All language subtitles for Five.Graves.To.Cairo.1943.REMASTERED.1080p.BluRay.x265-RARBG_English

Stebbins!

Stebbins!

Abbott!

Fitch, stop the tank!

They've got the exhaust.

Fitch!

Lieutenant!

Sentry, is this
Divisional Headquarters?

I said, is this
Divisional Headquarters?

I wish to speak
to the commanding officer.

Quickly, please.

Cold in here.

Could I borrow a coat?

Or perhaps you have
a bed with blankets.

About six blankets.

A feather bed on top
and a hot toddy inside.

That's right, that's right.

Corporal John Bramble reporting, sir.

Royal Tank Regiment
stationed in Tobruk.

You been in Tobruk, sir?

Hot as a blister
on a devil's heel.

We joined operations
last night near Bir Hakeim.

Looked like a frolic, sir.

We thought we had those
German tanks on the run.

Then the 88s...

Their formation split wide open,

and there were the 88s
right against our belly, sir.

Very clever,
this blasted Herr Rommel.

Thirty shells a minute.

Oh yes, sir,
we pulled out all right, sir.

Thank you, sir.

Ever see a five-passenger hearse, sir,
doing the Lambeth Walk,

the exhaust hit and going psss...

Listen, please.

The British, the British
aren't here anymore.

- They left.
- Stebbins dead.

Fitch dead.
Abbott dead.

- Yes, sir, but no English...
- O'Connor, dead.

All of them driving
themselves to the funeral.

That's service, sir.

You've had too much sun.

Mouche, Mouche, sunstroke,
bring water and salt.

Is there transportation
back to Tobruk?

Oh, but, sir, there is
no more Tobruk, sir.

No, sir.
They've taken Tobruk.

I was on the bus once
that went wild in Piccadilly.

It was raining.

Umbrellas.

Wet umbrellas.

The British have evacuated.

This is Sidi Halfaya, sir.

An Englishman's home is his umbrella.

This is Hotel Empress of Britain, sir.

Sidi Halfaya, sir.

And his pipe is his fireplace.

Five little Britishers
riding in the sun.

Out hunting Jerries,
and then there was one.

One.

That's close to zero.

Hello, miss.

Women at headquarters now?

Where is the Commanding Officer?

I was speaking with
the Commanding Officer.

No, sir, please.

I must rejoin my outfit.

Abbott! Stebbins! Fitch!

Mister!

Our new guests.

Sir, sir, get up quick.

Sir, you can't do that, sir.

This is no time, sir.

Here, come to yourself, sir.

Come to yourself, sir.

Wake up.

Wake up, for mercy's sake.

Wake up.

You've got to get out, sir.

The Germans are here.

Hey, sir!

I wouldn't do that, Farid.

But who, where?

Where else can I put him, Mouche?

Right in the middle of the floor.

Oh, no, no, no.

They'll see him.
They'll shoot him.

And now they'd shoot you too.

As-salamu alaykum.

Good afternoon.

Perhaps we're
a little late for tea?

Tea?
Well, you see...

Isn't this tea time?

Or maybe she's knitting.

Maybe she's taking a little nap.

Where is she?

Where is she...
Where is she who, sir?

There is nobody in the hotel, sir.

Don't tell me she ran off to Cairo
with her teeth chattering.

Who please, sir?

The Empress of Britain.

I didn't name it that, sir,
honest, I didn't.

That was the name of the hot...
Hotel, when I bought it, sir.

Water.

Yes, sir.
Please, this way, sir.

Your name is Farid?

Yes, sir.
My name Farid.

- You're Egyptian.
- Oh, yes, sir, yes.

Only because my parents
were Egyptian, sir.

Nothing wrong with Egypt.

Oh no, nothing, sir.

Except too many English
and too many flies.

Yes, sir.

We've been killing
the English like flies.

Later we'll kill the flies
like the English.

Yes, sir.

You've a native cook
by the name of Berek.

Terek, sir, Terek.
Yes, sir.

But he run away this morning
with the British to Alexandria.

- You have a wife.
- Oh, yes sir, yes, but she run away, sir.

With the British to Alexandria?

No, sir.

With a Greek to Casablanca.

There's a maid by the name
of Marie Jacqueline.

They call me Mouche.

French citizen, born in Marseilles.

Ha, informed of everything.

We'd rather like to know
where the light switch is

before we enter a dark room.

And there's a waiter here,
Alsatian, by the name of Paul Davos.

Yes, sir.
He was killed, sir.

- By whom?
- By you, sir.

In the bombing when
your planes came over last night.

You know, your beautiful planes.

What's a French maid
doing in Egypt?

- Housework.
- What's the matter with housework in Paris?

In Paris there are one million
French chambermaids.

There is only one Mouche
in Sidi Halfaya.

Only...
only one, sir.

The cook ran away this morning
to Alexandria.

Why didn't you?

What for?

You take Alexandria.

You take Cairo.

Naturally.

Turn around.

Turn around!

- Cigarette.
- Yes, sir. Just a minute.

You light it for me, please.

Your hands are very small.

It's been a long time since
I've seen such a small hand.

Thank you.

Always attack quickly.

Don't give the British time
to pack up their soap.

Excellent soap.

Smells of Bond Street.

How many rooms
in this hotel, exactly?

This is the largest hotel, sir,
between Alexandria and Benghazi.

- How many, I said.
- Sixteen, sir, sixteen.

But, of course, we lost
four in the bombardment.

- Bathrooms?
- Oh, yes, of course, sir.

- Everything the most luxurious.
- How many?

- Uh, two.
- One that works.

- Yes.
- Luxurious indeed.

Or was the word luxious?

Oh,
sir...

Mr. Lieutenant, the rooms.

Maybe you would like to see the rooms?

Maybe.

Full of bedbugs, I'm sure.

Yes, sir, full of bedbugs.

You see, we have the most wonderful...

Oh, no, no, no, sir.

We have absolutely no bedbugs,
not one, sir.

I swear we have no bedbugs.

Well, you see, this is the only hotel
between Alexandria and Benghazi.

We have no bedbugs.

I swear we have maybe one or two
in the cheaper rooms, sir.

Now look here, man, bedbugs,
broken down bathrooms and all,

we are taking over
the Empress of Britain

as our temporary headquarters.

Yes, sir.
Great honor, sir.

I expect your fullest cooperation.

Should there be any irregularities,
you'll be held responsible.

Our complaints are brief and
we make them against the nearest wall.

Yes, as though he had to warn us.

He's warning you!

I'm only a servant here.

The rooms immediately adjacent
to the good bathroom

will be occupied by
the German High Command.

- German, yes, sir.
- The one with the bathroom

which doesn't work
goes to the Italian general.

The Italian, sir.

Uh, maybe... maybe it would be better
in the restaurant, sir.

There are many tables.

There are large tables.

Tables in the restaurant to eat.

Well, don't stand around.

The rooms upstairs,
are they ready for the High Command?

- They will.
- We've been going around all day, sir,

cleaning up after your planes.

Well, go ahead.

And two towels for every room.

Yes, sir.

Yes, sir, one towel
for every two rooms, sir.

Er, two towels for every...

Come, Mouche.

Come on.

- You're still here?
- Uh, still... still here.

I gave you instructions.

The High Command will be here any minute.

We were admiring your efficiency, sir.
Weren't we, Mouche?

That's wonderful,
wonderful after the British, sir.

Yes, sir. Come, sir...
Come, Mouche.

Maid.

Yes, Lieutenant?

Before I make final arrangements about
the quarters upstairs, which is your room?

Way down the hall, next to the one
you assigned to the Italian general.

Well, if that worries you...

I'm not afraid of generals.

You're not?

It's lieutenants I'm afraid of.

Thanks be to our luck.

All the miracles, that was
the most miraculous of miracles.

Shut up.

An unconscious man spirited away
through a bead curtain.

He's gone, that's all.

He was never here.
We had nothing to do with him.

If any questions are asked...

That's even better.

There'll be no questions asked.

Poor fellow.
Such a nice fellow.

Well, maybe...

Shut that door.

How did you get in here?

The window.

How did I get to this hotel?

You had sunstroke.
I put you behind the desk.

That's all I know.
Except they shot you.

They shot an Italian soldier
for stealing drinking water.

Sir, but here...
Sir, you cannot stay here.

Understand you can't.
You have to leave, sir, please.

Of course, why not ask that
German officer to call me a taxi.

Sir, please.

Whose are these?

They belong...

They're here,
but they don't stop.

Now they will be all over the hotel, sir,
in every corner of every room.

Please, sir,
get out, please, quick.

Sorry, the percentage is against you.

If the Africa Corps doesn't get me,
the desert will.

Whose are these?

They belonged to our waiter.

Waiter?

He was lame,
and he was killed.

Yes, he was killed, sir, when Room 14
was blown into the cellar, sir.

- What was his name?
- Paul Davos.

- Davos?
- Yes.

Good.
He was never killed, understand.

Huh?
Oh, sir, no, sir.

He was Alsatian.
He was older, sir.

And I'm Alsatian,
and he was my age.

Yes, but, sir,
can't you understand.

We...

Mouche, please, help me.

Listen, man.

It's only for a few days
till the British come back.

Until the who come back?

- The British?
- That's right, the British.

Since when do the British come back?

You don't like us?

No.

And if he doesn't tell
the Germans, I will.

But I thought you were French.

Yes.

I had two brothers
in the French Army.

At Dunkirk, when the British
decided to evacuate their troops,

what did they do
with the French?

They left them on the beaches
to die or to be captured.

Who told you that?
Laval?

Wading out into the water,
begging the boats to come back for them.

But did the British come back?

Did they?

I'm only a chambermaid,
but if somebody rings for me I come.

It's only a towel they want
or an extra pillow.

Not life.

Just five seconds,
before you call the Germans.

Five seconds, that's all.

What do you want
to tell me about?

Blood, sweat, and tears?

Pencil.

This is the address
of my wife in London.

Lobby.

I want you to mail this
to her when you can.

Yes, sir.

You better get out of those clothes
or they'll shoot you for a spy.

They'll shoot me
in my uniform too.

They're thrifty with
their drinking water.

Put this inside.

This is for my older boy.

I wish I had something
for the younger one.

Service. What's happening?
Where is everybody?

Now that we've disposed of the tears,
any time, Mademoiselle.

What is this?
Passive resistance?

I told you
we expected cooperation.

Who's he?

Yes, sir.

Who's he?

- He's our waiter.
- What waiter?

Uh, waiter, sir,
we always had a waiter.

My name is Davos.
I'm Alsatian.

I thought he was killed.

Only buried alive, sir.

When I came to, it seemed as if
the whole hotel was on top of me.

Yes, sir, but look at him,
look at his eyes.

He's so sick, sir.

Yes, it took me eight hours
to dig myself out.

You see, it's not
very easy for me.

Yes, he screamed, sir.

He screamed,
but we didn't hear.

So you're Paul Davos.

Yes, sir.

Get at those rooms.

Oh, we will, sir,
yes, sir, immediately, sir.

You come with me.

Me, sir?

Yes.

For a little chat downstairs.

- Yes, sir.
- Your coat and tie.

Come on.

Against the nearest wall,
that's what's going to happen...

Happen to all of us.

You know, I would almost
believe you were a waiter.

I am a waiter.

A rather special kind.

You play your part well.

And now in English,

to save them the trouble of translation
when they intercept this message.

My Führer...

I have today crossed
the Egyptian border.

I am now marching
on towards Alexandria and Cairo.

Then, I will take the Suez Canal.

Nothing can save the 8th British Army
from a colossal catastrophe.

They say the Red Sea once opened

by special arrangement with Moses.

A similar mishap
will not occur this time.

I pledge you here
with my word as a soldier.

Signed:

Field Marshall Erwin Rommel.

You'll address the Field Marshall
as Your Excellency, do you understand?

Yes, sir.

Why in the name of the devil
didn't we get proper information

about the British withdrawal?

Huh?
Why?

I read here that
you are a competent man.

Is that competent?

With the Field Marshall's permission,

he has been buried under
that debris ever since last night.

He couldn't very well have used
the laundry communications.

Oh.

Field Marshall will find that he has
a very good record as an advance man.

We used him as a waiter in Danzig,
in Rotterdam, and in Athens.

- Cognac.
- Yes, Your Excellency.

Of course, no one in this so called hotel
has the slightest suspicion

that you've been working for us.

No, Your Excellency.

You will continue here as a waiter until
we can get you through to your new assignment.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Cairo.

Thank you, Your Excellency.

I rather like to think
of myself as a vulture

who flies ahead of the Stukas,
limping a little.

Rather well said.

Three glasses.

Yes, Your Excellency.

I suppose you would be glad
to escape from this sand trap.

I will indeed, Your Excellency.

How do you find
the British Intelligence Service?

Not very intelligent.

Not an inkling about
Professor Cronstaetter?

I beg your pardon,
Your Excellency?

Professor Cronstaetter.

The five graves.

Of course.

No, Your Excellency,
not an inkling.

Well.

We shall take that big fat cigar
from Mr. Churchill's mouth

and make him say Heil.

Five times.

Rather well said, Your Excellency.

Sieg Heil.

- To victory.
- To victory.

To victory.

The next time I will go personally,
you understand?

- Make that quite clear.
- Yes, Your Excellency.

About breakfast, I want some
strong black coffee to be served in bed.

If Your Excellency will just ring.

Avanti!

General Sebastiano,
I've come with a request.

Shh.

- What do you come with?
- A request.

What request?

A request that
the General cease singing.

Who made such a request?

The gentlemen of the German Staff.

I'll tell the gentlemen
from the German Staff.

Among them Field Marshall Rommel.

All right.

But I ask you...

Can a nation that belches
understand a nation that sings?

No, General.

I am getting very
sick of the Germans.

Pushing Italian soldiers
into the frontlines

without letting their general in
on their staff meetings.

They steal the food packages
my family send me.

They are censoring my letters.

In fact, as we say in Milano,

we are getting the end
of the stick that stinks.

Water!
Water!

I have been given a bathroom
that does not work. Why?

Because it was assigned to you,
General Sebastiano.

Is there no proper
bathroom in this hotel?

- Oh, yes, sir.
- I will have it.

It belongs to the Field Marshall.

Another kick in the face.

They let us die,
but they don't let us wash.

Well, what did we expect?

As we say in Milano,

when you lie down with dogs,
you wake up with fleas.

That's right, sir.

- You haven't heard anything?
- Of course not.

From so far away, how can I
hear what they say in Milano?

- Good.
- I can fill the General's washbasin, if he wishes.

Please. My orderly is
in the hospital with measles.

German measles!

Look at that.
Look at that.

When this war is over,
I shall lie in my own bathtub

filled with blue Italian water,

and sing and sing and sing.

But not Wagner.

In Benghazi, they have
stolen my toothbrush.

Will that be all, General?

- Good night.
- Good night, sir.

Waiter!

Yes, sir?

What is the name
of the maid here?

- Mouche, sir.
- Mouche?

When I want you,
I ring once.

Yes, sir.

Then it's two rings for the maid.

- That's right, sir.
- Good night.

Good night.

I'm sorry.

Shh.

The key.
Turn the key.

- What is it?
- I found these papers.

Here, the three passports, see?

Danish, a Swiss one, a Romanian.

Let me see how I look.

Mm, what a kindly face.

I'd never suspect myself.

Now how was I to know
he was working with the Germans?

Glove in glove.

He came here two years ago.

He said he wanted a job here,
on account of his lungs.

He had, what you call,
you know, BT.

What do you know about
a Professor Cronstaetter?

Professor Cronstaetter?
Yes, I think I know that name.

Or do I?
Maybe I don't.

What about graves?
Five graves?

Graves?
Whose graves?

All right, what did Davos
have to do with the laundry?

With the laundry?
Nothing, sir, nothing at all.

- Mouche.
- Mouche.

Mouche knew him better than I did.

- Didn't you, Mouche?
- Who?

- Davos who.
- What of it?

We were talking
about the laundry, here.

Where does Davos come in?

- I do the laundry.
- All alone?

Sometimes he helped me
put it out to dry.

A flag on the sand, perhaps?

Bed sheets, towels, washcloths

all nicely spread out
for the Messerschmitts.

What Messerschmitts?

It's my guess, mademoiselle,

that you've been washing
some sort of alphabet.

A towel could be a dash;
A washcloth a dot.

Don't you see, a sheet
could mean 10,000 men,

and a towel,
petrol tanks coming through.

You suspected nothing?

No.

The sheet, a dash, and a...

Say that slower, please.

It's perfectly simple.

The Germans were smart again.

And the British were stupid.

Why not call us naive, mademoiselle.

We use sheets just to sleep on,
towels for drying hands.

Your hands will need
a lot of towels.

Shh, Mouche, Mouche,
please, why fight?

He will not be here long.
He... he's going away.

- Aren't you, sir?
- No, I'm not.

Huh?

But, sir, but I heard with
my own ears from the kitchen.

They are letting you
through the lines.

They're sending you to Cairo, sir.

You will be safe.

Of course.

I limp into British Headquarters
in Cairo, with this club foot of mine.

Where have you been,
Corporal Bramble?

Oh, nowhere in particular.

I spent a day or two with Rommel.

Rommel?

Field Marshall Rommel, sir.

You mean to say, you were under
the same roof with Rommel?

Yes, sir.
As close as I am to you?

That's right, sir.

And...
And what, sir?

You didn't leave him with a bullet in his head
and his head in a puddle of blood?

Sir, sir.

He's talking so fast again.

He's talking foolish.

Perhaps, Corporal John J. Bramble,

formerly with
the Four Square Insurance Company.

Head office:
Threadneedle Street, London.

Clerk of the Claims Department,

always rather afraid of the manager,

one of 120,000 men
in the Army of the Nile,

that it should be this J.J. Bramble
does sound foolish.

Oh, I'm scared.

I'm all scared inside.

What do you think I am?

It's just that I happen to have drawn
the black ball, blast it.

But we haven't drawn it,
Farid and I.

Oh no, we haven't.

And we saved your life,
didn't we, Mouche?

I heard a wife crying
and two little boys,

and some words
came out of my mouth.

And I'm very grateful.

But you won't be involved,
either of you.

I'll work it out.

You will work it out, ah?

In the morning,
he'll ring for breakfast.

Number 5.

Black coffee in bed.

No one else in the room.

It must all happen very quickly.

Perhaps as he drops in
his second lump of sugar.

So that's all you want.

Yes.

Because it's good for England.

Oh, I don't imagine
it will win the war.

But, it'll knock the breath
out of them for a while.

Well, you're not going to do it.

Because it doesn't fit in
with my plans, understand?

What plans?

Why do you think I stayed on here
in this filthy place for?

I was waiting for them, understand?

No, I don't understand.

Because I want to
do business with them.

Business?
I see.

That's not very attractive, Mademoiselle.

What you think of me,
I don't care that.

Hey now.
Now listen.

All I know, I...
I will take in his breakfast.

One, six, eight, twelve.

This is my hotel.

All right, all right.

I wish I was in a black pit
with my back broken, wrecked.

I got my wish.

I wouldn't want them to see me
with my shoes off.

You'll be glad to know
that I never snore.

Except when I sleep in pajamas,
Russian style.

Now that I'm trying desperately
to strike a more genial note,

a "Yes" or "Is that so?"
or even a "Shut up"

would stimulate
the conversation considerably.

Good night.

Thank you.

Being from Marseilles,
you must be an addict of that soup,

that bouillabaisse
with all the fish in it.

One always expects to find an old galosh
somewhere near the bottom of the plate.

That's where I expected
an "Is that so?"

Is that so?

They are calling you, Mademoiselle.

Farid is looking out for it.

Farid won't do, obviously.

One and three
and six have rung again.

They say Rommel keeps
his Africa Corps in hothouses

before he sends them out
into the desert.

Must be quite some time,
since they've heard a woman's voice.

Number 8,
the major with a monocle.

Yes, you get pretty lonely
after a year or so.

I been here 18 months, myself.

It's a lot of days.

It's a lot more nights.

Oh, Mademoiselle, I think this is the time
for an additional bit of information.

I lied to you, I had to say something
quick and effective to soften your heart.

I haven't any children
and I haven't any wife.

I've never been married.

Is that so?

Can you forgive me?

Thank you.

Ah, here's a request
from the Italian General.

How about the Italian General?

Not the Italian General.

How about the Major
with the monocle?

Not the Major with the monocle.

Who are you waiting for, Mademoiselle?

Number 5.

The Field Marshall himself.

Sorry, mademoiselle,
I take Number 5.

Good night.

Good night.

British prisoners, half light,
10 minutes rest!

British prisoners, half light,
10 minutes rest!

British prisoners, half light,
10 minutes rest!

Mouche!

Mouche!

Good morning, Your Excellency.

On the table, Your Excellency?

Where is the waiter?

I'm quicker on my feet.

Here.

Sugar, Your Excellency?

I don't like women in the morning.

Go away.

Do you understand English?

- Go away, I said.
- No.

No, Your Excellency.

I stayed on while
this place was bombed.

I could have run away.

I waited for the German troops.

I waited for Your Excellency.

Why?

I wanted to talk to Your Excellency.

One piece of sugar.

Yes, Your Excellency.

Your hands are neat.

Why isn't this spoon?

Sand.

Sorry, Your Excellency.

Two steps back, please.

Now, what do you wish to say?

It's about my brother, Your Excellency.

He's in Germany.

Continue.

I had two brothers.

One was taken prisoner.

He's in a concentration camp in Wittenberg.

The other was killed.

Fighting the Germans?

They were just boys.

Their classes were called.

They had to go.

They didn't hate
the Germans or anybody.

Of course.

Nobody hates the Germans.

Proceed.

What I wanted...

I know that one word from you,
Your Excellency.

He was wounded.

He's lost one arm.

He can't even work for you.

He's useless.

Maybe I'm not.

If there's anything I can... do.

You're suggesting
some sort of bargain?

This is a familiar scene.

Reminiscent of bad melodrama.

Although usually it is not
the brother for whose life

the heroine comes to plead,
it is the lover.

The time is midnight.

Place, the tent of the conquering general.

Blushingly,
the lady makes her proposal,

and, gallantly,
the general grants her wish.

Later, the lady
very stupidly takes poison.

In one Italian opera,
the two even go so far as to sing a duet.

Schwegler!

If I had any tears left,
maybe you'd listen.

There will be no duet today.

Schwegler!

He is not an enemy of yours.

He's only 19 now.

A boy.

And he's dying.

Petitions for the release of prisoners
must be addressed

to the commander
of the prison camp.

They must be submitted in triplicate.

You can also have the Red Cross write
and then there are the Quakers.

But everything must be in triplicate.

We can use paper in Germany.

A great deal of paper.

You're to keep out
of this room from now on.

Yes.

Who do you think you are
to open your mouth to him?

Are you crazy?

You get a little crazy
if you think about something

all the time for a long, long time.

I could have told you exactly
what he would say.

Only, if you would have come to me,
you wouldn't have had to go to him.

May I come in?

Yes.

So stupid.

Never ask a very big man
for a very small favor.

Sometimes, a lieutenant
can be of more use.

Or are you still
afraid of lieutenants?

No.

I know people in Berlin
who can pull some wires.

We don't need the waiter here.

Get out of here.

- Did you take that gun?
- Yes.

- Where did you put it?
- Never mind.

You give me back that gun.

Or would you rather
have me report it?

Get out.

- Good morning, Lieutenant.
- Good morning, Davos.

Of course, I'll have to have
your brother's name and the camp he's in.

He's in Wittenberg.

His name is Louis Marie.

Be careful, I don't want
anybody to know about this.

What's the matter?

You don't go downstairs,
I'll go downstairs.

- You go back, I'll take it.
- What's happened?

There are British officers
in the lobby.

Prisoners.

Not from my outfit.
They'll never recognize me.

It's not that.
It's not that.

It's that they
have been stationed here.

Colonel Fitzhume,
he lived in the hotel.

He knew Davos.

One suspicious look,
one eye of the lift brow, oh...

I mean, one lift of the eyebrow.

Go back.
Go back, please.

Back where?
I'll keep to the kitchen.

- Davos!
- Davos?

Oh, Davos, seems I neglected
to tip you when we...

That's quite all right, Colonel Fitzhume.

May I say, it will be a pleasure
to serve you again, sir.

It is too early in the morning
to offer you gentlemen drinks?

Oh, don't let the clock stop you, Colonel.

- Drinks, Davos.
- Yes, sir.

I will announce your arrival
to the Field Marshall, if you will excuse me.

If you will excuse us,
we forgot our visiting cards.

Pardon me.

What is wrong?

Huh?

Heart trouble.

From bringing up
to my throat so much.

What will it be, Colonel?
Cognac, sherry, whiskey?

Whiskey for me,
and a little soda.

Very well. I beg your pardon.
Whiskey and soda?

- Yes.
- The same for me.

- For you, sir?
- I am on duty.

Oh, yes, sir.

Very little soda.
I'll do it myself.

The whiskey is over here, sir.

- Smells good.
- I hope so, sir.

- Intelligence?
- Royal tanks.

Just ambled in on this,
so to speak.

Davos is dead,
and he was a German agent.

- Go on.
- I have a gun.

I also have a plan.

- What plan?
- Just waiting to get Rommel alone.

No, no.
None of that.

Why not? Isn't it sporting to shoot
a sitting Field Marshal?

Dead Field Marshals
tell no secrets.

What secrets, sir?

You have their confidence. You have your freedom.
There's a bigger job.

Yes, sir.

Standby. No ill considered heroics,
understand. That's orders.

Yes, sir.

- I tell you, it was in my holster last night.
- You lost it.

Listen, maybe I have lost a few battles;
I've never lost a gun.

Gentlemen, the Field Marshal requests
the honor of your company

at luncheon before you leave.

- Thank you.
- Very kind of the Field Marshal.

Gentlemen,
I am Generale Sebastiano.

Waiter, just a moment.

- Cinzano?
- No, sir.

Let's see what you have here.

Cognac, sherry.
What is this?

Bramble, sir.

Bramble?

If I didn't know it was Bramble,
I would swear it was whiskey.

Rice pudding in Egypt.

One never knows whether
it's raisins or flies.

Take this away.

Coffee ready?

Cream, sugar.
Where's the sugar?

Farid is getting it
down in the cellar.

I'm disappointed in you, Mouche.

Having set out for a Field Marshal,
I didn't expect you to settle for a lieutenant.

What is it to you?

Well, now that you're down to lieutenants,
how about a corporal?

Let me remind you, this foot
of mine is only camouflage.

Or perhaps you should see me
in my black bowler.

I bought a black bowler
two weeks before the war.

A singularly imprudent investment.

Or perhaps if you
imagine me as a German.

No, I'd rather you didn't
imagine me as a German.

Eight coffees.

Ah, obviously
I'm in the wrong army.

You are.

If the circumstances in which we find
ourselves weren't so peculiar,

I might turn you over my knee
and spank you with abandon.

- Thank you for your interest.
- Not at all.

But if you think you'll carve yourself
some sort of niche with these Germans,

let me point out that we, too,
tried to do business with them.

We threw our arms around them, kissed them,
went on a honeymoon with them.

In Munich, it was.

I'm getting what I want, so shut up.

That's a very agreeable mouth
you're casting before these swine.

- What's the matter?
- I've seen him.

- Who?
- In the cellar.

His hand stretched like this,
all yellow,

with fingernails white.

- But I thought he was way down under everything.
- Yes, me too.

- Well, who?
- Davos.

When I climbed over for the sugar,

the wreckage started giving way,
you know, like apples.

And there was his hand,
all yellow with finger...

Careful.

What did you do?

I piled up the rubble over him,
more and more.

Herr Davos could have been more
cooperative and died further away.

You better get the coffee in there.

Yes.
Better give him a large cup, too.

Later, we can find more suitable arrangements
for the gentleman in the cellar.

Yes, sir.

I'm sorry to say that
you are very much mistaken.

No, no, no, no, Captain McOwen,
what I think is wrong is

that we send ambassadors to each other's
countries, ambassadors and diplomats.

What we should send is cooks.

Your word was "cooks"?

Yes. Why send ultimata?
Why not send macaroni?

Con aglio e olio d'oliva.

Take risotto, for instance.
What an emissary of goodwill!

Mr. Field Marshal, do you remember the last time
you were in Rome, did you taste the spagh...?

So sorry.

Gentlemen, I understand that not long ago
when the question came up

in the British Parliament
as to who should be entrusted

with the supreme command
of the allied forces in Africa,

some members suggested my name.

That's quite possible, Field Marshal.
British sense of humor is unpredictable, you know.

Humor, my dear Colonel Fitzhume,
is founded on truth.

But who are we to argue
with the British Parliament?

You're fast becoming
a legendary figure.

Yes, they say everything
possible about me,

that I'm a magician,
a puller of rabbits out of hats.

The man who can
saw Africa in half.

And the Field Marshal can, too.

They also say that you entertain
captured British officers

by giving them
lessons in strategy.

Better a lesson too late
than no lesson at all.

I agree. I've often thought I'd like
to look up the magician's sleeve.

- Two more salt cellars.
- Yes, sir.

Gentlemen, I have before me North Africa,
from Tripoli to Cairo.

El Agheila, Benghazi, Sidi Barrani,
Sidi Halfaya, Matruh, El Alamein.

Alexandria.
Cairo.

Now, gentlemen, the subject
being vast and my time brief,

why don't you ask me
what puzzles you most?

Suppose I give you twenty questions.

That's uncommonly generous of you,
Field Marshal.

It certainly is.
Are you there, waiter?

Yes, sir.

Give me a brandy, will you.

All right, who will start?

May I? How many men
have you got in North Africa?

Not as many as you.

If you count in the Italians.

Nobody counts in
or on the Italians.

Field Marshal, twice we chased you
towards Tripoli.

Past Tobruk, Derna, Benghazi.

Twice, you turned us back at El Agheila.
How?

You didn't chase me.

I led you on until your supply line
stretched out like a rubber band.

Then, I cut it.

You couldn't capture Tobruk in '41,
not after 7 months' siege.

Last week, you took it in a day.
How?

The rubber band had snapped back
into your eyes, gentlemen.

That's when I hit and hit again
and hit with everything I had.

In February, when we had you at Agedabia, we had
an idea they'd sent your best troops to Russia.

You gentlemen have a sixth sense.
We have only five, but we use them.

You can afford to improvise.
We must rely on preparation.

For instance, we knew the Dutch
would open their dikes.

So we started building rubber boats,
50,000 of them,

as far back as 1935.

What did you do in 1935?

Took your wives
on little pleasure trips.

Snapped their photographs
plucking edelweiss in Switzerland.

German wives found themselves being
photographed on bridges across the Vistula

and in the neighborhood of
the fortifications of Brussels.

Next question.

Field Marshal, to get back
to this rubber band.

Now that you've
pushed ahead 500 miles,

aren't your supply lines
getting a little taut?

They are.

- And yet you expect to take Cairo?
- Six days.

The Royal Airforce will cut
your communications to ribbons.

They will.

The navy will sink every Axis ship.
No supplies can reach you.

- Perhaps.
- That won't stop you?

It mustn't. I have my reservation
at Shepheard's Hotel in Cairo.

Without supplies,
how can you do it?

Yes, Field Marshal, how?

You run your tanks on sea water,
load your guns with sand?

Now you're asking
for the big rabbit.

But as my prisoners are not
in the habit of escaping...

Gentlemen, it is not
the supplies which reach us;

it is we who reach the supplies.
Is that clear?

Not quite.

We don't depend entirely on our trucks
shuttling between the front line and Tripoli.

It's a little far and a little exposed.

Supply planes are clumsy,
easy prey for your Spitfires.

To safeguard ourselves
against all eventualities,

we prepare.

Preparation, gentlemen, preparation.

Very interesting.

In 1937, two years
before this war started,

we dug supplementary supplies
into the sands of Egypt.

A number of depots
under your very noses.

Thousands and thousands of gallons
of petrol, water,

ammunition, spare
parts for our tanks.

Waiting for us.

Under our very noses, eh?
Where?

Yes, where?

Where?

I gave you twenty questions, gentlemen.

That is question twenty-one.

We'd gladly trade you Rudolf Hess
for the answer to twenty-one.

You may keep him.

Our time is short.

Hope you enjoyed your luncheon.
Schwegler, we're now the gentlemen leaving.

- Car's ready, Field Marshal.
- Thank you, Davos.

Wouldn't want to have
any bad luck with Cairo.

Davos, I'm afraid that tip
will have to wait until after the war.

Don't worry, sir.

He's a good man, Davos.

I hope I know my job, sir.

You do.

Those things go on
the top shelf, please.

What is it here?
You looking for something?

Yes, water, petrol, ammunition.

Right here?

- Between this spot and Cairo.
- You're sure?

Buried right under our noses.
How could they do it? How?

- Who?
- The Germans.

- You're sick again, sir.
- Not a bit.

- But this is pepper and salt, sir.
- I know.

And you're looking for water, petrol,
and ammunition. How could it get in here.

That's what I'd like to know.

Rommel on top of us.

The man you're supposed to be dead
underneath us, and you're making riddles.

They say, in the lobby, the German Army
is past Mersa Matruh.

That's going 40 miles a day.

Thursday Alexandria, Sunday Cairo.

And they've got London on their list and
Moscow too. They're several Sundays behind.

When I think there will be swastikas
on the mosques in Cairo.

You're talking through your fez.

Nazis on the Nile.
Who the devil...

Who the devil occurred to an Egyptian
to grab for the Rhine.

Hey, hey, that name.

- It is that name, lining the drawer.
- What name?

Why you asked me about it.
I don't know, remember?

Here it is under the knife.

For years I've been looking at it,
every time, I put the knives away.

- What name?
- Professor Cronstaetter.

- Farid, you are a great man.
- Who, me? Why?

Archaeologist, of course.

We get them all the time in Egypt
digging up all the mummies.

London Express, February 17, 1937.
That's the year.

- What year?
- Preparations year.

I'll just have a look
at Professor Cronstaetter.

That's him!

I told you, you are a great man.
It's so simple.

A highly respectable group of German
scientists arrived in Egypt to dig

for tombs between
the Libyan border and Cairo.

What a convenient way to send a military
mission with full authority to dig, dig, dig.

Only they didn't dig anything out;
They dug everything in.

- What, sir?
- Water, petrol, ammunition.

Not again.
Please, sir.

- Farid, now we know how.
- Yes, sir, we know how.

But we don't know where.

- There's still question number 21.
- Yes, sir, twenty... what?

Davos.

Yes, Lieutenant Schwegler.

- The Field Marshal wants to see you.
- Yes, sir.

Good afternoon, Fräulein.

Good afternoon, Lieutenant.

Not bad, eh, as maids go.

I wouldn't know, sir. A man with
a club foot is scarcely in the running.

When you're with the Field Marshal,
I'd rather you didn't mention

that you saw me talk to her
in the servant's room.

Of course not.

He doesn't like his officers
to get involved with civilians.

Yes, sir.

She wants me to do something
about her brother.

He's in a prison camp
somewhere in Germany.

I see.

A very sad case.
But a very pretty victim.

I'll do all I can.

Come in!

Oh yes, Davos.

I've just received information that
my advanced columns have reached objective Y.

Objective Y, Your Excellency?
That's good news, isn't it?

Rather.
Everything works out according to my plans.

I wish I could have told it
to those Britishers at lunch.

Their digestion
would have stopped completely.

If I may be permitted, Your Excellency
gave them a very brilliant lecture.

They will remember
Field Marshal Rommel.

Or should I say,
Professor Cronstaetter?

Thank you, Davos.

For a moment, I was really afraid Your Excellency
might put all the cards on the table.

Tell them about the five graves.

My tongue did itch.
Such blind ignorance.

I might have just as well
showed them my map.

With the exact location
of the five graves?

- Come here, Davos.
- Yes, Your Excellency.

Here we are.

You, of course, know the answer.
But would they have seen anything?

Not a thing, Your Excellency.

They have such complicated minds.
They expect invisible ink.

Maps that have to
be warmed over fires

or held against the light
to reveal secret pin pricks.

Too simple for them, this.

I'm trying to look at it
with an Englishman's eyes.

Not a clue.
Just an ordinary map.

There's nothing here that would
give them a hint, is there?

After I've taken Cairo,
I shall send a postcard

to No. 10 Downing Street
with the correct solution.

Davos, all arrangements
have been made for you.

Yes, Your Excellency.

You're leaving
for Cairo this evening.

You will be taken
by motorcycle to El Daba.

From there, a guide will get you
through the British lines.

- This evening?
- At 9 o'clock.

That gives me six hours.

For what?

Oh, some things here.
Unfinished business of no importance.

In Cairo, aside from your routine business,
you will keep your eyes open.

When I enter the town,
I should not like to have

bouquets thrown into my path
with explosives in them.

And please, Davos,

at Shepheard's Hotel, no pictures
of the widow of Windsor

or any of her breed.

You can expect me Sunday afternoon.

You won't have any difficulty
with objectives "P" or "T," I'm sure.

"P" or "T," Your Excellency?
It seems improbable.

Have a lukewarm bath drawn
in the Royal Suite.

In the evening, command performance
at the opera. Aida, in German,

omitting the second act,
which is too long and not too good.

- That'll be all, Davos.
- Yes, Your Excellency.

- Maid, do you speak French?
- Oui, mon general.

I do not.
But look at my fingernail: Broken.

I rang and rang
for you all last night.

No service after 11.

I didn't want any service.
I had a song.

I had wine.
You know what was missing?

- A corkscrew?
- Not at all.

All right.
So I won't sing.

But I'll tell Mussolini.

Good night, mon general.

Mouche.

Look at this.
A wire from Berlin already.

Yes, Lieutenant?

They've located your brother.
I'm sending this to hurry the case.

Thank you, Lieutenant.

Perhaps there will be an answer tonight.
I'll see you after dinner.

Yes, Lieutenant.

- The waiter leaves at 9:00.
- Schwegler!

Go now, go.

Hello, Mouche.

- What time is it?
- Half past six.

- I hear you are leaving.
- That's right.

That's right.

May I, wet as it is?

If there were a local florist, I would
offer you an arm full of white lilacs.

- With my humblest apologies.
- For what?

I had an unpleasant idea
about you, Mouche.

- Lieutenant Schwegler cleared it up.
- Thank you.

If only somebody would clear up
my ideas about Lieutenant Schwegler.

- He has been wonderful to me.
- I'm sorry.

Port Said. No no, that's too far east.
T... T...

Tanta. That could be.
It's between Alexandria and Cairo.

What are you doing?

You know, Mouche, I not only have
a club foot, I have a club brain.

Been sitting here for two hours.

"T," "P," and objective "Y,"
does that mean anything to you?

"T," "P," and "Y"?
Not a thing.

- Madame is dressing for dinner?
- For after dinner.

It was maddening, Mouche.
There was Rommel's map staring at me

with everything on it.

Eyes have I, but I see not.

"T," "P," "Y." What's the key?
Where's the answer?

- What are you doing?
- That's a pretty dress.

In Cairo, I wore it on Sundays.

Drifting down the Sharia Ibrahim, Pashu,
with a white parasol over your shoulder.

- There was a parasol that went with the dress.
- Well, where is it?

In the shop. I could never quite afford it.
The handle was real ivory.

Maybe some day, when I'm rich.

Objective "Y."
"Y."

Listen, either you stop talking
like alphabet soup or you tell me.

I've gone through this tourist guide
writing down the name of every village,

every oasis, every landmark
that begins with "P" or "T."

There's dozens of them.
But there is no "Y" in Egypt.

What have I said?

- Mouche! That's it, Mouche, that's it!
- What is it?

Did you hear what I said?
Idiot, idiot!

I said there isn't a "Y" in Egypt.
But there is.

There's a "Y," and a "P,"
and a "T." I've got it.

E-G-Y-P-T.
The five graves.

What five graves?

The five supply depots
of Professor Rommel.

Of course, no invisible ink.
Just a map of Egypt.

And printed across it, Egypt.
And the letters, don't you see?

Every letter marking a supply depot.

Invisible because it's
so visible all over the map.

Just a moment. Since when was
Rommel a professor?

I must see that map again.
I must get back into his room.

- Whose room?
- Rommel's.

No, please don't.
You've had such luck so far.

You can leave. You're safe.
Why risk your neck again?

- What for?
- Thank you, Mouche.

Before, you took pity
on the neck of a married man.

This time,
you know it's just my neck.

Where is that agreeable
mouth of yours?

I'm sorry, I forgot.
Wrong army.

You?
What are you doing here?

- I was in your room, sir.
- Didn't you hear the alarm?

- Yes, sir.
- Air raid.

- I know, sir.
- Then what are you doing here?

The maps. I thought the Field Marshal's
maps should not be left behind.

- You did, eh?
- Yes, sir.

- Very conscientious.
- Thank you, sir.

- Go on. Everybody in the cellar.
- Yes, sir.

After you, Mademoiselle.
I wish I was in Milano.

No, Milano is not good either.

- Are you all right?
- Thank you, Lieutenant.

He's been asking about us. Don't say
anything about the telegrams, do you hear?

Of course not, Lieutenant.

Farid, for once in my life, I wish the RAF
would turn tail and go to the devil.

- Yes, sir. Is the cellar shaking?
- Not yet.

Oh, then it must be me.

- Some candles for the Field Marshal.
- Oh, yes, sir. Right away, sir.

Let me lut them... I mean, lut me lit...
Let me light them, sir.

Davos?

What is it, Lieutenant?

Tell me something, Davos.

When we arrived here, I understood
you had been bombed in the cellar.

- Is that correct, Davos?
- Yes, Lieutenant.

This cellar, Davos?

Yes, Lieutenant.

And you dug yourself out, Davos?

That's right, Lieutenant.

And upstairs, what were you doing
in the Field Marshal's room?

Nothing, Lieutenant.

- You're sure, Davos?
- Quite sure.

You're sure you're not dead, Davos?

Come here, Davos.

- Who is it?
- Mouche.

Any damage to the kitchen, Farid?

I always pray they hit the kitchen
so there'll be no more dishes...

...to wash. What's the matter?

- What is it?
- Nothing.

I better take those things downstairs.
It must be... nine o'clock, so...

What's wrong with him?

Not in there.

- But I have to change.
- No, you don't.

- Sit down.
- Lieutenant Schwegler is coming.

Lieutenant Schwegler
begs to be excused.

He's dead.

Dead?

No screaming.
Please.

I borrowed your needle and thread.
I'm afraid I won't make a very good job of this.

- You killed him?
- Yes.

Unfortunately, he ran across
the late Mr. Davos.

Fortunately, no one knows about it yet.
They mustn't until tomorrow morning.

Farid has full instructions.
The body will be found down below

in the sand outside this window.

There'll be my waiter's jacket
and my shirt with some blood on it.

Enough to prove I did it.
Farid and you will work together.

Farid and I?

That's right. I need six hours
to get through the German lines.

They themselves are being so kind
as to provide my transportation.

- Why did you kill him?
- I said, no screaming.

Why?

I'll tell you why. Because a piece
of mosquito netting has got

to get through
to British Headquarters.

Just a piece of mosquito netting
with some pencil marks on it.

That's why Farid and you
must cover up till I get there.

Is that clear?

Perfectly.
You have killed two people.

Him in there and my brother.
His only chance to get out alive.

And now all you ask is that we cover up,
so that you can get back to the British.

Is that it?
Like Dunkirk again?

Well, what about Dunkirk?
Yes, some were left behind.

French, Polish, Belgian,
British, some.

They had to be,
if the rest were to carry on.

Carry on for what?
Aren't there enough dead already?

Oh yes, there were
a lot of dead, Mouche.

In Tobruk, I saw them piled up
in the hundreds.

In Sevastopol they lay ten deep.

They were blown to bits in the Repulse
and the Prince of Wales.

In Athens, they're dying
of starvation, 400 a day.

For what, Mouche?

So that somebody like you can hold out
a tin cup to a victorious Lieutenant

begging for a pfennig's worth of pity?

It's not one brother that matters,
it's a million brothers.

It's not just one prison gate
they might sneak open for you.

It's all their gates that must go.

All right. Talk. You talk such big words.
You have a million brothers.

I'm small. I've only one.
And I want him to live,

if it costs a piece
of mosquito netting.

Mouche!

They are looking for Schwegler
all over the hotel.

Maid! You.
Come here!

I said come here!

This concerns you,
or rather your brother.

You remember I advised you to approach
his case through the Red Cross or the Quakers.

You thought it wiser to approach it
through a certain lieutenant.

Did you?

I have just found out that this certain
Lieutenant has shown you some telegrams.

Telegrams that were sent to Berlin,
and telegrams that were received from Berlin.

They were never sent. They were never received.
They're forgeries.

Here.

We will wait for
that certain lieutenant.

I prefer to have him present.

This investigation very obviously will
continue without Lieutenant Schwegler,

as he was found
in the servant's room

in your portion thereof
in a very particular spot.

I'm quite sure you will be able to tell me some
interesting information regarding his death.

What happened?

Self-defense, of course,
and all that goes with it.

Improper advances.
Outraged virtue.

Dishonor.
Huh?

Herr Davos,
the motorcycle is waiting.

I put your things
on the floor there.

Speak up. I'm listening.
Why did you do it?

Look at me!

Because I thought I could make
a bargain with him.

Because he lied to me.
Because he was dirt.

Because he was one of you.

First, you made him forget
that he was a German officer.

Then you killed him
because he was one.

He was only 23.

At 20, he was decorated in Poland
for conspicuous gallantry in action.

At 21, he was commanding a tank company.
Best aide I ever had.

An officer with a brilliant future.

He might have become a Field Marshal
with somebody on her knees before him.

Two steps back, please.

Herr Field Marshal.

- What is it, Davos?
- Ahh. Your spy wants to speak.

I said what there is to say.

I know you worked with them
all these years, Davos.

Get out of here, Davos.
Get out!

What is it, Davos?

Get out!

If Your Excellency has no further orders,
I'm about to leave for Cairo.

Nothing, Davos.
Good luck.

Yes, good luck, Davos.

To prove to you that we are not
nearly the Huns you think we are,

you will be tried according
to your own French law,

the Code Napoleon.

There will be a court martial
tomorrow morning at 7:00.

Tomorrow morning before they start,
give them the proof

that Davos did it, understand?

And will you say to her...

...God bless you.

All right, men, refuel the tanker.
Half an hour.

Hello, Generale.

As we say in Milano, it's a wise man
that drops the end of a stick that stinks.

Who are you?

Soon, you can lie in your tub
and get rid of the fleas.

What fleas?

The ones you caught from lying down
with the dogs, as we say in Milano.

You are not from Milano.

No, but I can understand a nation
that sings and sings and sings.

But not Wagner.

- The face is familiar and yet...
- Let's try the foot.

Arrivederci, Generale.

Oh!

Mouche!
Mouche!

Farid!

- It's good to have you here again, sir.
- What happened?

Maybe you would like to have
number 5 this time.

With a good bathroom.

Where is she?
Come, Farid.

There was a trial that morning.

I brought in the evidence
as you told me.

They found her innocent
of shooting Schwegler.

Well?

They found her guilty
of spreading enemy rumors.

She kept on screaming in his face:
The British will be back.

The British will be back.

They beat her and beat her.

Then they led her out.

One bullet would have been enough.

Where is she?

Out there. They put her
with the other soldiers.

Hello, Mouche.

Perhaps I should bend down
so you can hear me better.

I brought you that parasol, Mouche.

From a shop.
They swore it was real ivory.

Let's hope so.

It will give you some shade
until we come to take you back

where there are trees and leaves...

and rivers, dew on the grass.

Don't worry, Mouche,
we're after them now.

When you feel the earth shake, it'll be
our tanks and our guns and our lorries.

Thousands and thousands of them.
British, French, and American.

We're after them now,
coming from all sides.

We're going to blast
the blazes out of them.