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Quiet Please - Sketch For A Screen Play

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Quiet Please - Sketch For A Screen Play

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Quiet Please - Radio Vault — Quiet Please - Sketch For A Screen Play. Machine-transcribed; use the interactive transcript above to jump the player to any line.

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Enjoy big savings with red hot deals at bonds and albertsons. This week, Signature Select Drumsticks or Thighs, Bone-in Value Packs are 99 cents per pound with membership where applicable. And El Faro's Arches on a Bread, 20 ounces, the Lake Varieties are 299 with Digital Coupon. Plus, get a 3-pound bag of Mandarin for 399 with Digital Coupon. Enjoy fresh and delicious savings every day of the week. Hurry in! These deals won't last! Visit bonds or albertsons.com for more deals and ways to save. Quiet please. Quiet please. The Mutual Broadcasting System presents Quiet Please, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper,

and which features Ernest Chappell. Quiet please, for tonight is called Sketch for a Screenplay. I got to thinking this afternoon about Hollywood. There's a lot of people don't care much about Hollywood. I suppose they got a right to feel any way to monitor it. But me, I always sort of like the place. Not Hollywood, but town, especially. But what people pictures think of as Hollywood. All the way out to Fox and Metro and the Selves and the Kulaks. All the way back to Paramount, Narcao and Columbia. After the Valley, the Universal and Warner's Republic. Tall Hollywood picture people. Even Hollywood itself. I wonder if the Lofors still clutter up the sidewalk outside the yet-time Vine Street. I wonder if the hardest working news boy in the world is still on the corner of Hollywood and Vine.

Wonder if Roland's still at the parking lot back at the equitable. And that bartender at the Derby that always used to put the bite on you for 50 bucks. Hollywood blew off at Christmas time Santa Claus lane with a golden silver tree and the lights. And in the summer when it's 11 o'clock in Hollywood with its three o'clock in the York. That makes a time to have a bottle of cotton plank in the bamboo room. Yeah, and get quite sentimental over Hollywood. Especially when you're not there. And you're not ever going back. I got to thinking about a screenplay this afternoon when I was thinking about Hollywood. No, it is written. I know it never will be written. But I am using myself all I've been known thinking about. Walking over the Harry's office with a batch of pages and a pyarmid lily and it just typed up all nice and neat on the yellow paper. And maybe no gross enamel and foster be strolling back to the writers building,

griping about changes that produce your wanted and bring it back at three o'clock boys. And Harry would be sitting there with his feet on the big desk drinking coke. How many times? How many times? So sit down in a big easy chair with a light in your eyes. And after a while Harry finishes his coke and takes his feet down and shuts his eyes. All right, what you got, Fred? I just got a few pages here. I just, the opening you see. Only a few scenes, but I think it's just the mood of the thing. Go ahead, let's hear it. Read it to me. All right. Long shot, the Chateau Park, summer day. Chilling from a height toward the Chateau itself, which stands at the edge of the woods with the low hills rise against the horizon. And a foreground, there a formal garden in the center of which a fountain plays. It's a marble statue of a Greek goddess. And through the trees behind the Chateau we can dimly see up a sculpture figures.

The Chateau itself is huge, grey, many winded. And it's conical turrets rise bravely against the horizon. Oh, okay, okay, everybody knows what a French chateau looks like. Go ahead with a story. I gotta go to the barbershop. The little breeze in the south moves, respously through the branches of the trees and the haze amid summers on the distant hills. Another scene comes to sound a tune at play. This about kids? Kids? I suppose it is, Harry. And I suppose it is. I remember those summers, those long, happy summers when I was a child. The park in the Chateau were magic places then. And when the twilight fell across the broadwood lands and the tiny light sprang out in the tall winders above us, we used to sit the crevice and clean the fire and roll in the gas bath. And all the pallidance of France with male ghosts were very happy to listen to gathering dust. Paul.

And the grueling blew his horn again and again. But the king was far away. He did not hear. Then met me. And Roland and all the army died in the tassafon to bat. He caught King Schaulaman and just got here the horn of the Poland. No, not late. Hey, Dye. The Roland didn't die. The book says he died. No, Roland didn't die. Did he say? The Colonel says he didn't die. The Colonel says Roland lived forever. Where is it then? Roland waits for the day when France needs you. There you are, come. And the Colonel says that we listen on a night when there's no moon sometime. We can hear Roland sounding his horn. Maybe see the flash of the storm during the hour on the skylight. Oh, do you believe that, Ben? I don't know. Do you call? No, of course I believe that. I have heard the horn. What are you doing there? I have heard it. It is nice to believe that. About the horn? About Roland living in. He's very always to come to the aid of his feet. I would like that. I would like to live always. Not forever, Paul.

That wouldn't be fine. Yes, it would. To help people when they give an out of the horn. That would be fun that way, Fred. I don't want to live forever. No, I don't think anybody really wants to live forever. Not even all, I'm Libby. I remember that afternoon, three of the Sunday Grimoire tree and the sun red and gold beyond the heavens. Children together in the good days before the Great Lane came out of the east. And swallowed up the youth and having a surprise. That all this thing is about just kids. Scene 36, close three sharp, maddened Paul and Fred. I'm wearing my going away clothes in my hand with my police car. I'm tagged with my name and destination. To the early year in the morning. The first chill winds of autumn are sweeping the leaves from the trees in the park and the frost is tucked to the flowers in the palm of garden where we stand before the sighting comes. There are fears and lapen dyes. And this is the vision of my Paul's text. What is his goodbye again?

You will come back next to your wonderful friend. Of course you will come back meddling. It's got time. That's what a new thing. I am not. Fred. Fred. She is stupid. You don't know how I'll miss you, Heather? Oh. Why can't we keep you here always? My mother. You know. I don't wish you could stay here. You come back meddling. You come back Fred. I will, Fred. I promise. Go away, darling. Go away. Please, Paul. Goodbye Fred. Goodbye Paul. Come back. I'll come back. We'll be waiting. I know. Till next summer then. Till next summer. Fred. You won't forget it. Never met it. We love you Fred. And I love you, Madeline. Come back, Noah.

I'll come back to you, Madeline. Will you wait, Fred? You wait for me. I'll be like all I've said. No matter when you come back. You're 100 years from now. I'll be waiting. And over the scene comes the sound of the distant heart. And after the nest and round of roll and protector of France to the striking horn of the mortgaged, it was to take an American child away from the scenes of his happiest years. And said him on his journey heart. And as the two children embrace, wedding each other's faces of their tears. We fade off. And I thought of the next few years. Fade in. We are covering the statue of the brigade. It is all to fulfill the most tearful greeting at the pier.

Close up. A preoccupied, garlandless mother. And close up. And embarrassed. Reoccupied, stranger, call father. And moving shot. A train in the streaking west of the night. And montage. The sad-eyed boy still in the train window were found in playing in a former garden in the sunlight. Clone shaped towers against the evening sky. A girl waving to buy from the iron gates of a chateau in France. A giant figure in our rebrandishing, a golden carpet. And on the soundtrack. Just a distant voice. Come back, Frank. Please love your face. Come back. A hundred years from now. I'll be waiting, Frank. Let me see that script, Frank. Go ahead. Read it, Harry. Inside.

Diploma from the University of Illinois. No evil men by these pleasant and friendly garden. Bachelor of Arts. Seal of the University. Full shot. City room. Daily newspaper. As Fred enters the room, the camera follows him to the desk of the city editor. Where he stops, respectfully. The camera moves in to a close, too shot of Fred and the editor. The editor at last looks up. I was editor at the college paper my last year in school. And I did a column on sports for the advantage. Desolve to typewriter and hands at work. The camera moves in to a close, close up, and we read it. It's my... February. Marching. Desolve to... Close up. Fred at the telephone. Oh, it's in it. I'll see what I can do about it. Desolve to medium shot. Group at bar. Favouring Fred. Fred raises his glass and drinks.

Here's to Hollywood you unlucky people. I would and a million dollars a week. Riding movies. Desolve to... Close up. Fred's hand at a typewriter. Desolve to full shot. Cafe circle theater at night. With searchlight standing up into the sky at the premiere of Fred's first picture success. Great crowds of movie fans and obliatures that start to leave their cars and gradients to theater. Fred in a brand new dinner jacket surrounded by a picture of personality. Walks proudly into the theater. Inse. The clock under the other McKinley building. Great grass, angel of swings back and forth. Greenbackers. Reminder of death and time. And the image of a girl waving goodbye has been... and her voice far away. Desolve in space. 100 years from now. I'll be waiting.

At an insert of a calendar the read September 1939. And double-explosed against it. Marching men in gray uniforms. Stickers die if bombing a road. The man in a rumble gray uniform. Halling in a mob. And voices shouting. Zigg Hale. Zigg Hale. Stop shot of the French tricolor being Lord. News rail shot of a man weeping in the street. Intered poster in the Hollywood office. Poster reads, wanted from murder, Adolf Schickle Groovery. News rail shot. Dream at a uniform before the arch of triumphant Paris. One of the little stash of fat man I crutt put it in. Miss Miley. Double-explosure superimposed the face of a weeping girl. And over the picture the sound of a horn. Echoing from the past of Rance of Art. And again the face of a weeping girl beside a ruin.

Shell, Torn, Chateau, and France. And a word. One word. Way. Way. Now a stock shot of the studio gates closing from the outside. And a quick montage of a raised hand of a train full of soldiers and new, yell-fitting uniforms. A long night of men and a doctor with an eagle. Marching men again and a tower. And airplanes, idling in a broad field. That was the old 501. Had lost some field. The first of the airborne. The men who rode the storm. Bill Ryder and Bill Jardborough. First Lieutenant's. Imperial Billy and Bill Miley. Men with high jump boots and the curl up wings of the parachute. But above the left lost pocket. The tower and hanging face down in your harness and sweating out the ground. And jumping from the mockups and learning how to land. Endless hours packing Paris.

And nights across the state line of Phoenix City beer and shooting galleries in the shoppers, your animal, when the MP showed up with a pick-up. Sweating out the ground on the first jump. The jump master's voice over the roar of the plane. Checking the shoe to the man next to you while the next man tried all the buckles and pedid all the baufos on your pack. And the jump master again. Oh! An eclair of heavy jump boots on the metal floor and been flinging themselves into the green space outside. And the sudden atmosphere of the plane. And then your hands against the side of the door and the jerk next to your spit. Enjoy big savings with red hot deals at Barnes & Albertsons. This week, Signature Select Drumsticks or Thighs, Bowling Value Packs are 99 cents per pound with membership where applicable. And El Faro's Arches on a Bread 20 ounces the lake varieties are 299 with digital coupon. Plus get a 3 pound bag of Mandarin for $3.99 with digital coupon. Enjoy fresh and delicious savings every day of the week.

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but it can't be held your head. No heaviness, no weight, nothing. Greet him. And then the greener is rushing out at you in a sudden vision. The barrels face and the blue bodies. And the ground and the shoot dragging you till you yank, the bottom shrouds and the flooded down. Behind you, throw right at yelling, yell at that harness, you're infantry again. And a good feel of a ton of yelling your hands in the ear of underfoot. And somewhere a horn calling. And slowly, the scene fades out. Long shot. Part of embankation. Set in Ireland. Night. An ice covered ferryboat struggles across the blackout harbor to the end of a pier. And soldiers hurry up the gang bank to the denulated interior of the pier. A voice calls out a man's last name. He answers his first name.

And up the gangway to the bowels of the ship. Jump boots on the companionway letters. Jump boots, dangling from the upper tiers of the bunks. Lights. Long. And great pots of coffee. Desire to. Long shot. Handway. Day. A dozen ships, watering in the bitter north Atlantic swell and a grim gray cruiser standing hardly in the lake. And a horn. Turning dust, here we are, across the evening. I said in Harry's office as he reads the screen, please I dreamed of this afternoon. He looked up the glass, but he doesn't see me in the easy chair with a light from the window in my eyes. I know what Harry sees. Harry sees the boy that looked like him. The happy, talkative kid that was Harry Ginger.

The boy that I last saw here in the office when he was talking about how you see was going to be snow today and excited. And I know what Harry's thinking of. He's thinking about a laughing, talkative young marine carpar who laid one to many landings with the raiders. And a white star of David out there in that island with the name nobody had pronounced. And Harry turns back to the screenplay and reads silently for a while. Now, he looks at me. They won't go for war studies in law print. And I don't say anything for a second. But I think he has to go for war stories, Harry. Yes, there's still a lot of people at Henkkergutton. Go on. Read the screenplay, Harry. Long shot. An airfield in England. Night.

Yes, I remember that. St. Royce, a little far ahead, you can see. Clear. Night. The stars appear. Rosanna jumpsuit up to the helicopter and dies on her reliance. Waiting. Long shot. The end of the morning is airplane. Got to remember that, Jim. I remember the Florida plane caught it with red tanks of ammunition ready to talk. About. They look gray in the half light. Remember, sweaty faces climbing aboard and sitting down on the bucket seat side by side like high-pitched with a little street cover. Not speaking. Tightening your belts. Sweating. Sweating out, particularly off. Medium shot. Control, Tyler. Flaming through the green light flashing through the plane behind us. Long shot. Formation of airplane in flight. Tyler, long planes

and more and more. The sound of a with the sound of bill. And the contrast from the plane to the front is stretching out waiting against the stars like a dust-of-the-lucky weight. Medium shot. Interior. Airplane. Night. A plane that stands up in the darkness. Standard. Who gone? Should you quit me too? The green light goes on from the cockpit. And nobody else around the world will be going over the blackness room and then I jump in the wartime. And God knows what we'll find on the ground. Close up. Out of the blue light. The oil plane. Close up the plane is like racing hands against the door jams. The darkness is sick and heavy. The sweat means our way facing the retired helmet. Thank you for the viewing the way we're gonna see you. The land of phony trips and goes on to the long, so long static life holds the upper right free. The jump is to slashes at the level of the light that is in weight.

From the night jump, I'll be too far away from the rest and the jump is to the elderly holding at least two weight. I'm in prison in the dark. Blackness between heaven and earth. Alone. Alone in the dark, my heart bursting. I shouted in the darkness. But there was no answer. No answer for the murdering of the planes that they faded away in the night. They wrapped itself around me like a cloak. And I gave myself up to dive there in space. And I think I prayed. And I heard the sound of a horn blowing in the sky. My chest and my chest and the tree and a crater blanking its candle for me. I deserve to be in shock. I sterly don't. From a tank of mud and a rush of man slowly rises to his feet. I got on with urgent orders somehow.

And so I raised my hip to redone it. Hello, shot. German soldier. He lies half-hidden behind a tree. And his luring is rifle after firing a shot. He waves to other soldiers and I've seen. From shot, cover cover. The American throws himself behind a fallen tree. He appeared anxiously through the bushes. Montage, German soldiers. In a series of short flashes we had served German soldiers. Rifles and machine guns poised completely surrounding the American. From shot, the American. He looks out from his concealment searching the area carefully. Suddenly there is the crackle of a twig and he lives to his feet just tummy gunner-bollettie. Yes, of course, Harry. Yeah, bastard. I am out of the hour. Paul and Levin. That's too much of a coincidence, Frank.

It was Paul and Levin. Where in front? We said we'd wait, Frank. We have not changed much. We're not from an cruise that's a little more room. And the cross of the way to the close to the room. We were down that way. Of course, old boy. Will I say to you? You don't like it, you? I like this. Everyone's recalling his eyes. I was wanting to be able to close to the surrounded area. I'm afraid. But I hope you fell. The way needed your friends. Paul, took my hand and smiled at me. You heard me on a roll on track. I've really degreeed many times, Paul. We have not forgotten how we talked about Holland. No, I haven't forgotten. How did you find me? Don't you like this nice of Trace, Frank? I know. This is the woods behind the shed. Don't worry, all is.

I wouldn't have recognized. Well, with that, come on, Indian, Frank. Remember? I remember. Come, Frank. We have got to get you out of here. Well, but, David Germans. They can't hurt us all, boy. This is our home. Don't you remember? Paul, I've played this way. Has it been... And rough? Yes. It has been rough, Frank. Oh, Frank, we must hurry. Medium shot. The woods. With the three of the struggling trucks. We have to pass the woods with clean and springtime. Paul ahead, then Madden, then me. More and more pathways, some of them knew, some of them get traces of footprints through the woods. My two friends always ahead. Always leaving. You came back. Of course I came back, Madden. We knew you wouldn't forget us. Come on, come on. Then I followed again. Pricyre German patrols not too far away from us,

but we went on and on. Till I crossed all sorts of directions. I said, how much farther? Paul's not there. This is as far as we can go with you, Fred. But what? But what do I do now? You came back to our faith. You want to know what to do? Well, no, but... Madden, come Madden. Goodbye, Fred, up at the port hall. Can I see you again? Yes. You'll see us again. Oh, Fred. How Madden kissed me. It was growing dark again in the road that led past the Chateau was directly in front of me. I knew my way from here. But Madden kissed me in the twilight there. And again, I heard the distant call of the horn. And I turned away from her and went out. And she waved months when I looked back on her.

And I knew my children. And then she and Paul were gone. And I knew at last, Harry, why they couldn't go any farther with me. Read the next scene, Harry. Close shot. Claring. Too brave to a rude headboard. The camera moves into a close-up and we read the inscription. In Madden, the clove, French resistance fighter executed by order of the German combat. Paul, the clove, French resistance fighter executed. You can't do that, Fred. There's one more scene, Harry. The camera moves up and over the two graves. To what the... We read the inscription on this handboard. Private, Fred Arthur.

American parachute. Gilled in a single handed attack on the headquarters of the German combat tank. And over the scene comes the sound of children at play. Madden and Paul. And me. And me. And me. And me. You have listened to Quietly, which is written and directed by Willis Cooper. A man who spoke to you was Ernest Chappell. And Robert Stavisky was Madden.

Who was Frank Thomas. Harry was played by James Monk's. The original music required please as you was composed and played by Albert Perman. Now for a word about next week, here is our writer-director, Willis Cooper. My story for you next week is called... Sandra, not to know. It's a confrontation that you already know. Half of it, if you don't know the rest of it, you will. Next week. And so until next week of this time, I am Quietly Yours, Ernest Chappell. Friends, March is Red Cross time. The time when your American Red Cross asks your cooperation and support. The Red Cross has three major responsibilities this coming year.

Disaster relief and rehabilitation, a national blood program so that the whole blood and its derivatives may eventually be made available free to all. And services to veterans and their families. But Red Cross services will not end there. You'll find the Red Cross lending a hand and building up health and ensuring the safety of the candidate. Teaching simple bedside care, bringing the ways of good nutrition to expect the mothers, veterans' brides, the blind and the deaf, as well as others in the community. Teaching how to give temporary relief to the injured, how to rescue a person from drowning, how to avoid accidents, connoisseur and everyday experience. These are traditional Red Cross services offered in your name. Remember, in all it does, the Red Cross depends on you. Give generously and give to the 1948 Red Cross client. This program comes from New York, the System You To All Broadcasting System.

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