Lights fade up to working with some flickering in the background. Bombs are heard quietly in the background. Chorus assembles themselves closely knit together, each showing different class and family dynamics. Scene starts with a little boy curled up beside his mother wimpering and everyone else completing their stage business with a nervous edge.
Mother: There, there, don't worry my son.
Son: But all the bombs...they're scaring me Mum.
Mother: I know dear but don't worry, everyone's here safe and accounted for.
Son: I wish Dad was.
Mother: (pauses) I do too my son.
Son: Do you think he's okay? Do you think he's alive and warm?
Mother: I'm sure he is. He's a strong, resillient man. There's few more clever than your father.
Son: Ya, that's true. You always say I got his smarts and his cheeky side!
Mother (touseling his hair): That you did, you're just like him in those respects.
[high pitched whistling]
Son: Mum! Mum! What's that horrible noise!?
Mother (trying to protect her son): I'm not sure, I've never heard it before.
Neighbour: 'Tis just a whistler, my boy.
[another whistling sound and continues in the background]
Son: A...a whistler?
Neighbour: Yep, The Germans decided to be sneaky and try and scare everyone by putting a whistle on the tip of their bombs, making it hard for us to tell where it's going to land.
Son: Well I think it's working...
Neighbour: Now son, don't give up hope! They're all just scare tactics. If we all stick together, we'll all make it through.
Son: You really think so?
Neighbour: I know so. (Pause)
Son: Mum, do you think Dad knows about the whistlers and be alright?
Mother: Yes, I believe he does.
[final loud whistling noise]