Hey, Halphen... Going to Epernay?
- When? - In half an hour.
In your truck? Give me a ride.
- Sure... Josephine? - Of course!
- You're not the only one. - Big deal!
Say, Maréchal... You have to take up a staff officer.
He's picked the wrong time.
- Josephine again? - Yeah, Josephine.
Where will all that get you?
She'll just have to wait.
Liquor kills! Liquor drives you crazy!
The squadron leader drinks it!
Captain de Boeldieu. Staff officer, division...
Do you know this photo, Mr. Maréchal?
Sure. Ricord took it with me.
And where can I find Mr. Ricord?
- On leave. - Of course.
This gray smudge worries me...
Here, just below the road.
- That's not a road, it's a canal. - No, a railway.
Such unanimity honors our aerial cameras.
It was a foggy day.
I'd like to resolve this enigma.
I'll request a plane.
I'll go get ready, sir.
Flying suit or fur jacket?
No preference. Flying suits smell, fur jackets shed.
Get me the fighter squadron.
Take a car to the sugar refinery.
I just shot down a Caudron fighter.
If they're officers,
invite them for lunch.
Freisler...
make us one of your famous fruit punches
to celebrate the downing of my twelfth plane.
Three bottles of Moselle... two Rhine...
half a bottle of Martel...
three bubbly...
two seltzer...
pineapples...
Two officers. One is wounded. I took him to the infirmary.
Captain von Rauffenstein, CO, 21 st Squadron.
Captain de Boeldieu, staff officer.
Lt. Maréchal, pilot.
My apologies.
My officers.
I am honored to have French guests.
Now, gentlemen, let us eat.
Orderly, coats!
Freisler, your punch...
May I serve you?
I knew a Boeldieu in Berlin...
a Count de Boeldieu.
My cousin, Edmond de Boeldieu.
He was military attaché.
He's a fighter pilot now.
Aren't you eating?
I can't cut the meat.
- May I? - Please do.
You speak good French.
I was a mechanic in Lyons.
No kidding! Me too, I'm a mecha...
To Captain de Crussol. French Flying Corps.
Shot down in flames...
From the officers of the German 21 st Squadron.
I'm sorry about this coincidence.
May the earth lie lightly on our valiant enemy.
I have orders to take custody of the captured officers.
PRISONER-OF-WAR CAMP N17 OFFICERS' CAMP
Read these gentlemen the camp regulations.
"Officers will be treated with the consideration due their rank.
"However, you are reminded that you are subject to German law.
"You therefore must obey the rules of German discipline.
"Any German soldier here has the right to give you orders
"which must be obeyed without protest.
"You must salute officers according to German army regulations.
"If you attempt to escape, sentries have orders to fire on officers
"found outside camp limits.
"Incorrect dress is not permitted."
"Large crowds are forbidden. You may not insult the German people,
"or write or speak to civilians from outside the camp."
"It is forbidden to speak to the sentries."
Gentlemen, we will now proceed with some minor formalities.
Russian nouns are declined just like in Latin.
- Newcomers. - Let's warn them.
Angel of purity. Angel of light!
Hide your valuables...
- What are they singing? - To hide our valuables.
Don't touch! Those belong to me.
I've got nothing, old man.
Had I known, I'd have brought some cash.
This conduct is unbecoming.
Sorry, it's our duty to search you. This is war.
I perfectly agree, but conduct it courteously.
If not, I'll see your commanding officer.
How are you-kulele? Lucky you-calyptus!
Here, Miller, have some chocolate.
You've no right to open my ham!
It's in the regulations. I read them carefully.
It's rotten! You can have it!
He's hard to please.
I'm delighted when my folks send a parcel.
Here we are, in the heart of Germany,
cut off from our families by the front,
and here's a can of peas, direct from Paris.
Is it all right?
I'm amazed at how honest our jailers are with our parcels.
It's true! Take our feldwebel, Arthur...
He eats cabbage every day. It sticks in his craw. He told me so.
He'd much rather lay into your peas.
Don't kid yourselves.
If they did that, our parcels would stop coming.
They're short of food for themselves.
Hurry, our guests will be hungry.
This tastes like an old sock!
What do they feed the French?
Cabbage, but they have their parcels.
- And the Russians? - Cabbage roots, but no parcels.
And the English?
I was on the stage before the war...
in vaudeville.
- Ever see me? - Theater's too deep for me.
I prefer bicycling.
You follow the Tour de France?
You must've heard of Fabert, Garrigoud, Petit Breton...
Can we purchase what we like?
Yes, through the canteen.
Fine, I'll buy myself a comfortable armchair...
playing cards, a few books, English cigarettes.
You won't find those.
There you go, sir. I'll come again tomorrow.
Gentlemen, time to eat.
Sir...
So, gentlemen, what shall we begin with?
Chicken, foie gras,
or Captain Cook mackerel?
You're well provisioned.
Don't they feed us here?
In theory, they do, but what they give us is inedible.
Fortunately, we have our parcels, especially our friend Rosenthal's.
Oh, please!
A cognac to start with, sir?
I've never eaten so well in my life.
Some fish?
I'm getting used to Rosenthal's kindness.
Man is such an adaptable creature.
You can see he's a professor...
Profess her... Confess her...
Address her... undress her...
Oops, a slip!
You're quite a joker!
Is that supposed to be witty?
He's hard to please!
Let's drink to peace!
Not bad, this cognac.
Comes from Fouquet's in mouthwash bottles.
Fouquet's?
It's a bar on the Champs-Elysées.
When I went to Paris, I ate at my brother-in-law's. It's cheaper.
- Been to Paris lately? - Last week.
Lucky man! Places crowded?
Maxim's was packed.
I never go to places like that...
I prefer a nice little bar... with good wine.
- Maxim's... don't know it either. - It's no great loss.
We know you eat at your brother-in-law's...
He never lets up!
Is he there, "Mr. Monocle"?
No, he's not.
I've just been to the canteen. It's about his armchair request...
Let him tighten his belt!
I'll tell him.
He's nice, the guy with the parcels. Well off?
And how! You know the Rosenthal bank?
His parents.
Am I tickling you?
- And what's he do? - Runs a big fashion house.
Funny. With his money, I wouldn't...
What do you do in civilian life?
I'm a engineer for the cadaster.
Sure, the cadaster...
Just between us... can we trust your pal, the Captain?
He may seem strange, but he's okay.
You can trust him all right.
- It's all right, then. - Why?
You see, after dark... we're digging a tunnel.
What for?
To escape.
What do you dig with?
A coal shovel, old food cans...
I calculate we should come up in a garden
behind those buildings there. It's open country.
That's slow work.
We've been at it for two months. Just a few more weeks...
The war'll be over first.
You're deluding yourself.
Think so?
Best to be prepared.
Where's the tunnel?
You'll see tonight, after roll call.
So you're digging a hole...
Like Monte Cristo. What a laugh!
- Thanks for the wash. - You can't do it with your arm.
Mind if I ask you something?
Go ahead.
What's a "cadaster"?
- Maréchal. - Present.
- Boeldieu. - Captain de Boeldieu.
- Cartier. - Here... we go again!
Good night, Arthur!
- Whose turn is it? - Cartier's.
What's that for?
For breathing. These are to extend the line.
And the bags?
For removing earth.
This is the alarm.
If I start to suffocate, I yank on the string...
The can falls...
And the boys pull me out by the feet...
The feet...
What are you waiting for?
Watch me play the mole...
mol-asses!
Is the tunnel safe?
It's shored up with wood from the theater.
And the earth?
Stuffed under the floorboards.
But there's not an inch of space left.
Now we fill bags and empty them during exercise.
Hear that?
I'm sure I heard something.
It's nothing.
Listen...
We'll send someone out to check.
You've got an innocent face. Go take a peek outside.
I'll pretend to go to the latrine.
Say, Arthur, what happened?
The fellow tried to escape.
We caught him in the garden behind those buildings...
We opened fire.
Behind the buildings?
- Is he dead? - I think so.
And you, what are you doing out?
Going to the latrine.
- What was it? - Someone tried to escape.
He got as far as the garden behind the buildings.
A sentry shot him.
He's dead.
The alarm!
- No answer. - Pull him out.
Hurt bad?
Drink some cognac.
From Fouquet's.
Here's mud in your eye. Don't drop the bottle.
Who goes down tomorrow?
You do, sir... if you don't mind.
My pleasure. I understand crawling is fine exercise.
I remind you it is strictly forbidden
to receive non-military clothing.
Good news?
It's from my aunt in Bordeaux. People are swarming into town.
What do you think?
They'd better watch out,
the Germans are claiming a major breakthrough.
There's been no bell-ringing so it can't mean much.
Up for some gardening?
I hate the way German bulletins exaggerate.
And our papers don't?
Remember the "Russian steamroller"?
Isn't it time we got down to serious business?
Sure, but not all at once.
And that famous General "Winter,"
so lethal to the nasty Krauts
but so tonic to the Allies...
And do you remember "Turpinite"?
A flask the size of... a radish that could blow up a whole battalion.
They even tried it on a flock of sheep.
Too bad they didn't stop at that.
- What're you guys planting? - Dandelions.
I'm dreaming of dandelion salad.
The war'll be over before your dandelions grow.
This singular exercise will give us workman's hands.
The trunks are here!
- The costumes? - At the theater.
There should be a trunk with women's clothes.
Coming, sir?
My theatrical skills are questionable. Besides, I'm engaged.
- Playing patience? - Exactly. I'm a realist.
Find anything, Arthur?
Nothing.
Well, gentlemen, enjoy yourselves.
Where will we put all this?
I asked for hangers.
Be careful...
These things should be handled with care...
with your eyes closed.
Looks like a little girl's dress.
Dresses are short now.
Just below the knee.
So I hear. I'd love to see that!
Then put it on.
Not him, he never shaves.
- You have an angel face, Maisonneuve. - Anything to amuse.
We have to take inventory.
The corset, too!
Take it easy.
It's not only the dresses. They wear their hair short, too.
Short hair!
It's like sleeping with a boy!
When we're not around, women act foolish.
I'm sure my wife hasn't cut her hair.
That's for high-class floozies.
How would you know, with that mug?
- Shoes! - How small they are!
Stockings.
Stockings of sheerest silk!
Hey, fellas, I'm ready!
Let us dream a bit first.
You'll only stifle our imagination.
Look at that!
Black stockings!
Looks like a real girl!
Funny, huh?
Doesn't it look funny?
Yeah, sure looks funny.
Poor boys.
Enjoy yourselves.
Out there, children play soldier...
In here, soldiers play like children.
I wish I knew what's going on back home.
- No news? - Nothing.
I don't care what my missus is up to.
I want out 'cause I'm bored stiff... bored!
So you want to escape for the fun of it.
Right!
For me, it's the spirit of contradiction.
They won't let me fight, so I'm dying to.
I hate being here when others are biting the dust.
For me it's simple.
A golf course is for golf. A tennis court for tennis.
A prison camp is for escaping.
And you, Rosenthal, the sportsman...
Him? He was born in Jerusalem.
No, in Vienna. To a Danish mother and a Polish father, naturalized French.
Old Celtic aristocracy!
Yet for all your French roots, none of you owns an acre of your country.
In 35 years, the Rosenthals have acquired
three chateaux with hunting preserves,
farms, orchards, warrens, stud farms,
and 3 galleries of bona fide ancestors.
If that's not worth escaping to fight for!
I'd never considered patriotism from such an unusual angle.
With all those game preserves,
your lackeys must really stuff themselves.
I got into the war in a funny way.
I became a soldier because I'm a vegetarian.
That's right. My brother and I had stomach ailments.
The doctor warned us against eating meat.
I turned vegetarian and got well.
My brother went on eating meat,
got sick and was invalided out.
Your citations show vegetarianism didn't interfere with duty.
Or stop my wife from cheating on me.
You have to admit it's stirring.
I loathe fifes.
Still, it gets to you.
It's not the music that gets to you...
It's the marching feet.
Thanks to your dumb talk I ruined my pants...
FORT DOUAUMONT TAKEN!
What about our show? Do we still put it on?
You bet we do! All the more reason.
In fact we should invite the German officers.
Although I won't join in your artistic endeavors, Maréchal,
let me congratulate you... That's the spirit!
Have you met Marguerite She's neither tall nor petite
With eyes that glow. Skin like snow And lips in a cupid's bow
Well. When this divine creation Heard my ardent declaration
She gave me a rose. Tweaked my nose Saying. "I'll give you joy"
I said. "Thanks all the same But that's not why I came"
If you want to give me joy
Marguerite. Marguerite
If you want to give me joy
Make me your lover boy
'Neath her window I waited
And then I serenaded:
"My soul's a pyre since your eyes set my heart on fire!"
So this sweet and caring dame To put out my raging flame
Did a bucket spill from her sill Asking. "Is it burning still?"
I said. "Thanks all the same But that's not why I came"
If you want to give me joy
Marguerite. Let me be your lover boy
All together now!
And now... direct from Paris!
Get it, Arthur?
Stop the show! Stop the show!
Stop, fellas!
We've retaken Douaumont! It's in the German papers.
A little hole, to escape.
GERMAN TROOPS RECAPTURE DOUAUMONT
Isn't that awful?
Can't be much left of it!
Get off my back! I can't take it any more! I'm fed up!
I want to see some light!
It stinks of shit in here! Hear me? It stinks of shit!
And I want to hear a voice.
I want to hear a French voice.
What was he yelling about?
The war's too long.
If my calculations are right,
we should be under the garden wall in four days.
That's a lot of dirt!
Now that we may get away
and reach home again, I'm afraid of what's waiting for me.
There's more than one woman on earth!
Not for me.
That's why she cheats on you.
One thing upsets me: Leaving Maréchal behind.
It weighs on me as well.
In fact... it disturbs me.
But that's war. No room for sentiment.
Glad to see you, old man.
We are, too. Wait until you hear why.
You old dog!
Got anything to eat? I'm hungry.
Have a seat. Rosenthal's getting some grub ready.
What time is it?
11 o'clock.
Time's dragging today.
Sure, but tonight it's auf wiedersehen!
So, we meet in Amsterdam?
I'm keen to see Holland, for the tulips.
What about the cheese? Don't you like Dutch cheese?
Sure, but they say the tulip fields stretch for miles.
You have the instincts of a shopgirl.
Assembly at three o'clock.
All officers are to change camps.
Get your things ready.
Gentlemen, I wish you a pleasant journey.
I hope you will see your wives again soon.
We ought to alert them.
About the tunnel.
Sir, there's a tunnel in Barrack 7.
Open the window. It stinks in here!
www.moviesubtitles.org