Mrs Macbeth lectures pupils

MRS MACBETH:
Now, as I was saying before being yet again waylaid by indolence, you are all very aware of the horrific events of the last few days. Quite certainly, I expect that the numerous absentees can mostly be explained by unforseen circumstances as a result of the bombing. We, in bonnie Scotland, were not expecting these foul Nazis to bother with us, but they have, and since they have, we can only make do as best we can, in the true spirit of our Scottish ancestors. (Suddenly fierce and threatening, spittle flying from her mouth) But do not, I repeat, DO NOT, make the mistake of thinking that because a few lousy incendiary devices managed to make their way from a few Nazi aircraft and happened to hit a few factories and blow up some buildings... do not for one moment assume that this mild devastation, and it is mild by comparison to other parts of Britain, is a license for the fatuous and perfidious, yes, William McFadden, I’m looking at you, to take advantage of potential disorganization and neglect your scholarly duties. Let me assure all of you who are here, that those who should be here and are not will, with martial efficiency, be discovered and dealt with. Unless you’ve been injured by the bombs or crushed by the troop train; unless you are personally holding the house up, you will be here. This, you snotty lot, is a time of war, a time for old battle axes to flourish... They may blow up the factories, but they cannot destroy the discipline with which we build new ones, better ones. You are the future soldiers, nurses and engineers of this land. Do you suppose we could build a tank if we hadn’t gone to school. You can bet your strumpet sister’s silk stockings that little Nazi children are going to school - and paying attention. If you think the Nazis are the worst that can happen to you, it’s merely an illusion you harbour because you’ve miraculously remained in my good books. Believe me when I tell you that nobody suffers as much when school closes down as you do.

(Cut to quiet girl at back of the line. She looks terrified and is snivelling)

MRS MACBETH:
You, at the back. You must be Sheila Fowls? Well, girl, are you Sheila Fowls?

(Cut to Sheila’s lachrymose nod)

MRS MACBETH:
Speak up, girl. Bombs have been going off.

SHEILA:
Yes, Mrs Macbeth.

MRS MACBETH:
Right, you lot, Sheila is an evacuee from London, who has been sent to us for good keeping. She is separated from her parents, who have, quite probably, already fallen in one of the recent air-raids. So I expect you to help her get on with it. For when all is said and done, we want her to report well on us to whichever orphanage is kind enough to take her in. Isn’t that right, Sheila?

(Cut to Sheila looking catatonic)

MRS MACBETH:
There you are, she understands... The more observant amongst you might have noticed that even our little school was thought sufficiently important by Nazi bombers. Fortunately, they are Nazis and, as such, prone to getting things wrong, which is why our beloved school is still standing. Unfortunately, the school bell has martyred itself for the cause. Thus, the bell I’m holding in my hand (demonstrates bell)... see it, remember it... it is your new school bell. When I ring it, I want you to, as usual, march in an orderly fashion to the classroom. And not a word. William McFadden, I’m watching you.

(Holds up the bell, pauses, finally rings it.)