THIS is a brief display of contemporary humanity. The opening effect is one of walking and hurrying crowds. Across this appears and fades the legend "Whither Mankind?" A rapid succession of flashes evoke the multitudinousness, the hurry and confused inadequate efficiency of our world. Crowds and cities appear and dissolve into kindred scenes in other places there are momentary flashes of crowded cities, Paris, Tokio, Milan, Valparaiso, Timbuctoo, Moscow.
    One of the following special scenes. Either:
    Crowds crossing Brooklyn Bridge and a great traffic and activity in the river below.
    The Tower Bridge open to let a steamer through, the pool full of shipping, the cranes on the wharves active.
    Port of Bremen similarly active.
    Or traffic and crowds by the Eiffel Tower.
    Any one of these scenes will suffice. It should correspond with the one chosen for the end of Part VII, q.v.
    After such scenes of City activity the screen reminds us of such contrasted activities as: small cultivations, and then sweeping across it large scale harvesting; a peasant cart joggling along a road and then crowded trains and platforms. A peasant's cradle rocks and dissolves into the methodical work of a modern child welfare clinic. A wheel-wright melts into a great motor car factory.
    The mint is seen printing paper money.
    Close up of machines turning out paper money and bank clerks handling bunches of it faster and faster.
    A Wall Street or Bourse panic scene follows.
    All these are flashes of the briefest possible sort. They are intended to recall to the audience outstanding aspects of the contemporary world by shots of familiar and typical scenes and activities. I believe it would be far better for a competent editor and cutter to piece together this part of the film from pre-existing material. The more bustling and familiar it is the better.
    As the flashes follow each other faster and faster, the words WHITHER MANKIND? across the scene fade in again for a moment and then fade out as we pass into the second part, in which the localised and personal story opens.

EVERYTOWN is every town. That is to say, it is the average great town of our times. It is backed by a very characteristic skyline of hills which recurs throughout the film to remind us that we are following the fate of one typical population group, and it has a central "place," a big Market Square with big hotels, public buildings, cinemas, kiosks, statuary, tramways, etc.
    First, there is a general view of Everytown from a crest above it. In the foreground we see workers going down the hill into the town, and down the hill we see the whole of Everytown, suburbs and Central Square together; it is a clear Christmas Eve.
    Then we come to the Central Square in Everytown. It has features recalling Trafalgar Square or a big-town Market Square or a French Grand Place. There is a confluence of trams and buses. The Christmas traffic is active. On one of the chief buildings the moving light sign of a newspaper flashes the latest news. "Europe is arming...."
    The camera moves up from the traffic of the Square to this light sign: "Alarming speech by Air Minister----"
    Big shop window full of Christmas toys. Children and mothers admiring.
    An autobus stops and people get out of it. On the autobus one sees the usual newspaper posters with a glaring headline about the dangerous international situation. "Straits dispute. Acute situation."
    The entrance of a tube station. The usual traffic. A newsvendor stands at the entrance. His placard reads : "Another 10,000 aeroplanes." But he shouts, "All the winners."
    In an autobus a young girl opens her paper and glances through the first page, which is full of headlines talking about the war danger. She has only a cursory glance for that stuff; she turns the page and plunges with passionate interest into the fashion article.
    During all these scenes, Christmas shoppers and people with packages pass to and fro. It is a peaceful and fairly happy Christmas shopping crowd. Nobody appears to be affected imaginatively by the war danger. The voice has called "Wolf" too often. Only the camera calls the attention of the audience to the brooding threat.
    At this point the essential story of the film begins.
    A glimpse is given of a scientific laboratory in which young Harding, a student of two and twenty, is working intently. It is a small, reasonably well-equipped municipal school laboratory looking out on the Central Square. It is a biological, not a chemical laboratory. Two microscopes are visible and plenty of laboratory glass, taps, etc., but not too many bottles and no retorts. (This laboratory has to appear in a ruinous state later, sans glass or breakables.) Through the open window comes the bellowing of the newsvendor. "War crisis!" Harding listens for a moment: "Damn this war nonsense." He closes the window to shut out the sound. He looks at his watch and sets himself to put things away.
    At first he is wearing a neat laboratory overall. This he takes off.

    A suburban residential road with little traffic and many pleasant detached homes is seen, and Harding walking along it. He approaches a house through a garden gate.

A RATHER dark study is seen in which John Cabal is musing over a newspaper. The furniture of the room indicates his connection with flying. There is the blade of a propeller over the mantel shelf and a model on the mantel shelf. On the table are some engineering drawings partly covered by the newspaper.
    Cabal's arm, with wrist-watch, is resting on the evening paper. He has a habit of drumming with his fingers which is shown here and again later. The camera comes up to the hand and paper.
    The headlines show:
    "EVENING NEWSLETTER.
    London. December 24th, 1940. 1d."
    Streamer headline: "STRAITS DISPUTE: ACUTE SITUATION."
    Column headlines: "ALARMING SPEECH BY AIR MINISTER. ANOTHER 10,000 AEROPLANES NOW."
    (This newspaper should be practically a facsimile of the London Evening Standard. It should show the customary insets beside the title of the weather forecast and the lighting-up time. It is the Final Night edition and it also announces Closing City Prices.)
    Cabal pondering. He looks towards the door. Harding comes in. He approaches Cabal. Harding sees the paper and the headlines.
    Cabal: "Hullo, young Harding! You're early."
    Harding: "I had finished up. It was too late to begin anything fresh. Why are the newsboys shouting so loud? What is all this fuss in the papers to-night, Mr. Cabal?"
    Cabal: "Wars and rumours of wars again.
    Harding: "Crying wolf?"
    Cabal: "Some day the wolf will come. These fools are capable of anything."
    Harding: "What becomes of medical research in that case?"
    Cabal: "It will have to stop."
    Harding: "That will mess me up. It's pretty nearly all I care for. That and Marjorie Home, of course."
    Cabal: "Mess you up. Of course it will mess you up. Mess up your work. Mess up your marriage. Mess everything up. My God, if war gets loose again...."
    Cabal and Harding turn towards the door as Passworthy walks in.
    Passworthy: "Hullo Cabal! Christmas again!" (Sings.) "While shepherds watched their flocks by night, All seated on the ground...."
    Cabal nods at the paper. Passworthy takes it up and throws it down with disdain.
    Passwortliy.. "What's the matter with you fellows? Oh, this little upset across the water doesn't mean war. Threatened men live long. Threatened wars don't occur. Another speech by him. Nothing in it, I tell you. Just to buck people up over the air estimates. Don't meet war half-way. Look at the cheerful side of things. You're all right. Business improving, jolly wife, pretty house."
    Cabal: "All's right with the world, eh? All's right with the world. Passworthy, you ought to be called Pippa Passworthy...."
    Passwortliy: "You've been smoking too much, Cabal. You - you aren't eupeptic . . ." (Walks round and sings.) "No-el! No-el! No-el!..."
    In Cabal's living-room. Christmas tree with freshly lit candles burning and presents being taken off and distributed. A children's party ill progress. Each child is busy in its own way. Horrie Passworthy is donning a child's soldier's "panoply." Timothy is laying out a toy railway system. He is completely absorbed in his work, neither hearing nor seeing anything, working with the intensity of the born builder. A smaller girl and a very small boy enter the picture. They have been attracted by the work and the worker. They stare admiringly. In another corner of the room Horrie, now in full uniform, beats his drum.
    Horrie: "Fall in! Fall in!" Three boys fall in behind him. "Quick march!" They march off to the drum taps.
    Timothy finishing his layout. He surveys it with a last glance before starting the engine. Horrie enters the picture with his followers. The camera shows only the marching feet of Horrie's followers. Railway system spread out. Horrie's foot kicks aside some part of the system.
    Timothy (nervously): "Don't!"
    The marching feet pass by. Timothy has but one thought, to save his gadgets. He succeeds. He lays out his railway again. To a little boy: "You work the signals." The little boy sits down happily. To the little girl: "You-you look on." The little girl sits down and plays her part; she admires. Timothy starts his train. The train moves. Timothy is earnestly observing it. The two children are delighted. Drum going. Horrie and his followers return and halt. Horrie stops and thinks.
    Horrie: "Make an accident!"
    Timothy looks up for a second: "No." Busy with railway.
    Horrie: "Make an earthquake!"
    Timothy: "No."
    Horrie: "Let's have a war."
    Timothy: "No."
    Horrie goes off reluctantly.
    The toy railway. Train going. One of the carriages collapses. It turns over. It has been hit by a wooden pellet. We see four guns being worked by Horrie and his friends They are delighted. Timothy realises that the whole layout is being bombarded to pieces. He tries to protect the railway with his hands. Protesting desperately: "Horrie - stop!" His hand is hit by a projectile. The little girl protests with Timothy.
    Horrie directs the firing of the guns. More projectiles hit Timothy. Timothy jumps to his feet and goes to attack Horrie. Horrie rises quickly, Timothy hits him. Horrie disengages himself from Timothy, kicks over the engine and disarranges the rails. Timothy claws hold of him, and they begin a tussle which ends on the ground.
    Uproar in the room. By the middle door Mrs. Cabal enters and hurries towards the fighters. By the door from Cabal's study enter Passworthy, followed by Cabal and Harding. Horrie and Timothy fighting. Mrs. Cabal comes up and tries to pull the boys apart.
    Mrs. Cabal: "Timothy, Timothy, what's the matter?"
    Passworthy grabs Horrie: "Here, young man, what have you been doing?"
    Horrie: "I only made a little war on him, daddy - and he didn't play fair."
    Passworthy: "Soldiers are to protect us - not to smash up things."
    Horrie: "But daddy, a war must smash up things."
    Passworthy: "You go on sentry duty, see - soldiers are to prevent war, not provoke it."
    Horrie obeys reluctantly. Children resuming their activities. Timothy with railway. Horrie doing sentry go, rather sulkily.

    Cabal, Passworthy, Harding, Mrs. Cabal and grandfather are on a raised dais at the end of the room.
    Passworthy: "They're forgetting their troubles already. Queer things kids are! Flare up in a moment - and then it's all over."
    Grandfather: "Nice toys they have nowadays, nice toys. The toys we had were simpler. Ever so much simpler. Noah's Arks and wooden soldiers. Nothing so complex as these. I wonder perhaps if sometimes they don't find these new toys a bit too much for them."
    Passwortliy: "Now that's an idea!"
    Grandfather: "Aye. Just an idea."
    Mrs. Cabal: "It teaches them to use their hands."
    Grandfather : "Well, I suppose their grandchildren will have still more wonderful things. Progress - and progress - I'd like to see - the wonders they'll see."
    Cabal: "Don't be too sure of progress."
    Passworthy "You - incurable pessimist."
    Grandfather: "Well, what's going to stop progress nowadays?"
    Cabal: "War!"
    Passworthy: "Well, firstly, there isn't going to be a war, and secondly, war doesn't stop progress. It stimulates progress."
    Cabal ironically: "Yes war's a highly stimulating thing. But you can overdo a stimulant. The next dose may he a fatal one. An overdose."
    Passworthy, hesitating: "Well, after all, don't we exaggerate about the horrors of war? Aren't we overdoing that song? The last war wasn't as bad as they make out. One didn't worry. Something great seemed to have got hold of you."
    Cabal: "Something still greater may get hold of you next time. You're talking through your hat, Passworthy. If we do not end war - war will end us. Everybody says that, millions of people believe it, and nobody does anything. I do nothing----"
    Passworthy: "Well, what can you do?"
    Cabal: "Yes, what can we do?"
    Passworthy : "Carry on. Carry on, and trust to the commonsense of mankind."
    Christmas tree with the candles burnt half-way down.
    Christmas tree with candles being extinguished by a maid. Time has passed.

THE suburban road outside John Cabal's house. Various clocks - one after another - are heard striking midnight. Cabal's house. Door opens. Cabal, Mrs. Cabal, Harding and Passworthy come out. Christmas bells are heard.
    Passworthy: "Peace on earth, Goodwill to all men. It is going to be a real old-fashioned Christmas this year. Fresh and a little snow, a nip in the air."
    A faint thud is heard. Everybody silent for a moment.
    Mrs. Cabal: "What was that? It sounded like a gun."
    Passworthy: "No guns about here. Merry Christmas, Cabal - good luck to us for another twelvemonth. The last wasn't so bad. Here's to another year of recovery."
    Long shot of road. Suddenly searchlights appear in the sky silhouetting the hill crest. The group at the door observe the searchlights and turn questioningly towards one another.
    Mrs. Cabal: "But what are searchlights doing now?"
    Passworthy: "Anti-aircraft manœuvres, I expect."
    Cabal: "Manœuvres! At Christmas? No!"
    Three thuds rather louder mingle with the pealing bells.
    Harding: "Listen. Guns again."
    The bells cease abruptly. The sound of distant guns becomes quite distinct.
    The group - mute suspense. Heavy concussion heard.
    After this the noise subsides as though the trouble was drifting away from Everytown. Nobody speaks. From the study the telephone rings. Cabal turns and hurries back into the house, the others go a few steps after him and listen anxiously.
    Cabal, heard off: "What, to-night - three o'clock at the Hilltown hanger. I'll be there."
    Cabal comes out again to the listening group. "Mobilisation!"
    Mrs. Cabal: "Oh - oh God!"
    Passworthy: "Perhaps it's only a precautionary mobilisation."
    Cabal turns and goes into the house. The others follow.
    Cabal's study. They will hear if the radio has anything to say. Cabal turns on radio.
    Radio: "The unknown aircraft passed over Seabeach and dropped bombs within a few hundred yards of the waterworks. They then turned seaward again. By this time they had been picked up by the searchlights of the battleship Dinosaur and before they could mount out of range she had opened upon them with her anti-aircraft guns. Unfortunately without result."
    Passworthy: "That's - that's alarming certainly."
    Harding: "Of course everyone has said 'This time there will be no declaration of war.'"
    Mrs. Cabal: "Listen!"
    The radio resumes, crackling: "We do not yet know the nationality of these aircraft, though of course there can be little doubt of their place of origin. But before all things it is necessary for the country to keep calm. No doubt the losses suffered by the fleet are serious."
    Passworthy, interrupting the radio: "What's that? Losses of the fleet?"
    Mrs. Cabal impatiently: "Listen! Listen!"
    Radio: "And it is imperative that the whole nation should at once stand to arms. Orders for a general mobilisation have been issued and the precautionary civilian organisation against gas will at once be put into operation. Ah - instructions have come to hand. We shall cut off for five minutes and then read you the general instructions. Please call in any friends. Call in everyone you can." Radio ceases.
    Cabal, bitterly: "You've got your stimulant, Passworthy. Something great has got you. War has come."
    They all look at each other.
    Passworthy, to Harding: "I suppose we shall find our marching orders at home. Nothing to do now but get on with it."
    Mrs. Cabal: "War! God help us all."
    Passworthy and Harding on their way home. Passworthy garrulous. Harding darkly silent.
    Passworthy: "My God! If they have attacked without a declaration of war - then it's vengeance. No quarter, it's vengeance. Punishment - punishment - condign - or an end to civilisation for ever. It's just possible it's some mistake. I cling to that. But if not - then War to the Knife. It's not a war. It's a fight against dangerous vermin. A vermin hunt without pause or pity. (Flatly.) Good night."
    Harding has had nothing to say. He nods good night, stands watching Passworthy for a moment and then rouses himself with a start to go his way.

    The Central Square of Everytown. Large anti-aircraft on truck comes into Square. Searchlights being mounted on a roof.
    Electric signs going out.
    Special service men in badges herding people to shelter.
    Belated straggler running across the Square.
    Searchlights break out.
    Anti-aircraft gun being loaded by the light of a carefully shaded lamp. Faces of the gunners seen closely.
    All this is to be very quick and furtive. As lights go down the lighting changes to silhouette effect and the sounds diminish until at the end there is absolute silence.
    Cabal and his wife in the children's nursery. Cabal is buttoning on his airman uniform. He looks at the sleeping children. He turns his head, tormented by the thought of their future.
    Mrs. Cabal: "My dear, my dear, are you sorry we - had these children?"
    Cabal thinks long. "No. Life must carry on. Why should we surrender life to the brutes and fools?"
    Mrs. Cabal: "I loved you. I wanted to serve you and make life happy for you. But think of the things that may happen to them. Were we selfish?"
    Cabal draws her to him: "You weren't afraid to bear them---- We were children yesterday. We are anxious, but we are not afraid. Really."
    Mrs. Cabal nods acknowledgement, but cannot talk because she would cry.
    Timothy's bed, with Cabal and his wife standing beside it.
    Cabal: "Courage, my dear."
    Whispering to himself: "And may that little heart have courage."

    A series of flashes recall the flashes of the second part. Everytown is seen in a belated wintry dawn.
    Suburban road. Men come from the houses carrying parcels or suitcases and go off towards the station.
    A young wife saying good-bye to her husband, who is waiting for a tram.
    Bus stop. Men get on the bus with their packages. A sort of forced cheerfulness. Eyebrows raised and a forced smile with the corners of the mouth turned down.
    No march music here. None of the elation of 1914. The shuffle, tramp, tramp of the doomed householders.
    Passworthy with Horrie in the front garden of his house. Horrie in his uniform of yesterday. Passworthy going out. He puts on an armlet.
    Horrie, pointing to the armlet: "Are you an officer, daddy?"
    Passworthy: "We've got to do our bit, sonny. We've got to do our bit."
    Horrie: "I'm an officer too, daddy."
    Passworthy: "That's the spirit, old son. Nothing else for it now. Carry on, sir. Carry on."
    The two salute each other in brave burlesque. He lifts his son and kisses him. He goes.
    Horrie by himself. He taps his drum. First thoughtfully, and then with more confidence. He beats the drum, begins to hum and marches. Works himself up. Hums louder - sings wordlessly. The beating of his drum passes into marching music which carries on through the next flashes.
    Faintly, behind little Horrie appear the shadows of marching troops, keeping step with him and his drumming. They intensify as he fades.
    Effect of marching armies.

THE marching troops becomes phantom-like and vanish. A peaceful countryside, winter. The same country scene has appeared in Part I, but now everywhere there are signs of war preparation. In the foreground a smooth-flowing river, or lake, that reflects the scene - suddenly the mirror is broken as enormous amphibian tanks crawl up out of the water. A gigantic howitzer suddenly rears itself up from a peaceful field.
    Scene from the air. Roadways choked with war material moving up to the front. Closer detail shots of the same scene. Long lines of tanks and caterpillar lorries. Long lines of steel-helmeted men. Lorries full of men. Lorries full of shells. Great dumps of shells. A fantasia of war material in motion.
    Chemical factory. Piles of cases being loaded.
    The manufacture of gas bombs. The workers all wear gas masks of ghoulish type.

    The guns go off. A repetition of some of the foregoing shots - but now the men and guns are no longer moving into action, but are in action. Guns being fired, tanks advance firing, battleships firing a broadside, gas hissing out of cylinders.
    A gun crew round a gun, passing shells up to the gun.
    Beneath an aeroplane a crew fixing bombs.
    Squadron after squadron of aeroplanes take to the sky. Everytown is seen with hostile aeroplanes in the sky. An explosion in the foreground fills the scene. As the smoke clears it reveals the suburban road in Everytown in which Passworthy lives, and something small and dark is seen far down the footpath.
    We pass up the road and before the shattered garden fence we see little Horrie in his panoply, sprawling dead.
    A long silent pause.
    Bombs are heard receding in distance.
    (This is the first dead body we see on the screen.)
    Scenes of Everytown being bombed. Sirens, whistles and hooters. Panic working up in Square. Quick flashes of military working anti-aircraft guns. Again to crowded Square, terrified faces looking up. Increased panic. Aeroplanes overhead. Anti-aircraft firing rather helplessly.
    A tramcar runs down the street, it lurches and falls sideways across the street. The façade of a gigantic general store falls into the street. The merchandise is scattered and on fire. Window dummies and wounded civilians lie on the pavement.
    Bomb bursting in crowded Square. Cinema crashing in ruins.
    A bomb bursts a gas main, a jet of flame, the fire spreads.
    Officials distributing gas masks, the crowd in a panic. Fight for masks. Official swept off his feet. Long shot of aeroplanes, they distribute gas like a smoke screen. The cloud slowly descends on the town. The gas cloud descends, the guns continue to fire in the darkness. Long shot of the gas cloud descending on and darkening the Square. People in offices and flats trapped by the gas pouring into the windows.
    Long shot of the Square, now very misty and dark. No civilians are moving about, but there are a few scattered dead.

ENEMY airman, a boy of 19, is in the air, distributing gas. Close up of him in his cockpit. He finishes his supply and banks to turn about. He looks up into the sky and discovers he is being attacked. He is plainly apprehensive.
    John Cabal in his aerop1ane. He is heading for the enemy airman.
    Air fight. It is a one-sided fight between a bomber and a swift fighter. Enemy airman crashes. Cabal nose-dives, but straightens out.
    Enemy airman crashing. Houses, etc., in the background under the cloud of gas he has spread. (N.B. - This is no part of Everytown, and the familiar skyline, etc., are to play no part in this scene.)
    Cabal landing with difficulty. He looks towards enemy aeroplane and then hurries towards it. Fire breaks out in the wrecked machine as Cabal approaches it.
    Cabal arrives at enemy aeroplane. Enemy airman staggers out as the flames spread. He is beating out the fire in his smouldering clothing. He staggers and falls. The rest of the scene goes to a flickering light because of the burning aeroplane. Gusts of black smoke across picture.
    Cabal helps the enemy airman, who is evidently very badly injured. He is as yet too stunned to be in anguish, but he knows he is done for. Cabal settles him fairly comfortably on the ground.
    Cabal: "Is that better? My God - but you are smashed up, my boy. "
    Cabal tries to make him comfortable. He desists and stares at the enemy airman with a sort of blank amazement.
    "Why should we two be murdering each other? How did we come to this?"
    The gas is drifting nearer to them. The enemy airman points to it. "Go, my friend! This is my gas, and it is a bad gas. Thank you. "
    Cabal: "But how did we come to this? Why did we let them set us killing each other? "
    The enemy airman says nothing, but his expression assents.
    Cabal and the airman take their gas masks. Cabal helps the enemy airman with his mask and adjusts it. There is some difficulty due to the airman's broken arm, Cabal desists and has to try again.
    Enemy Airman: "Funny if I'm choked by my own poison."
    Cabal: "That's all right."
    Cabal puts the mask on and then puts his own on. They hear a cry and look up.
    Cabal follows their look, and they see a little girl running before the gas. She is already choking and presses a handker-chief to her mouth. The girl, very distressed, runs towards them and hesitates, not knowing which way to go. She is heedless of the two men.
    Enemy airman stares, then tears off his mask and holds it out to Cabal. "Here - put it on her."
    Cabal hesitates, looks from one to the other.
    Enemy Airman: "I've given it to others - why shouldn't I have a whiff myself?"
    Cabal puts the mask on the girl, who resists, frightened, and then understands and submits.
    Cabal: "Come on, kiddy, this is no place for you. You make tracks that way. I'll show you."
    Cabal goes off with the girl and then returns into picture to see if the enemy airman has a pistol. He realises that he has not, hesitates, and gives his own pistol to him. "You may want this."
    Enemy Airman: "Good fellow - but I'll take my dose."
    The enemy airman is left dying in the flickering light of his burning aeroplane. The gas is very near now. The wisps drift towards him. He looks after Cabal and the girl. "I dropped the stuff on her. Maybe I've killed her father and mother. Maybe I've killed all her family. And then I give up my mask to save her. That's funny. Oh! that's really funny. Ha, ha, ha. That - that's a joke!"
    The gas drifts by him and he starts to cough. He remembers Cabal's words. "What fools we airmen have been! We've let them make us fight for them like dogs. Smashed trying to kill her - and then I gave her my mask! Oh God! It's funny. Ha, ha, ha."
    His laugh changes to a cough of distress, as the gas envelops and hides him. The cough grows fainter and fainter, and vapour blots out the scene. "I'll take it all - take it all. I deserve it."
    He is heard again coughing and panting. Then comes a cry, then a groan of sudden unendurable suffering.
    A pistol shot is heard. Silence. The screen is filled with drifting vapour.

A SUCCESSION of newspaper headings marks the prolongation of the war.
    The first newspaper has the same type of heading as the newspaper in Cabal's study before the Children's Party. Open with a close shot on date of paper.

    The weather forecast and the lighting-up time are no longer there. Date is May 20th, 1941. Price threepence. In place of "Closing City Prices" is "Prohibition of Speculation," but the paper still claims to be FINAL NIGHT EDITION.
    Headline across two columns: THE END IN SIGHT.
    Headline across two columns: THE RATIONING SCANDAL.
    Sub-head underneath the first heading: BENEFITS OF BLAKE'S AIR OFFENSIVE.
    Text: "The immense efforts and sacrifices of the air force during the great counter offensive of last month are bearing fruit."
    Camera close up to the date again and the close up to the date is repeated in the case of each of the newspapers which follow.
    A very roughly printed newspaper with blurs and discolorations wipes across and replaces its predecessor. The newspaper marks a great deterioration in social efficiency.
    It is printed from worn-out type and the lower lines fall away.

    No. I. New Series. February 2nd, I952. Price One Pound Sterling.

    "It is necessary to press on with the war with the utmost determination. Only by doing so can we hope..."
    A third paper wipes across this again:

    No. 754. March, 1955. Price One Pound Sterling.

    A desolate heath. Something burning far away. A sheet of decaying newspaper is fluttering in the wind. It catches on a thorn and as the wind tears at it the audience has time to read the ill-printed sheet of coarse paper:

    September 21st, 1966. Price Four Pounds Sterling.
    "Hold on. Victory is coming. The enemy is near the breaking point..."
    The wind tears the scrap of paper to pieces.
    Here follows some still and desolate scene to suggest and symbolise our contemporary civilisation shattered to its foundations. The exact scene to be chosen could best be left to the imagination and invention and facilities of the model maker. It might even be different in the American, continental or British version of the film. One of the following scenes will give all the effects needed.
    The Tower Bridge of London in ruins. No signs of human life. Sea gulls and crows. The Thames, partly blocked with debris, has overflowed its damaged banks.
    The Eiffel Tower, prostrate. The same desolation and ruin. Brooklyn Bridge destroyed. The tangle of cables in the water. Shipping sunk in the harbour. New York, ruined, in the background.
    A sunken liner at the bottom of the sea.
    A pleasure sea front, Palm Beach or the Lido, Blackpool or Coney Island, in complete and final ruin. A few wild dogs wander through the desolation.
    Oxford University in ruins and the Bodleian Library scattered amidst the wreckage.

THE Central Square in Everytown. It is in ruins. A few ragged street vendors and a primitive market in a corner of the Square. A gigantic shell-hole is in the middle of the Square. A group of people stand about a board on the wall. This is a notice-board like the old Album on which news was written in the Roman Forum. As the world relapses old methods reappear.
    Close shot of this group reading a smudgy cyclostyled notice on the board.
    It reads:

    "Our enemies, defeated on land and sea and in the air, have nevertheless retained a few aeroplanes which are difficult to locate and destroy. These they are using to spread disease, a new fever of mind and body...."

Close up to emphasise date.
    A man in a worn and patched uniform comes out of the Town Hall with a paper in his hand and turns towards the wall. A few people are attracted by his activity. He pastes up a new cyclostyled inscription.
    The inscription, which runs a little askew, reads:
    "The enemy are spreading the Wandering Sickness by aeroplane. Avoid sites where bombs have fallen. Do not drink stagnant water."
    A woman comes out of a house. She is ragged and tired, a pail in her hand. She goes to the gigantic shell-hole in the middle of the Square. The woman descends with her pail. She wants some of the water. A man comes into the picture.
    Man: "Didn't you read the warning? "
    The woman answers with a tired mute "No."
    Man, indicating the water: "Wandering Sickness."
    The woman is struck by instant fear. Then she hesitates. "I have to go half an hour away for spring water. "
    The man shrugs his shoulders and goes. The woman is still hesitating.
    The hospital under the laboratory. A dim dark place. The sick are unattended. One of them - a man in a dirty shirt and trousers - barefooted and haggard - rises, looks about him wildly and darts out.
    The Square, outside the Hospital. The sick man wandering. He stares blankly in front of him. He seeks he knows not what. People in the Square see him and scatter. The woman in the shell-hole discovers the wandering sick man is approaching her. She screams and scrambles away. A group of men and women run away from the sick man.
    A sentry with a rifle. A group of men and women enter the picture.
    Man to sentry: "Don't you see?"
    Woman: "He is carrying infection."
    The sentry does not like his job, but he lifts his rifle. He fires. The wandering man collapses, writhing and lies still.
    The sentry shouts: "Don't go near him. Leave him there!"

    Dr. Harding's laboratory. Harding is at his work bench, assisted by his daughter, Mary. He is struggling desperately to work out the problem of immunity to the Wandering Sickness which is destroying mankind. He is now a man of fifty; he is overworked, jaded, aged. He is working in a partly wrecked laboratory with insufficient supplies. This laboratory has already been shown in the opening part. (The rooms downstairs have been improvised as a hospital, to which early cases of the pestilence are brought.) Harding's clothing is ragged and patched (no white overalls). His apparatus is more like an old alchemist's, it is makeshift and very inefficient. No power is laid on. There is no running water, though there is still a useless tap and a sink. But the brass microscopes are as before. They are difficult things to break. Bottles, crucibles, and such-like hardy stuff have survived, but very little fine glass. No Florence flasks, for example. Some old cans have been utilised. Several of the windows are cracked and have been mended with gummed paper.
    Harding mutters as he works.
    Mary is a girl of 18, dressed in a patched nurse's uniform, with a Red Cross armlet. "Father," she says, "why don't you sleep a little?"
    Harding: "How can I sleep when my work may be the saving of countless lives? - countless lives!"
    A shot is heard without. Harding goes to the window, followed by Mary.
    Camera shooting from Harding's standpoint, showing the dead man with the Wandering Sickness, lying in his blood; Square deserted. A man walks across the scene, elaborately avoids the dead man, and puts a rag over his mouth to protect himself from infection.
    Harding and Mary. Harding says: "And so our sanitation goes back to the cordon and killing! This is how they dealt with pestilence in the Dark Ages."
    He makes a gesture of desperate impotence, shrugging his shoulders and throwing up his hands, and then turns back to his work-bench.
    The room of Richard Gordon, a former air mechanic. It is like all the rooms of this period, shabby, with improvised or worn-out furniture. There is no proper tableware, only a sort of tramp's outfit of gallipots and tins. Richard's sister Janet is at a wood stove cooking a meal. Her movements are slow and spiritless. Richard Gordon, seated in front of an old table, is obviously waiting for the meal. He is deep in thought.
    Instead of serving the meal Janet turns from the stove, walks a few steps and then stares into space. Richard, roused from his thoughts, looks at her with growing terror and rises hurriedly. "What is it, Janet? Your heart?"
    He takes her pulse. Deeply impressed: "I'll put you to bed, sister."
    Janet sullenly silent. She shakes her head. Richard very tenderly tries to induce her to go to bed.

    Return to Harding's laboratory. Harding at his microscope. Mary near him. Harding examines some preparation, and, without looking back, says: "Iodine, please."
    Mary takes a step towards him. A glass or container in her hand. She looks at it and tilts it to ascertain its contents. She is unable to speak because she knows the portent of her answer.
    Harding: "Mary! - iodine, please."
    Mary: "There is no more, father. There is just one drop."
    Harding turns back as if stabbed. "No more iodine?"
    Mary replies with a shake of her head. Harding almost collapses and sits down. "My God!" He buries his head in his hands. His voice almost a sob: "What is the good of trying to save a mad world from its punishment?"
    Mary: "Oh father, if you could only sleep for a time."
    Harding: "How can I sleep? See how they wander out to die."
    He rises and looks at his daughter, deeply moved: "And to think that I brought you into this world."
    Mary: "Even now I am glad to be alive, father."
    Harding pats her shoulder, a quick affectionate gesture. Then he walks up and down in deep mental distress.
    "This is the last torment of this endless warfare. To know what life could do and be - and to be helpless."
    He takes the slip from under the microscope eyepiece and dashes it to the floor in impotent rage.
    He sits down in utter despair.
    Mary makes futile movement to console him. A step on the staircase outside. They both look towards the door.
    Mary: "Richard!"
    Gordon enters. Harding stares at him, fearing his news.
    Gordon : "My sister..."
    Harding: "How - do you - know?"
    Gordon: "Her heart beats fast. She feels faint. And - and - she won't answer."
    Harding says nothing.
    Gordon: "What can I do for her?"
    Harding, pained, silent and beaten.
    Gordon: "I thought - something - might be known."
    Harding does not move. Mary cries: "Oh Janet! - and you, poor dear----"
    She approaches Gordon and Gordon makes a movement as if to warn her that he too may be infected. She does not care. "Richard," she whispers, close to his face.
    Harding rises and goes without a word. It is the doctor's instinct to try and help where everything seems hopeless.

    Gordon's living-room. Janet turns to and fro on her bed. Enter Harding, followed by Richard and Mary. Harding approaches the bed. He pulls back the sheets, listens to Janet's breathing. Then be replaces the sheets and shakes his head. He rises from the bed. Gordon asks a mute question.
    Harding: "No doubt of it. And it need not be. Oh to think of it! There is just one point still obscure. But I cannot even get iodine now - not even iodine! There is no more trade, nothing to be got. The war goes on. This pestilence goes on - unchallenged - worse than the wars that released it."
    Gordon: "Is there nothing to make her comfortable?"
    Harding: "Nothing. There is nothing to make anyone comfortable any more. War is the art of spreading wretchedness and misery. I remember when I was still a medical student, talking to a man named Cabal, about preventing war. And about the researches I would make and the ills I would cure. My God!"
    Harding turns to the door and goes out.
    The ruined and desolate Square as before. Harding crosses it, returning despairfully to his laboratory.
    Gordon's living-room. Mary and Gordon sitting. Atmosphere of hopelessness. Both stare towards the bed. Janet rises. Her face is now ghastly white and her eyes are glassy. She comes towards the two and towards the audience. Mary and Gordon stare at her, horror-stricken, as she passes them. Her face advances to a close-up. She leaves the room. After a second's hesitation, Gordon rises and hurries after his sister. Mary takes a few steps and then sits down.
    The Square. Janet wandering. Gordon reaches her and tries to take her arm, but she shakes him off. They go towards the crowd about the notice-board in front of the Town Hall. The crowd disperses, panic-stricken.
    Janet and Gordon walking towards the sentry. The sentry lifts his rifle. Gordon protects Janet with his body. To sentry: "No! Don't shoot; I will take her out of the town."
    Sentry hesitates. Janet wanders off the picture. Gordon hesitates between the sentry and her and then follows her. Sentry turns after them, still irresolute.
    Janet and Gordon wander through the ruins of Everytown. She goes on ahead feverishly, aimlessly. He follows her. We are thus given a tour through Everytown in the uttermost phase of Collapse. A dead city. Rats flee before them - starveling dogs.
    They pass across a deserted railway station.
    Public gardens in extreme neglect. Smashed notice-boards. Fountains destroyed - railings broken down.
    Suburban road with villas empty and ruinous. In the gardens are bramble thickets and nettle-beds. Janet and Gordon pass the former house of Passworthy, recognisable by the shattered fence.
    Gradually the two figures, following each other, recede, and what follows is seen across wide desolate spaces at an increasing distance.
    Janet drops and lies still. Gordon kneels down beside her.
    At first he cannot believe she is dead. He picks her up in his arms and carries her off. He is seen far away carrying her into a mortuary.
    Hooded figures come out to take her from him - all very far away.
    Mary waiting in Gordon's room. It is now twilight and we see her face very sad and still and pale. She looks towards the door when at last Gordon comes staggering in. He is the picture of misery. "Oh Mary, dear Mary," he cries.
    Mary holds out her arms to him. He clings to her like a child.
    Three dates on the screen.
    1968.
    1969.
    1970.

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