Little Eagles

Rona Munro

• Publisher: Nick Hern Books
• Year: 2019
• Print ISBN: 9781848421462
• eBook ISBN: 9781788501460
• Topic: Literature
• Subtopic: British Drama
• Index: Literature

Fifty years after Yuri Gagarin's first orbit around the Earth, Little Eagles tells the fascinating and little-known story of Sergei Korolyov, chief designer and unsung hero of the Soviet space programme.

Under Korolyov's leadership the 'little eagles' of the USSR beat the Americans in the early stages of the space race, achieving a series of firsts, including the first human in space.

Rona Munro's gripping play illuminates the life and work of a brilliant engineer who struggled to meet the military demands of his ruthless political masters, whilst devoting as much time as possible to his real passion, exploring outer space.

Little Eagles was first staged by the Royal Shakespeare Company at Hampstead Theatre, London, in 2011.

ACT ONE

Scene One

Kolyma Gulag, 1938.

STALIN stands high above the frozen steppes.

STALIN. Comrades.

Our country is attacked from within. Only the most naive among you can doubt that our enemies are right in the heart of our great nation, like rats in a barrel of wheat. We all know that the agents of all the bourgeois countries prey upon each other, sewing war and creating discord inside each other’s borders. We know too that these same bourgeois countries consider us, the Soviet people, to be their greatest enemy. Of course they have sent their agents, their spies among us. Who can doubt it?

And even as we struggle against this foreign disease we still have failed to root out every germ of our own illnesses, Trotskyites and other double-dealers are living amongst us.

As STALIN speaks, the GULAG WORKERS enter one by one. The Gulag is a frozen wasteland, an icy, open-cast gold mine. It’s just after sunset. The GULAG WORKERS are scraping at the icy earth. They are all sick, very weak.

Some have accused our loyal agents of using excessive physical pressure against those who have been arrested. Some have even said that these faithful comrades have behaved like criminals themselves. But a party directive, made in 1937, indicated such force could be used in exceptional cases. I ask those who criticise this action to tell us how otherwise we are to defend ourselves against blatant enemies of the people. Enemies who, when interrogated by humane methods, defiantly refuse to turn over the names of co-conspirators. Enemies who refuse for months on end to provide any evidence. Enemies who try to thwart the unmasking of co-conspirators still at large, and who thereby continue, even from prison, to wage a struggle against the Soviet regime. The use of force requires courage but our experience has taught us no other method can produce results. The defence of the Soviet people demands all our strength.

There is no other case to answer.

What is done is done by the will of the people as all their actions demonstrate.

STALIN exits but his presence remains onstage in some visible form.

One by one the GULAG PRISONERS stop working, some collapsing altogether, others struggling to continue.

One of them, KOROLYOV, looks up at the sky. He smiles. The worker beside him, an OLD MAN, sees him.

OLD MAN. Who’s up there?

KOROLYOV. Venus. The evening star. Close and bright in the blue dusk. You can see the shape of her.

OLD MAN. You got a biscuit, comrade?

KOROLYOV. What?

OLD MAN. They fed you, there was none left for an old man, I couldn’t reach it in time. Were there biscuits? I’ll lick the crumbs off your fingers, comrade, anything.

Something sweet. I’d give my soul for something sweet on my tongue, comrade.

KOROLYOV. There’s never any biscuits, you old fool.

I’ve nothing.

Two GUARDS drag on another WORKER; an execution. They position him and then aim their guns. The DOCTOR follows them on.

DOCTOR. Wait…! I didn’t mean…

The CONDEMNED MAN raises his arms to STALIN.

CONDEMNED MAN. Long live Comrade Stalin!

GUARD ONE (meaning it). Well said, comrade!

They shoot him.

They turn to the DOCTOR. The DOCTOR is in her late twenties. She has never seen anyone shot before.

You were saying.

DOCTOR. I didn’t mean… I didn’t mean…

GUARD TWO. You said he was dead.

DOCTOR. I didn’t mean…

GUARD ONE. You said he was as good as dead already.

DOCTOR. I didn’t…!

GUARD TWO. You said,

(Looks at notes.) ‘If he’s under sentence of death you might as well shoot him now and get it over with…’

GUARD ONE. ‘…it’d be kinder.’

That’s what you said.

GUARD TWO. And he was under sentence of death. So we did.

GUARD ONE (pushing paperwork at her). Sign.

GUARD TWO. We did your kindness for you.

GUARD ONE. Sign.

GUARD TWO. Put your name to it. Put your name to your recommendation, as medical officer in charge.

GUARD ONE. Go on, sign.

They’re closing in on the DOCTOR, intimidating her.

GUARD TWO. Sign it!

GUARD ONE. Put your name on the paper, comrade!

KOROLYOV (to the DOCTOR). They can’t make you do that.

DOCTOR. What?

KOROLYOV. Someone needs to be responsible, for the paperwork, death must be recorded, execution quotas must be precise, they’ve acted without paperwork…

GUARD ONE silences him. A vicious blow.

GUARD TWO. Sign.

The DOCTOR signs.

DOCTOR. What I said… What I meant… there is only enough medicine to treat one person… I only have enough to save one of them… but no one should die from this disease, no one deserves that death… it’s too cruel…

GUARD ONE. So treat them.

DOCTOR. I only have enough for one person!

GUARD TWO. So pick one!

DOCTOR. We have to requisition supplies! I need you to contact your superior officers and tell them we need more supplies!

GUARD ONE (to GUARD TWO). When did she get here?

GUARD TWO. I’m guessing yesterday.

GUARD ONE (to DOCTOR). You are the last new, clean and healthy thing whose feet will break the dirty snow here till next May. No drugs. No daylight. No escape…

(Moving in on her.) Nothing else sweet and soft and fresh for a thousand miles…

DOCTOR. Stay away from me! I’ll report you, comrade.

GUARD ONE. I don’t think so, it’s a long way to Moscow, sweetheart.

GUARD TWO (warning). Pieter Nikolyavich…

GUARD ONE. Pick one and save his life. Just make sure it’s worth saving.

GUARD TWO. Yeah, the bastards have got to be able to work, that’s why they’re here.

GUARD ONE (calling out to GULAG WORKERS). Hey! We’ve got one dose of the life-saving shit that’ll stop you shitting your souls out your arse. One dose for a worker. Who’s fit to work?

Some of the GULAG WORKERS call out, stumbling to their feet.

Well, will you look at that? It’s a medical miracle, they have all made a miraculous recovery!

(To GUARD TWO.) Move them out to break the new site.

GUARD TWO. Move.

Starts pushing the GULAG WORKERS out, clearing away the dead body.

GUARD ONE. Pick one. Make sure he’s worth saving. You’re the angel of life and death. Enjoy.

DOCTOR. You have the fever already.

The DOCTOR is left with KOROLYOV, the OLD MAN and another GULAG WORKER. It is bitter cold. Only KOROLYOV is fit to speak, the other two...

Table of contents

• Cover
• Title page
• Contents
• Original Production
• Dedication
• Author’s Note
• Characters
• Little Eagles
• About the Author
• Copyright and Performing Rights Information