Table of Contents
BOOKS BY JOHN PATRICK SHANLEY AVAILABLE FROM TCG
Defiance
Dirty Story and Other Plays
INCLUDES:
Dirty Story
Wheres My Money?
Sailors Song
Doubt
(A Parable)
This play is dedicated to August Wilson, a great American playwright
PRODUCTION HISTORY
Defiance was originally produced by the Manhattan Theatre Club (Lynne Meadow, Artistic Director; Barry Grove, Executive Producer) in New York City, opening on February 9, 2006. It was directed by Doug Hughes; the set design was by John Lee Beatty, the costume design was by Catherine Zuber, the lighting design was by Pat Collins, the original music and sound design were by David Van Tieghem; the production stage manager was James Fitzsimmons. The cast was as follows:
| LIEUTENANT COLONEL |
| MORGAN LITTLEFIELD | Stephen Lang |
| MARGARET LITTLEFIELD | Magaret Colin |
| CAPTAIN LEE KING | Chris Chalk |
| CHAPLAIN WHITE | Chris Bauer |
| GUNNEY SERGEANT | Trevor Long |
| PRIVATE FIRST CLASS EVAN DAVIS | Jeremy Strong |
CHARACTERS
Lieutenant Colonel Morgan Littlefield
Margaret Littlefield
Captain Lee King
Chaplain White
Gunney Sergeant
Private First Class Evan Davis
TIME
Spring 1971
PLACE
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina
Herein lies the tragedy of the age: not that men are poorall men know something of poverty; not that men are wickedwho is good? Not that men are ignorantwhat is Truth? Nay, but that men know so little of men.
W.E.B. DU BOIS
We are the same people, only further from home.
LAWRENCE FERLINGHETTI
SCENE 1
Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, spring 1971. Were in front of the unseen H&S Company barracks. The Gunney Sergeant, twenty-eight but looks thirty-five, comes out and walks downstage. He surveys the platoon/audience. Hes in sweat-stained utilities, mud-splashed boots, wearing a haversack and shelter half, carrying an M16. Hes disgusted. He doesnt speak too loudly, not wanting to be overheard by the brass. Hes a lifer from Florida.
GUNNEY: A marine will be in jail tonight because he asked me a question. I gave him the lawful order to mount up and he asked me, Why? That was the cherry on the cake for me. Eighteen years I have been in the corps and that was the goddamn cherry on the cake. This is the most sorry unsquared-away field exercise I have participated in for the term of my enlistment, gentlemen. (Points) Get up, Conroy! (Reacts to a comment) I dont care if your legs broke. (Another man gets his attention) You got somethin to say, Lance Corporal Wiggins? Cause I WILL have you put inside the fence. Correctional Custody is doing bookoo business today courtesy of Headquarters & Service Company. Two men so far. And the day aint done yet. (Sound of a very distant Lieutenant Colonel makes him look)
LIEUTENANT COLONEL (Offstage): Standby!
GUNNEY: Now thats the goddamn battalion commander, you understand? Get ready to look like marines or I WILL have you busted down to basic insignificant subatomic particles. Stand by.
(The Gunney Sergeant walks smartly to the side, turns away from us, assumes the parade rest position, legs apart, hands clasped behind. Four offstage Sergeants at different distances cry out in turn:)
SERGEANT 1 (Offstage): Platoon!
SERGEANT 2 (Offstage): Platoon!
SERGEANT 3 (Offstage): Platoon!
SERGEANT 4 (Offstage): Platoon!
GUNNEY: Company!
(A Captain can be heard in the distance:)
CAPTAIN (Offstage): Battalion!
GUNNEY AND OFFSTAGE VOICES: TENTION!
(The Gunney Sergeant snaps to attention, saluting. Lieutenant Colonel Morgan Littlefield enters. Hes around fifty, wears the insignia of his rank: the silver oak leaf, on the collar of his slightly sweaty but perfectly starched utilities. Hes from Maryland. Hes tough, intelligent, well educated, private. He returns the Gunney Sergeants salute.)
GUNNEY: All present and accounted for, sir!
(Littlefield looks over the unseen troops. He comments unfavorably and publicly on one man after another:)
LITTLEFIELD: You. Youre at attention, Marine. How bout getting those feet at a forty-five-degree angle? Unbloused boot. Is that a standard issue T-shirt, Private? I dont think so. Halfway to a goddamn turtleneck. I see it again, it will cost you. You. With the vomit. Fall out and see the corpsman. (More generally) This company is a disgrace to the Sixth Marines. You are not combat ready. You do not have your shit together. I do not like you. Now hear this. There were two racial incidents during the course of these ten days in the field. I WILL NOT COUNTENANCE RACIAL INCIDENTS IN MY BATTALION! Not in my wigwam! Do you understand? The five marines responsible for these incidents face a general court. They WILL go to jail. We are having an attitude problem, gentlemen. Due to some bad apples. Fully one-third of this battalion is composed of men who have returned from service in Vietnam. I want you to know. I dont care. It dont make you special. I dont care if you dont know why youre still in uniform. I dont care how short you are. You will stand tall or you will pay the price. And as for this racial nonsense, it matters to me not at all if youre black, white, blue or stupid. You are marines. You are green in the eyes of the corps. And you will meet the standard of the corps. Or get eighty-sixed. Liberty for this weekend is suspended. Company commanders will carry out squadbay inspections followed by junk-on-the-bunk inspections of all barracks on Saturday at sixteen-hundred hours. And then I will be walking through! Troops will be dismissed by company. Gunney!
GUNNEY: Yes, sir!
LITTLEFIELD: Get these men to work!
GUNNEY: Yes, sir!
(Littlefield strides off. The Gunney Sergeant faces his troops.)
Fall out!
(The lights fade.)
SCENE 2
The Littlefield home. Its officers housing. Were in the living room. Theres a foyer off right, and bit of kitchen off left. Its a clean, generic place made hospitable with flowers and books. At the lights come up, Margaret Littlefield is setting the coffee table for tea. The tea set is warm and personal. Margaret, in her early forties, wears a sundress. Shes attractive, from a good Florida family. A wall phone rings. She answers it.
MARGARET: Hello? Hey, Skipper, where are you? Youre still talking to the chaplain? Why dont you let that poor man alone! (Listens briefly) Ive been home for forty minutes. No. (Listens briefly) Morgan, its Sunday, the day of rest? (The doorbell rings) The doorbell just rang. Probably. Well, hurry up then! (Hangs up the phone as the doorbell rings again) On the way!
(She goes off right. She lets someone in. We hear her and a guest, offstage:)
Good morning, Captain.
CAPTAIN KING
