How I Filmed the War Part 22

"Well, sir, it was like this. When that sh.e.l.l burst I dived into a dug-out, and was quite all right. Then another sh.e.l.l burst and struck the entrance, smas.h.i.+ng it in. I have been all this time trying to get out. Then I lost my way and--well, sir, here I am. But your camera case is spoilt." So ended his adventure.

Thinking that the films I had obtained of the Somme fighting should be given to the public as quickly as possible, I suggested to G.H.Q.--and they fully agreed--that I should return to England without delay. So packing up my belongings I returned to London next day.

Little time was lost in developing and printing the pictures, and the Military authorities, recognising what a splendid record they presented of "The Great Push," had copies prepared without delay for exhibition throughout the length and breadth of the land; in our Dependencies over seas, and in neutral countries. They were handled with wonderful celerity by Mr. Will Jury, a member of the War Office Committee, and put out through the business organisation over which he so ably presides. It is sufficient here to record the deep and abiding impression created by the appearance of the films on the screen. People crowded the theatres to see the pictures; thousands were turned away; and it has been estimated that the number of those who have seen these Official War Films must run into many millions.

[Ill.u.s.tration: THE GERMANS MAKE A BIG COUNTER ATTACK AT LA BOISSELLE AND OVILLERS. JULY 3RD AND 4TH, 1916]

[Ill.u.s.tration: MEN OF SCOTLAND RUs.h.i.+NG A MINE CRATER AT THE DEADLY "HOHENZOLLERN REDOUBT"]

The Somme Film has proved a mighty instrument in the service of recruiting; the newspapers still talk of its astounding realism, and it is generally admitted that the great kinematograph picture has done much to help the people of the British Empire to realise the wonderful spirit of our men in the face of almost insuperable difficulties; the splendid way in which our great citizen army has been organised; the vastness of the military machine we have created during the last two and a half years; and the immensity of the task which still faces us.

His Majesty the King has declared that "the public should see these pictures"; and Mr. Lloyd George, after witnessing a display of the film, sent forth the following thrilling message to the nation: "Be up and doing! See that this picture, which is in itself an epic of self-sacrifice and gallantry, reaches every one. Herald the deeds of our brave men to the ends of the earth. This is _your_ duty."

A thrilling message truly, and I am proud indeed to think that I have been permitted to play my part in the taking and making of this wonderful film.

CHAPTER XVI

EDITING A BATTLE FILM

The Process Described in Detail--Developing the Negative--Its Projection on the Screen--Cutting--t.i.tling--Joining--Printing the Positive--Building Up the Story--It is Submitted to the Military Censors at General Headquarters--And After Being Cut and Approved by Them--Is Ready for Public Exhibition.

In view of the immense and widespread interest aroused by the appearance of the Somme Film, it may perhaps be permissible to depart for a spell from the narration of my story, in order to explain briefly, for the benefit of those interested, how such a picture is prepared, and the various processes through which it must necessarily pa.s.s before it is ready for public exhibition.

The process is technically known as "editing," and it must be admitted that this part of the work more nearly approaches the art of the newspaper editor than any other I know. Indeed, I am not sure that the functions of the film editor--at least in the case of a picture such as the Somme Film--do not call for a greater exercise of discretion, diplomacy and tact; for so many interests have to be taken into account; so much has to be left out, for so much is at stake.

Time and thought is doubly intensified in editing or cutting up the film in all its various scenes and a.s.sembling them in their right order with suitable sub-t.i.tles. Immediately films arrive in London they are sent by the War Office to the works, and there in a long dark-room, with many compartments, the film is wound upon wooden frames, about three feet by four feet. Each section as it is unwound from the roll is numbered by a perforated machine, to save the unnecessary handling that would otherwise be caused if one had to wade through all the small sections to join in the original lengths in which they are received.

The frames are then taken into the developing-room, where they are placed in tanks of developing mixture, warmed to a temperature of about sixty-five degrees. It is there that the technique of a developing expert a.s.serts itself; he can either make or mar a film. During development the picture is carefully rinsed, and eventually it is ready for fixing. It is taken out, washed in a bath of pure water, and then dropped into an acid fixing bath and there allowed to remain until fixation is complete, usually a matter of about fifteen minutes.

The films are then taken to the was.h.i.+ng-room, where they are placed in huge tanks, taking from fifty to one hundred frames, and each one holding one hundred and twenty feet of films. Jets of water run continually over them, and in an hour they are taken out and sent to the drying-room, where the film is rewound whilst wet upon very large drums, about thirty feet long and seven feet in diameter. An electric motor is then started, and the drum revolves at an ever-increasing speed. Drum after drum is loaded in the same way, until the whole of the film is in position and the whirling continues until the negative is perfectly dry.

Cleanliness in every possible respect is absolutely essential during the process of development, until the film is dry once more. The most minute speck of dust or foreign matter might adhere to the wet emulsion permanently disfiguring it. Therefore to avoid this the utmost care must be maintained throughout, and the negative is now ready to be projected on the screen for the first time in order to see that it is technically perfect in quality, and to decide upon the possibilities of a big feature film, or a series of short ones.

For simplicity's sake we will a.s.sume that we are dealing with a subject such as the Battle of the Somme, approximately five thousand feet in length. As the film is projected, notes are taken of each scene in strict rotation. The negative, as in the ordinary process of photography, is quite the reverse to the film shown in the picture theatre. The black portions of the picture as we see it on the screen are white, and all whites are black. It therefore calls for a highly trained eye to be able to follow the film.

Only now do I find out whether the scenes I have taken live up to my expectations. Sometimes yes--sometimes no. One great drawback is that the sounds are not there! When the projection is finished the whole of the negative is taken to the cutting and joining-room. I take every reel, and each scene is cut out separately and t.i.tled by means of a label fastened to the section by an elastic band.

So the process goes on until I have the whole of the film cut up and registered. I often go through each scene again separately and closely scrutinise it, cutting out all blemishes, black stops, uninteresting sections of the scene, and many other faults which unavoidably present themselves. Before going further I should say that the film is "taken"

in lengths of four hundred feet, and they are always kept at that length and in a separate tin box. Even when they are cut up the sections go back into the same tin. Each box is taken in turn and numbered one, two, three, four, five, six, and so on. Number one contains ten sections, representing ten scenes. Each is labelled and every t.i.tle is copied on a sheet of foolscap, and each section numbered and credited to box one.

The process continues in this way until the whole negative is registered.

Meantime I am mentally building up my film story. In story form it must grip the interest of the general public, and yet I have to keep to strict military correctness. I think of my main t.i.tle. That in itself is a great thing. It has to epitomise the story of the whole film. It has to be short and it must "hold." The t.i.tle once decided upon, the first reel must deal with preparatory action. I then take the lists prepared as described and call for my sections. For instance, number twenty section, box fourteen; number twelve section, box six; and so on, gradually building up the first reel. The sub-t.i.tles must be appealing and concise, and in phraseology that can be easily understood by all.

Eventually reel number one is finished. All the sections are joined together, with s.p.a.ces marked for the t.i.tles. The same process continues with the other reels. Number two must finish their story so far as preparatory action goes. You are then ready for the thrill, and the harder you can hit that thrill into reels three and four the greater the ultimate success of the film. Reel five finishes the story. But after seeing a battle film through full of suffering and agony, as it unavoidably must be to be genuine, you must not leave the public with a bitter taste in their mouth at the end. The film takes you to the grave, but it must not leave you there; it shows you death in all its grim nakedness; but after that it is essential that you should be restored to a sense of cheerfulness and joy. That joy comes of the knowledge that in all this whirlpool of horrors our lads continue to smile the smile of victory. Therefore the film must finish with a touch of happiness to send you home from the picture theatre with a light heart--or at least as light a heart as circ.u.mstances permit.

The film is now edited, and it goes into the printer's hands. A positive print is made from it on film stock, and after the printing the copies are returned to the dark-room and the process of developing is gone through again, as in the case of a negative.

The print is then dried and joined up in its right order, and so divided that it makes five reels. The t.i.tles by this time have been corrected from the military point of view by the War Office, and are printed for insertion in their appropriate position. The length of reading matter controls the length of the t.i.tle to be printed. In some instances it will take ten seconds to read a t.i.tle. Ten feet of film is therefore necessary for insertion between the scenes to explain them. In other cases three feet of t.i.tling suffices.

The film is then shown to the War Office officials, and once they have approved it, it is packed in a safe and sent to General Headquarters in France. Here it is again projected in a specially constructed theatre, before the chief censor and his staff, and it may happen that certain incidents or sections are deleted in view of their possible value to the enemy. These excisions are carefully marked and upon the return of the film to London those sections are taken out and kept for future reference. The film is now ready for public exhibition.

CHAPTER XVII

THE HORRORS OF TRONES WOOD

Three Times I Try and Fail to Reach this Stronghold of the Dead--Which Has Been Described as "h.e.l.l on Earth"--At a Dressing Station Under Fire--Smoking Two Cigarettes at a Time to Keep Off the Flies--Some Amusing Trench Conversations by Men who had Lost Their Way--I Turn in for the Night--And Have a Dead Bosche for Company.

I have just come from England after seeing the Somme Film well on its way to the public. It has caused a great sensation. I really thought that some of the dead scenes would offend the British public. And yet why should they? It is only a very mild touch of what is happening day after day, week after week, on the b.l.o.o.d.y plains of France and Belgium.

b.l.o.o.d.y? Yes, inevitably so. There never was such dearly bought land since creation. The earth in the Somme district has been soaked with the blood of men. Sit out on a field a mile or two from our front line any morning early, when the mist is just rising. Sit out there on the ground which our boys have fought for and won. The place reeks with the horrible stench of countless decaying bodies, and every minute adds to their number.

But the British public did not object to these realistic scenes in the film. They realised that it was their duty to see for themselves. They had been told by the press; they had been told by Parliament; they had been told by lecturers what was happening, but to no purpose. They must be shown; they must see with their own eyes. And the kinematograph camera performed this service. Has it justified itself? I put that question to all who have seen the film. What effect did it have upon you? Did you realise till you saw it what this vast battle-front was like? Did you realise what our Army was doing; how our wonderful soldiers--your husbands, your sons, your brothers--were driving the Huns back; how they were going to their death with a laugh upon their faces and a cigarette between their lips, fighting and dying like true Britons? That those who came back wounded and broken still had that smile?

Yes: the truth has at last dawned upon you. With that knowledge new resolutions were born within you; resolutions that bade you never to slack for an instant in your endeavour to bring success to our arms.

Trones Wood! That name had been drummed into my ears for days. It seemed to have a fascination for me. I asked several men to describe the place.

"Quite impossible, sir; there baint anything like it on earth, and if h.e.l.l is at all like it then I have been there. It's dead; just dead--dead--dead! And the smell--awful."

"Is Fritz strafing there much?"

"Yes, sir, he's at it all day: there's not room for a cat to hide in, so why Fritz is dropping his souvenirs there heaven knows; I don't."

From the description the place seemed rather satisfactory from a scenic point of view, so I made up my mind to try and film it, as I wanted scenes of heavy bombardment which I could get if Fritz was concentrating upon the wood, for the Hun is a tolerably safe person to deal with if he has a target to fire at; he is so methodical.

Going up by my car as far as the top of Camoy Valley, I left it there near a dressing station.

[Ill.u.s.tration: FILMING THE KING DURING HIS VISIT TO FRANCE IN 1916. HE IS ACCOMPANIED BY PRESIDENT POINCARe, SIR DOUGLAS HAIG, GENERAL JOFFRE AND GENERAL FOCH]

"Strafing!" I was out for "strafing," and by all appearances I was likely to get it hot and strong before long. I had only just stopped when a sh.e.l.l came hurtling overhead, falling about one hundred and fifty yards behind the dressing station. I went over to a doctor who was tending some wounded men--our own and Germans.

"Has Fritz been sending you these souvenirs very often?" I enquired.

The doctor rose, and mopping his forehead, grinned and replied: "Yes; the blighter won't let us alone. Why doesn't he play cricket? He must know this is Red Cross. That sign there," pointing to a large Red Cross lying on the ground, "is large enough to be seen by the men in Mars.

Only this morning he put one bang through the roof of our dug-out, rewounding a lot of our chaps lying there. By the way, are you leaving your car there?"

"Yes," I replied.

"Well, you had better say good-bye to it; several of our ambulances have been strafed there."

"Well," I said, "can't be helped; it must take its chance. I'm going to take a few scenes of you at work. Where did these Bosches come from?"