Defiance

John Patrick Shanley

• Publisher: Theatre Communications Group
• Year: 2007
• ISBN:
  9781559366250
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: American Drama
• Index: Literature

“Defiance is a necessary step in the life of an individual and in the life of a nation.”—John Patrick Shanley

“As thoughtful and probing as its predecessor, Defiance [is] filled with the provocative questions and bristling dialogue for which Mr. Shanley is known... as it wonders about its big, knotty subjects.”—Ben Brantley, The New York Times

Defiance is the “very rich and satisfying” (The Village Voice) second work in John Patrick Shanley’s trilogy that began with Doubt. The play is set in 1971 at Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, where Lt. Col. Morgan Littlefield and his reluctant protégé Capt. Lee King—a young African American officer—clash over issues of race and authority within the Marine Corps, even as the civil rights movement and Vietnam War divide the world outside. In this high-stakes struggle at the top of the ranks, witnessed by the base’s inquisitive Chaplain White and Littlefield’s irreproachable wife Margaret, Shanley has crafted another timely play exploring issues of power and morality within a hallowed institution.

John Patrick Shanley ’s Doubt won the 2005 Pulitzer Prize for Drama and the Tony Award for Best Play, and was chosen as best play of the year by over ten news-papers and magazines. His other plays include Danny and the Deep Blue Sea, Four Dogs and a Bone, Psychopathia Sexualis, and Savage Limbo. He has written extensively for TV and film, including Moonstruck, for which he won an Academy Award for best screenplay.

SCENE 1

Camp Lejeune, North Carolina, spring 1971. We’re 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. He’s in sweat-stained utilities, mud-splashed boots, wearing a haversack and shelter half, carrying an M16. He’s disgusted. He doesn’t speak too loudly, not wanting to be overheard by the brass. He’s 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 don’t care if your leg’s 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 ain’t done yet. (Sound of a very distant Lieutenant Colonel makes him look)

LIEUTENANT COLONEL (Offstage): Standby!

GUNNEY: Now that’s 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. He’s around fifty, wears the insignia of his rank: the silver oak leaf, on the collar of his slightly sweaty but perfectly starched utilities. He’s from Maryland. He’s tough, intelligent, well educated, private. He returns the Gunney Sergeant’s salute.)

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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. You’re 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 don’t 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 don’t care. It don’t make you special. I don’t care if you don’t know why you’re still in uniform. I don’t 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 you’re 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!

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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. It’s officers’ housing. We’re in the living room. There’s a foyer off right, and bit of kitchen off left. It’s 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. She’s attractive, from a good Florida family. A wall phone rings. She answers it.

MARGARET: Hello? Hey, Skipper, where are you? You’re still talking to the chaplain? Why don’t you let that poor man alone! (Listens briefly) I’ve been home for forty minutes. No. (Listens briefly) Morgan, it’s 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 (Offstage): Good morning, ma’am.

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MARGARET (Offstage): Colonel Littlefield isn’t back from services yet, but come on in.

(They enter. Captain Lee King is twenty-seven, from Washington, DC. He’s a serious, reserved, physically powerful man who’s worked hard all his life. He’s wearing the uniform of the day [UD], khakis. He holds his hat under his arm.)

May I take your cover?

(He hands his hat to her.)

CAPTAIN KING: Thank you, ma’am.

MARGARET: Have a seat.

(He sits down. He’s not insecure, but he’d rather be someplace else. Margaret sees this, and doesn’t mind. She’s used to the military.)

CAPTAIN KING: Thank you.

MARGARET: Would you like a glass of water till Morgan gets here?

CAPTAIN KING: No, thank you.

MARGARET: He’ll be here in a minute. How long you been stationed at Camp Lejeune?

CAPTAIN KING: Eighteen months. Mostly with Second Battalion.

MARGARET: And before that?

CAPTAIN KING: Vietnam.

MARGARET: Married?

CAPTAIN KING: No, ma’am.

MARGARET: How many tours in Vietnam?

CAPTAIN KING: Two.

MARGARET: Did Morgan tell me you have a law degree?

CAPTAIN KING: I’ve been serving as a judge advocate on both sides of the table for the last year. Court martials. Just sort’ve fell into it. I don’t have a law degree. Corps doesn’t require it. Just a good knowledge of the Uniform Code of Military Justice.

MARGARET: Business been good?

CAPTAIN KING: Too darn good. That’s why I’m here. Camp’s in bad shape. Colonel wants answers. Not that I have any.

MARGARET: You’re a mustanger, aren’t you?

CAPTAIN KING: Yes, ma’am.

MARGARET: So was Morgan. Always admire that. Up from the ranks.

CAPTAIN KING: If the offer still stands, I would take a glass of water, ma’am.

MARGARET (Sets about doing that): Good. Actually, I have lemonade.

CAPTAIN KING: Water’s fine.

MARGARET: I’d have poured you coffee, but I’m waiting till the Skipper comes to pull out the big guns. Sorry he’s not here. After the church service the . . . You weren’t at the service, were you, Captain?

CAPTAIN KING: No.

MARGARET: Morgan started in talking to the new chaplain . . . Have you met him?

CAPTAIN KING: No, ma’am.

MARGARET: His name is White.

CAPTAIN KING: I’ve seen it posted.

MARGARET: He’s Lutheran. Tell me again, what do the Lutherans believe?

CAPTAIN KING: That they’re not Catholics.

MARGARET: Very good! I do believe you have just summarized every Protestant religion.

CAPTAIN KING: Yes, ma’am.

MARGARET: He seems nice, the chaplain, met him this morning. Morgan’s trying to instill something in the fellow. I’m not sure what. Anyway, that’s why he’s late. I’m sure there’s something you’d rather be doing. (No answer) Talking to the CO’s wife on Sunday. (No answer) You watch football?

CAPTAIN KING: I do not.

MARGARET: You’re better off. I fol...

Table of contents

• BOOKS BY JOHN PATRICK SHANLEY AVAILABLE FROM TCG
• Title Page
• Dedication
• PRODUCTION HISTORY
• CHARACTERS
• Epigraph
• SCENE 1
• SCENE 2
• SCENE 3
• SCENE 4
• SCENE 5
• SCENE 6
• SCENE 7
• Copyright Page