
2758
2759
2760
2761
2762
2763
2764
2765
2766
2767
2768
2769
2770
2771
2772
2773
2774
2775
2776
2777
2778
2779
2780
2781
2782
2783
2784
2785
2786
2787
2788
2789
2790
2791
2792
2793
2794
2795
2796
2797
2798
2799
2800
2801
2802
2803
2804
2805
2806
2807
2808
2809
2810
2811
2812
2813
2814
2815
2816
2817
2818
2819
2820
2821
2822
2823
2824
2825
2826
2827
2828
2829
2830
2831
2832
2833
2834
2835
2836
2837
2838
2839
2840
2841
2842
2843
2844
2845
2846
2847
2848
2849
2850
2851
2852
2853
2854
2855
2856
2857
2858
2859
2860
2861
2862
2863
2864
2865
2866
2867
2868
2869
2870
2871
2872
2873
2874
2875
2876
2877
2878
2879
2880
2881
2882
2883
2884
2885
2886
2887
2888
2889
2890
2891
2892
2893
2894
2895
2896
2897
2898
2899
2900
2901
2902
2903
2904
2905
2906
2907
2908
2909
2910
2911
2912
2913
2914
2915
2916
2917
2918
2919
2920
2921
2922
2923
2924
2925
2926
2927
2928
2929
2930
2931
2932
2933
2934
2935
2936
2937
2938
2939
2940
2941
2942
2943
2944
2945
2946
2947
2948
2949
2950
2951
2952
2953
2954
2955
2956
2957
2958
2959
2960
2961
2962
2963
2964
2965
2966
2967
2968
2969
2970
2971
2972
2973
2974
2975
2976
2977
2978
2979
2980
2981
2982
2983
2984
2985
2986
2987
2988
2989
2990
2991
2992
2993
2994
2995
2996
2997
2998
2999
3000
3001
3002
3003
3004
3005
3006
3007
3008
3009
3010
3011
3012
3013
3014
3015
3016
3017
3018
3019
3020
3021
3022
3023
3024
3025
3026
3027
3028
3029
3030
3031
3032
3033
3034
3035
3036
3037
3038
3039
3040
3041
3042
3043
3044
3045
3046
3047
3048
3049
3050
3051
3052
3053
3054
3055
3056
3057
3058
3059
3060
3061
3062
3063
3064
3065
3066
3067
3068
3069
3070
3071
3072
3073
3074
3075
3076
3077
3078
3079
3080
3081
3082
3083
3084
3085
3086
3087
3088
3089
3090
3091
3092
3093
3094
3095
3096
3097
3098
3099
3100
3101
3102
3103
3104
3105
3106
3107
3108
3109
3110
3111
3112
3113
3114
3115
3116
3117
3118
3119
3120
3121
3122
3123
3124
3125
3126
3127
3128
3129
3130
3131
3132
3133
3134
3135
3136
3137
3138
3139
3140
3141
3142
3143
3144
3145
3146
3147
3148
3149
3150
3151
3152
3153
3154
3155
3156
3157
3158
3159
3160
3161
3162
3163
3164
3165
3166
3167
3168
3169
3170
3171
3172
3173
3174
3175
3176
3177
3178
3179
3180
3181
3182
3183
3184
3185
3186
3187
3188
3189
3190
3191
3192
3193
3194
3195
3196
3197
3198
3199
3200
3201
3202
3203
3204
3205
3206
3207
3208
3209
3210
3211
3212
3213
3214
3215
3216
3217
3218
3219
3220
3221
3222
3223
3224
3225
3226
3227
3228
3229
3230
3231
3232
3233
3234
3235
3236
3237
3238
3239
3240
3241
3242
3243
3244
3245
3246
3247
3248
3249
3250
3251
3252
3253
3254
3255
3256
3257
3258
3259
3260
3261
3262
3263
3264
3265
3266
3267
3268
3269
3270
3271
3272
3273
3274
3275
3276
3277
3278
3279
3280
3281
3282
3283
3284
3285
3286
3287
3288
3289
3290
3291
3292
3293
3294
3295
3296
3297
3298
3299
3300
3301
3302
3303
3304
3305
3306
3307
3308
3309
3310
3311
3312
3313
3314
3315
3316
3317
3318
3319
3320
3321
3322
3323
3324
3325
3326
3327
3328
3329
3330
3331
3332
3333
3334
3335
3336
3337
3338
3339
3340
3341
3342
3343
3344
3345
3346
3347
3348
3349
3350
3351
3352
3353
3354
3355
3356
3357
3358
3359
3360
3361
3362
3363
3364
3365
3366
3367
3368
3369
3370
3371
3372
3373
3374
3375
3376
3377
3378
3379
3380
3381
3382
3383
3384
3385
3386
3387
3388
3389
3390
3391
3392
3393
3394
3395
3396
3397
3398
3399
3400
3401
3402
3403
3404
3405
3406
3407
3408
3409
3410
3411
3412
3413
3414
3415
3416
3417
3418
3419
3420
3421
3422
3423
3424
3425
3426
3427
3428
3429
3430
3431
3432
3433
3434
3435
3436
3437
3438
3439
3440
3441
3442
3443
3444
3445
3446
3447
3448
3449
3450
3451
3452
3453
3454
3455
3456
3457
3458
3459
3460
3461
3462
3463
3464
3465
3466
3467
3468
3469
3470
3471
3472
3473
3474
3475
3476
3477
3478
3479
3480
3481
3482
3483
3484
3485
3486
3487
3488
3489
3490
3491
3492
3493
3494
3495
3496
3497
3498
3499
3500
3501
3502
3503
3504
3505
3506
3507
3508
3509
3510
3511
3512
3513
3514
3515
3516
3517
3518
3519
3520
3521
3522
3523
3524
3525
3526
3527
3528
3529
3530
3531
3532
3533
3534
3535
3536
3537
3538
3539
3540
3541
3542
3543
3544
3545
3546
3547
3548
3549
3550
3551
3552
3553
3554
3555
3556
3557
3558
3559
3560
3561
3562
3563
3564
3565
3566
3567
3568
3569
3570
3571
3572
3573
3574
3575
3576
3577
3578
3579
3580
3581
3582
3583
3584
3585
3586
3587
3588
3589
3590
3591
3592
3593
3594
3595
3596
3597
3598
3599
3600
3601
3602
3603
3604
3605
3606
3607
3608
3609
3610
3611
3612
3613
3614
3615
3616
3617
3618
3619
3620
3621
3622
3623
3624
3625
3626
3627
3628
3629
3630
3631
3632
3633
3634
3635
3636
3637
3638
3639
3640
3641
3642
3643
3644
3645
3646
3647
3648
3649
3650
3651
3652
3653
3654
3655
3656
3657
3658
3659
3660
3661
3662
3663
3664
3665
3666
3667
3668
3669
3670
3671
3672
3673
3674
3675
3676
3677
3678
3679
3680
3681
3682
3683
3684
3685
3686
3687
3688
3689
3690
3691
3692
3693
3694
3695
3696
3697
3698
3699
3700
3701
3702
3703
3704
3705
3706
3707
3708
3709
3710
3711
3712
3713
3714
3715
3716
3717
3718
3719
3720
3721
3722
3723
3724
3725
3726
3727
3728
3729
3730
3731
3732
3733
3734
3735
3736
3737
3738
3739
3740
3741
3742
3743
3744
3745
3746
3747
3748
3749
3750
3751
3752
3753
3754
3755
3756
3757
3758
3759
3760
3761
3762
3763
3764
3765
3766
3767
3768
3769
3770
3771
3772
3773
3774
3775
3776
3777
3778
3779
3780
3781
3782
3783
3784
3785
3786
3787
3788
3789
3790
3791
3792
3793
3794
3795
3796
3797
3798
3799
3800
3801
3802
3803
3804
3805
3806
3807
3808
3809
3810
3811
3812
3813
3814
3815
3816
3817
3818
3819
3820
3821
3822
3823
3824
3825
3826
3827
3828
3829
3830
3831
3832
3833
3834
3835
3836
3837
3838
3839
3840
3841
3842
3843
3844
3845
3846
3847
3848
3849
3850
3851
3852
3853
3854
3855
3856
3857
3858
3859
3860
3861
3862
3863
3864
3865
3866
3867
3868
3869
3870
3871
3872
3873
3874
3875
3876
3877
3878
3879
3880
3881
3882
3883
3884
3885
3886
3887
3888
3889
3890
3891
3892
3893
3894
3895
3896
3897
3898
3899
3900
3901
3902
3903
3904
3905
3906
3907
3908
3909
3910
3911
3912
3913
3914
3915
3916
3917
3918
3919
3920
3921
3922
3923
3924
3925
3926
3927
3928
3929
3930
3931
3932
3933
3934
3935
3936
3937
3938
3939
3940
3941
3942
3943
3944
3945
3946
3947
3948
3949
3950
3951
3952
3953
3954
3955
3956
3957
3958
3959
3960
3961
3962
3963
3964
3965
3966
3967
3968
3969
3970
3971
3972
3973
3974
3975
3976
3977
3978
3979
3980
3981
3982
3983
3984
3985
3986
3987
3988
3989
3990
3991
3992
3993
3994
3995
3996
3997
3998
3999
4000
4001
4002
4003
4004
4005
4006
4007
4008
4009
4010
4011
4012
4013
4014
4015
4016
4017
4018
4019
4020
4021
4022
4023
4024
4025
4026
4027
4028
4029
4030
4031
4032
4033
4034
4035
4036
4037
4038
4039
4040
4041
4042
4043
4044
4045
4046
4047
4048
4049
4050
4051
4052
4053
4054
4055
4056
4057
4058
4059
4060
4061
4062
4063
4064
4065
4066
4067
4068
4069
4070
4071
4072
4073
4074
4075
4076
4077
4078
4079
4080
4081
4082
4083
4084
4085
4086
4087
4088
4089
4090
4091
4092
4093
4094
4095
4096
4097
4098
4099
4100
4101
4102
4103
4104
4105
4106
4107
4108
4109
4110
4111
4112
4113
4114
4115
4116
4117
4118
4119
4120
4121
4122
4123
4124
4125
4126
4127
4128
4129
4130
4131
4132
4133
4134
4135
4136
4137
4138
4139
4140
4141
4142
4143
4144
4145
4146
4147
4148
4149
4150
4151
4152
4153
4154
4155
4156
4157
4158
4159
4160
4161
4162
4163
4164
4165
4166
4167
4168
4169
4170
4171
4172
4173
4174
4175
4176
4177
4178
4179
4180
4181
4182
4183
4184
4185
4186
4187
4188
4189
4190
4191
4192
4193
4194
4195
4196
4197
4198
4199
4200
4201
4202
4203
4204
4205
4206
4207
4208
4209
4210
4211
4212
4213
4214
4215
4216
4217
4218
4219
4220
4221
4222
4223
4224
4225
4226
4227
4228
4229
4230
4231
4232
4233
4234
4235
4236
4237
4238
4239
4240
4241
4242
4243
4244
4245
4246
4247
4248
4249
4250
4251
4252
4253
4254
4255
4256
4257
4258
4259
4260
4261
4262
4263
4264
4265
4266
4267
4268
4269
4270
4271
4272
4273
4274
4275
4276
4277
4278
4279
4280
4281
4282
4283
4284
4285
4286
4287
4288
4289
4290
4291
4292
4293
4294
4295
4296
4297
4298
4299
4300
4301
4302
4303
4304
4305
4306
4307
4308
4309
4310
4311
4312
4313
4314
4315
4316
4317
4318
4319
4320
4321
4322
4323
4324
4325
4326
4327
4328
4329
4330
4331
4332
4333
4334
4335
4336
4337
4338
4339
4340
4341
4342
4343
4344
4345
4346
4347
4348
4349
4350
4351
4352
4353
4354
4355
4356
4357
4358
4359
4360
4361
4362
4363
4364
4365
4366
4367
4368
4369
4370
4371
4372
4373
4374
4375
4376
4377
4378
4379
4380
4381
4382
4383
4384
4385
4386
4387
4388
4389
4390
4391
4392
4393
4394
4395
4396
4397
4398
4399
4400
4401
4402
4403
4404
4405
4406
4407
4408
4409
4410
4411
4412
4413
4414
4415
4416
4417
4418
4419
4420
4421
4422
4423
4424
4425
4426
4427
4428
4429
4430
4431
4432
4433
4434
4435
4436
4437
4438
4439
4440
4441
4442
4443
4444
4445
4446
4447
4448
4449
4450
4451
4452
4453
4454
4455
4456
4457
4458
4459
4460
4461
4462
4463
4464
4465
4466
4467
4468
4469
4470
4471
4472
4473
4474
4475
4476
4477
4478
4479
4480
4481
4482
4483
4484
4485
4486
4487
4488
4489
4490
4491
4492
4493
4494
4495
4496
4497
4498
4499
4500
4501
4502
4503
4504
4505
4506
4507
4508
4509
4510
4511
4512
4513
4514
4515
4516
4517
4518
4519
4520
4521
4522
4523
4524
4525
4526
4527
4528
4529
4530
4531
4532
4533
4534
4535
4536
4537
4538
4539
4540
4541
4542
4543
4544
4545
4546
4547
4548
4549
4550
4551
4552
4553
4554
4555
4556
4557
4558
4559
4560
4561
4562
4563
4564
4565
4566
4567
4568
4569
4570
4571
4572
4573
4574
4575
4576
4577
4578
4579
4580
4581
4582
4583
4584
4585
4586
4587
4588
4589
4590
4591
4592
4593
4594
4595
4596
4597
4598
4599
4600
4601
4602
4603
4604
4605
4606
4607
4608
4609
4610
4611
4612
4613
4614
4615
4616
4617
4618
4619
4620
4621
4622
4623
4624
4625
4626
4627
4628
4629
4630
4631
4632
4633
4634
4635
4636
4637
4638
4639
4640
4641
4642
4643
4644
4645
4646
4647
4648
4649
4650
4651
4652
4653
4654
4655
4656
4657
4658
4659
4660
4661
4662
4663
4664
4665
4666
4667
4668
4669
4670
4671
4672
4673
4674
4675
4676
4677
4678
4679
4680
4681
4682
4683
4684
4685
4686
4687
4688
4689
4690
4691
4692
4693
4694
4695
4696
4697
4698
4699
4700
4701
4702
4703
4704
4705
4706
4707
4708
4709
4710
4711
4712
4713
4714
4715
4716
4717
4718
4719
4720
4721
4722
4723
4724
4725
4726
4727
4728
4729
4730
4731
4732
4733
4734
4735
4736
4737
4738
4739
4740
4741
4742
4743
4744
4745
4746
4747
4748
4749
4750
4751
4752
4753
4754
4755
4756
4757
4758
4759
4760
4761
4762
4763
4764
4765
4766
4767
4768
4769
4770
4771
4772
4773
4774
4775
4776
4777
4778
4779
4780
4781
4782
4783
4784
4785
4786
4787
4788
4789
4790
4791
4792
4793
4794
4795
4796
4797
4798
4799
4800
4801
4802
4803
4804
4805
4806
4807
4808
4809
4810
4811
4812
4813
4814
4815
4816
4817
4818
4819
4820
4821
4822
4823
4824
4825
4826
4827
4828
4829
4830
4831
4832
4833
4834
4835
4836
4837
4838
4839
4840
4841
4842
4843
4844
4845
4846
4847
4848
4849
4850
4851
4852
4853
4854
4855
4856
4857
4858
4859
4860
4861
4862
4863
4864
4865
4866
4867
4868
4869
4870
4871
4872
4873
4874
4875
4876
4877
4878
4879
4880
4881
4882
4883
4884
4885
4886
4887
4888
4889
4890
4891
4892
4893
4894
4895
4896
4897
4898
4899
4900
4901
4902
4903
4904
4905
4906
4907
4908
4909
4910
4911
4912
4913
4914
4915
4916
4917
4918
4919
4920
4921
4922
4923
4924
4925
4926
4927
4928
4929
4930
4931
4932
4933
4934
4935
4936
4937
4938
4939
4940
4941
4942
4943
4944
4945
4946
4947
4948
4949
4950
4951
4952
4953
4954
4955
4956
4957
4958
4959
4960
4961
4962
4963
4964
4965
4966
4967
4968
4969
4970
4971
4972
4973
4974
4975
4976
4977
4978
4979
4980
4981
4982
4983
4984
4985
4986
4987
4988
4989
4990
4991
4992
4993
4994
4995
4996
4997
4998
4999
5000
5001
5002
5003
5004
5005
5006
5007
5008
5009
5010
5011
5012
5013
5014
5015
5016
5017
5018
5019
5020
5021
5022
5023
5024
5025
5026
5027
5028
5029
5030
5031
5032
5033
5034
5035
5036
5037
5038
5039
5040
5041
5042
5043
5044
5045
5046
5047
5048
5049
5050
5051
5052
5053
5054
5055
5056
5057
5058
5059
5060
5061
5062
5063
5064
5065
5066
5067
5068
5069
5070
5071
5072
5073
5074
5075
5076
5077
5078
5079
5080
5081
5082
5083
5084
5085
5086
5087
5088
5089
5090
5091
5092
5093
5094
5095
5096
5097
5098
5099
5100
5101
5102
5103
5104
5105
5106
5107
5108
5109
5110
5111
5112
5113
5114
5115
5116
5117
5118
5119
5120
5121
5122
5123
5124
5125
5126
5127
5128
5129
5130
5131
5132
5133
5134
5135
5136
5137
5138
5139
5140
5141
5142
5143
5144
5145
5146
5147
5148
5149
5150
5151
5152
5153
5154
5155
5156
5157
5158
5159
5160
5161
5162
5163
5164
5165
5166
5167
5168
5169
5170
5171
5172
5173
5174
5175
5176
5177
5178
5179
5180
5181
5182
5183
5184
5185
5186
5187
5188
5189
5190
5191
5192
5193
5194
5195
5196
5197
5198
5199
5200
5201
5202
5203
5204
5205
5206
5207
5208
5209
5210
5211
5212
5213
5214
5215
5216
5217
5218
5219
5220
5221
5222
5223
5224
5225
5226
5227
5228
5229
5230
5231
5232
5233
5234
5235
5236
5237
5238
5239
5240
5241
5242
5243
5244
5245
5246
5247
5248
5249
5250
5251
5252
5253
5254
5255
5256
5257
5258
5259
5260
5261
5262
5263
5264
5265
5266
5267
5268
5269
5270
5271
5272
5273
5274
5275
5276
5277
5278
5279
5280
5281
5282
5283
5284
5285
5286
5287
5288
5289
5290
5291
5292
5293
5294
5295
5296
5297
5298
5299
5300
5301
5302
5303
5304
5305
5306
5307
5308
5309
5310
5311
5312
5313
5314
5315
5316
5317
5318
5319
5320
5321
5322
5323
5324
5325
5326
5327
5328
5329
5330
5331
5332
5333
5334
5335
5336
5337
5338
5339
5340
5341
5342
5343
5344
5345
5346
5347
5348
5349
5350
5351
5352
5353
5354
5355
5356
5357
5358
5359
5360
5361
5362
5363
5364
5365
5366
5367
5368
5369
5370
5371
5372
5373
5374
5375
5376
5377
5378
5379
5380
5381
5382
5383
5384
5385
5386
5387
5388
5389
5390
5391
5392
5393
5394
5395
5396
5397
5398
5399
5400
5401
5402
5403
5404
5405
5406
5407
5408
5409
5410
5411
5412
5413
5414
5415
5416
5417
5418
5419
5420
5421
5422
5423
5424
5425
5426
5427
5428
5429
5430
5431
5432
5433
5434
5435
5436
5437
5438
5439
5440
5441
5442
5443
5444
5445
5446
5447
5448
5449
5450
5451
5452
5453
5454
5455
5456
5457
5458
5459
5460
5461
5462
5463
5464
5465
5466
5467
5468
5469
5470
5471
5472
5473
5474
5475
5476
5477
5478
5479
5480
5481
5482
5483
5484
5485
5486
5487
5488
5489
5490
5491
5492
5493
5494
5495
5496
5497
5498
5499
5500
5501
5502
5503
5504
5505
5506
5507
5508
5509
5510
5511
5512
5513
5514
5515
5516
5517
5518
5519
5520
5521
5522
5523
5524
5525
5526
5527
5528
5529
5530
5531
5532
5533
5534
5535
5536
5537
5538
5539
5540
5541
5542
5543
5544
5545
5546
5547
5548
5549
5550
5551
5552
5553
5554
5555
5556
5557
5558
5559
5560
5561
5562
5563
5564
5565
5566
5567
5568
5569
5570
5571
5572
5573
5574
5575
5576
5577
5578
5579
5580
5581
5582
5583
5584
5585
5586
5587
5588
5589
5590
5591
5592
5593
5594
5595
5596
5597
5598
5599
5600
5601
5602
5603
5604
5605
5606
5607
5608
5609
5610
5611
5612
5613
5614
5615
5616
5617
5618
5619
5620
5621
5622
5623
5624
5625
5626
5627
5628
5629
5630
5631
5632
5633
5634
5635
5636
5637
5638
5639
5640
5641
5642
5643
5644
5645
5646
5647
5648
5649
5650
5651
5652
5653
5654
5655
5656
5657
5658
5659
5660
5661
5662
5663
5664
5665
5666
5667
5668
5669
5670
5671
5672
5673
5674
5675
5676
5677
5678
5679
5680
5681
5682
5683
5684
5685
5686
5687
5688
5689
5690
5691
5692
5693
5694
5695
5696
5697
5698
5699
5700
5701
5702
5703
5704
5705
5706
5707
5708
5709
5710
5711
5712
5713
5714
5715
5716
5717
5718
5719
5720
5721
5722
5723
5724
5725
5726
5727
5728
5729
5730
5731
5732
5733
5734
5735
5736
5737
5738
5739
5740
5741
5742
5743
5744
5745
5746
5747
5748
5749
5750
5751
5752
5753
5754
5755
5756
5757
5758
5759
5760
5761
5762
5763
5764
5765
5766
5767
5768
5769
5770
5771
5772
5773
5774
5775
5776
5777
5778
5779
5780
5781
5782
5783
5784
5785
5786
5787
5788
5789
5790
5791
5792
5793
5794
5795
5796
5797
5798
5799
5800
5801
5802
5803
5804
5805
5806
5807
5808
5809
5810
5811
5812
5813
5814
5815
5816
5817
5818
5819
5820
5821
5822
5823
5824
5825
5826
5827
5828
5829
5830
5831
5832
5833
5834
5835
5836
5837
5838
5839
5840
5841
5842
5843
5844
5845
5846
5847
5848
5849
5850
5851
5852
5853
5854
5855
5856
5857
5858
5859
5860
5861
5862
5863
5864
5865
5866
5867
5868
5869
5870
5871
5872
5873
5874
5875
5876
5877
5878
5879
5880
5881
5882
5883
5884
5885
5886
5887
5888
5889
5890
5891
5892
5893
5894
5895
5896
5897
5898
5899
5900
5901
5902
5903
5904
5905
5906
5907
5908
5909
5910
5911
5912
5913
5914
5915
5916
5917
5918
5919
5920
5921
5922
5923
5924
5925
5926
5927
5928
5929
5930
5931
5932
5933
5934
5935
5936
5937
5938
5939
5940
5941
5942
5943
5944
5945
5946
5947
5948
5949
5950
5951
5952
5953
5954
5955
5956
5957
5958
5959
5960
5961
5962
5963
5964
5965
5966
5967
5968
5969
5970
5971
5972
5973
5974
5975
5976
5977
5978
5979
5980
5981
5982
5983
5984
5985
5986
5987
5988
5989
5990
5991
5992
5993
5994
5995
5996
5997
5998
5999
6000
6001
6002
6003
6004
6005
6006
6007
6008
6009
6010
6011
6012
6013
6014
6015
6016
6017
6018
6019
6020
6021
6022
6023
6024
6025
6026
6027
6028
6029
6030
6031
6032
6033
6034
6035
6036
6037
6038
6039
6040
6041
6042
6043
6044
6045
6046
6047
6048
6049
6050
6051
6052
6053
6054
6055
6056
6057
6058
6059
6060
6061
6062
6063
6064
6065
6066
6067
6068
6069
6070
6071
6072
6073
6074
6075
6076
6077
6078
6079
6080
6081
6082
6083
6084
6085
6086
6087
6088
6089
6090
6091
6092
6093
6094
6095
6096
6097
6098
6099
6100
6101
6102
6103
6104
6105
6106
6107
6108
6109
6110
6111
6112
6113
6114
6115
6116
6117
6118
6119
6120
6121
6122
6123
6124
6125
6126
6127
6128
6129
6130
6131
6132
6133
6134
6135
6136
6137
6138
6139
6140
6141
6142
6143
6144
6145
6146
6147
6148
6149
6150
6151
6152
6153
6154
6155
6156
6157
6158
6159
6160
6161
6162
6163
6164
6165
6166
6167
6168
6169
6170
6171
6172
6173
6174
6175
6176
6177
6178
6179
6180
6181
6182
6183
6184
6185
6186
6187
6188
6189
6190
6191
6192
6193
6194
6195
6196
6197
6198
6199
6200
6201
6202
6203
6204
6205
6206
6207
6208
6209
6210
6211
6212
6213
6214
6215
6216
6217
6218
6219
6220
6221
6222
6223
6224
6225
6226
6227
6228
6229
6230
6231
6232
6233
6234
6235
6236
6237
6238
6239
6240
6241
6242
6243
6244
6245
6246
6247
6248
6249
6250
6251
6252
6253
6254
6255
6256
6257
6258
6259
6260
6261
6262
6263
6264
6265
6266
6267
6268
6269
6270
6271
6272
6273
6274
6275
6276
6277
6278
6279
6280
6281
6282
6283
6284
6285
6286
6287
6288
6289
6290
6291
6292
6293
6294
6295
6296
6297
6298
6299
6300
6301
6302
6303
6304
6305
6306
6307
6308
6309
6310
6311
6312
6313
6314
6315
6316
6317
6318
6319
6320
6321
6322
6323
6324
6325
6326
6327
6328
6329
6330
6331
6332
6333
6334
6335
6336
6337
6338
6339
6340
6341
6342
6343
6344
6345
6346
6347
6348
6349
6350
6351
6352
6353
6354
6355
6356
6357
6358
6359
6360
6361
6362
6363
6364
6365
6366
6367
6368
6369
6370
6371
6372
6373
6374
6375
6376
6377
6378
6379
6380
6381
6382
6383
6384
6385
6386
6387
6388
6389
6390
6391
6392
6393
6394
6395
6396
6397
6398
6399
6400
6401
6402
6403
6404
6405
6406
6407
6408
6409
6410
6411
6412
6413
6414
6415
6416
6417
6418
6419
6420
6421
6422
6423
6424
6425
6426
6427
6428
6429
6430
6431
6432
6433
6434
6435
6436
6437
6438
6439
6440
6441
6442
6443
6444
6445
6446
6447
6448
6449
6450
6451
6452
6453
6454
6455
6456
6457
6458
6459
6460
6461
6462
6463
6464
6465
6466
6467
6468
6469
6470
6471
6472
6473
6474
6475
6476
6477
6478
6479
6480
6481
6482
6483
6484
6485
6486
6487
6488
6489
6490
6491
6492
6493
6494
6495
6496
6497
6498
6499
6500
6501
6502
6503
6504
6505
6506
6507
6508
6509
6510
6511
6512
6513
6514
6515
6516
6517
6518
6519
6520
6521
6522
6523
6524
6525
6526
6527
6528
6529
6530
6531
6532
6533
6534
6535
6536
6537
6538
6539
6540
6541
6542
6543
6544
6545
6546
6547
6548
6549
6550
6551
6552
6553
6554
6555
6556
6557
6558
6559
6560
6561
6562
6563
6564
6565
6566
6567
6568
6569
6570
6571
6572
                                                              1.



                      II
            ‘Life, to be sure, Is nothing much
            to lose, But young men think it is,
            And we were young.’

    -A.E. Housman

    ‘We have so much to say, and we shall never say it.’

    -Erich Maria Remarque

    All Quiet On The Western Front

                      III
            NOTE:

    The following script takes place in real time, and - with
    the exception of one moment - is written and designed to be
    one single continuous shot.


1   EXT. MEADOW - DAY - APRIL 6TH 1917                             1

    A rolling landscape. The rustling of leaves, and birdsong.

    Thunder rumbles in the distance. There is no rain.

    A figure lies against a tree, eyes closed - this is
    SCHOFIELD, early-20s. Soft features.

    A man is sleeping next to him on the grass - BLAKE, 19,
    youthful, strapping.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.)
            Blake.

    Blake doesn’t stir.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.)
            Blake!

    Blake wakes. He’s in uniform, damp and crumpled - Lance
    Corporal chevrons adorn it.

                      BLAKE
                 (sleepily)
            Sorry, Sarge.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            Pick a man, bring your kit.
                                                            2.


                  BLAKE
        Yes, Sarge.

Blake stands, stiff limbs coming back to life.

Schofield’s eyes are still shut. Blake holds out his hand
to Schofield. Schofield opens his eyes - they are gentle,
wise.

Schofield grudgingly raises his hand for a lift.

Blake heaves him to his feet - his uniform is identical to
Blake’s, same rank, the only difference is the brass wound
stripe on Schofield’s left sleeve.

They trudge towards Sanders, fastening their webbing. A
smattering of SOLDIERS - same regiment - same state of
fatigue and filth, lie around them. Stealing sleep.

                  SERGEANT SANDERS (O.S.)
        Don’t dawdle.

                  BLAKE
        No, Sarge.

After a few paces the long grass begins to give way to well
trodden earth. Washing lines appears on either side of
them.

Blake and Schofield move past them. After a while -

                  BLAKE
        Did they feed us?

Schofield shakes his head, he hands an envelope to Blake.

                  SCHOFIELD
        No, just mail.

Blake’s eyes light up at the sight of the envelope, he
tears it open, reads it as he walks. Eyes scanning quickly,
his face filling with warmth.

                  BLAKE
             (reading)
        Myrtle’s having puppies.

Blake finishes the note and slips it into a pocket.

                  BLAKE
        You get anything?
                                                                3.


                      SCHOFIELD
            No.

    Schofield doesn’t seem to mind.

    The mess tents are now alongside. Fires are stoked, cooking
    is underway. More soldiers mill about.

                      BLAKE
            I’m bloody starving, aren’t you? I
            thought we might get some decent
            grub out here - only reason I
            decided against the priesthood.

    Schofield lets out a laugh. Blake looks on hungrily as they
    pass by the mess tents.

    Schofield rummages in his pockets, finds what he’s looking
    for - a handkerchief with some food wrapped in it. Blake’s
    eyes fall on it hungrily.

                      BLAKE
            What you got there?

                      SCHOFIELD
            Ham and bread.

                      BLAKE
            Where did you find that?

                      SCHOFIELD
            I have my uses.

    Schofield breaks the bread in half. As he does this, they
    move down a slope, and begin to descend down into the
    earth, into--


2   EXT. COMMS TRENCH - DAY - CONTINUOUS                             2

    A narrow Comms trench.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Here-

    The bread is stale, practically cardboard. Blake’s teeth
    struggle to get through it.

                      BLAKE
                 (mouth full of food)
            Tastes like old shoe.

                      SCHOFIELD
                                                         4.


        Cheer up. This time next week it’ll
        be chicken dinner.

The trench drops deeper into the earth...

                  BLAKE
        Not me. Leave got cancelled.

                  SCHOFIELD
        They say why?

                   BLAKE
        No idea.

A beat. The world above has now disappeared.

                  SCHOFIELD
        It’s easier not to go back at all.

Blake registers this - looks at him.

The wider Rear Trench crosses their path. Chains of
soldiers move past them - shifting crates, ammunition,
cooking, and medical supplies.

                  BLAKE
             (looking at the soldiers)
        Something’s up.

Expectation is growing in Blake. But Schofield looks
concerned. They cut a route through the bustle.

                  BLAKE
        Did you hear anything?

                   SCHOFIELD
        No.

                  BLAKE
        Has to be the push, right?

Men carrying things push past them. Blake watches.

                  BLAKE
        Ten bob says we’re going up.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I’m not taking that bet.

                  BLAKE
        Why? ‘Cos you know I’m right?
                                                               5.


                      SCHOFIELD
            No. ‘Cos you haven’t got ten bob.

    Blake laughs.

    They follow Sanders into-


3   EXT. SECOND TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                                 3

    They turn into a wider second line trench.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            In your own time, gentlemen...

    Up ahead, Sanders waits.

    Blake and Schofield put on speed, catch Sanders.

                      BLAKE
            Is there news, Sarge?

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            News of what?

                      BLAKE
            The big push. It was supposed to
            happen weeks ago. They told us we’d
            be home by Christmas.

                       SERGEANT SANDERS
                  (mild sarcasm)
            Yes, well, sorry to disrupt your
            crowded schedule, Blake, but the
            Brass Hats didn’t fancy it in the
            snow.

                      BLAKE
            More’s the pity Sarge, I could have
            done with some turkey.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            Well, I’ll make sure to relay your
            displeasure to command.

    Ahead and above them is a web of telegraph wires -
    stretching overhead and along the trench. THREE ROYAL
    ENGINEERS are working on them, tagging and testing. They
    duck around them.

                      SCHOFIELD
            So what’s on the cards then,
            Sergeant?
                                                               6.


                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            The Hun are up to something.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Any idea what?

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            No - but it’s bound to ruin our
            weekend.

    Sanders turns a corner, and comes to a stop. Just beyond
    him is the dark, yawning mouth of a Dugout.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            Now listen, Erinmore is inside, so
            tidy yourselves up.

    They are suddenly alert.

                      SERGEANT SANDERS
            You never know - might be mentions
            in dispatches for this one, if you
            don’t bugger it up.

    Sanders gives them a look, and disappears inside the
    dugout.

    Schofield quickly buttons up his tunic, hiding any sins
    there may be underneath.

    Blake nervously tidies himself, leans in to Schofield.

                      BLAKE
            Must be something big if the
            General’s here.

    They enter.


4   INT. DUGOUT - CONTINUOUS                                        4

    Lit by paraffin lamps, it takes Schofield a moment for his
    eyes to adjust to the half-light. He and Blake hand their
    rifles to the ORDERLIES, salute, and stand at attention.

    There is a simmering sense of unease in this place.

    In the centre of the room, there are two tables. On one
    table lie several maps, on the other are a number of large
    aerial reconnaissance photographs.
                                                          7.


GENERAL ERINMORE (50s), LIEUTENANT GORDON (40s) and a
CAPTAIN are gathered around the far table, looking down at
the aerials, talking in hushed tones.

Other men watch from the shadows - TWO NCOs and ANOTHER
ORDERLY.

                  SERGEANT SANDERS
        Lance Corporals Blake and
        Schofield, Sir.

General Erinmore turns around. Looks at Blake and
Schofield.

                  GENERAL ERINMORE
        Which one of you is Blake?

                  BLAKE
        Sir.

                  ERINMORE
        You have a brother, a Lieutenant in
        the 2nd Devons?

                  BLAKE
        Yes, sir. Joseph Blake. Is he-

                  ERINMORE
        Alive, as far as I know. And with
        your help I’d like to keep it that
        way.

Blake stares at Erinmore, he would do anything.

                  ERINMORE
        Sanders tells me you’re good with
        maps. That true?

                  BLAKE
        Good enough, Sir.

                  ERINMORE
        So.

Erinmore turns the map to face Blake. The British lines are
marked in blue, the German lines in red.

                  ERINMORE
        We are here. The 2nd Devons are
        advancing here.

He points out a cross on the map at Croisilles Wood.
                                                         8.


                  ERINMORE
        How long will it take you to get
        there?

Blake hesitantly studies it. Croisilles Wood sits in the
centre of a huge area of land, which is scored as occupied
territory.

                  BLAKE
        I don’t understand, Sir.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Sir, that land is held by the
        Germans.

                  ERINMORE
        Germans have gone.

Shock plays on their faces.

                  ERINMORE
        Don’t get your hopes up. It appears
        to be a strategic withdrawal. They
        seem to have created a new line,
        nine miles back here, by the looks
        of it.

Erinmore runs his finger along the massed red lines of the
German trenches and fortifications, newly drawn on the map.

The new German Line - what came to be known as the
Hindenburg Line - is huge, and cuts its way across the
paper, almost intersecting with Croisilles Wood.

                  ERINMORE
        Colonel Mackenzie is in command of
        the 2nd. He sent word yesterday
        morning that he was going after the
        retreating Germans. He is convinced
        he has them on the run - that if he
        can break their lines now, he will
        turn the tide. He is wrong.

Schofield watches Blake as he begins to register what this
might mean.

                  ERINMORE
        Colonel Mackenzie has not seen
        these aerials of the enemy’s new
        line.

Erinmore turns to the other table.
                                                          9.


                  ERINMORE
        Come round here, Gentlemen.

Blake and Schofield move to the next table. They look down
at the large aerial photographs.

                  ERINMORE
        Three miles deep. Field
        fortifications, defences and
        artillery the like of which we’ve
        never seen before.

Beat.

                  ERINMORE
        The 2nd are due to attack the line
        shortly after dawn tomorrow. They
        have no idea what they are in for.
        And we can’t warn them - as a
        parting gift, the enemy cut all our
        telephone lines.

Blake and Schofield are silent while they take this in.

                  ERINMORE
        Your orders are to get to the 2nd
        at Croisilles Wood, one mile south
        east of the town of Ecoust.

Erinmore hands over an envelope to Blake. We see the
distinctive red stamp of Army Command.

                  ERINMORE
        Deliver this to Colonel Mackenzie.
        It is a direct order to call off
        tomorrow morning’s attack.

Erinmore speaks slowly, desperate to impress upon Blake and
Schofield the gravity of this situation. Nothing can be
misunderstood.

                  ERINMORE
        If you don’t, it will be a
        massacre. We would lose two
        battalions. Sixteen hundred men,
        your brother among them.

Schofield hides his shock. But Blake looks at Erinmore,
determination etched in his face: understood.

                  ERINMORE
        Do you think you can get there in
        time?
                                                          10.


                    BLAKE
        Yes, Sir.

                  ERINMORE
        Any questions?

                    BLAKE
        No, Sir.

Schofield eyes flick to Blake: No questions? Blake
purposely doesn’t catch Schofield’s eye.

                  ERINMORE
        Good. Over to you, Lieutenant.

The men salute Erinmore. Lieutenant Gordon, stands to one
side.

                  LIEUTENANT GORDON
        Supplies, Gentlemen.

Lt. Gordon nods them over to a table. Various items are
laid out on it.

                  LIEUTENANT GORDON
        Map, torches, grenades, and a
        couple of little treats.

They look. A folded map, two electric torches, two grenades
and two small packs of Huntley and Palmer biscuits lie on
the table. They take them and start hastily putting them
into their webbing. While they do:

                  LIEUTENANT GORDON
        Leave immediately, take this trench
        west, up on Sauchiehall Street,
        then north west on Paradise Alley
        at the front. Continue along the
        front line until you find the
        Yorks.

Gordon slides a note into Blake’s top pocket.

                  LIEUTENANT GORDON
        Give this note to Major Stevenson.
        He’s holding the line at the
        shortest span of No Man’s Land.
        You’ll cross there.

Both men turn at the mention of No Man’s Land.

                    SCHOFIELD
                                                            11.


            It will be daylight, Sir. They’ll
            see us.

                      ERINMORE (O.C.)
            No need to be concerned. You should
            meet no resistance.

    An Orderly hands them back their rifles.

    Blake moves towards the doorway. Schofield turns to
    Erinmore.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Sir, is it just us?

    Erinmore looks up.

                      ERINMORE
            “Down to Gehenna or up to the
            Throne

                      ERINMORE
            He travels the fastest who travels
            alone.” Wouldn’t you say,
            Lieutenant?

                      LIEUTENANT GORDON
            Yes, Sir. I would.

    The General looks at them levelly.

                      ERINMORE
            Good luck.

    Blake and Schofield turn and head through the door-


5   EXT. SECOND LINE TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                          5

    Schofield’s eyes wince in the daylight. A small curved
    branch leads from the rear of the dugout back to the Second
    Line.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Blake - let’s talk about this for a
            minute.

                         BLAKE
            Why?

    Blake is already off, moving fast.
                                                           12.


Schofield moves after him, trying to fill and fasten his
webbing as he goes.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Blake!

Blake begins to move faster, setting a punishing pace.
Boots clattering over the wooden boards.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We just need to think about it-

                  BLAKE
        -There’s nothing to think about.
        It’s my big brother.

Schofield runs to catch up, he falls in behind Blake,
breathing heavy.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We should at least wait till it’s
        dark-

                  BLAKE
        Erinmore said to leave immediately.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Erinmore’s never seen No Man’s
        Land. We won’t make it ten yards.
        If we just wait-

                  BLAKE
        You heard him. He said the Boche
        have gone.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Is that why he gave us grenades?

The Second line runs through a small row of derelict
railway cottages. Braziers have been lit, men mill around
queueing to collect their rations.

Schofield and Blake push themselves to the edge of the
trench to get around the crush.

Blake is through and clear, but Schofield bumps into a
Sergeant.

                  SERGEANT
        Watch where you’re going!

                  SCHOFIELD
        Sorry.
                                                               13.


    Blake keeps pace, Schofield jogs to catch him.

                      SCHOFIELD
            All I’m saying is that we wait.

                      BLAKE
            Yes, you would say that, because
            it’s not your brother, is it?

    Schofield moves alongside Blake again, grabs his arm.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Look, the last time I was told the
            Germans were gone, it didn’t end
            well.

    Blake shakes him off, and pushes his way forward, squeezing
    in and out of the lines of traffic - His shoulder and pack
    battering against MEN as he passes them.

                      SCHOFIELD
            You don’t know, Blake, you weren’t
            there.

    Ahead a group of men are bunched up collecting mail and
    parcels from the post bag. Gumming up the trench.

                      BLAKE
            Excuse me... Excuse me!

    Blake and Schofield squeeze past them.

    Another junction. A painted sign: “SAUCHIEHALL STREET”
    points to a smaller branching comms line. Blake turns up
    it.

    Schofield follows-


6   EXT. SAUCHIEHALL LINE - COMMS “DOWN” TRENCH - CONTINUOUS         6

    Much narrower. Blake pushes onwards, going against the
    direction of the traffic. Schofield follows after him,
    single file, increasingly frustrated. Soldiers buffet
    against them.

    A Sergeant snarls at them.

                      SERGEANT MILLER
            You’re going up a down trench you
            bloody idiots.

                         BLAKE
                                                               14.


            Orders of the General, Sir.

    Schofield follows, catching the ire from the men Blake has
    just passed. He checks his watch.

                      SCHOFIELD
            Alright, say the Boche have gone.
            Nine miles will take us, what, six
            hours? Eight at the very most. So
            we’ve got time to wait until the
            sun sets. Otherwise we’ll be wide
            open-

                      BLAKE
            -It’s enemy territory, we’ve got no
            idea what we’re walking into-

                      SCHOFIELD
            -Blake, if we’re not clever about
            this, no one will get to your
            brother.

                      BLAKE
            I will.

    Blake’s tone indicates that this is the end of the
    conversation.

    They are approaching a junction. They slow down. A flicker
    of fear on both of their faces.

                      SCHOFIELD
            We’re here. This is the front line.


7   EXT. PARADISE - FRONT LINE - TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                 7

    The Front Line.

    A sign hangs on the junction wall: PARADISE ALLEY. Just
    visible above the trench wall to the front is an endless
    line of wire.

                      BLAKE
            Now we need to find the Yorks.

    There is an eeriness here, a sudden smothering silence.

    Blake looks around. Trying to work out which way is North
    West.

    Blake heads in that direction, moving fast again. Schofield
    follows alongside him.
                                                          15.


The trench stretches away from them, in a long line.

Duckboards slick with mud mark out a path.

There are many men here, and many pairs of eyes watch from
the shadows of dugouts.

Crudely painted signs are strung up along the walls, dire
warnings. We catch glimpses as Blake and Schofield pass:

KEEP YOUR HEAD DOWN IN DAYLIGHT! ENEMY SNIPERS AT PLAY!

They walk single file down the Front Line.

TWO STRETCHER BEARERS are heading towards them, A MAN
carried between them. Schofield drops back, looks down. The
man is unconscious, his face bandaged - two red bloodstains
in place of eyes.

Fear is rooting itself in Schofield. He fights it.

Schofield looks up, he’s briefly lost sight of Blake round
the next bend. He moves to catch up. He hears voices.

                  PRIVATE STOKES (O.S.)
        Here, watch who you’re shoving.

                  BLAKE (O.S.)
        Get out of the way then.

Schofield’s puts on speed, quickly pushes aside the soldier
in front of him.

He makes his way to Blake, three SOLDIERS have surrounded
him. One, PRIVATE STOKES - a large red-haired bruiser, with
tattoos on his forearms - is gripping Blake’s tunic. Blake
has him by the collar. Both are angry. Blake is on the
verge of tears.

                  BLAKE
        Let go.

                  PRIVATE STOKES
        Fuck you think you are, pushing
        wounded men around?

Schofield is quickly into the fray, putting himself in
between Blake and the Private.

                  BLAKE
        Let go of me!
                                                           16.


                  SCHOFIELD
        Stop.

                  PRIVATE STOKES
        Arsehole knocked our Sergeant down,
        the man’s fucking wounded-

Beside them an NCO with a sling on, is being helped out of
the mud.

                  BLAKE
        Alright. I’m sorry, alright, I’m
        sorry.

Blake struggles to get free, tears of frustration well in
his eyes. Schofield sees this, realises Blake is on the
verge of losing control.

The Private’s hand balls into a fist, his anger simmering.

Schofield gets between them.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We’re on commission. Orders from
        the General.

                  BLAKE
        Let me through.

Stokes stops.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (levelly)
        Get out of the way.

                  PRIVATE STOKES
        Right. Just watch where you’re
        going.

The other men move aside to give them a passage through.

They keep moving. Schofield is a step behind Blake, he
steals glances at him, concerned.

The two men walk on, the silence heavier. After a while -

                  SCHOFIELD
        It’s bloody quiet...

A beat. Blake looks at Schofield.

                  BLAKE
                                                          17.


        Was it like this before Thiepval?

The name does something to Schofield. Fear clings to him.
He pushes it away.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I don’t remember.

                  BLAKE
        You don’t remember the Somme?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Not really.

                  BLAKE
        Well, you did alright out of it. At
        least wear your ribbon.

Beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Don’t have it anymore.

They push on round the next bend.

                  BLAKE
        What? You lost your medal?

Before he can answer, the trench suddenly expands - the
back wall has been blown out into a large crater. Debris
and sandbags are strewn around. A small team of DIGGERS
work on it with picks and shovels, breaking up the earth,
pulling out body parts from the mud, putting them in empty
sandbags.

                    SCHOFIELD
        Stay low.

Schofield climbs over the rubble and sandbags, crushing his
body to keep his head below the front parapet.

Blake follows. One of the diggers turns to Schofield, his
voice a harsh whisper.

                  NCO HARVEY
        God’s sake. Careful there, you’re
        stepping on the dead.

Schofield looks at the sandbag, 15 inches by 25. Red is
rusting through it.

                  NCO HARVEY
        That’s our Sergeant -
                                                           18.


Schofield quickly moves off the bag.

                  NCO HARVEY
        Be better washing them out of this
        dugout with a bloody hose.

                  BLAKE
        Do you know where the Yorks are?

                  NCO HARVEY
        The next bend you’ll be standing on
        top of half of them. Shot to hell
        two nights ago.

Blake and Schofield continue. They slip round a bend and
into a small bay.

They stop by two men - one is burning the lice from his
clothes with a lighter Another, BUCHANAN, sits against the
back wall, a small dog on his lap.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Yorks?

Buchanan nods.

                  PRIVATE BUCHANAN
        Yes, Corp.

                  BLAKE
        Where’s Major Stevenson?

                  PRIVATE BUCHANAN
        Killed a couple of nights ago,
        Corporal. Lieutenant Leslie has
        command.

                  BLAKE
        Where can we find him?

Buchanan nods down the line.

                  PRIVATE BUCHANAN
        Next dug-out.

They round the bend and spot the dugout. It has been badly
shelled, but patched and re-built. A fire is lit in a
brazier just outside the door. Inside, a provisions bag and
a few other wooden items hang from a rafter, out of reach
of the rats.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Here.
                                                          19.


LT. LESLIE is asleep on a small camp bed, his arm over his
eyes. A couple of ORDERLIES sit or lie nearby.

They approach the sleeping Leslie.

                   BLAKE
        Sir?

He doesn’t stir. Blake speaks louder.

                  BLAKE
        Lieutenant Leslie, Sir?

Leslie stirs a little, he doesn’t move his arm from his
eyes.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        What is it?

                  BLAKE
        We have a message from General
        Erinmore.

Leslie looks up, his face shines with sweat, his voice is
croaky, full of flu, a little delirious.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Are you our relief?

Schofield shakes his head.

                   SCHOFIELD
        No, Sir.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Then when the fucking hell are they
        due?

                  BLAKE
        We don’t know, Sir. But we’ve got
        orders to cross here.

Blake offers the letter.

Leslie sits up. Looks at them queerly.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        That is the German front line.

                  BLAKE
        We know, Sir. If you’ll just take
        the letter-
                                                        20.


Blake hands over Erinmore’s letter. Leslie sighs, tears it
open and reads quickly.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
             (as he reads)
        Settle a bet, what day is it?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Friday.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Friday. Well, well, well. None of
        us was right. This idiot thought it
        was Tuesday.
             (off the letter)
        Are they out of their fucking
        minds?

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        One slow night, and the brass think
        the Hun have just gone home.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (looking at Blake)
        Do you think they’re wrong, Sir?

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        We lost an officer and three men
        two nights ago. They were shot to
        bits patching up wire. We dragged
        two of them back here. Needn’t have
        bothered.

Blake is determined to press on.

                  BLAKE
        Sir, the General is sure the enemy
        have withdrawn. There are aerials
        of the new line-

Leslie gets to his feet.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Shut up. We’ve fought and died over
        every inch of this fucking place,
        now they suddenly give us miles?

Schofield turns and stares at Blake.

Blake won’t meet his eye.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        It’s a trap.
                                                           21.


Leslie leans in to Schofield.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        But, chin up. There’s a medal in it
        for sure. Nothing like a scrap of
        ribbon to cheer up a widow.

Schofield stares at him like he would lift him out of his
boots with one punch.

                   LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Alright.

Leslie walks out of the dugout. As he walks-

                  BLAKE
        Where’s the nearest way through,
        Sir?

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Our wire’s a mess. But there is a
        path through. Of sorts.

He leads them a few paces to a small dead-end lookout
trench, half earth, half corrugated steel. At the end of it
is a rudimentary periscope.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
             (to the soldier)
        Rushworth! Let him look.

The soldier manning it steps away to allow them to look.

Blake presses his eye to the lens.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Straight ahead, to the left, past
        the dead horses-

Blake squints, moves the periscope. While Blake does this,
Leslie lights a cigarette, his hands shaking.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        There’s a gap directly behind them.
        Useful, because if it’s dark you
        follow the stench. When you get to
        the second wire, look out for the
        bowing chap. There’s small break
        just beside him.

As Blake scans the terrain with the periscope, Schofield
methodically prepares himself.
                                                           22.


                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        The German line is a hundred and
        fifty odd yards after that. Watch
        out for the craters. They’re deeper
        than they look. You fall in,
        there’s no getting out.

Leslie indicates for them to follow.

                    LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        This way.

Leslie kicks at a sleeping PRIVATE KILGOUR as he walks.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Wake up, Kilgour.
             (to himself)
        Bloody waste of space.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Any cover, Sir? Anywhere to jump
        off from?

Leslie leads them to a wide ladder leaning against the
trench wall.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        No. The sap trench was blown to
        hell weeks ago. It’s full of bodies
        anyway. Your best bet is to pop
        over here.

Blake and Schofield stop by the ladder, ready themselves,
checking and loading their rifles, fixing their bayonets

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        If you do get shot, try to make it
        back to the wire. We won’t come
        after you, not until it’s dark.
        And, if by some fucking miracle you
        do make it, send up a flare.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Don’t have any, Sir.

Leslie gestures impatiently to a nearby PRIVATE KILGOUR.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Well get him one, Kilgour! Make
        yourself useful.

                    PRIVATE KILGOUR
        Yes, Sir.
                                                          23.


Kilgour goes to fetch the flare gun, Leslie amuses himself:

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
             (sprinkling whisky on the
             men)
        “Through this holy unction may the
        Lord pardon thee whatever sins or
        faults thou hast committed”

Leslie laughs mirthlessly. Schofield and Blake try to stay
focused.

Kilgour hands Leslie a flare pistol and two cartridges.

                  LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        I do hate losing these to the Hun.
        So when they start shooting at you,
        could you be so kind as to throw it
        back, there’s a good chap.

Blake tucks the flare and cartridges into his pack.

                    LIEUTENANT LESLIE
        Cheerio.

Leslie steps back. A crowd of MEN have now gathered behind
him to watch Blake and Schofield, their faces a combination
of shock and fascination.

Blake and Schofield climb onto the firing step.

Schofield looks at Blake, speaks quietly to him.

                    SCHOFIELD
        You sure?

Blake isn’t. But he nods.

                    BLAKE
        Yes.

Blake goes to climb over. Schofield stops him.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Age before beauty.

Schofield takes a deep breath, and goes first. He puts one
hand over the parapet. Then the other.

Slowly he advances up, his head inching over the protection
of the trench. His hand is shaking, he drives it into the
mud, grasping for purchase.
                                                               24.


    Everyone is still, breathless, listening for the enemy to
    fire.

    Schofield drags his body up and over into -


8   EXT. NO MAN'S LAND - CONTINUOUS                                  8

    Vast, almost unbearably open after the close quarters of
    the trench.

    A light mist hangs low over the land.

    The ground is treacle-like. Schofield’s hands and knees
    sink into it as he pulls himself forward, his eyes are
    trained through the British wire towards the German lines.

    The whole world is lunar and empty. Earth pounded to atoms,
    all mounds and holes.

    Nothing moves. Nothing lives.

    The only sound is Blake’s breathing as he heaves himself
    out of the trench beside Schofield.

    Both men are still for a beat. Hunched down low on their
    knees, two nocturnal animals caught in the daylight.

    British wire runs in loops ahead of them, tangled and
    haphazardly strung. A mess to navigate through.

    They get to their feet and move forwards over the slick
    earth, towards the putrid remains of the horses. Breathing
    through their mouths, trying to deal with the stench.

    A layer of black fur covers the animals, as Schofield and
    Blake close in on them they see the fur is actually flies,
    hundreds of them.

    Schofield moves past the remains and through the first
    break in the wire. The path is pocked with craters and
    puddles, shrapnel litters everything.

    Blake follows Schofield through the channel - ahead, on the
    second wire, is “the bowing chap” - a GERMAN SOLDIER, dead,
    bent double over the wire, one arm outstretched in a
    courtly manner, as if bowing.
                                                           25.


Schofield doesn’t linger on the dead German, doesn’t look
at his face. He focuses on the task at hand. To the side of
the man is a small gap in the razor wire, easy to miss
without the landmark. Schofield struggles to further pull
apart the dense tangle of wire. He indicates for Blake to
pass through.

As he does so, Schofield slips in the mud. His hand
instinctively closes around the wire. It slices into his
palm, hooking into his flesh.

Bright red seeps along his hand, he wrenches it back,
tearing the skin to free himself. A heavy breath hisses out
of him.

He balls his hand into a fist to stem the bleeding.

                  BLAKE (O.C.)
        You alright?

Blake looks at him with concern. Schofield nods that he’s
fine.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Look for cover.

Everything after here is unnatural land. Craters are gouged
out of the earth. There is a rise and fall to this stretch,
but no flow or reason to it.

About a hundred yards from them, in the distance, is an
artificial horizon, something grey, mesh-like, stretching
the entire length of the land - The German Wire. Occasional
dead trees dot the land beyond.

Blake goes into the closest crater. He looks to Schofield,
some silent communication. Schofield’s eyes pull out a path
where there isn’t one.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Sap trench.

Schofield goes first, crouching low, moving faster now,
picking his way towards a hole in the earth.

And then jumps directly into the old sap trench.

Blown out and neglected, it is now little more than a
ditch, but it offers a stretch of cover.

Schofield checks his wounded hand. It pulses blood. He
feels as if he is being watched. He looks around.
                                                           26.


Next to him is the body of a German soldier; face down in
the mud, rats are on the corpse, feasting.

Blake jumps into the sap just next to Schofield. He lands
right next to A DEAD MAN, looking straight at them. He is
sitting up, his lips and eyes have been chewed off by rats.

White teeth grin in a pale face.

Blake reflexively scrambles back in horror, knocking into
Schofield. Schofield slips, reaches out to steady himself,
and grabs at the first thing he finds - the BODY OF THE
GERMAN.

Schofield’s wounded hand lands on the man’s back and sinks
- right through.

Schofield’s cut hand goes into the putrid flesh.

Beside him, Blake is frozen. Panicking.

Schofield gestures to him - ‘stay calm’. Blake tries to
steady himself.

They move further along the side of the sap trench.
Schofield peers out. About eighty yards now to the German
wire.

They gather themselves. Schofield takes the lead. He pulls
himself out of the sap, Blake follows.

They move, crouched low. Watching. Waiting for guns to open
on them.

Silence.

The land is flatter here. There is an eerie feeling of
emptiness and silence. Schofield and Blake keep moving
forwards, trying to stay focused. Crouching to keep low.

The mud is like oil, but some things are solid underfoot.

Outlines of guns, shrapnel, unexploded shells, bodies.

Suddenly a loud sound approaching.

TWO PLANES.

Blake and Schofield both move quickly to the nearest shell-
hole. They throw themselves in and freeze. Keeping the
brims of their helmets low, hiding their faces from the
planes above. Blending in to the landscape around them.
                                                           27.


                  SCHOFIELD
             (Sotto)
        Stay still.

The engines grow louder. The planes fly close overhead, and
then begin to recede into the distance.

Both men now turn their heads to look at them.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (Sotto)
        They’re ours.

Blake nods.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (Sotto)
        Keep going. We’re half way.

They move back out into the open expanse.

Large shell holes appear on either side of them. They pick
their way through them, balancing carefully along the
ridges.

They climb to the top of a small hillock and suddenly on
the other-side - vertigo. The ground falls away steeply in
a mine crater, stories deep.

They look down into it.

                  BLAKE
        There’s a gap in the wire.

We can see the base of the crater: The nearest line of
German wire has been split by the blast, and hangs limply
down the side wall of the crater, the other half of it
disappears into a huge pool of water at its base.

They meet each other’s gaze. An obvious way through the
wire.

It’s clear they need to go down into the crater.

They slide carefully down the steep bank.

At the base of the crater the water is fathomless - the
colour of mucus, and the same consistency. A DEAD GERMAN
floats in it, bloated.

Blake follows in Schofield’s exact footsteps, walking
around the edge of the pool.
                                                           28.


Blake looks into the pool. Things float in it. Bodies. The
pages of a letter, a cigarette tin, a water canteen.

Ahead of them, halfway up the far bank another line of
German wire - the main one - is suspended across the
crater. There is a gap beneath the wire.

They climb up the far bank towards the gap. Blake is
struggling.

                  BLAKE
        Sco...

Schofield helps him up the slope.

The main German wire is a huge thicket of razor wire,
denser than a hedgerow. Using their hands, they dig into
the muddy sides of the crater, and pull themselves upwards,
through the German wire.

Schofield looks - close to him, caught on the wire, a small
clump of human hair blows in the breeze.

Hands and bayonets digging deep into the muddy bank, they
haul themselves out of the crater. Ahead of them is the
German Front Line.

                  BLAKE
        There! That’s the front line.

They lift their rifles and aim them towards the German
line.

Blake moves first. He quickly approaches the German trench.

Schofield is next to him.

Both men suck in a breath and stand tall, leaning over the
German sandbags.

Their rifles sweep in unison down the length of the trench.

Empty. Schofield turns to Blake.

                  BLAKE
        Fuck me. They really have gone.

They look around in awe - this trench is massive,
fortified... and seemingly abandoned. Intermittent shell
holes have levelled large sections.

Blake and Schofield drop down into the trench.
                                                                29.


9    EXT. GERMAN FRONT LINE TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                       9

     This trench is better crafted than the British trench.
     Deeper and well reinforced, and eerily empty. They are
     alone.

     To one side the trench is smashed in. A mountain of earth
     and debris. Blocked.

     Schofield crouches, attends to his bleeding hand. Blood
     oozes out of it.

                       BLAKE
             Your hand alright?

                       SCHOFIELD
             Put it through an effing German.

     Schofield has taken out his canteen, he pours water on his
     sliced up palm. Blake keeps watch.

                       BLAKE
             Patch it up. You’ll be wanking
             again in no time.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Wrong hand.

     Blake laughs.

     Blake moves off, rifle ready. Schofield follows, wrapping a
     bandage round his hand as they move. He tightens the
     dressing with his teeth. Red seeps through the white gauze.

     Ahead of them is a brazier, full of spent white coal dust.

     Blake kicks it over, the white dust crumbles, red embers
     glow - wisps of smoke. Still smouldering.

     Schofield turns to Blake, his eyes are on the embers too.

                       SCHOFIELD
             They’re not long gone.

     Blake hands tighten on his rifle, he pushes off, heading
     east down-


10   EXT. GERMAN COMMS TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                            10

     Blake leads them into the deep, narrow trench. Creeping
     forward quickly, eyes darting ahead, looking for any enemy.
                                                                30.


     The comms trench opens out into-


11   EXT. GERMAN SECOND LINE TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                      11

     Blake hovers by the mouth of the comms trench, peeking out.

     Another dead end.

                         BLAKE
             No good.

     Schofield is at his back. Their eyes scan the empty second
     line trench.

     They push on in silence.

     Their footsteps click and echo over the duckboards. They
     move, bayonets pointed forward.

     The trench takes a sharp turn. Schofield and Blake inch
     round, rifles up, checking.

     Ahead of them the trench is destroyed. A direct hit. Earth,
     sandbags, and huge splinters of timber jut out of the pile
     of dirt.

                         SCHOFIELD
             Blocked.

     It is impassable.

     Next to them is the mouth of a dugout. A doorway.

     Blake peers into the darkness.

     Timber stairs descend two storeys down into the earth.

                       BLAKE
             This might be a way through.

     They click on their torches and move down the stairs.

     Whole tree trunks have been used to reinforce the walls.
     They share a look. The sophistication of the Germans amazes
     them.

     At the foot of the steps, Blake turns the corner.

                         BLAKE (O.S.)
             Jesus...
                                                                31.


     Schofield follows him quickly, the timber creaks under him
     as he rounds into the mouth of-


12   INT. GERMAN DUGOUT - CONTINUOUS                                  12

     He turns the corner and sees Blake, torch in hand.

                       BLAKE
             Look at this. It’s massive.

     The dugout is huge - an entire barracks carved out of the
     chalky earth. It’s ghostly in the torch light.

     Timber struts run along walls and ceilings. Rows of bunk
     beds run along the length of the huge room, stacked up to
     the ceiling.

                       BLAKE
             They built all this.

     Blake and Schofield move through it, their torchlights
     slicing through the darkness. It is palatial compared with
     what we have seen on the British lines.

     Schofield’s eyes land on something - a photograph,
     someone’s wife and child, pinned to a bed frame. Schofield
     stares at it for a beat.

     Blake noses through some of the detritus left behind by the
     Germans, then moves through into:

     The Officer’s Quarters: Iron bed frames, an arm chair, a
     desk. In one corner are the remains of a cooking area, some
     boxes of supplies lie abandoned.

     Next to one of the beds a tunnel stretches away from him
     into the darkness.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Here’s our way through.

                       BLAKE (O.C.)
             Sco - how about this?

     Schofield turns to see Blake sitting on one of the
     officers’ beds, bouncing gently. The springs squeak loudly
     in the silence, he grins. Then movement catches his eye. A
     massive rat gnaws on a canvass sack suspended form the roof
     beams.

                       BLAKE
                                                          32.


        Bloody hell... Even their rats are
        bigger than ours.

By the light of their torches, they can see a large,
bloated rat moving quickly along one of the roof beams.

Their torches follow the rat, as it scampers along the
beam.

The light catches more canvas sacks, all suspended from a
the ceiling. Grease is pooling at the base of them, turning
them translucent - bags of food, or at least an
approximation of it. Other frayed and empty canvas sacks
lie around.

                  BLAKE
        What do you think’s in the bags?

                  SCHOFIELD
        You cannot be that hungry.

Blake thinks for a beat.

The rat makes a leap for one, dropping from the rafter to
the canvas. The bag swings violently under the rat’s
weight, a pendulum in the middle of the room.

                  BLAKE
        Look at him. Cocky little bastard.

Something has caught Schofield’s eye. A crate full of food
tins has been left in the corner. Schofield walks over and
grabs one.

                  SCHOFIELD
        You could eat this, though.

He turns to read the writing in Blake’s torch light:
“Fleischkonserve”

                  BLAKE
        What is it?

Schofield tosses a tin across the room to him. Blake
catches it, reads the label.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Boche dog meat.

                  BLAKE
        What’s in the other boxes?

Schofield goes for the other crate... and freezes.
                                                           33.


                  BLAKE
        What’s wrong?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Trip wire.

Blake stands stock still.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Don’t move.

The two men are frozen.

                  BLAKE
        Where is it?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Goes from here to the door.

Blake’s breath quickens as he scans the room, trying to
pick out the wire in the torchlight... The door is about
ten feet away.

Suddenly -

BAM!

Both men jump - The rat and the canvas bag are on the
floor.

                  BLAKE
        Jesus!

The rat is dragging the canvas bag towards the door to the
next room, desperate to keep its treasure from the two men.

                  BLAKE
        No...no! -

Blake’s eyes go wide, he starts forward for the rat-

The rat lets go of the bag and flees - into the wire. A
flash of blinding light then almost simultaneously-

BOOM!

Impossibly loud. The blast is reflected back in off the
solid walls, a section of roof drops. Dirt and chalk dust
blast outward.

Blake is flung backwards against the wall with a thud.
                                                           34.


White chalk dust swirls in the room, bright in the
torchlight. Blake’s torch lands on the floor, beam pointing
upwards at the ceiling.

For a second there is silence.

Blake begins to pant. The wind is knocked out of him. He
catches his breath.

He feels his head, reaches for his torch. His eyes scan the
room.

His torchlight slices through the dust and smoke. The world
has been turned over. Some parts are buried. And where
Schofield was standing - a pile of rubble.

Panic streaks across his face.

Then there is a sound. Muffled, from deep in the white
dirt.

Screaming.

Schofield is buried.

Blake is on his feet, staggering towards the mound of chalk
and dust. Moving over it, ears to the dirt, listening.

Schofield’s screams slip through it.

Blake frantically begins to dig.

                  BLAKE
        Sco?!

Ripping earth away from one spot, then listening to
Schofield’s muffled screams and moving to another.

Desperation on his face.

                  BLAKE
        SCO!

The screams are getting weaker. Disappearing beneath the
sounds of the timber creaking and groaning.

Blake swims through the earth, sweeping it away-

Schofield’s screams stop.

Blake thrashes in the chalk - at last unearths -
                                                             35.


     Lips. Schofield’s mouth, wide open, filled with pale grey
     dirt. Still.

                         BLAKE
             SCO! SCO!

     Blake tears the chalk away from his mouth and nose and
     suddenly Schofield heaves into life, retches, coughing up
     dirt, sawing in breaths.

     Blake uncovers Schofield’s face, his eyes are packed with
     dirt and chalk. Blake keeps digging, frees Schofield’s arm,
     chest. Schofield thrashes in the debris, trying to free
     himself. He can’t. It’s too tightly packed.

                       BLAKE
             Sco! Wake up! Wake up! Sco!

     Blake grabs at Schofield’s arm and with all his might
     wrenches him out of the dirt.

                       BLAKE
             Sco... Stand up! Stand up! Up! UP!

     Schofield is in shock - numb. Caked in the pale white
     earth.

     His heaves and retches fill the tiny space. His body
     shaking and contorting with shock.

                         BLAKE
             STAND UP!

     The timber is groaning all around them now. Blake looks up
     at it.

                       BLAKE
             The whole thing’s coming down.

     As Blake looks, the chalk dust swirls in the air, drawn
     towards the tunnel entrance, sucked out by the backdraft.

     Their way out.

     Blake stands, half-drags Schofield to his feet. Schofield
     can hardly see out of his dust-filled eyes. Blake pulls him
     over to the tunnel entrance.

                       BLAKE
             You keep hold of me!


13   INT. GERMAN TUNNEL - CONTINUOUS                               13
                                                           36.


Carved through the chalk bedrock. Seven feet high and
reinforced with timber, some of which have already split in
the blast. The tunnel slopes gently down, deeper into the
earth. White walls reflect Blake’s torch.

The earth around them groans, silt and dust piss from the
ceiling.

Schofield coughs and convulses, grasping on to Blake, towed
along in his wake.

The tunnel splits, one fork has been destroyed, Blake pulls
them forward the only way they can go.

                  BLAKE
        We need to keep moving. Come on!

                  SCHOFIELD
        I can’t see - I can’t see!

Blake stops suddenly.

                  BLAKE
        Stop! Stop!

He has kicked a bucket that sits on the lip of a mineshaft.

The bucket drops into the hole, pulleys spinning
ferociously.

                  BLAKE
        Stop. It’s a mineshaft.

Blake looks for a way round it. It has been blown by the
Germans.

                  BLAKE
        We’ll have to jump. Come on!

Blake jumps across it. Schofield is frozen.

                  BLAKE
        You’re going to have to jump! Just
        jump.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I can’t- I can’t see!

Blake wheels around and shines his light on Schofield.

Schofield’s eyes stream with tears and debris, he’s
paralyzed, blinded.
                                                                37.


     Between them is nothing but a gaping hole in the floor,
     fathomless blackness.

     The walls around them groan under the strain. The place is
     coming down.

                       BLAKE
             You need to trust me. Jump!

     Schofield tears in a breath then leaps forwards towards
     Blake.

     Schofield takes off, jumps across the hole and lands hard.

     His back foot slips down the side of the mineshaft, but
     Blake grabs him, and heaves him up.

     Blake pushes forward, Schofield clings to him.

                       BLAKE
             Don’t let go of me! Don’t let go!

     The sound of earth collapsing suddenly fills the tunnel.
     The dugout behind them has collapsed in.

     Ahead there is a fork in the tunnel. Blake spots something
     to his right - a blue haze.

     Daylight.

     He pulls Schofield towards it.

                       BLAKE
             Light! There’s light!

     They scramble forwards. Light begins to flood the passage
     way. They reach the end of the tunnel and stumble out into
     the light.


14   EXT. REAR GERMAN TRENCHES - CONTINUOUS                           14

     Blake scrambles down a small incline, scanning for enemy.

     They are in a large sunken ditch.

     Schofield stands, bent double, at the mouth of the tunnel,
     trying to catch his breath. Both of them are covered with
     chalk dust. They look like pale ghosts.

                       SCHOFIELD
                                                           38.


        Stop... stop. Just...just let me
        stand.

                  BLAKE
        Dirty bastards.

Schofield gathers himself and drops down beside Blake.

Blake pushes on, climbing up a small rise, rifle ready.

Schofield goes after him, shakily.

                  BLAKE
        Careful, they may have left other
        traps.

Blake crests the small berm and looks.

Curving away from him - a quarry. A huge desolate
amphitheatre.

The quarry is several storeys high. Holes and entrances are
carved all over it, like rabbit warrens.

Scattered around is the detritus of war. Several huge
German guns and some small artillery lie damaged and
abandoned.

Small mountains of brass - thousands of spent shell
casings.

                  BLAKE
        Jesus.

Blake sweeps his rifle around, searching for any threat.
This place is abandoned.

Schofield makes it to the top of the berm, and drops down
to the ground, trying to clean out his eyes.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Dust... so much dust in my eyes.

He empties the remaining water from his canteen onto his
face.

Blake approaches Schofield, hands him his canteen.
Schofield washes the chalk off of his face.

                  BLAKE
        Here. Have some of mine.
                                                         39.


Blake crouches beside him. He watches him, concerned.

                  BLAKE
        I wish I’d shot that rat now.

Schofield turns on him, sharp.

                  SCHOFIELD
        And I wish you’d picked some other
        bloody idiot.

                  BLAKE
        What?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Why in God’s name did you have to
        choose me?

Schofield checks his pockets - takes out small tobacco tin.

Checks inside it. His hands are shaking badly.

                  BLAKE
        I didn’t know what I was picking
        you for.

                  SCHOFIELD
        No, you didn’t. You never know.
        That’s your problem.

Blake is stung.

                  BLAKE
        Alright then, go back. Nothing’s
        stopping you. You can go all the
        way bloody home if you want.

At the mention of home Schofield turns on him sharply.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Don’t.

A beat. Schofield puts the tobacco tin back in his pocket.

                  BLAKE
             (calmer now)
        Look, I didn’t know what I was
        picking you for. I thought they
        were going to send us back up the
        line, or for food, or something. I
        thought it was going to be
        something easy, alright? I never
        thought it would be this.
                                                           40.


A beat.

                    BLAKE
          So do you want to go back?

Schofield looks at him, softening.

                    SCHOFIELD
          Just fire the fucking flare.

He loads and lifts the flare, and looks back towards the
British lines.

                    BLAKE
               (under his breath)
          Up yours, Lieutenant...

He fires it straight up. The light streaks through the sky.

He watches it drop.

Blake tosses the flare gun, lowers his hand to Schofield
and helps him up.

Schofield stands unsteadily. Blake studies his compass,
getting his bearing.

                    SCHOFIELD
          Do you know where we are?

                    BLAKE
          Ecoust is directly south east. If
          we keep that bearing, we should
          make it.

He looks in the direction Blake is facing - the land rolls
gently down, a trampled road leads out of the quarry, a
shattered copse of trees juts out of the earth. Charred and
black.

Schofield nods. Blake stows the compass. Raises his rifle.

                    BLAKE
          Come on then.

They begin to walk.

Blankets, ammunition, guns, bayonets, shells. All have been
abandoned in this place. They pass the remains of artillery
- the gun barrels have been blown out.

                    BLAKE
                                                        41.


        Look at that. They destroyed their
        own guns...

                  SCHOFIELD
        They destroyed their own trenches
        too.

                  BLAKE
        What do you mean?

                  SCHOFIELD
        I think they wanted us to go that
        way. They wanted to bury us.

They walk.

A noise startles them both. They turn to the source, ready
to fire -

A large rat scuttles over A DEAD GERMAN. Blake kicks a rock
at it. It scatters.

                  BLAKE
        Bastard rats.

Blake looks across at Schofield. He is still shaking
slightly.

They walk, watchful. Eventually:

                  BLAKE
        Hey - did you hear that story about
        Wilko? How he lost his ear?

                  SCHOFIELD
        I’m not in the mood. Keep your eyes
        on the trees, top of the ridge.

Blake watches the top of the slope. They walk.

                  BLAKE
        Bet he told you it was shrapnel.

Beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        What was it then?

                  BLAKE
                                                             42.


             Well, you know his girl’s a
             hairdresser, right? And he was
             moaning about the lack of bathing
             facilities when he wrote to her -
             remember those rancid jakes at
             Arras?

     Schofield nods - they were disgusting.

                       BLAKE
             Anyway, she sends him over this
             ‘hair oil’. Smells sweet, like
             Golden Syrup. Wilko loves the
             smell, but he doesn’t want to cart
             it around in his pack, so-

     They continue into the-


15   EXT. SHATTERED COPSE - CONTINUOUS                             15

     They tread carefully over the battered earth. It’s littered
     with casings and flecks of metal.

                       BLAKE
             He slathers it all over his barnet,
             goes to sleep and in the middle of
             the night he wakes up, and a rat is
             sitting on his shoulder licking the
             oil off of his head!

     Schofield begins to laugh, despite himself.

                       BLAKE
             Wilko panics and he jumps up and
             when he does - the rat bites clean
             through his fucking ear and runs
             off with it!

     They are both laughing quietly.

                       BLAKE
             Oh, he made a hell of a fuss,
             yelling, screaming.

     The ground sweeps gently downward out of the burnt copse.

     Living things return to the world in small patches.

                       BLAKE
                                                          43.


        Best of it was he put so much
        bloody oil on himself that he
        couldn’t wash it off! He was like a
        magnet. Rats left us alone, but
        they couldn’t get enough of him.
        Poor bastard.

They emerge from the copse, scanning the surroundings. They
appear to be alone.

Above, far in the distance, the same two British planes
seem to hover in the sky, arcing back towards British
lines.

Schofield looks up at them.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Heading back home.
             (beat)
        I wonder what they saw...

Schofield pulls his eyes away from the planes. The two men
briefly scan the land around them.

                  BLAKE
        Watch the ridge lines.

They move off again. Blake’s eyes stick to the left,
Schofield’s scan the right. After a beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Well that’s your medal sorted then.

                  BLAKE
        What do you mean?

They continue walking.

                  SCHOFIELD
        “Lance Corporal Blake showed
        unusual valour in rescuing a
        comrade from certain death” blah,
        blah, blah.

                  BLAKE
        You reckon?

                    SCHOFIELD
        I do.

Blake is pleased.

                    BLAKE
                                                44.


          Well, that’d be nice. Since you
          lost yours.

A beat.

                    SCHOFIELD
          I didn’t lose mine.

Schofield keeps walking.

                    BLAKE
          What happened to it, then?

                    SCHOFIELD
          Why do you care?

                    BLAKE
          Why do you not?

Beat.

                    SCHOFIELD
          I swapped it with a French captain.

                    BLAKE
          Swapped it? For what?

                    SCHOFIELD
          Bottle of wine.

                    BLAKE
          What did you do that for?

                    SCHOFIELD
          I was thirsty.

                    BLAKE
          What a waste.
               (beat)
          You should have taken it home with
          you, you should have given it to
          your family.

Schofield doesn’t respond.

                    BLAKE
          Men have died for that.

No response.

                   BLAKE
                                                               45.


             If I got a medal, I’d take it back
             home, why didn’t you just take it
             home-

                       SCHOFIELD
             Look it’s just a bit of bloody tin!
             It doesn’t make you special, it
             doesn’t make any difference to
             anyone.

                       BLAKE
             Yes it does.

     Beat.

                       BLAKE
             And it’s not just a bit of tin.
                  (then)
             It’s got a ribbon on it.

     Schofield laughs, exasperated.

     Then he turns to Blake, looks at him.

                       SCHOFIELD
             I hated going home. I hated it.
             When I knew I couldn’t stay. When I
             knew I had to leave them, and they
             might never see me-

     He chokes up. Fights with himself for a moment. Then he
     turns and walks ahead.

     Blake watches him, feeling guilty. Then he follows.

     Up ahead, Schofield is approaching the remains of a walled
     orchard. He stops at the gate.


16   EXT. WALLED ORCHARD - CONTINUOUS                                16

     The near wall has partially collapsed in a mound of rubble.

     Beyond it cherry trees litter the ground. All have been cut
     down, felled in the wanton destruction of the German
     retreat.

     Pale blossoms swim all around, ruffled by the wind.

     Schofield looks at it all.

                       SCHOFIELD
                  (to himself)
                                                        46.


        Jesus. They chopped them all down.

Blake has followed him, a little guiltily. Wanting to
apologise, but unsure how. He takes in the orchard.

                    BLAKE
        Cherries.

Blake looks at one of the trees. He reaches down, picks a
blossom, holds it up.

                    BLAKE
        Lamberts.

They begin to walk through the felled trees.

                  BLAKE
        They might be Dukes, hard to tell
        when they aren’t in fruit.

                  SCHOFIELD
        What’s the difference?

Blake is a little wry, sensing Schofield softening.

                  BLAKE
        Well people think there’s one type,
        but there’s lots of them -
        Cuthberts, Queen Annes,
        Montmorencys. Sweet ones, sour
        ones...

                  SCHOFIELD
        Why on earth would you know this?

                  BLAKE
        Mum’s got an orchard, back home.
        Only a few trees. This time of year
        it looks like it’s been snowing,
        blossom everywhere. And then in
        May, we have to pick them. Me and
        Joe. Takes the whole day.

A pang of homesickness creeps into Blake as he and
Schofield clamber over a downed tree. They are now
alongside each other.

Schofield registers this.

                  SCHOFIELD
        So, these ones all gonners?

                    BLAKE
                                                           47.


        Oh no, they’ll grow again when the
        stones rot. You’ll end up with more
        trees than before.

A large wall borders the lower end of the orchard, still
intact. Schofield arrives at the gate.

Ahead of them, visible through the gate is a small valley.
In the valley lie the remains of a French farmhouse,
abandoned.

It is utterly derelict now - the roof is just a skeleton of
beams. Next to it is a clapboard barn, ragged with shell
holes.

Schofield and Blake peer through the gate at the small
collection of buildings below. Everything is still.

Schofield looks anxiously at the farmhouse.

                  BLAKE
        It looks abandoned.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Let’s hope so.

                  BLAKE
        We have to make sure.

Schofield leads the way, he moves through the gate
cautiously, rifle raised. Blake follows.

They slip down the hill. They are in an old pigsty,
surrounded by a broken fence, which runs down to the murky
water of a pond.

Carefully, as he walks, Schofield scans the buildings
ahead.

The wind rustles the long grass. An ominous atmosphere
pervades this place.

They approach the farmhouse.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (sotto)
        I’ll take front, you take back.

They split. Blake disappears round the back, Schofield
moves towards the front door.

A DEAD DOG lies by the path.
                                                                48.


     Schofield looks at it for a beat. His hands tighten on his
     rifle, as he braces himself for what might be inside.

     Schofield quickly walks up the small front path, through
     the open door.


17   INT. FRENCH FARMHOUSE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS                     17

     He is still for a moment on the threshold, breath held,
     listening for any sounds of life in the house.

     The silence burns.

     Schofield enters. The only sounds now are the floor boards
     creaking under his boots.

     This place has been trashed by the soldiers who were here.

     Schofield turns right into -


18   INT. FRENCH FARMHOUSE - BEDROOM - CONTINUOUS                     18

     Schofield moves through the bedroom. Empty. He moves back
     into-


19   INT. FRENCH FARMHOUSE - HALLWAY - CONTINUOUS                     19

     Schofield crosses the hallway. He spots Blake through the
     window.

                          BLAKE
             Anything?

                          SCHOFIELD
             Nothing.

     Schofield moves forward towards the kitchen. Something
     catches his eye.

     A child’s doll sits on the floor. Cigarette burns on its
     eyes.

     Schofield looks at it for a beat. Then moves into the
     kitchen.


20   INT. FRENCH FARMHOUSE - KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS                     20

     Low, dusty light streaks in from the smashed windows.
                                                                49.


     Schofield takes in the room. Blake enters through the back
     door.

                       BLAKE
             Did you find any food?

                       SCHOFIELD
             No.
                  (beat)
             I don’t like this place.

     He moves out through the back door-


21   EXT. REAR FRENCH FARMHOUSE - CONTINUOUS                          21

     Schofield moves across the barren yard to a dilapidated
     barn.


22   INT. BARN - CONTINUOUS                                           22

     Remnants and debris are scattered around.

     The low sounds of a cow echo from the fields beyond.

     Schofield looks - a single COW stands in the field. Two or
     three other dead cows lie near it.

     Schofield turns, scanning the barn floor. He peers into a
     milk urn, it’s empty.

     Close by there is a bucket, lid half on.

     He tips the lid off with his foot -

     Milk.

     He kneels and smells it, then lowers in a hand and lifts
     some to his mouth. It’s been months since he tasted
     anything as good.

     Behind him, Blake exits the farmhouse.

                       BLAKE
             Map says we get over that ridge and
             it’s a straight shot to Ecoust.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Good.
                                                                50.


     He takes out his empty canteen and pours milk into it,
     fills it to the brim.

     The huge door at back of the barn is open to the fields.

     The drone of plane engines through the doorway catches
     Schofield’s attention.

     Schofield spots planes through the barn door. He moves
     towards them to get a better look. Entranced.

     He moves outside to watch.


23   EXT. REAR FRENCH FARMHOUSE - CONTINUOUS                          23

     Schofield wanders out away from the barn. He looks up into
     the grey sky.

     Three planes - a dogfight. Tiny at this distance, insect-
     like.

     Schofield’s eyes follow them keenly: Two British fighters
     against one German.

     The violence is so far removed from him that it looks
     balletic. Beautiful even. He moves towards them to get a
     better look.

     The planes twist and circle in the air, engines droning and
     whining as the planes dip and rise.

                       BLAKE (O.S.)
             Is that our friends again?

                       SCHOFIELD
             Looks like it. Dogfight.

                       BLAKE
             Who’s winning?

                       SCHOFIELD
             Us, I think. Two on one.

     The two of them stand looking up at the majesty of it.

     Then, in the distance, the German plane begins to trail
     black smoke.

     The hum of the German engine fails. The two British planes
     follow it, hammering away on their guns until it is clear
     that there is no hope for the German.
                                                                51.


                       BLAKE
             They got him...

     The German plane coasts silently towards the earth.

     Blake and Schofield watch as it gets closer and closer.

     Hypnotised.

     From the bend of wings you can tell the PILOT is trying to
     glide. Trying and failing.

     The plane drops like a leaf, catching updrafts only to
     suddenly dip again - aiming for the fields some distance
     ahead of them.

     The plane dips. Wobbles. Fighting to stay up. It banks
     left, and drops below the horizon.

     Schofield walks forwards to have a better look. Then
     suddenly, the plane reappears over the horizon, flying very
     low. It is heading straight at them.

     Schofield realises they are in the path of the plane. He
     begins backing away, retreating towards the house.

     The plane is much closer now, behind them as they run. They
     can’t make it back to the house.

     Schofield and Blake throw themselves down on the ground,
     pressing themselves into the earth as the plane screams in
     their direction, smashing into the barn directly behind
     them.

     Black smoke pours from the plane and the shattered skeleton
     of the barn.

     The fire is quick, licking along the old wood.


24   INT. BARN - CONTINUOUS                                           24

     Smoke billows from the plane. Inside it someone is
     screaming.

     Blake moves first, he runs into the barn, Schofield tailing
     him.

     Tongues of fire whip out from the engine, the pilot is
     inside. Burning.
                                                                52.


     Flames lick at his mangled legs and torso, his gloved hands
     cover his face.

     Blake grabs at the man, the back of his hand touches the
     yoke as he tries to free the pilot - he cries out as the
     metal sears his skin.

     Schofield tears open the pilot’s strap and together they
     wrench him free, dragging him from the remains of the
     cockpit, and pulling his body through the smoke.

     The Pilot’s legs are on fire.

                       PILOT
             Meine beine! Meine beine! Hilf mir!
             Hilf mir!

                       PILOT
             My legs! My legs! Help me! Help me!


25   EXT. REAR FRENCH FARMHOUSE - CONTINUOUS                          25

     Schofield and Blake drag the pilot by his shoulders - the
     true extent of his injuries laid bare in the daylight.

     The flames have done bad damage. His trousers have been
     partially burnt off, blood streaks down his legs.

     The Pilot’s blue eyes dart at them, in agony. He shivers
     violently with shock, his lips form words, his voice is a
     harsh whisper.

     (N.B. None of the German dialogue will be subtitled. We
     should understand only what Blake and Schofield
     understand.)

                       PILOT
             Lazarett, Kamerad. Bitte. Bitte.
             Wasser. Water.

                       PILOT
             Military hospital, comrade. Please.
             Please. Water. Water.

     They look down at the Pilot, shocked, unsure of what to do.

     Schofield turns to Blake.

                       SCHOFIELD
                  (sotto to Blake)
             We should put him out of his
             misery.
                                                           53.


Schofield and Blake share a look.

                  BLAKE
        No. Get him some water. He needs
        water.

Blake kneels beside the pilot, gently cradles his head on
his knees. The pilot struggles, terrified and in pain.

Schofield moves to the water pump, his back to Blake and
the Pilot.

                  BLAKE (O.S.)
        It’s alright, you’re alright. Stay
        still. Stay still...

                  PILOT
        Bitte töte mich nicht. Ich möchte
        leben.

                  PILOT
        Please help me, I don’t want to
        die.

Schofield works the pump, the levers screeching as the
mechanism creaks back to life.

Creak- creak-

Orange water cascades out, slapping into the metal trough.

Schofield keeps cranking the squeaking handle, it almost
drowns out the voices behind him.

Creak- creak-

Schofield collects the water in his helmet.

Creak- creak-

Then suddenly - shouting.

From behind him, piercing through the other sounds.

                  BLAKE
        Stop...Stop!

Schofield turns, starts forward.

Blake screams in agony. Schofield moves towards him,
confusion on his face, until he sees-
                                                           54.


A bloody knife in the pilot’s hand, pulled out of Blake’s
abdomen.

                  SCHOFIELD
        No, no, no!

Schofield grabs his rifle-

He fires two shots into the pilot, killing him outright.

Blake is looking down at his own bloody hands.

                  BLAKE
        Bastard, bloody bastard.

Blake gets to his feet, breathing heavy. Clutching his
abdomen, he staggers away from the pilot’s body.

                  BLAKE
        Oh, God no. Oh, God no.

Schofield watches him, scared.

Blake goes for his dressings, he clumsily pulls them out of
his pocket, they unspool in his shaking hands.

Blood is seeping through Blake’s tunic. He drops to his
knees. He looks down at his own blood and sobs.

                  BLAKE
        Jesus. Jesus, no.

Schofield moves forward, grabs the dressing, just as Blake
drops down to the ground.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We have to stop the bleeding.

Schofield wads the dressing, he moves Blake’s hand and
pushes the white bandage hard against Blake’s tunic, trying
to stem the blood.

Blake shouts in pain.

                  BLAKE
        Stop it. Stop it!

Schofield tries to calm him.

                  SCHOFIELD
        It’s alright, it’s going to be
        alright. We’re going to stand up.
                                                           55.


Schofield wraps his hands around Blake’s webbing.

                    BLAKE
        Yes. Yes.

Blake sets his feet. Schofield wrenches him up. Blake
screams in agony.

                  BLAKE
        No! I can’t. I can’t.

They drop back down.

Blake is pale, blood is pumping out of him, his lips are
already grey.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We have to get to an Aid Post.

                    BLAKE
        I can’t.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I’ll carry you. It isn’t very far.

                  BLAKE
        Just bring a doctor here.

Schofield looks around for help, there isn’t any. They are
alone.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We can’t, we have to go together-

Schofield looks at Blake, desperation in his eyes.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We’re going to get up. We’re going
        to get up.

Schofield moves behind Blake, grabs him under his arms. He
lifts Blake, but Blake cannot support his own weight, his
legs buckle.

                  BLAKE
        Stop, please! Stop!

Schofield holds him up. Begins to drag him.

Schofield keeps trying to drag Blake. The more Blake
struggles the more blood pisses out of his wound.
                                                        56.


Blake is suddenly wild, he screams like an animal, flailing
savagely, clawing at Schofield’s chest and neck, spitting
blood, struggling against him.

                    BLAKE
          Put me down! Put me down, you
          bastard, please! Put me down!

They fall backwards.

Schofield moves to face Blake.

Blake’s whole face is colourless now.

Schofield looks down. His eyes land on Blake’s dressing. It
is scarlet now, sopping wet with blood. He swaps it for a
fresh dressing. Panic swarms him.

                    SCHOFIELD
          You have to try to keep moving.

Blake is weakening.

                    BLAKE
          Let’s just sit... let me sit.

                    SCHOFIELD
          We can’t. We have to find the 2nd.
          Remember? Your brother. We have to
          go now...

Schofield stares down at Blake, he’s not lucid anymore. His
eyes are already glazing.

                    BLAKE
          You can start on without me. I’ll
          catch up.

                    SCHOFIELD
          You can’t stay here. We have to
          move, alright? We have to move.

A beat.

                    SCHOFIELD
          Come on. Come on. That’s it. Come
          on, come on...

Schofield wraps one arm around Blake’s back, the other
round his legs, he gets to his feet and with all his might
he heaves Blake upward. Blake howls in pain.

Schofield screams with the effort, giving it all he’s got.
                                                         57.


But Blake is a dead weight. He can’t lift him.

They drop. Schofield looks at him, desperate.

                    SCHOFIELD
          Your brother. We have to find your
          brother.

Blake’s breathing is coming in short bursts.

                    BLAKE
          You’ll recognise him. Looks like
          me...a bit older.

Schofield holds Blake’s head up. He looks impotently around
for help.

Behind them the barn is crumbling in on itself, scarlet
embers drift across the sky, carried on the breeze. Blake
stares up at them, confused.

                    BLAKE
          What are they? Are we being
          shelled?

                    SCHOFIELD
          They’re embers, the barn is on
          fire.

Blake looks bewildered. Then some pain creeps into his
eyes, some awful knowledge.

                    BLAKE
          I’ve been hit... What was it?

Schofield looks down at him, unsure how to answer.

                    SCHOFIELD
          You were stabbed.

Blake looks surprised. His hand feels dumbly for his wound.

It lands on Schofield’s - he’s holding down the tunic,
stemming what blood he can.

There is blood on Blake’s lips. His breathing is becoming
laboured.

                    BLAKE
          Am I dying?

A beat.
                                                           58.


                  SCHOFIELD
        Yes, I think you are.

An “Oh” forms on Blake’s lips. Profound sadness follows the
shock.

Blake reaches up slowly, and taps his tunic pocket,
Schofield guesses his meaning - goes to the pocket, pulls
out a wallet.

                    SCHOFIELD
        This?

                    BLAKE
        Inside...

Schofield opens the cover, inside are a bunch of letters,
and a photograph - Blake, his mother, and his brother Joe.

Schofield holds it up for Blake to see: yes, that’s what I
want.

Schofield puts the photograph in Blake’s hand, he presses
it to his breast.

                  BLAKE
        Will you write to my mum for me?

                    SCHOFIELD
        I will.

                  BLAKE
        Tell her I wasn’t scared.

Schofield nods.

A long beat. Schofield lets go of the pressure on Blake’s
wound. He holds his hand.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Anything else?

Blake is slipping away, tears well and roll down his
cheeks.

                  BLAKE
        I love them...I wish that... I
        wish...

It’s half strangled by sadness. A long beat. Schofield
holds him. Death is close, stiffening Blake’s body, it’s
already in his eyes.
                                                        59.


                  BLAKE
        Talk to me.

Schofield looks at Blake, he has no idea what to say.

                  BLAKE
        Tell me you know the way.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I know the way. I’m going to head
        south east until I hit Ecoust.

Blake listens.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I’ll pass through the town and out
        to the east, all the way to
        Croisilles Wood.

                  BLAKE
             (faint)
        It’ll be dark by then.

                  SCHOFIELD
        That won’t bother me... I’ll find
        the 2nd, I’ll give them the
        message, and then I’ll find your
        brother. Just like you, a little
        older...

He stops. Blake is no longer breathing.

Without the lines of worry or agony on his face Blake looks
very young.

Schofield is still for a moment, cradling the head of
Blake.

A long beat. Behind Schofield the barn is collapsing in on
itself.

The smoke has risen several stories into the sky.

Schofield looks at Blake. Desperate.

Then, he snaps out of it. With sudden determination, he
rummages through the pockets of Blake’s tunic - takes the
message for the 2nd, blood from his hands smudges on the
envelope.

He stows it safely in his top pocket. He pulls out the map
from Blake’s tunic. It is saturated in blood. Illegible.
                                                           60.


Schofield throws it away.

He takes Blake’s rings from his lifeless hands, then opens
his tunic and goes for Blake’s identity disc, tearing it
off of the twine.

He pries the photograph from Blake’s dead hand, looks at
it, then leaves it face down over his heart, inside his
tunic.

Schofield looks around them, beside the pond is a patch of
long grass.

Schofield heaves Blake’s torso up - the endeavour entirely
different now Blake is dead.

Nothing is heavier than the dead body of someone you loved.

                  PRIVATE PARRY (O.S.)
        You alright, mate?

Schofield looks up, shocked to see TWO BRITISH PRIVATES -
PARRY and ATKINS.

                  PRIVATE ATKINS
        It’s alright, it’s okay.

                  PRIVATE PARRY
        Come on, help him.

Parry and Atkins move forward and take Blake’s legs.
Together the three of them move Blake to the long grass. As
they move him:

                  PRIVATE ATKINS
        Jesus, what happened to him?

Schofield doesn’t answer.

                  PRIVATE PARRY
        Was it the plane? We saw the smoke.

Schofield nods.

                    SCHOFIELD
               (sotto)
        Yes.

They lower Blake down. Schofield kneels by his head. Lost.

A gentle voice, off camera.
                                                           61.


                    CAPTAIN SMITH (O.S.)
          Go fetch his things.

                      PRIVATE PARRY
          Sir.

                      PRIVATE ATKINS
          Yes, Sir.

Parry and Atkins go to collect Schofield’s helmet and
rifle.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
               (quietly)
          A friend?

Schofield nods. He kneels beside Blake’s body. Impotent.

A beat.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
          What are you doing here?

                    SCHOFIELD
          I have an urgent message for the
          2nd Devons. Orders to stop tomorrow
          morning’s attack.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
          Where are they stationed?

                    SCHOFIELD
          Just beyond Ecoust.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
          Come with me.

Smith heads back towards the farmhouse. Schofield doesn’t
move. He can’t look away from Blake.

Smith stops, turns back.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
          Come with me, Corporal. That’s an
          order.

Schofield looks up at him.

                    CAPTAIN SMITH
          We’re passing through Ecoust. We
          can take you some of the way.
                                                                62.


                        SCHOFIELD
             Sir.

     Using the grass, he wipes Blake’s blood from off his hands.

     He stands, drags his eyes away from Blake’s body and then
     moves after Smith.

     He collects his rifle and helmet from Parry then follows
     Smith through the farmhouse and back out into-


26   EXT. COUNTRY ROAD - CONTINUOUS                                   26

     A small convoy of four trucks idle on the road, all caked
     in mud and battered from their journey. Soldiers mill,
     smoking, pissing, stretching their legs.

     At the head of the small convoy is an Officer’s car.
     Exhaust fumes swirl in the still air.

                       COLONEL COLLINS (O.S.)
             Oh, come on Sergeant. Put more men
             at the base. At the trunk! It’ll be
             heavier there...

     The trucks are filled to the brim with SOLDIERS - a mixture
     of seasoned fighters and fresh recruits. All are covered in
     the mud of No Man’s Land.

                       CAPTAIN SMITH
             Might be a tight squeeze.

     They move towards the Officer’s car. Mud hardens on the
     undercarriage and the wheel arches.

                       COLONEL COLLINS
             No. You’re not going to be able to
             just lift it. Pivot the front end
             to the left-

     At the front of the convoy a large tree trunk blocks the
     road, like the cherry blossoms, felled on purpose, trunk
     neatly chopped. Several PRIVATES and an NCO are gathered
     around trying to lift it.

     A Colonel, COLLINS (corpulent, sweating) barks orders from
     the front seat of the car.

     Smith and Schofield approach the car.

                         COLONEL COLLINS
                    (to the driver)
                                                           63.


        Jesus. They don’t make things easy
        do they. They could at least have
        retreated with a bit of grace.
        Bastards.

                   CAPTAIN SMITH
        Sir-

Collins turns and looks down on Smith and Schofield, his
face registering confusion.

                  COLONEL COLLINS
             (registering Schofield)
        You’re not one of mine.

                   SCHOFIELD
        No, Sir.

Collins looks at Smith for explanation.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        He’s got an urgent message to
        deliver to the 2nd Devons, Sir.

Collins’ attention is drawn back to the tree, the men have
managed to shift it a few feet to the left.

                  COLONEL COLLINS
             (To the driver)
        Can you get past it?

                   SERGEANT HARROP (O.S.)
        No, Sir.

                  COLONEL COLLINS
        Oh, for God’s sake.
             (Loudly, to the men)
        Just move it!

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        There’s room in the casuals truck,
        sir. He has orders-

                  COLONEL COLLINS
        Yes, yes, alright.
             (to Harrop)
        Come on now. You can get through
        there sideways.

The car begins to roll forward.

Smith moves off, as the Colonel’s car begins to manoeuvre
its way around the felled tree.
                                                        64.


Smith and Schofield walk past the row of trucks, all packed
with soldiers. Schofield takes it in.

                  SCHOFIELD
        How did you get here, Sir?

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Crossed No Man’s Land just outside
        Bapaume. Took us the whole night.
        Bumped into a couple of Hun
        stragglers on the way who made a
        nuisance of themselves.

                  SCHOFIELD
        You going up to the new line?

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Attempting to. The Newfoundlands
        have pushed forwards and requested
        reinforcements.

They approach the last truck. Smith looks at him.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        I’m sorry about your friend.

Schofield nods.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        May I tell you something that you
        probably already know?

They stop. Schofield looks to him.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        It doesn’t do to dwell on it.

                   SCHOFIELD
        No, Sir.

They have reached the rear of the fourth and final truck.
TWO or THREE PRIVATES mill by the rear step, smoking. They
stand to attention when the see the Captain.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
             (to Schofield)
        Hop on.

Smith speaks to the soldiers.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Make some space there... Come on,
        in you get!
                                                                65.


     A bit of grumbling as the soldiers try to make space for
     him.

     A couple of the men help him up and into-


27   INT. ARMY TRUCK - CONTINUOUS                                     27

     Twenty men, an amalgamation of companies - some SCOTS, some
     SIKHS, are crammed in here. Schofield makes space for
     himself on the fringe. The men don’t look at Schofield,
     don’t much care about the hitch-hiker.

     They are quiet for a beat, until Smith’s footsteps die away
     and the sound of the engine rumbles.

     Schofield sits silently.

                       PRIVATE COOKE
             Alright. Here we go again boys.

                       PRIVATE ROSSI
             Welcome aboard the night bus to
             fuck-knows-where.

                       PRIVATE COOKE
             Is that a dead dog?

     No one answers him.

     Schofield looks out of the back, watching the road and the
     farmhouse disappear behind him.

                       PRIVATE BUTLER
                  (To Rossi)
             You got a fag?

     Rossi hands one over.

                       PRIVATE ROSSI
             Yeah, there you go.

     They light their cigarettes.

                       PRIVATE COOKE
                  (sotto)
             Butler... Oy. Carry on with that
             story.

                       PRIVATE BUTLER
                  (sotto)
                                                           66.


        Oh yeah, Right. So. When we get off
        the train, Beaufoy comes up to us
        and he’s having a right go -
             (He attempts a posh
             accent, complete with
             lisp)
        “Lance Corporal! Whatever one does,
        one never lets standards slip!”
        Then Scott comes out of the
        latrine, he wipes his hand on the
        back of Beaufoy’s jacket! Shit all
        down his back.

Laughter.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Was that meant to be Captain
        Beaufoy?

                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        Oh, piss off you. You can’t do any
        better.

Schofield pulls his bloody tunic tight around himself,
watches. He almost disappears into the noise of the men.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
             (Impersonating the lisp)
        “MEN! Your rifle stocks are an
        embarrassment to the entire
        expeditionary force.”

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        You’re both bloody awful.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        You don’t know, you barely even
        speak the bloody language.

                  PRIVATE MALKY
        He’s got a better grasp of it than
        you, Cooke.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Go on then Jondalar, give it a go,
        let’s see it!

The men are getting rowdier. We watch Schofield as they
grate on his quiet grief.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Let’s hear it then Jonny!
                                                          67.


The men noisily encourage him.

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
             (Much the best
             impersonation - perfect
             lisp, gestures)
        “Rossi! Never in my two hundred
        years as a soldier have I seen such
        a sorry excuse for a latrine pit-”

The men are all laughing, enjoying it.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Shite. That is total shit!

Cooke gets shouted down by the men. Someone chucks a
canteen at Cooke, misses.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Oy! You could have taken my teeth
        out with that.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        You could do with a new set.

Schofield is still. The laughter settles.

After a beat Schofield checks his wristwatch. BUTLER sees
it.

                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        You got somewhere you need to be?

The men all look at him.

Suddenly, the truck lurches violently. Schofield bumps into
a man near him. The engine groans under them. The sounds of
tyres spinning.

                    PRIVATE ROSSI
        Oh, no...

A spatter of mud is thrown up. The engine revs, but the
truck sinks deeper.

Schofield stands, leans out of the canvas.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Arsehole needs driving lessons.

A few men groan in agreement.
                                                                68.


     Schofield jumps out into-


28   EXT. ROADSIDE DITCH - CONTINUOUS                                 28

     Schofield looks at the stuck wheel. The truck has driven
     off the road trying to get round another fallen tree. Its
     rear wheel is sinking into a muddy ditch.

     Ahead, the convoy is stopped, waiting on them.

     Schofield speaks to one of the Privates, Cooke, as he
     stares at the wheel.

                       SCHOFIELD
             He should reverse.

                        PRIVATE COOKE
             Yeah.

     Cooke does nothing. Schofield moves to the Driver’s side of
     the truck.

                       SCHOFIELD
                  (Loudly, to the driver)
             Try it in reverse. REVERSE.

     A crunch of gears as the driver puts it in reverse. The
     engine revs again. Schofield bends down to look. The wheel
     is still spinning. The truck is slipping deeper.

                       SCHOFIELD
             No. Stop. STOP!

     After a beat the sound of revving dies out and the engine
     idles.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Everyone needs to get out.

     Some of the men climb to their feet and drop out. Others
     don’t move.

                        SCHOFIELD
             All out!

     The men aren’t moving fast enough.

                        SCHOFIELD
             Come on!

                        PRIVATE BUTLER
                                                           69.


        Alright, alright. Keep your bloody
        hair on.

Begrudgingly a few fall in behind and beside the truck and
ready themselves.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Right. One. Two. Three.

The tyre spins on the spot, mud flies up. Schofield and the
men push. Heaving together-

The truck isn’t moving.

But Schofield won’t stop, he pushes and pushes, groaning
under the effort. Desperation etched all over his face.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        We need to get some wood, put it
        under the wheels.

The other men drop back away from the truck frame.

Schofield doesn’t.

                  SCHOFIELD
        No! We haven’t got the time!

He puts everything he has into shifting the truck.

                  SCHOFIELD
        We all need to push!

His whole body shakes with the effort.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Come on! COME ON!

He begins to yell. Pushing, screaming in desperation.

                  SCHOFIELD
        COME OOOON!!

The men look at him.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Please. I have to go now! Please.

The men see Schofield’s desperation. Recognise it.

They fall back in beside him.
                                                           70.


                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        Alight, come on lads! Come on.

Together the twenty of them push, all at once, all
stretched to the very limits of their strength.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Come on, boys!

                  SCHOFIELD
        One. Two. Three!

Schofield screams in desperation.

                  SCHOFIELD
        AAAAAAAHHHHH!

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Come on boys! One last push! Yes!
        One. Two. Three!

Suddenly, the truck moves, the wheel catches some grass and
WHOMPH-

It lurches forwards, out of the ditch. Schofield falls
forward into the mud.

He struggles to his knees, trying to get his emotions back
under control, struggling not to cry.

Jondalar lifts him to his feet.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Back in. Get back in. Go.

The other men are looking at him, they see his emotion.
They start to load back in.

Jondalar puts his hand on Schofield’s arm. A fleeting
moment of solace.

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        Are you alright?

Schofield nods.

TWO SOLDIERS stand on the rear step, helping to pull the
others up and in. As they do-

                  PRIVATE COOKE(O.S.)
                                                              71.


             Here, Driver, how about you try to
             keep it on the bloody road for a
             change!

                       DRIVER (O.S.)
             Oh, piss off.

     The men are almost all loaded in. Schofield brings up the
     rear.


29   INT. ARMY TRUCK - CONTINUOUS                                   29

     Schofield takes the arm of the soldier helping men up and
     is pulled inside.

     The convoy moves off. Rattling over the land.

     Around Schofield the men are quiet, their eyes on him.

     After a while-

                       SEPOY JONDALAR
             So, where are you going?

                       SCHOFIELD
             I have to get to the 2nd Devons.
             Just past Ecoust.

                         SEPOY JONDALAR
             Why?

                       SCHOFIELD
             They’re attacking at dawn. I have
             orders to stop them.

                         PRIVATE MALKY
             How come?

                       SCHOFIELD
             They’re walking into a trap.

                         PRIVATE COOKE
             How many?

                       SCHOFIELD
             Sixteen hundred.

     This stops them all.

                         PRIVATE COOKE
             Jesus.
                                                         72.


                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        Why did they send you on your own?

                  SCHOFIELD
        They didn’t. There were two of us.

A beat. The men understand what this means.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        So now it’s down to you.

                    SCHOFIELD
        Yes.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        You’ll never make it.

Beat. Schofield turns to Cooke. Looks at him.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Yes. I will.

Butler offers Schofield some of his whisky. He takes a
drink.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Thank you.

Now all the men are looking out the back, watching the
distance drop away.

The truck is sweeping past a small hamlet, or at least the
remains of one, houses have been reduced to skeletons, the
destruction is fresh, embers still smoulder. Anything of
value built on this land has been systematically destroyed.

Dead cattle lie in the fields.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Look at it. Fucking look at it...
        Three years fighting over this. We
        should have just let the bastards
        keep it. I mean, who machine guns
        cows?

                  PRIVATE MALKY
        Huns with extra bullets.

                    PRIVATE ROSSI
        Bastards.

While they talk, Schofield checks that the letter is still
in his pocket.
                                                        73.


He carefully puts it in his tobacco tin.

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        Clever. They know if they don’t
        shoot the cow, you will eat it.

Rossi nods: fair point.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Still bastards.

                  PRIVATE MALKY
        Yeah, it’s not even our bloody
        country.

Brakes creak as the truck slows a little. Schofield reacts.

                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        How long gone d’you reckon they
        are?

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        Why? Worried we’ll catch up with
        them?

                  PRIVATE BUTLER
        Yeah, right. Be a bloody miracle at
        this rate.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        They are probably right around the
        next corner.

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        Piss off, no they’re not.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        Why don’t they just bloody well
        give up? Eh? Don’t they want to go
        home?

                  PRIVATE ROSSI
        They hate their wives and
        mothers... and Germany must be a
        shit hole.

                  PRIVATE COOKE
        They’re retreating... they’re miles
        back. We’ve got them on the ropes
        at least.

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        No. We don’t.
                                                               74.


     The truck slows down. It is juddering, as if navigating
     cobbles.

     Schofield’s eyes dart to the back, worried.

     Suddenly the truck grinds to a halt. A few ready themselves
     to jump out.

                       PRIVATE BUTLER
             Oh, bollocks. What’s up now?

                       PRIVATE COOKE
             Not another bloody tree.

     The driver calls through the canvas.

                       DRIVER (O.S.)
             Bridge is down.

                       PRIVATE COOKE
                  (sarcastic - sotto)
             Oh. That’s a shame.

     Schofield looks out the back of the truck.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Looks like I’ll be getting out
             here. Good luck.

                       PRIVATE ROSSI
             Keep some of that luck for yourself
             pal. Think you’ll be needing it.

                       PRIVATE BUTLER
             Good luck, mate.

                       PRIVATE MALKY
             Good luck.

     Drops out onto-


30   EXT. CANAL SIDE - CONTINUOUS                                    30

     Schofield jumps down into a new landscape.

     The land is sliced through by a huge, straight, industrial
     canal. The sun is now below the horizon.

     The men from the truck watch him go.

                       PRIVATE COOKE
                                                           75.


        Don’t balls it up.

                  SEPOY JONDALAR
        I hope you get there.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Thank you.

Captain Smith approaches.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Next bridge is six miles. We’ll
        have to divert.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I can’t, Sir. I don’t have the
        time.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Of course.

Smith offers Schofield his hand. He takes it.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Best of luck.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Thank you, Sir.

Smith goes to leave, stops.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        Corporal. If you do manage to get
        to Colonel Mackenzie, make sure
        there are witnesses.

Beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        They are direct orders, Sir.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
        I know. But some men just want the
        fight.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Thank you, Sir.

Captain Smith calls out to the driver at the head of the
convoy.

                  CAPTAIN SMITH
                                                           76.


         Driver! Move off!

Schofield watches as the small convoy drives away. Fumes
swirl in its wake.

He turns his attention to the new obstacle - the remains of
a bridge, shattered and half blown - now little more than
twisted metal dropping into the water.

The town of Ecoust is a jagged silhouette, visible about
two hundred yards the other side of the canal. Smoke
drifts. The town is still on fire.

The canal is large and industrial - about 90 feet wide,
stone sides, once deep, wood and detritus float on the
surface of the water.

On the opposite bank are the remains of a lock house. Two
storeys. Windows blown in, roof half collapsed. Beyond
that, the remains of some small buildings, all abandoned,
and then the jagged remains of Ecoust.

Schofield surveys it. Looks around. All seems quiet. Eerie.

Schofield looks around for a way across. The blown bridge
is his best bet. Both sides of the metal bridge have
collapsed, and slant down into the dark water.

Schofield starts along the broken bridge, then climbs up
onto the slim metal balustrade and starts inching downwards
towards the waterline. It takes all his effort not to lose
his balance and fall into the water below.

Finally he reaches the base of the slope, and looks across
at the remaining half of the bridge. About eight feet of
water between him and the other side...

He prepares himself to jump across and-

CRACK-

A gunshot slaps the water just in front of him. Birds fly
up.

Instinctively, he leaps-

He lands heavily on the other side of the bridge. His foot
slips into the water, and he hauls himself up with his
hands.

He clings to the metal latticework, scrambling forward.

CRACK- another shot rings out, hitting the water behind.
                                                                77.


     CRACK- a bullet hits the metal near his hand. He quickly
     climbs across the torn carcass of the bridge towards the
     far bank.

     Another bullet rings out, as he drops down, throwing
     himself into-


31   EXT. CANAL - CONTINUOUS                                          31

     The cover of the far bank wall. He rips in breaths as he
     presses his body into the stone bank. He stays low, inching
     along the side until he can get a sense of where the shots
     are coming from.

     He looks. Now he can register the direction of the shots. A
     SHOOTER, in the lock house. On the upper floor. A single
     high window.

     Schofield slides along the bank until he hits a small
     stairwell set into the wall of the canal bank. Barely
     enough cover, but his only option.

     CRACK. Another bullet sings against the stone as he darts
     to the other side of the stairs.

     Schofield readies his rifle, his hands are ice, and
     injured, and slow to work. They shake violently as he tries
     to check and load the weapon.

     Panting, he tries to still his trembling body as he creeps
     up to the top of the stairs, he peers over the top step to
     line up his shot.

     CRACK- a bullet sings off the stone next to his head.

     He sucks in a deep breath and holds it. He exhales as he
     leans into the shadow of the wall, and readies his rifle...

     Schofield lifts his body above the wall, and fires once.

     CRACK.

     Quickly, the shooter fires back.

     Schofield aims again, CRACK.

     The shooting stops.

     Silence.
                                                               78.


     Schofield is still for a moment. Breathing heavy. Shaking
     from the cold and from adrenalin.

     He spins and fires another two shots through the window of
     the lock house.

     CRACK. CRACK. Wood splinters. He waits.

     Again, silence.

     He steadies himself and stands carefully, rifle ready, and
     quickly advances to the lock house. He pushes open the
     doors and moves inside.


32   INT. LOCK HOUSE - CONTINUOUS                                    32

     No movement on the ground floor.

     The staircase is ahead of him. His ears burn listening for
     any sounds, any hint of movement.

     He holds his breath, the wood creaks under him as he backs
     against the wall, rifle pointing to the top of the
     staircase.

     Staying low and against the wall he moves upwards. Parts of
     the upstairs come into view -

     He can now see the door to the upper room.

     Slowly, he moves along the short corridor. With his foot,
     Schofield pushes at the door. It swings open, agonisingly
     slowly, creaking on its hinges.

     Revealing-

     A GERMAN SOLDIER, slumped against the far wall, wounded -
     but with his gun raised.

     A split second to react, Schofield raises his rifle and

     BOOM-BOOM!

     Both guns go off at the same time.

     The German’s bullet hits Schofield on the helmet, ripping
     his neck and upper body backwards, almost lifting him off
     his feet.

     Schofield stumbles backwards and falls-
                                                                79.


     Down the stairs.

     BAM - he hits the stone at the foot of the stairs and...

     Black.


33   INT. LOCK HOUSE - NIGHT                                          33

     Still black.

     In the darkness the sound of a single drip.

     Out of the darkness, Schofield’s face.

     The drip comes from a hole in the ceiling, and falls on
     Schofield’s forehead. He opens his eyes.

     Schofield starts to move, gingerly. He lifts his hand with
     difficulty, runs it along the back of his head. Looks at it
     - slick with black blood.

     He sits up, begins to focus. His face and hair are wet. His
     legs are sprawled on the stairs above him. He looks around
     dumbly. Unsure of what is up and what is down.

     He looks at his watch - smashed in the fall. No idea what
     time it is.

     Panic begins to claw at him. He has somewhere to be. If
     only he could remember it.

     He looks around for his rifle. He spots it above him, at
     the top of the stairs. He crawls towards it.

     Reaches it.

     Suddenly, the room fills with light. Outside, a flare
     streaks across the sky. As the light swings across the
     room, Schofield now sees the German soldier lying dead,
     slumped against the wall.

     Schofield stands and gradually descends the staircase.


34   EXT. ECOUST - CANAL SIDE - CONTINUOUS                            34

     Darkness.

     Then, another flare hisses across the black sky, light
     bursts from it.
                                                           80.


It falls slowly to earth, the magnesium light blinding.

As the light falls the whole world undulates before him.
Not clear to him if he is awake or dreaming.

The falling flare is playing with reality; shapes and
shadows warp across the land.

There has been a rainstorm. The outlines of destroyed
buildings contract and expands ahead of him.

He begins to stagger forwards through Ecoust. Struggling to
pick his way through shifting spots of darkness, unable to
tell what is shadow and what is a ditch. The puddles
reflect the Verey light, glowing as it falls, stinging his
eyes.

CRACK - A gunshot. Somewhere in the darkness there is
another sniper.

A brief moment of confusion, as he looks around for the
source of the gunshot.

CRACK. Another gunshot. Distant shouts. Schofield begins to
run.

He runs at full pelt. As he does, the flare light dies. Now
he is careening through shapeless darkness.

We are running blind, with Schofield. The sound of his
footfalls, his breathing.

He crashes through a puddle, the noise draws shots. The
bullets buzz around him in the darkness. Then -

HISS - another flare bursts above him.

He flings himself down in the rubble.

Shots clip the ground around him. Schofield lies
motionless, breathing heavily, trying to disappear into the
rubble around him, waiting for the light to die.

He looks up, trying to memorize his next path as the light
moves the ground ahead of him. The light dies.

Schofield is up and clattering in darkness across cobbles.

Another flare goes up into the night sky, but this time
Schofield doesn’t stop. He keeps running.
                                                                81.


     It sweeps directly over him, he darts into the bombed out
     remains of a shop. As the light from the flare dies above
     him, he turns the corner into -


35   EXT. ALLEY WAY - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                             35

     Narrow, dark.

     He starts to move along the alley. Feeling safe in the
     blackness, heading towards the flickering light at the end
     of the alley -


36   EXT. MAIN STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                           36

     Schofield looks both ways. A broad main market street
     stretches away in both directions.

     All windows are smashed, buildings have been shelled and
     collapsed in on themselves. Some have vanished altogether.

     Schofield cautiously peers out along the wide street. To
     his left, at the far end of the street, is a Main Square,
     framed by a colonnade.

     Beyond, just out of sight, something large is burning.

     Schofield checks both ways, then begins to walk down the
     ruins of the empty street, towards the square. Wary.

     Large medieval colonnades flank the entrance to the square,
     some have crumbled. Schofield slips through them and into -


37   EXT. ECOUST MAIN SQUARE - CONTINUOUS                             37

     Schofield stops under the columns. The destruction here is
     staggering -

     Colonnades run around most of the square, massive sections
     of it are pitted with gaps. Whole buildings are gone, like
     missing teeth - blackness yawns in them. Entire storeys
     have fallen away, revealing empty rooms.

     At the centre of the square, the remains of a fountain.

     In the far corner of the square the Church is on fire. The
     firelight reflects off the wet cobblestones and puddles.

     Schofield stares at it. Awed.
                                                                82.


     Then he spots something-

     In front of the bright flames: A MAN’S SILHOUETTE.

     Schofield sees him. The Man stops, lowers his weapon.
     Starts to walk towards him.

     Schofield cannot make out if he is a German or British
     soldier and begins to move towards him.

     Suddenly the Man lifts his gun and starts to run, heading
     straight towards Schofield. It’s A GERMAN SOLDIER.

     Schofield responds quickly. He takes off running, heading
     through the colonnade. The Soldier raises hie rifles and
     fires after him.

     Schofield doesn’t stop, heading out of the square and into
     -


38   EXT. SIDE STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                           38

     He can hear the shouts of the Soldier coming after him.

     Schofield runs full tilt. He turns a corner. Ahead, to his
     left, at about knee height, is a low cellar window.

     He heads towards it, grabs at it. It’s locked.

     He can hear the footsteps of the soldier getting closer.

     Beside the window is a coal chute. In a flash, Schofield is
     on his hands and knees through the dark opening, scrambling
     into -


39   INT. COAL CELLAR - CONTINUOUS                                    39

     Pitch black while his eyes adjust.

     He clutches his rifle, steps back into the shadows. His
     breath saws in and out, he listens to the slap of running
     footsteps getting closer.

     Schofield slides down into the darkness as a pair of German
     boots run by the low window.

     He stays crouched in the darkness for a time, listening to
     the footsteps receding. His eyes finally leave the window
     and look around him.
                                                        83.


He is in a low-ceilinged coal cellar. Sections of the roof
above have collapsed, letting in drips of rain and some
faint light. The room is empty. Then something catches his
eye.

At the far end of the room, a small doorway. Heavy fabric
has been hung across it. His eyes catch the flicker of
flame escaping through material.

Schofield readies his rifle. He points it at the curtain,
ready to fire, gun cocked-

Carefully he advances into the small room. Pushes the
fabric aside with his rifle.

In the centre of the room a furnace, presumably used to
heat the house. A small makeshift fire has been lit in it.
Around the fire a couple of blankets, some firewood, empty
cans, crusts of stale bread.

As Schofield’s eyes adjust to the light, he sees movement
in the shadows. Instinctively, he lifts his rifle.

There is a woman crouched in the corner. LAURI, late teens,
frail and hollow-eyed.

Her eyes fill with fear when she sees Schofield enter her
hiding place. She doesn’t move to flee - there is nowhere
to go.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles; pleading)
        Il ny rien ici. Nous n'avons rien
        pour vous. S'il vous plaît.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        There is nothing here. We have
        nothing for you. Please.

Schofield sets his rifle down, holds his hands up, as if to
say: I am not a threat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Anglais. Not German. Friend... I’m
        a friend.

She calms a little. He looks around.

                  SCHOFIELD
        This place, this town. Ecoust?
        C'est Ecoust?
                                                        84.


Lauri nods.

                    LAURI
               (subtitles)
        Oui.

Schofield looks relieved.

He suddenly begins to feel the pain in his head. He sways a
little.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Ou sont les autres?

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Where are the others?

She looks at him.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Others? No. Just me.

She looks. He gestures.

                    SCHOFIELD
        Only. Me.

She understands. A beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I need to be somewhere... I need to
        find a wood to the South East?

Lauri looks at him blankly.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Trees... les arbres?

Schofield searches his woozy head.

                    SCHOFIELD
        Croiset?

                  LAURI
        Croisilles?

Schofield nods.

                    SCHOFIELD
        Yes.
                                                         85.


Lauri points out the direction.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        La rivière-

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        The river-

                  SCHOFIELD
        River?

                  LAURI
        River. It go there. Trees.
        Croisilles.

A little wave of relief. He tenderly touches his bleeding
head with his hand, winces with the pain, reels with
nausea.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Assiez-toi.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Sit down.

She motions for Schofield to sit, pointing at a chair near
the fire. He sways, but doesn’t move.

                  LAURI
        Asseyez vous. Monsieur.

                  LAURI
        Sit down. Sir.

He understands enough to obey her. Swaying slightly he
drops into the chair.

Still holding his hand to his head, he closes his eyes and
feels the warmth of the fire on his face. It makes him
almost delirious.

Lauri watches him. She slowly moves over to Schofield and
places her hand on his. He jumps at her touch. Tenderness
foreign to him.

                  LAURI
        Shhh. Shhh.

Her kindness translates.
                                                          86.


She inspects the wound. She carefully parts his damp hair,
finds the jagged wound. He flinches.

She is very close to him, he can feel her breath on his
neck.

She reaches down, takes out a handkerchief, holds it
against the wound.

He closes his eyes, relaxes against her touch.

Lauri looks at Schofield, his eyes closed, his uniform
caked in blood and mud.

At last he turns back to face her. They lock eyes. A beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (quietly)
        Thank you.

Then, from behind her comes a sound. Something soft, small.
A BABY stirring. Schofield starts.

Lauri moves to the corner of the room. An old mattress lies
on the floor. Next to it, a drawer from an old chest has
been lined with cloth. She reaches in, lifts the child,
cradles it protectively.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Ma petite.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        My little one.

Schofield stares at the baby as it settles in her arms. It
can’t be more than five months old.

                     SCHOFIELD
        A girl?

She nods her head.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Qui. Une fille.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Yes. A girl.

Schofield smiles. A long beat.
                                                        87.


The baby is waking, she begins to cry. Lauri soothes her.

Schofield kneels down bedside them.

The baby is soothed, she settles.

                  SCHOFIELD
        What is her name?

Lauri looks to Schofield, desolate. Shakes her head.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        J’ne sais pas.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        I don’t know.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Who is her mother?

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        J’ne sais pas.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        I don’t know.

The sadness nearly drowns them both. A long beat.

Schofield opens his pack and rummages -

                  SCHOFIELD
        I have food. Here. I have these.
        You can have them - here, take them
        all, for you and the child. Here.

He empties his rations onto the mattress, a bounty in this
barren place. Lauri looks at them, aching with
hopelessness.

Schofield doesn’t understand.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Elle ne peut pas manger ça. Elle a
        besoin de lait...

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
                                                        88.


        She can not eat that. She needs
        milk...

She searches for the word in English-

Schofield blinks at her, in disbelief.

                   SCHOFIELD
        Milk.

Lauri nods.

Schofield’s cold fingers pry the canteen from his belt. He
opens it and hands it to her. She looks at him in wonder.
She smells the canteen. Milk.

Lauri looks up at him, amazement and gratitude etched onto
her tired features.

                   LAURI
        Merci.

The baby is fussing.

Schofield moves closer, gently talking to the child.

                   SCHOFIELD
        Bonjour.

The baby’s bright eyes latch on to his.

                   SCHOFIELD
        Bonjour.

The baby looks at him. Begins to settle.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Avez-vous des enfants? Children -
        you?

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        Do you have children? Children -
        you?

He doesn’t answer. He watches the baby.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Shhhh... It’s alright...

                   LAURI
                                                           89.


             (subtitles)
        Elle vous aime. Continuez...
        continuez a parler.

                  LAURI
             (subtitles)
        She likes you. Continue ... keep
        talking.

Schofield looks at the child, searching for something to
say.

He says the first thing that comes into his head.

He speaks softly, like he’s done it before...

                  SCHOFIELD
        “They went to sea in a Sieve, they
        did,

                  SCHOFIELD
        In a Sieve they went to sea: In
        spite of all their friends could
        say, On a winter’s morn, on a
        stormy day, In a Sieve they went to
        sea.”

The baby’s eyes don’t leave Schofield.

                  SCHOFIELD
        “Far and few, far and few, Are the
        lands where the Jumblies live;
        Their heads are green, and their
        hands are blue, And they went to
        sea in a Sieve.”

A beat. The baby has settled, hypnotised by the sound.

They are still for a moment in the firelight.

Suddenly, the distant church bell tolls. The noise rolls
through the quiet cellar. Schofield starts at the sound.

He counts the clock strikes in his head as they happen.

TWO... THREE...

He keeps looking down at the baby, but his eyes are filling
with fear.

FOUR...FIVE... His heart is sinking.

SIX. He holds his breath.
                                                                90.


     Silence.

     He stands. Goes for his pack. Lauri watches him, confused.

                          LAURI
                     (subtitles)
                Le jour. Les soldats vont vous
                voir... They see you. Il fera jour.
                Vous devriez attendre. Stay. Stay.
                Please.

                          LAURI
                     (subtitles)
                The morning. The soldiers will see
                you. They see you. It will be
                light. You should wait. Stay. Stay.
                Please.

                          SCHOFIELD
                I have to go.

     Schofield takes his rifle and moves to the doorway.

                          SCHOFIELD
                I’m sorry.

     He leaves.


40   INT. HOUSE - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                                 40

     He pushes through the doorway. Damaged wooden stairs lead
     up.

     Schofield slips over the rubble, over the remains of the
     house.

     He peers along the empty street.


41   EXT. SIDE STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                           41

     Schofield stays in the shadows, and begins to work his way
     along the street in the direction Lauri pointed him.

     The town is silent. He looks up at the sky to see if the
     sun is rising. No light.

     He reaches a crossroads - small alleyways branch off. He
     looks around. Lost. He turns to his right - a wide
     alleyway.

     He moves along it, quickly, quietly.
                                                                91.


     BANG - ahead of him a door flies open, warm light spills
     out onto the street, followed by a German soldier. PRIVATE
     MULLER, 30s, blind drunk.

     Muller stumbles a few steps and then vomits. Moaning and
     muttering to himself.

     Schofield ducks into the darkness of a doorway.

     Muller moans and pukes again. Schofield backs inside the
     doorway and into-


42   INT. SCHOOL HOUSE - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                          42

     A small school assembly hall and a couple of other rooms
     have been blown together into one large space. Metal beams
     where there once was a roof. A few school desks, tipped
     onto their sides.

     To one side of the room, wide arched windows let in shafts
     of light from the burning church outside. They streak
     across the inky darkness.

     At the far end of the room is the door Private Muller just
     exited. A small fire burns on the floor by it. Smoke hangs
     in the room. A couple of empty bottles lie around.

     Schofield stays in the shadows. Silently scanning the
     darkness, listening to the pathetic moans of Muller
     outside.

     He looks around, searching for another way out, a way past
     Muller.

     Out of the shadows steps a man - ANOTHER GERMAN SOLDIER -
     BAUMER, late teens. He is doing up his flies.

     They lock eyes, three feet apart.

     A beat - shock on both their faces, then horror. Neither of
     them want this.

     Baumer opens his mouth to scream.

     Schofield closes the three feet and is on him - pushing
     Baumer hard against a pillar.

     Schofield holds Baumer there, his hand clamped over the
     young soldiers mouth. They lock eyes. Schofield holds his
     finger to his lips: Stay quiet.

     Baumer nods.
                                                           92.


Schofield slowly drops his hand from Baumer’s mouth. Wary.

Baumer sucks in a breath and shouts out:

Schofield reacts quickly, ramming his palm into Baumer’s
mouth, gagging him as they both fall onto the hard ground -
the sound echoes loudly though the school house.

Baumer bites down on Schofield’s hand, still bound with its
bandage.

Schofield gasps out, gritting his teeth against the pain.
He forces his hand further into Baumer’s mouth, his other
hand goes to the boys throat - squeezing with all his
strength.

Baumer has a knife. Schofield wrestles it out of his hand.

Baumer thrashes and kicks under Schofield, rolling the two
of them to the side.

They are two feral creatures - both know this is to the
death.

A shadow at the far end of the room. Muller is coming
back...

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Mein Gott Baumer... Das war ein
        Fehler. Wir sollten heute Abend
        zurück gehen. Vielleicht hat
        niemand gemerkt, dass wir weg
        waren.

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Christ Baumer... This was a
        mistake. We should go back tonight,
        maybe no one will notice we’ve
        gone.

Muller staggers his way over to a spot by the fire, slumps
down. Rummages among the empty bottles.

Baumer tears a breath in through his nostrils, tries to
scream -

Schofield squeezes harder on the boy’s neck, pushing the
boy’s head down into the ground. Crushing him into the
broken glass and debris.

                  PRIVATE MULLER
                                                           93.


        Wo ist der Brandy? Du kleiner
        Scheisser.. wehe du bist damit
        fortgelaufen.

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Where’s the brandy? You little
        shit, you better not have run off
        with it.

Desperately, Baumer beats his hands against Schofield’s
chest. Muller hears the noise.

Muller turns and peers towards them. He can’t see them in
the shadows.

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Baumer. Wo ist..? Baumer?

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Baumer. Where is..? Baumer?

But Schofield can see him, and his focus briefly shifts.

In that moment, Baumer fights back - Kicking, clawing,
punching. But he is weaker now. Schofield redoubles his
efforts. His hands and arms ache. Acid stings in his
muscles.

Schofield is desperate. His eyes flick between Muller and
Baumer.

Baumer’s feet scratch and scrape frantically on the stone.

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Baumer?

                  PRIVATE MULLER
        Baumer?

Muller stands, teeters towards them.

Then - Baumer’s arms fall limp.

Schofield snaps up, leaving his rifle behind him, and leaps
out of the shadows.

He barges straight past Muller, heading for the door at the
far end of the room. Muller staggers back -

                  MULLER (O.S.)
        BAUMER!
                                                                94.


43   EXT. SIDE STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                           43

     Schofield is out of the door, running, hands free, breath
     sawing in his ears. The sound of Muller behind him-

                        PRIVATE MULLER (O.S.)
              ENGLANDER! ENGLANDER!

     Muller’s howl chases Schofield along the street. The sound
     of the door swinging open echoes after him.

     Schofield doesn’t stop. Behind him is the sound of Muller
     giving chase then-

     CRACK-

     A bullet sings off the wall opposite.


44   EXT. SMALL STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                          44

     Schofield sprints, looking over his shoulder.

     He turns... and fifty yards in front him -

     Another German Soldier. The same man who chased him across
     the square. The soldier breaks into a run, reaches for his
     rifle.

     The soldier shoots, but Schofield breaks left across the
     street and into -


45   EXT. TINY STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                           45

     A narrow alley.

     Schofield darts down it, looking for some escape.

     Muller and the other German race into the alley behind him.

     Shots burst on the wall next to Schofield.

     To his left is another corner, Schofield sprints for it.
     Flat out into -


46   EXT. CURVED STAIRS STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                  46

     Ahead of Schofield is a flight of stone steps.

     He leaps down. Taking them three or four at a time.
                                                                95.


     He slams against the wall, leaps down another flight.

     His breath burns in his lungs. At the bottom of the stairs,
     is a long straight street, about 100 yards. Leading to a
     Bridge.

     Schofield runs towards it.


47   EXT. BRIDGE STREET - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                         47

     His heartbeat thunders as he sprints flat out.

     The street slopes downhill. Yards fall under him. We can
     now see the burning Town receding behind him.

     The sound of the Two Germans battering down the stairs
     echoes after him.

     They hit the flat street. 30 yards behind him.

     They open fire.

     Bullets crack off the cobbles just in front of him.

     He is 50 yards from the bridge, running full tilt.

     Shots ring out.

     Schofield reaches the bridge. Bullets ring off the rubble.

     He keeps sprinting.

     And suddenly, with no warning, Schofield veers across the
     street, puts one hand on the stone wall of the bridge...

     ...and vaults clean over it -


48   EXT. RIVER - ECOUST - CONTINUOUS                                 48

     Schofield drops forty feet and smashes into the water.

     We are under the dark water.

     Schofield resurfaces, gasping for air. Numb, panicking, he
     thrashes and kicks, fighting the weight, the cold, the
     fear.

     He struggles to slip off his webbing. It tangles up in his
     arms, pulling him down.
                                                          96.


Finally he gets it off, it is swallowed up in the white
water which churns all around him.

Losing the weight of the webbing, he manages to stay above
the water.

The bridge and the German soldiers are long gone. The water
is fast flowing after the rain, rapids sweep him along.

A felled tree lies across the river. Schofield grabs hold
of its branches, tries to pull himself up. But the torrent
is too strong to fight. It rips his hands away, and pulls
him under again.

He surfaces. Coughs and splutters on the water line.

The rapids continue to pull him through the water at speed.

Schofield goes with it. Letting the water carry him.

He scans the river banks ahead. They tower up steeply. He
looks for a way out. Around him, rocks jut out from the
water dangerously. They churn the river into a whirlpool,
spinning him around.

He is now traveling backwards downstream.

Behind him, a large rock rises up out of the water. He is
approaching it fast. He doesn’t see it.

The water drives him hard into the rock. His back and head
are slammed against it.

Schofield is winded, disorientated, barely staying afloat.

Ahead there is a sound.

A deep rumbling.

He fights to keep his ears above the water, to hear it.

The rapids are getting faster, more turbulent.

Schofield realizes what the sound is - the roar of water.

Panic flashes on his face. He thrashes, tries to swim to a
bank.

But it’s too late.

A waterfall lies ahead.
                                                           97.


He braces himself, and then the waterfall is on him in a
flash.

Schofield goes over it.

He is pulled down into the plunge pool.

We lose sight of him. And then, nothing. He is gone.

For a few moments, just the roar of the falls.

Then, suddenly Schofield resurfaces, gasping for air.

The churning water pushes him free of the falls. He manages
to turn onto his back.

The river has got wider, deeper. He grabs hold of a branch.

The current carries him. The world around him has turned
blue in the pre-dawn light.

The river sweeps him forward. He is still gasping for
breath.

Now the tumbling river gradually begins to smooth out into
a cool apron of water.

Schofield is almost unconscious. He is slipping down, his
mouth just above the waterline.

His eyes flutter and open, he spits out water.

Grey mistrals roll through a pale world. Unearthly. They
hover above the river ahead.

The river slowly pulls him. Occasional trees line the bank.

This place is untouched by war. Spared. Clean and cool and
filled with some life.

Schofield is fighting it, but ready to accept that this is
the end. He knows too well there are worse places, worse
ways...

Inch by inch he starts to slip down.

His ears fall under the waterline. The sound is sucked from
the world. His eyes stare upwards. Lips just above the
water.

Schofield seems so peaceful, just floating on the water.
The sound of the falls recedes.
                                                               98.


     We are aware of birds, the wind in the leaves.

     Then the water around him turns flat. The current begins to
     slow.

     White. Petals float on it, a patchwork blanket.

     Cherry Blossom.

     Schofield is swept through the white petals.

     Schofield raises an arm from the water and sees the petals
     clinging to him.

     Blake.

     A long beat.

     Life seeps back into him, breaks through the icy numbness.

     Schofield’s limbs struggle to work in the cold.

     He fights, willing movement.

     He swims towards the bank.

     Ahead there are the sounds of a dam: a gentle fountain of
     water.

     The sun is rising somewhere - the pre-dawn light is
     beginning to illuminate the world around him.

     He has reached the dam - a fallen tree. He begins to haul
     himself out. He looks down.

     BODIES.

     Twelve bodies, give or take.

     SOLDIERS - British, German. And CIVILIANS. Men and women.

     They have caught and gathered, blocked by the tree from
     floating downstream. They have formed a kind of dam.

     He takes the only option. He pulls himself up, and climbs
     across the bodies. His way out.

     He makes it to the river bank, and stumbles up onto the
     slope.


49   EXT. RIVER BANK - CONTINUOUS                                    49
                                                                99.


     He drags himself across the grass, and collapses to his
     knees.

     He cries.

     Big racking sobs - for the river, for life, for Blake, for
     the baby.

     The morning is forming.

     Far off in the distance, something foreign, or long
     forgotten.

     Music. Singing.

     Schofield listens. Then slowly gets up, walks, shaking,
     towards the sound. He stumbles but doesn’t fall. His frozen
     limbs are forced, dragged, back to life.

     Schofield moves up the steep rise. He stops and looks at
     the woods that now lie ahead of him.


50   EXT. PINE WOOD - CONTINUOUS                                      50

     Shafts of morning light stream through the pine trees.

     Schofield walks towards the music. Uncertain if it is real.

     The music is in the air, a canopy, almost directionless. He
     can now make out a voice. And words.

                       VOICE (O.S.)
             ...there is no sickness, toil, nor
             danger/In that bright land to which
             I go...

     Schofield picks his way through the thin trees... and
     suddenly the music has a source.

     A YOUNG SOLDIER stands in a small clearing.

     A British COMPANY - about two hundred men - are gathered
     around listening.

     The young soldier’s voice is pure, untrained. He sings the
     old folk song - “I Am A Poor Wayfaring Stranger”.

                       YOUNG SOLDIER (O.S.)
             I’m going there to see my Father,
             And all my loved ones who’ve gone
             on.
                                                       100.


Schofield stops on the edge of the clearing. Unsettled by
the world before him. Unsure if these men are living or
dead.

If he is one of these ghosts.

He leans against a tree and slumps down on the outskirts of
the group. The music washes over him.

Dawn is breaking.

He closes his eyes. Done.

                  YOUNG SOLDIER
        I’m only going over Jordan I’m only
        going over home.

The song finishes. A smattering of applause.

                  CAPTAIN (O.S.)
        D Company! MOVE OUT!

The men stand up and begin to move. Then a voice.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        You alright pal?

Schofield opens his eyes. A pair of legs before him.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        Where are you from?

Another pair of legs.

                  PRIVATE GREY
        He’s probably got the wind up.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        Well he’s not one of ours.

                  PRIVATE BULLEN
        He’s bloody soaked.

                  PRIVATE GREY
        Fuck it, let’s just pick him up and
        take him with us.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (very faintly)
        Have to find the Devons.

                    PRIVATE GREY
                                                       101.


        What’s he saying?

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        What’s that mate?

                  SCHOFIELD
        The Devons. I have to find the
        Devons.

A pause while the soldiers share a look.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        We’re the Devons.

Schofield looks up at them, disbelief on his face.

                  SCHOFIELD
        You’re the Devons.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        Yes, Corp.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Why haven’t you gone over?

                  PRIVATE BULLEN
        We’re the second wave.

                  PRIVATE WILLOCK
        They don’t send us all at once.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        We’re D Company, we spent the night
        digging in. We go last.

Schofield staggers to his feet. His hand goes to his tunic
pocket, to the envelope.

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        Are you all right?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Mackenzie. Where’s Colonel
        Mackenzie?

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
        He’s down at the line.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Which way?

                  PRIVATE SEYMOUR
                                                             102.


             This way. We’re headed up there
             now.

     Schofield takes off down the line of men, shoving and
     pushing his way as the queue of them winds out of the
     woods.

     We hear Seymour behind him.

                       PRIVATE SEYMOUR (O.S.)
             Oy! Steady on mate! Where you
             going?

     Schofield reaches the edge of the wood. From the break in
     the trees he can see the land stretching ahead of him.

     The one-day-old British trench, is perhaps forty yards
     away, and beyond it, far in the distance, on the higher
     ground is a black ribbon across the land: The German
     trenches. From here you can just begin to sense the scale
     of it.

     A comms trench leads to the front line. Schofield staggers
     down into it.


51   EXT. 2ND COMMS TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                             51

     Schofield begins to run along the comms trench, stumbling,
     weaving in and out of the advancing line of soldiers.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Move!

     We catch glimpses of the men as Schofield passes -

                       SCHOFIELD
             Let me by - Move! Let me through!

     He grabs the first Corporal he sees by the shoulder.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Where’s your commanding officer?

                       LANCE CORPORAL DUFF
             He’s in the holding pen.

     Schofield sprints in that direction - shoving and barging
     now.

     As he approaches the Holding Area, we can see THRONGS of
     SOLDIERS - The 2nd A and B Companies.
                                                            103.


52   EXT. HOLDING PEN - CONTINUOUS                                 52

     The holding area is packed with men.

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON(O.S.)
             B Company, stand to! Now listen,
             and listen well!

     Schofield spots the commanding voice, pushes through
     towards the Lieutenant-

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
             On the first mark, A Company will
             advance! B Company will then move
             to the front line!

                       SCHOFIELD
             Sir, I have a message from General
             Erinmore!

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
             Who the fuck are you?

                       SCHOFIELD
             The attack has been called off.
             General Erinmore has called off the
             attack.

     The Lieutenant stares at Schofield, incredulous.

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
             Balls, man. We’re about to go over.
             We’ve got them on the run.

                       SCHOFIELD
                  (frantic)
             You don’t! Please. Don’t send your
             men over.

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
             Get out of the way, Corporal -

                       SCHOFIELD
             These are direct orders from Army
             command! Where is the Colonel
             Mackenzie?

     Schofield brandishes his letter. Still wet from the river,
     but legible. He looks like a madman. Hutton grabs him by
     the lapels.

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
                  (furious)
                                                            104.


             Jesus Christ, man! Go and see the
             Captain!

     Hutton shoves him away. Schofield staggers on, pushing out
     of the holding area. As he goes, we hear Hutton bellowing
     to his men-

                       LIEUTENANT HUTTON
             Now I want us up there quickly, you
             understand? Do you understand!

     Hutton’s men respond: ‘Yes, Sir!’ etc.

     Schofield rushes through them and into -


53   EXT. 2ND FRONT LINE TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                       53

     The narrow trench is packed with more men.

     This trench is hastily dug. Little more than a temporary
     berm, perhaps five feet high. Hundreds of men crouch just
     inside the trench wall, waiting, preparing.

     He pushes past more men. And still more.

                       SERGEANT WRIGHT
             Sections 9 and 10 at the ready! We
             will advance on the first whistle
             blast!

     Schofield pushes forwards.

                       SERGEANT GARDNER
             You must not slow down! If the man
             next to you falls, keep moving!
             Your orders are to break the lines
             -

                       SCHOFIELD
             Where is the Captain?

     Gardner nods to CAPTAIN IVINS, rocking back and forth, head
     bowed.

                       SERGEANT GARDNER
             He’s over there.

     Schofield gets to Ivins.

                         SCHOFIELD
             Sir? Sir!
                                                          105.


Ivins looks up at Schofield, he’s crying, muttering to
himself, terrified. Tears roll down his face.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Captain, I have a message. This
        attack is called off. You have to
        stop, you have to stop -

Before he can say more, the air vibrates. An impossibly
loud sound -

GERMAN ARTILLERY.

Shells scream overhead and then - a wall of noise.

The air seems to tremble.

SOLDIERS press themselves into the walls of the trench,
take cover wherever they can.

The earth groans as the shells land. Pounding the earth all
around. Not yet zeroed in on the British Line.

                  CAPTAIN IVINS
             (Soundlessly)
        No. No. No.

Schofield grabs Ivins.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (Shouting, soundless)
        Where is Colonel Mackenzie?

Men cover their ears and squeeze their skulls, but the
sound still drowns them. Captain Ivins has his hands over
his ears.

Schofield tries to wrestle his arms away, so he can be
heard.

                  SCHOFIELD
             (Again, soundless)
        Where is Mackenzie?

No response. The noise is too much.

Some men push their heads against the front wall of the
trench, scream into the mud, all voices are lost. Others
cower into the earth.

The noise is unbearable.
                                                          106.


Schofield leaves Ivins, moving faster through the line now
as men crouch and contort themselves low.

Schofield pushes forwards.

Then, twenty yards behind Schofield - a direct hit.

The concussion of the blast ripples along the narrow
trench.

The walls literally bleed earth and chalk.

In an instant IVINS, his men, the entire section of trench
they were in has vanished. They simply disappear -

Schofield is thrown forward, into a huddle of stunned men.

Sound creeps back into the world, raspy screams over the
thunder of explosions. We can hear a voice in the distance.

                  SERGEANT GARDNER(O.S.)
        Bearers! Stretcher bearers!

Schofield drags himself to his feet, keeps moving along the
trench.

German shells whistle through the air all around.

Schofield pushes his way along.

Fountains of mud and iron burst in No Man’s Land, towering
into the sky, showering dirt and shrapnel onto the line.

Schofield doesn’t stop running, pushing through A and B
Companies.

The trench gets thinner, tapering in-

Schofield fights through the men now, running out of space,
running out of time.

The trench narrows until Schofield can’t get through the
men.

The PLATOONS have lost their form here, there are no gaps
between them, everyone is packed together in the chaos.

The German artillery is increasing now. Every moment is
rocked with noise. There is no space, no silence.

Ahead of him, 100 yards down, the trench takes another
direct hit. But Schofield keeps moving towards it.
                                                       107.


MEN flow away from the damage. Pushing their way towards
Schofield. Completely blocking the trench.

Schofield pushes forward until the trench becomes
impassable.

A wall of men, with nowhere to go.

A burly Sergeant is ahead of him, brandishing a pistol,
yelling commands, trying to regain some sort of order, but
his words are lost in the roar of the shells.

                  SERGEANT GUTHRIE
        GET BACK! Return to your sectors.
        GET BACK! BACK! Hold fast!

Schofield pushes past him, and finds the nearest C.O. -
LIEUTENANT RICHARDS. His eyes are on his men, revolver in
hand.

                  LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
        SEVEN PLATOON! ONE MINUTE!

Schofield grabs at him, screams-

                  SCHOFIELD
        Sir, I have orders to stop this
        attack.

Richards wants to believe him.

                   LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
        What?

                  SCHOFIELD
        Where is Colonel Mackenzie?

                  LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
        He’s further up the line.

                   SCHOFIELD
        How far?

                  LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
        Three hundred yards. He’s in a cut
        and cover.

Both of them look around.

                  LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
        You’ll have to wait until the first
        wave goes over.
                                                              108.


                       SCHOFIELD
             No! No, I can’t!

     Schofield turns and looks. More shells hit the trench.
     Chaos.

     The way to Mackenzie is impassable. Panic mingles with
     despair.

     Richards turns back to his men.

                       LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
             7 PLATOON! THIRTY SECONDS!

     Suddenly, Schofield climbs up onto the firing step...

     Richards turns and sees him.

                       LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
             You can’t possibly make it that way
             man, are you bloody insane?

     300 yards. Open ground, utterly without cover. It may as
     well be on the moon.

     Everything slows. Something in Schofield snaps.

                       LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
             What the hell are you doing, Lance
             Corporal?

     Schofield is on the top step...

     He stands.

                       LIEUTENANT RICHARDS
             NO, NO, NO, NO!

     Richards and his men watch on in disbelief, as an unarmed
     Schofield staggers out and into-


54   EXT. NO MAN'S LAND - CONTINUOUS                                 54

     Schofield stumbles forwards. Shocked that he is now out in
     the open.

     Then he starts to run, picking up speed.

     Now Schofield is sprinting full pelt, parallel to the
     trench-
                                                               109.


     His breath burns in and out, sawing in his ears

     Schofield doesn’t stop.

     His legs thump over the earth.

     We hear the screech of the whistle. Three short blasts.

     The roar of hundreds of men follows-

     Schofield keeps sprinting to the western trench as now, SIX
     HUNDRED SOLDIERS pour out of the British front line-

     Running out into No Man’s Land, and crossing in front and
     behind Schofield.

     Hundreds of soldiers, heading towards the German lines as
     he keeps sprinting to the western trench.

     The German guns now erupt again.

     Men fall in their dozens.

     Hundreds more pour over the top.

     Schofield is only half way. He stumbles, falls. But picks
     himself up and keeps on running.

     The whole world shakes on its axis as the shells land.

     The air thunders around him. The ground itself bursts and
     rolls.

     A Company are still pouring out into No Man’s Land.

     Schofield is running, running.

     Through the hail of bullets and shells.

     Still running.

     His lungs burn, his breath grates in his throat as he runs.

     Behind him, men continue to pour over the top.

     Schofield sprints the final few feet and -

     He jumps desperately into -


55   EXT. 2ND COMMAND TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                             55
                                                       110.


He tumbles and lands amongst the waiting men of B Company,
now in the breech.

Schofield careens through them and hits the ground hard.

Men look down at him in horror. He brandishes his message
as a Captain, SANDBACH, closes in on him-

                  SCHOFIELD
             (Breathless)
        Colonel Mackenzie?

The Captain helps Schofield to his feet and pushes him in
the direction of a dugout-

                  CAPTAIN SANDBACH
        He’s in there.
             (he turns to his men)
        B Company two minutes!

There is a lull in the shelling, the earth still rumbles
above them with the sounds of distant machine guns, but the
blasts have stopped.

Schofield runs, half limping, cutting through the men who
are about to be sent over the top, and pushes his way to
the entrance of a dugout.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Let me through!

                  ORDERLY DIXON
        Hey, hey...!

                  SCHOFIELD
        Let me through!

Schofield drops down a few steps, a second orderly, BYRNE
grabs him. Schofield tries to get past.

                  ORDERLY BYRNE
             (overlapping)
        What the hell do you think you’re
        doing?

                  SCHOFIELD
        I have to get through. I have to
        see Colonel Mackenzie!

                  ORDERLY DIXON
        What are you doing?!

                  SCHOFIELD
                                                             111.


             I have to stop this attack-

     He pushes past Dixon and into-


56   INT. MACKENZIE’S DUGOUT ANTE-ROOM - CONTINUOUS                 56

     The two Orderlies have Schofield by the arms now. He has no
     strength left to fight them.

     His voice is lost in melee, as CAPTAIN RYLANDS sweeps past
     him and in-

                       CAPTAIN RYLANDS
             Colonel, we’ve seen flares, the men
             on the left flank have made it to
             the German Line-

                         SCHOFIELD
             Colonel!

                         ORDERLY DIXON
             Hold him!

                         SCHOFIELD
             Colonel!

     The Orderlies haul him out of the dugout.


57   EXT. 2ND COMMAND TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                           57

     Schofield struggles wildly against the orderlies, they have
     him pinned against the trench wall.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Listen to me, listen to me! I have
             a letter! I need to see Colonel
             MacKenzie!

     The Orderlies yell over him.

                       ORDERLY BYRNE
             There’s no bloody way you’re
             getting in there, mate!

     Captain Rylands exits the dugout and bellows down the
     sector to two Sergeants.

                       CAPTAIN RYLANDS
             Sergeant! Send the next wave!
                                                               112.


     The Sergeants yell back in the affirmative from further
     down the line.

                       SCHOFIELD
             NO!

     With the last of his strength, Schofield throws his elbow
     into the stomach of one of the orderlies. He breaks away
     from them and into-


58   INT. MACKENZIE'S DUGOUT - CONTINUOUS                             58

     Schofield careens into the room. A huddle of OFFICERS are
     inside, their backs to him. A commanding voice emanates
     from among them.

                       COLONEL MACKENZIE (O.S.)
             Tell Ivins and Murphy to direct
             their men to the left flank.
             Concentrate everything there.

                       SCHOFIELD
             COLONEL MACKENZIE!

     The officers turn on Schofield, parting as they do. In the
     centre, staring straight at him, is COLONEL MACKENZIE, 40s.

     Mackenzie stands ramrod straight, and is immaculately
     turned out, despite the chaos surrounding him. He has a
     small scar across his left eye.

                       SCHOFIELD
                  (in a rush)
             Sir, this attack is not to go
             ahead! You’ve been ordered to stop.
             You have to stop.

                       COLONEL MACKENZIE
             Who the hell are you?

                       SCHOFIELD
             Lance Corporal Schofield, Sir. 8th.
             I have orders from General Erinmore
             to call off this attack.

     Schofield offers up the letter. The other Officers all
     react.

     But Mackenzie doesn’t take it.

                       COLONEL MACKENZIE
             You’re too late, Lance Corporal.
                                                        113.


                  SCHOFIELD
        Sir, these orders are from Army
        Command. You have to read them.

He holds out the letter to Mackenzie. A damp scrap of
paper.

A Major, HEPBURN, is listening closely.

                  MAJOR HEPBURN
        Shall we hold back the second wave,
        Sir?

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        No, Major. Hesitate now and we
        lose. Victory is five hundred yards
        away.

Mackenzie is resolute.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Sir...Sir! Please read the letter.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        I have heard it all before. I’m not
        going to wait until dusk, or for
        fog. I’m not calling back my men,
        only to send them out there again
        tomorrow. Not when we’ve got the
        bastards on the run. This is their
        last stand.

                  SCHOFIELD
        The German’s planned this, Sir.
        They’ve been planning it for
        months. They want you to attack.
        Read the letter.

This catches MacKenzie’s attention. He nods to Major
Hepburn: get the letter.

Hepburn takes the letter from Schofield, hands it to
Colonel MacKenzie.

MacKenzie opens it. Reads.

His face utterly impassive. Inscrutable.

Schofield waits.

                   COLONEL MACKENZIE
        Major.
                                                          114.


                    MAJOR HEPBURN
        Yes, Sir.

A horrible moment of silence. Everything hangs on this.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        Stand them down.

                    MAJOR HEPBURN
        Yes, Sir.

Schofield closes his eyes. Relief floods his body.

The Major runs from the dugout, a blast of whistles from
the outside - a signal to stop.

Mackenzie addresses his other officers.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        Call up the orderlies. Tend the
        wounded. Hold the line in case they
        counter.

                    OFFICERS
        Yes, Sir.

The Officers empty out of the dugout. Noises of orders
being shouted and whistles being blown seep in from
outside.

A long beat. Schofield senses Mackenzie moving closer to
him.

They are now alone.

Mackenzie speaks quietly.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        I hoped today might be a good day.
        Hope is a dangerous thing.

Schofield stands stock still.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        That’s it for now. Then next week,
        Command will send a different
        message. Attack at dawn.

Mackenzie looks him in the eye.

                    COLONEL MACKENZIE
                                                       115.


        There is only one way this war
        ends. Last man standing.

Mackenzie looks him up and down.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        Have someone see to your wounds.

Schofield is frozen.

                  COLONEL MACKENZIE
        Now fuck off, Lance Corporal.

Schofield leaves the main dugout. Major Hepburn stands just
outside the door. He grabs Schofield’s arm as he passes.

Schofield turns.

                  MAJOR HEPBURN
             (heartfelt)
        Well done, lad.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Thank you, Sir.

Beat.

                  SCHOFIELD
        Do you know where Lieutenant Blake
        is, Sir?

                   MAJOR HEPBURN
        Blake?

                  SCHOFIELD
        There were two of us. I was sent
        here with his brother.

He looks at him. The Major understands.

                   MAJOR HEPBURN
        Ah.

Beat.

                  MAJOR HEPBURN
        Well, knowing Lieutenant Blake he
        would have gone over with his men.
        He was in the first wave.

                  SCHOFIELD
        How could I find him, Sir?
                                                            116.


                       MAJOR HEPBURN
             You can try the casualty clearing
             station, behind the line.
             Otherwise...

     Beat.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Thank you, Sir.

                       CORPORAL CAIRNS (O.S.)
             Major Hepburn, Sir!

     He leaves. A beat while Schofield orientates himself. Then
     he turns and walks out into -


59   EXT. 2ND TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                                  59

     The sounds of the wounded and the dying as they pass. The
     German guns have stopped for now. A brief pause.

     Schofield walks along the line.

     The B, C and D Companies are gathered, pulling in the
     survivors, carrying dying and wounded men along the trench.

     Lifting them by hand where they have no stretchers.

     Schofield continues along. Searching for officers, for
     Lieutenant Blake. No one looks at him. No one sees him. He
     slips past them, a ghost.


60   EXT. SHATTERED COMMS TRENCH - CONTINUOUS                      60

     Schofield turns the corner, and pushes his way along the
     zig-zag length of the trench.

     STRETCHER BEARERS push past him, pressing him against the
     back wall as they pass with the wounded.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Sergeant, I have to find Lieutenant
             Blake. Do you know where he is?

                       SERGEANT
             No.

     Schofield follows them, up a slope, and emerging out into-
                                                               117.


61   EXT. MEADOW - CONTINUOUS                                         61

     An impromptu field station, where several overwhelmed
     MEDICAL OFFICERS, CHAPLAINS and ORDERLIES from the RAMC
     tend to the wounded.

     Schofield moves to the tent.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Sir, is Lieutenant Blake here?

                       MEDICAL OFFICER
             No idea.
                  (beat)
             Move along Corporal.

     Schofield walks through the tent, scanning the wounded.

     Looking at the faces, the bodies.

                       MEDICAL OFFCIER
             If you can walk, move to the triage
             area.

     None of the men are officers, none could be Blake’s
     brother.

                       SCHOFIELD
             Lieutenant Blake! Blake?! Has
             anyone seen Lieutenant Blake?

     He moves through a tent of gravely wounded men. The
     terrible sounds of the dying. None are Blake’s brother.

     Schofield moves outside. He finally stands still, hopeless.

     Sick with his failure.

                       LIEUTENANT (O.S)
             Now come on boys. He’s taken one in
             the leg. He’s lost a lot of blood.

     Schofield turns to see an Officer. He is following a
     stretcher bearer into the field station from the opposite
     direction.

     Schofield stares at the man’s back. The sound of his voice.

     Just an instinct...

                       SCHOFIELD
             Lieutenant Blake?
                                                        118.


The Officer stops and turns to him. His similarity to his
brother takes Schofield’s breath away.

                     LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        Yes.

Schofield is shaky on his feet. He sways a bit, staring at
him.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        Do you need medical assistance?

                  SCHOFIELD
        No, Sir. I’m from the 8th.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        What the hell are you doing here?

                  SCHOFIELD
        I was sent here to deliver a
        message--

Recognition plays on Blake’s face, he smiles at the mention
of his brother’s brigade, moves towards Schofield.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        The 8th? You must know my brother.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I was sent here with him.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        Tom’s here? Where is he?

Schofield looks at him. Blake’s smile slowly drops. A
pause.

                  SCHOFIELD
        It was very quick.

Blake takes it in.

                  SCHOFIELD
        I’m sorry.

Blake nods, wordless. Schofield goes into his tunic pocket,
pulls out Blake’s possessions. There is blood on them. The
elder Blake’s face is ashen as he takes them. His eyes fill
with tears.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        What’s your name?
                                                       119.


                  SCHOFIELD
        Schofield, Sir.

Blake nods. He looks down at his brother’s possessions in
his hands.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        I’m sorry... what?

                  SCHOFIELD
        It’s Schofield, Sir. William
        Schofield. Will.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        Well, you need some food. Get
        yourself to the mess tent.

Beat. Schofield turns to leave. Then -

                  SCHOFIELD
        If I may, I’d like to write to your
        mother. Tell her that Tom wasn’t
        alone.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        Of course.

Schofield searches for something to say.

                  SCHOFIELD
        He was...he was a good man. Always
        telling funny stories.

Blake nods. It doesn’t seem enough.

Then Schofield finds the right words.

                  SCHOFIELD
        He saved my life.

Schofield reaches out to shake his hand. Blake takes it.
They are still for a second.

                  LIEUTENANT BLAKE
        I am glad you were with him.
             (Then)
        Thank you, Will.

Schofield nods. He turns and walks away.

He is like a sleepwalker. Unsure of where to go.
                                                         120.


He moves away from the makeshift Aid Post and into the
meadow beyond.

The grass sways in the breeze. This place is beginning to
turn gold in the morning sun. Schofield drifts through it.

The noise of the horror behind him gradually fades.

Ahead, on the plain, an oak tree towers. Untouched. On the
high branches, leaves dance in the wind.

Schofield walks towards it. He sits on the far side of it,
his back to the trunk. The land stretches out ahead of him
in the early light.

He listens to the wind in the leaves. Birdsong.

He undoes his breast pocket. He pulls out the small tobacco
tin. He stares at it.

He takes a deep breath and opens it. Two photographs.

Schofield lifts them out, looks at them:

TWO YOUNG GIRLS, his daughters. They smile at the camera.

He looks at the other - his WIFE.

He turns the photo over.

On the back, her handwriting:

“Come back to us.”

He stares at it for a long beat.

The pain on his face ebbs into longing. Love.

He closes his eyes and feels the sun on his face.

THE END.

FOR LANCE CORPORAL ALFRED H. MENDES

1ST BATTALION, KING’S ROYAL RIFLE CORPS

WHO TOLD US THE STORIES