NOLAN: That you, Ivor?
MORRIS: It’s me right enough.
He enters the tent.
MORRIS: What a night!
NOLAN: At least we’re out of the wind in here.
MORRIS: Did you hear we lost an officer last night? Major Willet. Dead of cold or exposure or whatever you call it.
NOLAN: I can believe it. Do you know, I wish I was in Balaclava town this minute. They’ve got fires down there. Girls too for all I know. And liquor.
MORRIS: I wish I was in Sebastopol, in the bloody fortress with the Russkis. Snug as a bug in a rug I’d be. With the occasional trifling inconvenience of a British shell possibly disturbing my slumbers.
NOLAN: Without the faintest chance of a British soldier coming to stir me out of ’em. When will they learn? It doesn’t matter how long you bombard a place, you might as well be whistling at it unless you send a storming party in, horrible men with swords and bayonets and pop-guns to kill whoever’s stirring. I wonder if the point ever strikes that perfumed idiot Lord Cardigan.
The British siege-guns are bombarding the Russian fortress of Sebastopol. LORD CARDIGAN and a couple of officers ride up.
CARDIGAN: Ah, I see. Those fellows down there are our men, and they are firing at the Russians. Is that correct?
OFFICER: That’s correct, my lord.
CARDIGAN: Yes. Well, why don’t we drive them away?
OFFICER: We seem not to have the forces sufficient to undertake such a difficult operation, my lord.
CARDIGAN: I have never in my life seen a siege conducted on such principles. Or lack of them. Without an assault this cannonade is useless. Huge sums of money have been blown away in ammunition; time, which is of the most vital importance, has been squandered, and nothing whatever has been gained. What is to be done next?
OFFICER: We await orders from Lord Raglan, sir.
CARDIGAN: No doubt you do, my boy. Well, it’s back on board the Dryad for me. Some miles away, it’s true, but I might as well be back in Whitehall for all the good I can do here. And at least on my yacht I can be dry and warm.
Back in NOLAN’s tent.
NOLAN: (Fade up)… and not counting the Sebastopol garrison, there must be twenty thousand Russian troops out there, infantry and cavalry and heaven knows how many guns.
MORRIS: Under General Liprandi, who it seems is an aggressive sort of customer.
NOLAN: I rather fancy the sound of him. It’s worth crossing swords with a bastard like that, if we ever get within ten miles of him.
MORRIS: The Lord will provide.
NOLAN: He’d better. Otherwise we’ll have to provide something ourselves.
MORRIS: You know, Lew, I’ve been thinking about your telegraph message from Robert Cecil. The last sentence, where he as good as told you to do anything you could to get our fellows a chance to hit the Russkis with everything they’ve got. Easy for him to talk like that in London, isn’t it? I mean—
NOLAN: Oh, the lad’s heart’s in the right place, but he’s never seen action.
MORRIS: Action, what action?
NOLAN: Sure, he’s no notion what inaction’s like either, British army-style, courtesy of Lord Look-On. Oh, it’s hopeless, Ivor.
MORRIS: The only thing he can think of to do is get us all out of bed an hour before dawn to ‘stand at our horses’. There’s the aggressive spirit for you.
NOLAN: Right, let’s go and stand at the poor nags. They must be as miserable as we are.
LUCAN and his staff walk their horses through the gloom.
STAFF OFFICER: All present and correct, my lord.
LUCAN: Thank you. Who’s that?
PAGET: (Calling as he approaches) George Paget here, Lord Lucan.
LUCAN: Good morning, Lord George. Lord Cardigan not appeared yet?
PAGET: I expect he’s still on his way from his yacht, sir. I’m deputizing for him. Getting quite used to it.
LUCAN: Let’s move on to the artillery emplacement. They may have news there.
They ride on.
PAGET: (Surprised) Hullo!
LUCAN: What is it?
PAGET: There are two flags flying from the staff. What does that mean?
STAFF OFFICER: Why, that must be the signal that the enemy is approaching.
PAGET: Are you quite sure?
A great cannonade of British [light] guns starts up. We hear sounds of battle but no close engagement.
LUCAN: If the Russians storm the heights there’s nothing between them and Balaclava but our cavalry.
PAGET: What are your orders for the Light Brigade, Lord Lucan?
LUCAN: Lord Raglan has done nothing, not even sent word. It must be our first duty to defend the approach to the town of Balaclava.
PAGET: Orders for the Light Brigade, sir!
LUCAN: Lord George, you will take the Light Brigade into reserve.
PAGET: My lord, please give us something to do, something active.
LUCAN: Kindly carry out my order at once. I will go forward with the Heavy Brigade and the Horse Artillery to make threatening demonstrations and using my guns as long as my ammunition lasts. Forward, the Heavy Brigade!
Bombardment. Two great explosions. Sounds of Turkish infantry in retreat.
STAFF OFFICER: Lord Lucan, most of our squadrons have come within musket range.
LUCAN: So I see. I must withdraw the whole cavalry division to the slopes of the Causeway over yonder. Proceed by alternate regiments. Send an order to Lord George Paget.
Cavalry on the move.
CARDIGAN: Morning, Lord George. Beautiful day.
PAGET: It is now, my lord.
CARDIGAN: H’m. How goes it?
PAGET: Not well, sir. In fact damn badly. The Russians are out in overwhelming strength, all our gun emplacements have fallen, the Turkish troops have run for it, we’ve lost command of the heights, and it looks as though we’re going to lose Balaclava too. And the cavalry division has been moved out of the way.
CARDIGAN: That wretched Lucan again.
PAGET: Not this time, my lord, in fairness. specific orders from Lord Raglan. We were in an excellent position before. Now there’s only a few hundred Highland infantry under Sir Colin Campbell and a few dozen Turks to face the Russians.
CARDIGAN: I’ve no confidence in any of ’em.
Russian cavalry on the move.
LUCAN: On the order of Lord Raglan, eight squadrons of dragoons under General Scarlett are to be detached from the Heavy Brigade towards Balaclava to support the infantry.
CAMPBELL addresses his troops.
CAMPBELL: Men, remember there is no retreat from here. You must die where you stand. But for the moment you don’t stand at all. Everybody down flat and don’t get up till I give the word. And when you do get up, both ranks be ready to fire. We’ll give those Russkis the shock of their lives. Make sure every shot tells.
Russian cavalry charging.
CAMPBELL: On your feet, men! Front rank, aim! Fire!
Volley of musketry. Confusion among Russian cavalry.
CAMPBELL: Rear rank, aim! Fire!
More of the same.
CAMPBELL: Get back in line, there! Damn all that eagerness! Let ’em come to you! Front rank, aim! Fire!
More of the same, followed by Scottish cheers.
CAMPBELL: Had enough, you Russian dogs? Ay, get yourselves out of harm’s way while you can! I don’t blame you!
British cavalry on the move.
SCARLETT: Halt!