All language subtitles for Marthe 1997

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Pierrot! You okay?

It's over.

God damn it.

I never got laid.

Shit!

Damn it!

Fucking bastard.

You little shit.

Gas! They're gassing us!

Grab your masks,damn it!
Hurry up!

Put 'em on the wounded!

The wounded!

Hurry, put on your masks!

- Your masks!
- God damn it!

Help me out.

I'll just tourniquet this.

Stop staring.

- You're making it worse, Mouloud.
- Don't you ever get homesick?

Sure. All the time.

What's home like? Show me.

You're lucky.

What about you?

My home's on the other side.
In Alsace.

Where's he taking us this fast?

If we do 10 every 20 km,
we'll reach Paris in a week.

That'd be great! I haven't been
to Paris since the World's Fair.

I was 12.
Didn't even make it to Pigalle.

Will whores screw a one-legged man?

Your balls OK? Then why not?

You might even get a discount,
if she's a haggler.

The laugh's on you.
I'm done with all that.

But you, honey, with your scratches,

you'll be back on the front
in no time.

I've still got my legs.

First chance I get, I'm using them.

You have to be fast to catch me.

I'm with you. To hell with them!

Look at him.

You're no patriot.

To hell with that.
We've been screwed.

Country my ass!

What little I've still got
is all for me.

I'm not going back. You hear?

Hey you,

you hear that?
We're not going back!

My God! Hard to believe.

Sorry for swearing sister,
this is incredible.

You're lucky to be so healthy.

Take a deep breath.

Fill up your lungs.

And exhale.

Cough a little.

Again.

That German steel,
it's neat and clean.

Say a prayer for the German
who did this.

He missed your vital organs and
cauterized you with cannon grease.

Sister... swab this with zinc,

then bandage his chest tightly
so he can't mess up this work of art.

Colonel?

What now?

Am I discharged?

Discharged?

Want a pension too?

Soon, you'll be on your feet.

Don't you see how lucky you are?

Go on.

Miss, look what I found!

It's a hermit crab..

They have no shells, Thérèse.

Like cuckoos,
they sneak into nests,

or an empty shell.
It's a whelk.

Really? That's OK, it's pretty.

You're right. Let's keep it.

Run, Thérèse!

My teacher's hat blew away.

Came to say hello.

- Who are you?
- Thérèse.

And your teacher who lost her hat,
what's her name?

Miss Marthe.

Miss Marthe...

Hello. I believe this is yours.

Thank you.
Without you, I'd have no hat.

- Thérèse would have caught it.
- Are you her papa?

We just met.

Sorry. Her father's a soldier.
I thought...

No harm done. I'm convalescent.

- Wounded?
- Don't worry, you can't see it.

- Were you gassed?
- No.

I want to go up here.

- You're already up here.
- No here.

- On my shoulders?
- Yes.

Don't overdo it please.

No, let her.
I loved that when I was a kid.

Careful, I'm still hurting inside.

Dad always carries me like this.

Until he gets back,

I'll be your horse. Promise!

- So you're a teacher?
- I try.

It's my first year.
I didn't expect to get so involved.

I feel as though all these children
are mine!

It suits you.

I was watching you.
You're beautiful.

Really.

I don't mean to be unkind
by interrupting you,

but I must return to my flock.

The science lesson
will resume in class.

I'm so glad we've met.

So am I.

Truly I am.

Goodbye, soldier.

Simon.

Goodbye, Simon.
Thanks for the hat.

Miss!

Forget something?

Oh! Thérèse, get down quickly.

Let's go.

Thank you, Simon.
Really.

Bye, Simon.

- Handsome isn't he?
- Shh! You're incorrigible.

You know me,
I gave it right back to him.

I didn't chicken out.

Hey soldiers, you coming on board
or hanging out on the dock?

Go on without us, we'll grab
the next one. We're thirsty.

We're not waiting
for a bunch of drunks.

Damn it, captain.
We agreed on six o'clock.

We paid you good money.

You come back.

- Yeah.
- Some nerve!

Let's go! We're going back!

What a prick!

Taking it easy I see.

Got to start somewhere.
Joining us?

No thanks. Not today.

You can't let us down!

Nothing better to do.
Come on!

No. I need a post office.

Don't be long.

Bastard stops his run at 6.
Took a lot of doing.

Post office my ass!
He's looking for a screw!

- Yeah, good luck!
- I know. Strange town.

A port with no skirts.

Where are the whores?

Not so fast.

No pushing.

Come on, children.

Your mother's waiting.
Come on!

- Thérèse.
- Simon, you came to get me?

- I wanted to see your school.
- There it is.

Can I get a ride?

Hop on then.

Is that your leader?

I suppose so.
What's he doing here?

Nothing new,
he's been seeing Mrs Bireau.

Mrs Bireau? Who's she?

The headmistress!

- Often?
- Every day.

She makes him soup,
and sleeps with him.

But it's alright,

Mrs Bireau lost her husband,
so he's her lover.

- So, can we go?
- Yeah.

No, wait.

Wait just a second.

- Having dinner with us?
- No thanks. You're kind.

I've got marking.

Marking can wait.
Tomorrow's Sunday.

- You're always alone.
- I don't mind.

- I like being alone.
- I don't believe you.

At your age it's not healthy.

Please come.

After dinner we'll play cards.

You know how badly I play.

Victor enjoys playing against you.

Alright then, I will.

We'll expect you at 7 then.

Have you got a crush on her?

Bastards.

Who's stolen my picture?

Come on, guys.

Don't do this.

It's the only one I've got
of my fiancée!

It's all I've got. Give it back.

Who cares, A-rab.

We don't give a damn.

Should've stored it up your ass.

Hey, Mouloud!
Is your bitch naked in the picture?

She do a belly dance for you,
Mouloud?

Bunch of bastards!

Fucking French!

You're nothing but shit.

You'll die eating shit.

You're the one who'll clean it up,
damn fool.

Don't, it's pointless.

Take this. It isn't yours
but it's all I've got to offer.

Mouloud, go check the latrines.

Maybe I wiped my ass
with your picture.

Just follow your nose!

If you can't swim,
just dive in head first.

Mouloud just isn't lucky.

I'm surprised he's still alive.

Getting involved when
you're headed for hell...

As if she'll wait for him.

They're all alike,

you can't make women come
with postcards.

Let me know if I'm boring you.

Do you remember the first time
you charged the enemy?

Sure I remember.

1915, in the Somme.

The krauts held the hill
above our lines.

Bastards had been
pounding us all day.

We damn well had to put a stop to it.

Not sure how many of us
were there, not a lot.

That night, we nailed them.

It's funny when they're all gone.

You stand around
like kids chuckling.

"Hell, did you make it?
We were lucky this time!"

We fell into each other's arms
in tears.

"Not our turn yet, right buddy?"

How many times?

Fifteen? Twenty?

For nothing, yet again.

Nobody would believe it.

Not a soul.

Sometimes I don't.

When it blew up in my face,
and I fell on my ass,

my leg destroyed,
you know what?

I laughed.

I laughed my ass off,
I was so happy.

That's it, I thought.

That shot was just for you,
it got you just right.

You drew your lucky number.

Now you can get out.

The best day of my life.

You believe that?

I believe you.

I stopped being scared
after that bayonet.

I closed my eyes and thought:
good, it's over.

Finally I can get some rest.

That's when I started writing.

One day back there,

I realized I was forgetting things,

a buddy dying the day before.

Even if he was there, rotting,

shoring up the trenches,

like a sack of dirt.

Nobody talked about him.

He was there, just staring

with his dead fish eyes..

We didn't even see him.

It was a dead thing,
we were living things,

busy staying alive
another day, another hour.

Now I write it down.

What a sob story.
What good will it do?

I don't know.

Maybe it'll make sense
some day.

I can tell you now.

None of this makes sense.

In the end, we'll realize
we were had like fools.

You know Marthe,

I feel at home here.

I can be myself.

I wasn't meant to be
a soldier or a doctor.

Don't listen. He says that
at the end of each week.

If the wounded arrived
on Monday,

he'd say it Monday.

Were there a lot today?

We don't know
where to put them all.

I haven't fared badly.

Those who make it this far
come out alright.

Those poor boys!

Don't pity them.
They fought.

What happens to them after this?

- Are they discharged?
- No.

If they're not missing a limb,
it's back to the front.

Most are peasant boys.

Those fellows are built differently:

used to work, to suffering.

It's amazing to see
how quickly they heal

once they rest and eat.

How can you say that?

It's the truth!

Wars aren't fought by gentlemen.

Africans are the most
vicious in battle.

That's horrible!

Come on, change the subject.

Marthe, you haven't touched
your cognac.

You're right dear.
War is horrible.

This one worse than the others.

It devours flesh,
preferably the kind with muscles,

and healthy... As usual,

the lucky and the strong do best.

For example, this morning,

I examined a young Jew.
- What does his religion...

Hear me out.

He looked good.

He had two small wounds,
barely visible:

one on his chest,

the other in his back,
just below the shoulder blade.

You won't believe it:
it was all one wound.

He had been pierced
all the way through with a bayonet.

He told me all about it.

How is that possible?

Anyone else would have died.
He walked around like you or I.

You may have noticed him.
Outside, today?

The most amazing thing
is what saved him.

You won't believe it.

Marthe.

Are you alright?

Damn! Poor kid!

If I find the bastard
who stole his picture...

It's those damn war lords!

Wonder why he took off his uniform?

Guess.

After all the grief he took from us,

it's no wonder
he hated the French army.

We ought to report it.

Ah, gentlemen!

And you? Madame.

Hello, sweetie!
Look at those eyes!

- Your mommy's eyes.
- Yes.

Who'll tell him?

You, Lucien. You've got a stripe.

Lucky me.

There he is.

Hello, friends.

You missed mass. Pity!

Ladies, Colonel.

Hope you don't mind,
I told them your story.

Here's the miracle man.
Judge for yourselves.

- Good morning, miss.
- Hello, Simon.

- You know each other?
- Yes.

You didn't tell me!

Now I know why you were
waiting in front of the school.

And why I upset you.
Forgive me.

Colonel we came
to report a problem.

Sorry friend,
no work on Sundays.

Come to my office tomorrow.

I open at nine.
Gentlemen, excuse us.

Have a nice Sunday.

Do you need an appointment
to hang yourself?

Sorry?

Are you planning suicide
before tomorrow?

One of your soldiers
hanged himself

in the hospital garden.

He was just a kid.

That's what we came to tell you.

Damn.

Thanks for reporting it.

Marthe, excuse us.

Rose, I'll take you home first.

Excuse us too, miss,
we have another errand.

Goodbye.

Goodbye, Simon.

I'm sorry.

We'll leave the two of you alone.

We'll wait outside.

He was a Muslim.

I don't belong in a church.

- Ridiculous.
- Why?

Kindness is not ridiculous.

It's a sign of love
and brotherhood.

You sound like a priest.
Are you devout?

I'm a believer.

I'm sorry, I...

Too many things.

It's ridiculous, but...

This morning I wanted to tell you,

before we found
the kid in the tree...

For the first time
I can remember...

I felt happy.

I was going to try to see you.

Simon.

Yes, I know.

One night is not enough...

That's not what I meant.

I feel the same.

I was happy to see you too.

It's silly.

Standing behind
a wall waiting for you.

Simon.

Your sincerity touches me.

Deeply.

- But you're taken.
- Who told you?

Promise you won't berate her.

I asked Thérèse.

I would've done anything
to know more about you.

It was a little dishonest but...

I loved you from the moment
I saw you.

Radiant, as no woman
I've ever seen.

Let's wait at the café.

What did you do to make her run off
like that with her hanky?

Shut up!
Can't you ever respect women?

What do you mean? For 2 years
I've only known whores.

Tell him to shut up.

- Got a crush on her?
- No crush.

I love her.

You just came out and said that?

She rejected you, right?

It happens...

I find the woman of my dreams
and she's engaged!

- To a soldier.
- Yeah, too bad.

It's too bad he's kidding himself!

Woman of his dreams!

After freezing my balls
off in the trenches,

first ass I see is
the woman of my dreams.

You'll eat your crutches!

Take it out on the peg leg.
Finish me off, go ahead!

- I apologize.
- You should.

We're not all handsome.

You're not the only one.

- I said sorry.
- Give it a rest.

After all we've been through
you'd think...

Tell him that.

Anybody care what's bothering me?

He doesn't give a damn
how I'm going to fare,

who'll want my leftovers.

Whether I'll have a wife
and kids one day.

A little cabin to cuddle,
and forget all this.

I'd take an ugly one if she's nice.

I'd give my good leg
for someone to love me.

Write that down.

Damn!
So many dead already!

You alright?

As if anyone could be alright!

Did you toss that
envelope on his coffin?

Yes... and here's one for you too.

I stopped for the mail.
I knew you'd like it.

Yours smells like lavender.

His was more like jasmine.
Climate, I guess.

Simon,

Sorry I ran away after your
beautiful confession in church.

It was hard for me to accept.

Harder still to respond.

I hope you haven't lost hope.

Can we talk calmly and sincerely?

I usually walk alone after dinner.

I go to the pier
and gaze at the sea.

Come, please.

I'm sure we have much to talk about.

Marthe.

- Good evening, Simon.
- Hello, Marthe.

You're too late.
It was so beautiful.

I know.
I saw the sunset as I walked.

I'm sorry I ran away from church.

No, I'm sorry.
I behaved like a lout.

Let's stop apologizing
like children.

It was my behavior on the beach.

You couldn't know.

I knew soon enough,
it didn't change anything.

I should've kept quiet.

You believed in what
had just happened.

And confessed it quickly
and passionately.

You were free to do so
and I am not.

But I was clumsy.

Clumsiness is touching in a man.

You might've thought that,
I don't know...

I was a ruffian taking a chance.

I'm not innocent and defenseless.

If I had doubted your sincerity,

would I have written?

Now I must be truthful.

He's older than you.

I grew up with him.
He was like a brother.

Like my father, he loved the sea

and adventure stories.

They were very similar.

They loved me in the same way:

they worried I was different
from other little girls.

Each wanted take me
farther out to sea,

climb higher on the rocks.

Papa died when I was 13.

Martin tried to replace him.

Till I was sent away to school.

When I finished school
I wasn't a little girl any more.

Then, teacher training,

the war,

the call to arms.

The marriage proposal
on his first leave.

There.

You know everything about us.

More than that, Marthe.

I know what you meant to him.

How he thought of you on the front.

You can't imagine.

At night in the trenches,

you lift your head to see:

the beauty beyond the shit.

Sorry to say that, it's the truth.

You live in the mud.

day and night,
clustered together like rats.

You live or you die,

the mud is always there.

sticky and slimy like blood.

It seems to swallow you up.

Sometimes,
when the sky is like this,

you want to get away.

You want your loved one's arms

to take you away.

It's impossible to describe.

Impossible.

Two months later...

My love,

beautiful love.

Every morning I forbid myself
to think of you.

In spite of the damp cold,

I go through daily tasks

without thinking.

I am pregnant, my love.

Now I know it...

Why did God do this?

To punish us?

I hate the child who's taken
your place in my belly.

I should never have let you leave.

Imprisoned you in my flesh,

locked you in my arms.

Your absence burns,

consumes me.

I'm ugly without you.

Without your kisses,
my mouth is dead.

Without your body, I am cold.

Without you there is no happiness.

It runs from my veins
like blood from a wound.

Nowadays, each morning
I look more like a widow.

Nowadays, I hate my poverty,

its colour,

its smell.

I'd like to wear
colourful, silky clothes,

wear my hair up,
and laugh like a young girl.

I'd like you to think of me
as happy, seductive.

My love...

No, Marthe, really,
I'd rather do it myself.

No, I'm shaving you.

I love it.

Look how beautiful it is.

Don't be afraid.

- I know what I'm doing.
- I'm not afraid.

Just wondering
where you get all this.

Where do you think?

Papa taught me all a man
knows to do with his hands.

Lift your chin.

I shaved him on Sundays.

He made me go to church.

Later we'd meet at the café

and play cards with the men.

We'd pair up for belote or tarot.

I was good.
We used to beat everyone.

Some education.

Absolutely.

I can keep up
with the best of them

at any game.

Even poker.
I'm sure I could beat you.

I don't play poker.

I'll teach you.

There's a good job.
You're magnificent.

Good Lord!

It's so long since
I've seen myself like this.

I forgive your swearing.
You look like a little boy.

Little boy?

I'll show you a little boy.

Kiss me so I feel
your clean-shaven face.

I'll get the tub
and heat some water.

- You want me to bathe?
- Head to toe!

And a good scrub.
You need it.

What will I look like?

A man washing.
Nothing wrong with that.

- Marthe...
- Not a word.

I want you, desperately.

But it's our first time
and you have to be clean.

I smell that bad?

Terrible!

Now I'll leave you alone.

Sorry. I need the stove
to boil all this.

What? You can't.
It'll take 2 days to dry.

It's alright!
You'll stay while it dries.

If I'm not at the hospital,
they could lock me up.

You'll be fine.

I'll speak to the colonel.

He can't refuse me.

Give me what's left.

- I respect your privacy.
- You don't.

If you need more water, call me.

Oh, sorry. I wasn't thinking.

No, I'm sorry.

There's some water left.
I'll get some towels.

No.

I'd like you to dry me.

Not like a little boy.

Like a man who wants you,
and doesn't want to hide it.

Difficult to hide.

How beautiful it is.

It feels lovely.

Take me in your arms now.

Sorry, my love.

Sorry to complain, my darling.

To write of frivolous things
when you are suffering so.

I should talk of other things
that are happening to me.

Rose and the colonel
keep trying to distract me.

They worry,
as if I were their daughter.

I used to love being alone.
I hate it now.

I have dinner with them
most evenings.

We talk about you often.

They don't know what to say.

Even Gauthier is at a loss for words
to reassure me.

He greets me every morning
the same way, thinking it best.

Poor Gauthier!

If he knew that his words
and his sad face,

are what bring me back to reality,

the counting of days without you
that I do every morning,

at the blackboard in class.

My hand trembles, my love.

Today, are you still alive?

Will this day bring your death?

Don't die, my love.

I forbid it.

Girls, please be quiet.

Please fold your arms
on your desks.

Good.

Today, like every day,

while the war goes on,
we will dedicate

our work and progress to all
the soldiers who fight and suffer

to defend our country
and our freedom.

Not true!

Émilie...

Why did you say that?

Answer me!

Thérèse's mother said it.

She said our husbands
are dying one by one

and it's the fault of
the bosses and clergy.

Where's Thérèse?
Why isn't she next to you?

She's not coming today.

Not coming? Why not?

- Is she sick?
- No.

Then tell me.

Her father is dead.
Killed on the front.

- Are you sure?
- Yes.

Yesterday the mayor came
with the policemen.

Afterward, Thérèse's mother
screamed at everyone.

Worse than giving birth.

Thank you, Émilie.

For letting me know.

Please sit down.

All rise.

What's happened to Thérèse
is terrible.

And to several others
in the class before her.

We'll say an Our Father
and a Hail Mary,

to save his soul.

We will pray all together
for this war to end,

and for men to stop dying. Forever.

"Our Father who art in Heaven,

"hallowed be Thy name,

"Thy kingdom come,
Thy will be done

"on earth as it is in heaven.

"Give us this day our daily bread.

"And forgive us our trespasses

"as we forgive those
who trespass against us.

"And lead us not into temptation,

"but deliver us from evil.
Amen."

"Hail Mary, full of grace.

"The Lord is with you..."

My love... it's horrible!

I fear for myself
but it's they who suffer.

I could scream
and yet they are quiet.

I have horrible thoughts
when one of them is stricken.

I cannot help but feel relief.

It's not you. Not yet!

You will survive.

I demand it most savagely.

From their suffering I derive
an unutterable strength.

The hope of being spared.

Do not forsake me
for having such thoughts.

Knowing you are in the pit that
swallows up so many terrifies me.

I think God no longer exists
for men, Simon.

Why would He allow

such insanity to sweep them away?

You see, I am the one devoured
by fear and anger.

I am the one seeking reassurance.

Forgive me.

Forgive me for saying I hated
the child you have given me.

I love him, Simon.

I want to keep him
as much as you.

Alive, for the love of heaven.
Alive, both of you, in my arms.

Marthe, my sweet,

my beautiful love,

I don't know whether the Germans
or the cold are our worst enemy.

This morning we found a sentinel
frozen to death standing up.

His eyes were wide open.
Staring at what? Who knows.

The look on his face was terrifying.

Every breath chaps my lips
and burns my lungs.

I can't feel my fingers.
I wanted to write to you.

To say I love you.

That I dream of your body,
when you awake.

I'd like to put my face
on your warm belly,

my hands on your breasts,
to revive them.

Here everything is dying.

Not a single house or tree
still standing.

And the men, just barely.

We were finally relieved
this morning,

after 5 days of hard combat...
for nothing, as usual.

For nothing.

I beg you my love,

don't stop loving me for
a second, don't stop wanting me,

or I know I shall die...

Here, drink this.
It's mulled wine, cold.

Thank you, Lucien.

You must have a lot to tell.

I was writing to Marthe.

Why bother? You know
the mail isn't getting through.

Probably better that way.

I don't know why...
I need to tell her everything.

I should lie.
Tell her everything's fine.

Well isn't it? We're both alive.

Put out that fire!

Look who's coming.
It's Lard Ass.

Bet he's found us a nice hotel!

- I've found us somewhere
- About time.

Krauts twiddle their thumbs
while we die!

Best I could do. It's all a mess.

Get the gear and follow me.
We're assigned a wine cellar.

Wine cellar? Why not an outhouse?
Is this a joke?

We were relieved.
We're allowed to retreat!

Sorry. Orders.

Bastards!
As if we didn't deserve a break!

They throwing us straight back in?

Look at this. We'll be lucky
if it doesn't cave in on us.

I need to sleep.

Bastards. I'm telling you...

If any officer
comes within reach of my gun,

he's mine.
Like at the county fair.

Don't waste time on that.
You'd do better to sleep.

Hardly the royal treatment.

They don't care if we drop dead.

The sooner this idiot war is over
the better.

Damn, I could use a wash.
I smell like a mop.

What, I smell like lavender?

Got a date with
the general's daughter!

Marthe, do you know?

Yes.

In an hour the sun will rise.
My second sleepless night.

All those sleepless nights
on the front...

You know, I'm glad I was
stabbed with a bayonet.

Idiot!

Close your eyes.

I have a surprise for you.

Don't cheat. Keep them closed,
no matter what.

What are you going to do?

Just obey.

Don't look. Promise?

Promise.
Hurry. I'm sleepy.

I doubt it.

How do you like my kisses?

Marthe, you're a genius.
What is that?

Don't ask.
It's a family secret.

Then I'll marry you.

- I want you to be my wife.
- Haven't I just been?

- You know what I mean.
- What do you mean, Simon?

My first love proposed at dawn
on our second day?

Exactly!

You don't have to.

But I'm asking you.
Marry me.

I love you, Simon.

I know you're the man of my dreams.

But to marry you...
I'd better make some coffee.

- No. Stay.
- I can't, Simon.

School starts in an hour.
You must go before then.

- Say yes and I'll let go.
- No.

If I was your wife,
I couldn't let you go.

Let alone be a widow at 20.

I don't intend to die.

I realize that.
After the night I just had with you,

if I were a doctor,
I'd say you're fit and well again.

Excuse me.

You're afraid of being a widow

but you still got engaged to Martin.

Simon, that was different.

I love Martin.
Always have, always will.

Don't reproach me
what you've learned.

Sorry. I'm being an idiot.

Yes. And ungrateful.

Forgive me, Marthe.

- You again?
- Morning, colonel.

At ease.

Marthe, why don't you introduce us?

- Colonel. Rose... Mrs Bireau.
- No, Rose is fine.

- I'd like you to meet Simon.
- Madame.

He asked me to marry him.

But I turned him down.
For the time being.

I don't know who to congratulate.

You'll work it out.

Don't just stand there,
we'll be late.

Give you a ride?

- The thing is...
- I know, but...

For once I can make
the 15 km trip with someone.

You'll enjoy an automobile
more than the ferry.

Turn the crank...

No, I'll do it.

I forgot about your wound.

- Hello, Simon.
- Oh! Thérèse.

- You look happy.
- It's because you're here.

I'll bet your papa is back.

Not yet. Why do you say that?
Are you jealous ?

Look at my sad face.

Liar!
You look happy this morning.

Go on. You'll be late.

You certainly have a way with women!

I'm not as lucky with cars.

So in times of war:

show me the trick to navigating.

I'll be damned.
Do you see what I see?

- I can't believe it.
- Smart fellow, Simon.

Win over the father first.

- The colonel's daughter?
- Maybe

But I bet she's all but.

Colonel.

Morning, lads.

His car broke down.
So I suggested the ferry.

Just being neighborly, right?

- When's the engagement?
- There won't be one.

Really?

Gone two days,
comes back chipper, shaved,

friendly with the colonel,
we thought the deal was done!

Go ahead, laugh.

I wish it were true.

Your teacher's something else.

You have no idea.

I just left her. I miss her already.

Stop complaining!

You could introduce us,
you know.

Are you ashamed of us?

Silly! I'd love you to meet her.

How about Saturday?
There's a dance on.

To benefit the defence
department, supposedly.

Can you imagine?

Polka, waltz and cotillons
to buy ammunition.

Can't miss that!

Stop staring at my stump.
I know I can't dance,

but there's always
a wallflower or two.

I'm in love, guys.

- You think we hadn't noticed?
- It's pretty obvious.

Henri, want some wine?

Mind if I sit with you?

Great idea, this dance.

Just what we need
to get acquainted.

Guess you've lost
your first conquest.

Here. This will help.

See that? I didn't even
get a chance to talk to her.

Damn!

When the war began,
we were heroes, they loved us.

It's not fair. If the civilians
are getting them all now...

Get used to it.
We're no longer in style.

Nowadays, we're bad luck.

God, it itches.

- You want to dance?
- No. My stump.

The missing part still aches.
Isn't that strange?

Stop complaining.
Sit up, we've got company.

- We've been looking for you.
- Just blabbing.

Marthe, meet Henri and Lucien.

Miss.

Hello...
I would've recognized the beard.

And me, the leg?

- I'm sorry.
- No, it's nothing.

He just misses happier times.

Just shut up.

Excuse him, miss.
He shouldn't have come.

I'm really sorry, Henri.
I'd feel the same if I were you.

That's enough.

I'll handle this.

Please forgive him.

It's my fault.
I wanted you to meet them.

I want them to be my witnesses,
if one day you choose to marry me.

Simon... let's go, please.

I'm in love with you.

I love being in love, Simon.
I love your love.

I want you to make love to me,
right here and now.

What if someone sees us?

There's no one around.
Only God and the sea gulls.

I don't think you'll mind them.

As for God, you don't believe in Him.
So just let me do this.

- Somebody might walk by.
- Stop being childish.

I can feel you want it
as much as I do.

Marthe.

My love...

Let me love you.
I love feeling you inside me.

I want it all the time.

Honestly, Rose,
this table is wobbly.

It's off kilter. It's no fun
playing on a wobbly table.

I don't understand.

I'll see to it tomorrow.
I can get Gauthier to fix it.

Simon. You're not paying attention.

It's your turn.

Sorry.

Excuse me, colonel.
I was distracted.

Good, Marthe. Great game.

- Yes, I must say...
- Thank you, colonel.

Did you enjoy the game?
Did I handle it well?

Like a pro. I wouldn't have
thought it possible.

Don't say that, Simon.
Marthe is unbeatable at this game.

I must confess I'm not as talented.

No, Rose, you're a good partner.

I'm afraid this evening
I wasn't up to it.

Simon, what's so funny?

Nothing, colonel.
Sorry. Excuse me...

Was I that ridiculous?

Rose!

No, Victor. It just wasn't
your night, that's all.

- Expecting someone?
- No.

No. I'll get it.

Good evening, ma'am.
Is the colonel here?

Of course. What's the matter?

Sorry to bother you.
I think it's serious.

Oh no, he doesn't deserve this.

Maybe I'm wrong this time.
Maybe it's not so bad.

Gangrene - it's spread.
There's no hope.

Are you sure?

No doubt about it.
It's out of control...

The scar looked normal.

Is he going to die?

Yes... and soon. I'm really sorry.

I can only relieve the pain.

A morphine injection every hour.

As long as I have some.

- Is he conscious?
- Yes, and asking for you.

Go ahead. It will help.

So, Henri?

We turn our backs
and you catch the flu?

There you are, bastard.
Forget all about me?

Some kind of flu.
I'm dying is what it is.

Don't be silly.

I know I'm right.
Can't you smell it?

No, you're imagining things.

That's the rooms downstairs.

Right. I'd recognize
it a mile away,

that nun's hospital smell.
- Save your breath.

All this time joking about it.
Now it's here.

Son of a bitch!

At this pace,
the ticker won't hold for long.

- I can feel it coming.
- Stop your balderdash.

You've got a fever.
You feel bad.

If it makes you feel better,
I ran into the colonel on the way.

He's going to try
a new treatment,

that can wipe out
even gangrene.

I mean, if that's what it is.

He'd better hurry,
otherwise I'm off.

There's your shot.

Relax. This won't hurt.

I'm sure.

So. You finished your statue.

If I'd known, I would've made it
the Virgin Mary.

I'm scared guys.
You'll stay with me, right?

Of course we'll stay.
Stop worrying.

We'll talk as long as you like.

Well, guess the colonel
wasn't joking around.

- I feel better already.
- You see?

Much better.

Tell him to set aside a case
of that stuff!

The important thing is
to get some rest.

What's wrong?
Feeling sad?

I'm a son of a bitch, guys.
A real bastard.

- What are you talking about?
- We would have noticed.

You don't know.

I wanted to tell you.
I chickened out.

It's stupid.

You remember,

Mouloud's picture. Remember?

You almost guessed,
at the cemetery.

I did it, Simon.

I didn't really steal it.

I just found it at the bottom
of the ferry that night.

It must've fallen out of his pocket.

I didn't think he'd kill himself
for that.

I couldn't talk about it afterwards.

Now I can.

I'm glad I can tell the two of you.

Even if you hate me for it.

Forget it, Henri.

Anyway... I don't believe it.

Mouloud didn't die here.

He started dying
when they came for him,

sent him on a boat to a mess
that had nothing to do with him.

You didn't kill him.

- Believe me.
- Maybe you're right.

Sure he's right.

I'd just as soon...

Go ahead.
Have a little snooze.

I'm not leaving.
Neither is Lucien.

High time this war ended.

I have to say I'm tired of my duty.

Tired of burying men for so long,

having to decide
who to send back to the front,

after having mended them.

- I'm one of them, I suppose.
- Yes.

You and others.

I was expecting it.

I was trying not to think about it.

Others were thinking for you.

Marthe knows?

Marthe. Rose.
Both pleading in your favor.

In their own ways.

I want you to know, Simon,

I'm willing to do what they ask,
if it's what you want.

I could find an excuse
to discharge you.

Impossible. I couldn't.

Why me and not Lucien?
Why me and not the others?

I thought as much.

I'd have done all I could.

Be careful when you tell Marthe.
Find the right words.

I'll try.

- When am I due to leave?
- Next convoy. Saturday.

What are you two plotting ?

Nothing, really.

We were just chatting...
bland things.

Like the weather today.

Wear these woolly socks
or you'll catch cold in your feet.

Rose, please...
Let's leave them alone.

Don't be long.

Sorry but you're due to leave
at 9 o'clock.

Marthe, I swear nothing
will happen to me.

How can you possibly swear that?

Because I need you

and I love you.

My love is stronger than any danger.

I'll come back, Marthe.
I'm begging you to trust me.

Please don't treat me like a child.

Maybe you will come back.

Maybe not.

I'll have to get used to that idea.

How can I?

Love me more, if you can.

You can't say that.
Loving you is holding on,

preventing you from leaving.
I did that Simon.

You're the one giving in.

I couldn't do otherwise.

If you really loved me, you'd have
let the colonel discharge you.

He was willing to. You refused.

- You've proven your love.
- Don't say that.

If you didn't like his offer,
you could've deserted,

we could've left.
There are boats leaving Brittany!

I would've gone with you,

to the ends of the earth!

Marthe, the ports are guarded.
More than anywhere.

- We wouldn't stand a chance.
- You're right.

It's good that you're leaving.

Go. They're waiting.

I'll do what Thérèse does.
I'll pray.

Here.

My Simon,
Every night I pray for papa.

Now I'll pray for you.
Thérèse.

This one's from Martin.

I wrote to him.

This is his answer.

- When did you get it?
- It doesn't matter.

Read it before you go.

I want you to read it.

Marthe, I received your letter.
I'm truly sorry. Martin.

- I want you to know...
- I don't want to know.

Go now.
For the love of Heaven, go!

I can't leave like this.

Yes, you can.

It's what you decided to do.

Alright. I'm leaving.

I'm leaving.

Marthe. I love you.
That's all I know.

I wrote this on the front.
A little each day.

I'd like you to keep it for me.
I'm afraid to lose it.

Read it if you like.

Maybe you'll forgive me.

Adrien!

- How I wanted you to come.
- I'm here.

I'll always be here, Simon.
I love you forever. Idiot.

Hey lovebirds, break it up!

Get down, the train's leaving.

I'll get down when it's moving.

Get down. I've got to get on.

I love you, Marthe.
I'll be back, I swear.

If you're not, I'll kill you.

I love you, Simon.

I love you.

- This the 23rd?
- Who wants to know?

Here's the mail. I'm in a hurry.

Give back the ones
with no recipient.

- Is this the 23rd?
- Not here. Get out.

I'm pregnant, my love.
Now I'm sure of it.

Why did God will it?
To punish us?

I hate this child who's taken
your place in my belly.

I should never have let you leave.

I should have imprisoned
you in my flesh, in my arms.

- Is this the 23rd?
- Go look in the cellars.

Is this the 23rd?

Hey! I'm talking to you!
Is this the 23rd?

What's left of it.

Hardly a division any more.

If you want to die young,
there's room.

- Your mail.
- Couldn't you say so?

Guys, mail!

Fournel! Come here.

Here.

- Dequet.
- That's me.

Mail. Thomas... Here.

Package for Quiniard.
Where is he?

Quiniard's dead.

Damn. He was waiting for that.

Nothing for me?

Maybe next time.

Not sure you're the new mailman.

Is there a guy called
Simon Weissman here?

Maybe.
What do you want with him?

It's personal.

In the drawing room, your lordship.

He's been asleep
in his boudoir for two days.

Thank you.

Are you Simon?

You smell, you bastard.

To hell with you.
Can't you let me sleep?

I'll let you sleep if you answer me.
Did you convalesce in Brittany?

Near Le Croisic?

Maybe. What do you want?

I thought I'd kill you.

I had to find you,
a chance to come this far.

Martin?

Are you Martin?

Don't get up.
It's not worth it.

I'm not so bad, see?
I brought your mail.

News from Marthe.

Be worthy of her, if you make it.

Martin! Wait! Listen!

I couldn't help loving her.

I know. It's better this way.

Can't marry your sister.

Guys, I can't wait.
I'll wet my pants.

Go ahead. Warm your feet.

Really, can't I stop for a piss?

No, you can't. It's against
French army rules.

Try asking the sergeant.

Ask him nicely
and he'll hold it for you!

- Don't care. I'm done.
- There you go, baptized!

Weird how good that felt.

Such a discovery.
We should call you Columbus.

Have a laugh!
Hadn't done that since first grade.

You'll see.

This is better.
You're a big boy now.

All sorts of nice things to do.

Even shit in your pants.

You can't shit enough
to get rid of the fear.

You've just got to wank.

Wank away the fear.

- Quiet over there!
- What do you mean? We're talking!

Expect us to pray while we march?

Shut it! I'll jail the next one
who opens his trap!

Up yours, Lariflette.
You can stick it up your ass.

Good, Loriot.
Two weeks in the hole, next leave!

Whatever.
You won't get me in the hole.

Big Bertha will do
a better job than you.

Another 15 days, Loriot.
Keep it up.

If you're still alive
tonight, Lard Ass!

Stop, Lucien.
He's capable of getting you shot.

That's where we're headed.

Simon, I'm not so sure this time.

Simon, this morning's lottery
doesn't feel right.

Don't. You always say that.

I think it's not my day.

We stick together.

- We stick together.
- Like always, Lucien.

What do we do now?

You do what I do.
Right behind me.

If I drop, you drop,
if I run, you run, OK?

Company charge!

Simon!

I'm shot!

Simon, I'm hit!

I got it all in the gut.

I knew it. I was sure.
It felt all wrong this morning.

Shit!

Don't look, Lucien.

Shit, it can't be!

I don't care.
I saw Lard Ass get it before me.

Oh, God! It hurts.

- Is that my guts?
- It's OK, Lucien.

See that? My guts!

They'll sew it up.

I've seen them do it to horses.
I swear!

Damn, Simon!
You'll bury us all!

Henri must be chuckling.

Damn.

There it is.

All white.

Colombus!

Talk about beginner's luck.
You alright?

- What do I do now?
- You're doing fine.

Keep your head down and wait.

I can't!
Got to run for the trenches!

Don't move. If you go back
you'll be shot. That's how it works.

Wait for orders.

They'll come when it's all over.
Dead or alive.

Don't worry. Want one?

No. I can't do this!

Stop! Don't go!

Stop!

Come on, Paul! Thérèse!

Hello, colonel.
They're flying, see?

Something wrong?

No. Don't say it.

Marthe...
You've got to listen.

It's not true. I forbid you.

He's been reported missing.

No, it's not true. Be quiet.

I would have felt it, Simon.
I would have known.

I would have known.

- I can't!
- My dear girl.

Something wrong?

Nothing. Simon's dead.
Let's go fish for crabs.

See that soldier?
That's my father.

No, it's not.
Why would it be your dad?

I know it. I recognize him.

There he is. That's my dad.

There's mine.
Simon's the only one missing.

Maybe he's the unknown soldier
at the Eiffel Tower.

With a heater on, all the time.

Maybe.

Hello, David.
How handsome you are, my love.

- Come here.
- Hello, Rose.

Show me?
Wonderful, sweetheart.

You can walk?

Did you expect him to fly?

- Hello, Marthe.
- Hello, everyone.

How is it you're all here
at the same time?

It was Martin.

Did you? David can walk.
When did he start?

About time!
I was ready to see a specialist.

Don't be silly. He's magnificent.

I started walking late too.
2 years old.

Marthe started at 10 months.
I was there.

Oh, girls are different.
Completely.

Marthe, let me borrow David
for 10 minutes.

I want to take him
to the store to buy candy.

His first steps deserve a reward.

Not too much or he'll be sick.

Promise. Come my darling.
Auntie Rose has a surprise.

Well, you didn't answer me, colonel.

- About what?
- This visit, on a Thursday.

- Not that I mind, I'm pleased.
- Oh, that's better.

Dear Marthe, despite
my belief in your success...

Quiet today.
I only sold one book.

I should say exchanged.

Never mind.
I desperately need your help.

- Exactly right.
- Let me give her the facts.

Why do you need my help?

Since before lunch,
Martin has not stopped praising

a modern poet.

Extolling the virtues of Rimbaud.

- He swears by Victor Hugo.
- Absolutely.

Can you give the colonel
some of Rimbaud's poetry?

- A gift from me to change his mind.
- I doubt that!

Far be it from me to interfere,
but Martin is right to insist.

Rimbaud's poetry is beautiful.

Listen to this.
It's the shortest one.

It's called The Star Wept Pink.
It was Simon's favourite.

"The star wept pink in your ears

"The infinite white space
from neck to hips

"The sea foamed red from
your vermilion breasts..."

"And the man bled black
at your sovereign flank."

Simon is alive?

He is, Marthe.

The sector he was in
was taken by the Germans.

No need to tell you what they did
to prisoners from Alsace

who'd fought for France.

My God. But since the
armistice, why didn't he write?

He did, Marthe.
To us, to Rose and I.

He wanted to be sure

his return wouldn't
complicate your life.

To see whether he had the right to.

And we had to organize his return.

Prepare the surprise.

Where is he now?

Here... He's here.

I believe he's waiting
with David, outside.

It took me a long time.

Forgive me, my love.

I should scream at you.

What do you think of David?

I don't know.

Maybe I'll love him
more than you.

If you like.

Take me in your arms now.

Or I'll die!

Adaptation: Anna Harrison Hines
for Eclair Media