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Sergeant.

This time, try to run faster.

Fire!

Machine gun! God help us.

Fall back! Fall back!

Retreat!

Fall back!

Indy!

The retreat's in the wrong direction!

Damn you, Lieutenant! I said retreat!

Charge!

Charge!

To Indy!

Charge!

Yes, sir, I did hear the order to fall back.

Yet you chose to disobey!

The machine gun jammed. I saw an opportunity to advance.

In defiance of a superior officer.

Pardon, Lieutenant? I don't hear you. Speak up.

Yes, sir. In defiance of a superior officer.

If that machine gun had unjammed before you reached the barricades,

the entire company might have been wiped out!

Major,

you have the right to press charges if you wish,

but be advised that I have received a communiqu�

from General Tombeur.

Today's action broke the back of the German defenses in this area.

The General is ecstatic and has awarded us

a company citation.

And the young lieutenant here, a promotion.

I see.

It would be a shame to stain our achievements with controversy.

Don't you think?

Yes, I think it would.

By order of General Tombeur,

with his congratulations and his thanks.

Mine as well, Captain.

Thank you, sir.

Here is the real prize.

Worth its weight in gold.

Months ago, we were promised a shipment of these from Europe,

but they're long overdue.

They've simply gone missing.

Until now.

The supply ship was to round Cape of Good Hope

and arrive on the east coast at Chinde.

However, we've just received word

that the ship ran aground on the west coast at Cape Lopez.

Two dozen Vickers machine guns, four mortars,

and two light British howitzers.

Imagine what we could do with those.

Especially when we try to take Tabora.

Exactly. That is why you men are being sent to Cape Lopez.

To bring back those guns.

- An expedition across the Congo? - Yes. Listen.

We'll get you as far as Bonga.

From there, you will proceed on foot to Franceville

on the Ogoou� River, where you will pick up a boat

for the remainder of the trip.

Once you have the guns, you will come back the same way.

Major Boucher?

Possible but hardly ideal.

The terrain is merciless.

We can expect to lose a lot of men.

What about the French?

They haven't the transportation to spare.

As for the British, well...

We simply can't trust the British.

No, gentlemen, it's entirely up to you.

Questions?

Dismissed.

Colonel, may I have a word?

I wanted to thank you again for the promotion.

You deserve it!

I doubt Major Boucher sees it that way.

With all respect, sir, I was wondering why you chose

to pair us on this mission.

The major is a careful soldier.

Very disciplined.

Used to making hard decisions.

These are qualities you would do well to learn.

He, in turn, needs your energy

and talent.

I expect you to give him your full support.

Between the two of you,

I think we stand an excellent chance of getting those guns.

You can depend on us, sir.

Captain, I'm depending on you!

I know my faith is not misplaced.

No, sir. I won't let you down.

What idiot thought this one up?

Just think of it as a little hike.

"A hike," he says. I'd rather be back in the trenches

than go back in that jungle!

What does it mean?

"Little god"?

Askari soldiers saw you struck down by a bad German bullet, Indy.

Saw you die, then come back to life.

You cough a bullet, spit on ground with much contempt,

lead Askari to victory. Very big magic.

No, no, no, Barth�lemy, the men have it all wrong. It's...

It's not magic. I'm just lucky. The bullet struck my locket. See? It's...

This is very small target. So your juju very powerful.

Little god. He who cannot die!

Two promotions in one day. First captain, now god.

You amaze me.

Congratulations, Captain.

Thank you, sir.

On damn near getting us all killed!

What you did today was hardly cause for promotion. It was stupid.

Next time you disobey my command,

I'll skin you alive and feed you to the hyenas. Clear?

As a bell, sir.

You have the devil's luck.

I hope it holds.

We could all use some of it on this trip.

Don't make an enemy of that man, Indy.

He'll run us into the ground.

With him in charge, who needs Germans?

Anything you say, Mango-Gorgonzola,

or whatever your name is nowadays.

Sergeant, forward.

Letter to T.E. Lawrence. Begun December 3rd, 1916.

My dear Ned, I've embarked on a great adventure.

My fellows and I are to cross the interior to retrieve a consignment of weapons

much needed by our war effort.

It is a daunting trek of 2,000 miles.

But in Africa, a single machine gun can be the deciding factor in a battle.

The difference between victory and defeat.

In your writings to me, you have said that the sun in Arabia

is the harshest in the world.

I hate to dispute your claim, old friend, but I think our African sun

could teach yours a thing or two.

It is God's blast furnace.

I believe our cause in Africa is similar to the situation

you've described in Arabia.

I've heard my men speak of their desire for nationhood.

Under German rule, I doubt Africa could ever achieve self-determination.

But after the bloodshed here, with our guidance,

perhaps things will be different.

My sergeant, Barth�lemy, personifies all that is good about this country.

He is strong of character, loyal of heart, fierce of spirit.

It is for him that we fight,

that his children may someday inherit this land.

There's nothing you can do.

Keep the men moving.

It's too heavy.

We have less to fear from enemy bullets

than from the diseases and parasites with which God has afflicted this land.

Death lurks everywhere.

The air we breath, the water we drink, the food we eat.

I can't imagine the Germans are much better off.

I'm beginning to wonder if both sides

aren't fighting the wrong enemy.

Odd.

I don't see a soul.

Germans, you think?

Not this far west.

Deserters, perhaps.

Separatist scum.

What is that smell?

This is a bad place, Captain.

Very bad.

Major, there is a body over here.

Check the huts.

Sweet Jesus.

What the hell happened here?

Smallpox, from the look of it.

Smallpox? The entire village?

Major, Major, come quickly!

Seems you have found a survivor.

- Poor thing. Hey, little fellow. - Don't touch him.

He's diseased.

Major, if we cannot touch the child, how can we take him with us?

We don't, Sergeant.

We leave him right here.

But, sir, it's just a little boy.

And?

He can't care for himself. If we leave him here, he'll die.

He's dead already, Captain.

I won't have him brought along in a sentimental gesture

just so he can spread sickness among the men.

Sir, I disagree.

You are being irrational,

letting your emotion cloud your judgment.

A good officer must learn that one bad decision

can endanger his men and put his entire command at risk.

Yes, sir.

We have a mission.

Have the men form up. We move out in two minutes.

You leave boy behind, Captain Indy?

I'm not in command.

This is Ubangi child. Ubangi like me.

Barth�lemy think you would not leave this child if this was a white child.

Orders are orders. Gather the men.

Oh, my God. He's burning up.

Smallpox?

Yellow fever. It's bad.

The others are getting worse. They can't continue much longer.

We can't trek through this jungle burdened with the sick.

We'll never make it.

Provide minimum rations.

Perhaps they can make it back to Bonga from here.

First the child, now these men?

Who do we leave behind next, Major?

Whomever we have to, Captain.

Boucher's right, you know.

They have a slim chance.

But it's a better chance than they would have with us.

They won't make it.

I'm telling you, Remy, I've gone over this thing twice.

According to Boucher,

we're here.

But as near as I can tell,

we're down here somewhere.

Are you sure?

I need to look at the other maps.

They're all with Sergeant Barth�lemy.

Hold on. I'll go get them.

Sergeant Barth�lemy, we need...

Indy?

Could I have a word with you?

What is it?

Where are the maps?

It will only take a moment.

Congratulations, it's a boy.

Oh, my God, he brought the kid.

Where have you been keeping him?

Back with the bearers.

What will you do to me now, Captain?

Damn it, Sergeant! I can't believe you'd put me in this position.

You did not know I took the boy.

But I'm responsible. And when Boucher has you shot,

that will also be my responsibility.

- Keep an eye on them. - Where are you going?

We can't hide this, Remy.

Boucher better hear it from me first.

Maybe I can smooth things over.

I'm not feeling well. Is it important?

Yes, sir.

Come.

It's the child, sir. From the village.

He's here in camp.

Who disobeyed my orders?

It seems the boy followed us, sir.

The bearers at the rear of the column took him in.

Sergeant Barth�lemy discovered his presence

and reported it to me.

I see.

The bearers were unaware of the order, sir.

I failed to make it known to them.

The fault is mine. I accept full responsibility.

Commendable.

But it does not change things.

Tomorrow morning, when we move out, make certain that that child does not

- move out with us. - Sir, if I may...

The boy has come this far. He seems in good health.

I daresay he would be showing symptoms by now.

Most likely dead, in fact.

That is not the answer I'm looking for.

Can you assure me, staking all of our lives on the answer that

that child is not the carrier of disease?

I can't diagnose with absolute certainty. Not out here.

You have the answer, Captain.

The rational decision.

Leave the boy.

Tie him to a tree if you have to.

Peek-a-boo!

What happened with the Major?

His veins in his forehead starting bulging.

I thought his head would explode.

- So I lied. - Good policy. It usually works.

What of the child?

He can't come with us. I'm sorry. The Major was very specific.

Major Boucher is very bad.

Very evil.

He's trying to do what's best for all the men, including you.

Killing the boy is best for Barth�lemy?

Make me a better soldier?

That's not what I meant.

Major Boucher only cares for what's best for Major Boucher.

Only cares for what's best for his people.

He cares about your people, too.

That's why he's here.

That's why we're all here.

To get the Germans out of Africa, so your people can have a future.

Captain Indy, you're a very good man.

A kind man, but not a very smart man.

Belgians are not here for my people's future.

Belgians are here for white people's future.

When this war is over, will the Belgians go home?

Leave Africa to my people? No!

The Belgians want to own African soil,

same as the Germans. No difference.

How can you say that? You're a sergeant in the Belgian army.

Belgian white man came and took me from my village

and made of me a white man's soldier.

Took all young men to be white man's soldier.

My family's hungry.

I'm not there to feed them. I'm here! Fighting your war.

Maybe going to die.

When war is over, Africa still not belong to my people.

You cannot make a future for my people, Captain.

Belgians, French, Germans, all the same.

Here is my people's future.

Every child, if he grows strong, if he grows wise,

someday he will make a future for my people,

not be a white man's soldier in white man's Africa.

But a black man.

An African man in his Africa.

You savvy me, Captain?

I don't speak Ubangi.

He said, would you like to be his friend?

I have my orders.

I'm sorry.

Tonight I received a stunning lesson in political science

from the most unlikely of sources.

If my sergeant is right,

if this is nothing more than a white man's war

for possession of black man's soil,

then I have to ask myself just what it is I'm doing here.

Where's Barth�lemy?

I haven't seen him.

Here he is.

Oh, no.

Let's move out.

Captain Defense, did we suffer some miscommunication last night?

No, sir.

- Eyes right, facing me. - Company!

Attention.

Left, face.

Sergeant, it's a dangerous game you're playing with me.

But, sir, this boy is not sick.

I thank you for your opinion.

Give me the child.

He will come with us.

By God, I will be obeyed!

My men aren't perishing in the jungle like dogs.

It's treason, Sergeant.

Treason! Captain,

draw your sidearm and take him.

If he refuses me again, shoot him.

But, sir, I...

- He's my sergeant. - That is not your concern.

I am your concern. Now draw your weapon.

It seems I'll have you up on charges after all.

Sergeant, step forward.

One last time.

Hand this child over.

It is not a request.

Back in line.

Private Zimu also refuses to continue without the child, sir.

I said back in line.

You think this is a game? Do you think you can test me?

Do you think I can't shoot all of you? By God, I will.

I'll shoot every last man,

starting with you.

You're being irrational.

Emotions are clouding your judgment.

You're endangering the men, and putting our mission at risk.

This is mutiny, Captain.

I disagree, now drop your weapon.

It's not a request.

I'll have you before a firing squad.

All of you.

Yes, sir. Should we move out?

Christmas Eve. It has been raining solidly for a week.

There's been no letup.

Most of the bearers are either dead or have deserted.

It is clear to me that most of our men won't live to see the New Year,

including, I fear, our doctor, Captain Lafleur.

The closest thing to Christmas joy, in the midst of all this,

is our little friend's laughter, as we attempt to celebrate the season.

As we cross this country, we leave a trail of corpses in our wake,

like Hansel and Gretel leaving a trail of breadcrumbs.

I'm beginning to lose hope of ever reaching Cape Lopez.

Tell your friend there, I can't go on. You have to leave me behind.

Build a litter, we'll take him with us.

No, I forbid it.

The rules still apply.

You heard me.

Who can I speak to about hiring a boat?

You boys look like you crawled through hell on your bellies.

We didn't crawl.

Ask for Sloat.

Mr. Sloat?

Zachariah Sloat, at your service.

- Who might you be? - Captain Defense, Belgian army.

We don't get many visitors here.

My men and I need passage to Cape Lopez.

Five hundred miles downriver.

It'll cost you, sonny.

I can't help dwelling on the terrible cost of this journey so far.

I hope the French at Port Gentil can provide Major Boucher

with men necessary for the return trip.

God help us.

- What are you writing there? - A letter to a friend.

- And you? - My wife, back in Belgium.

Captain, if I don't get the chance to mail this, would you see to it?

You'll mail it.

Sergeant, get that brat away from that tiller.

I said, man the helm. Don't play with it like a toy.

Hey, you. You. Take his place.

Get down!

- Return fire. - Who the hell are they?

Separatist rebels. Deserters.

Sergeant, the tiller.

We're headed for shore. If we run aground, they'll cut us to pieces.

Little bastard saved our skins.

What did you say to him?

I said I'm his friend and I also said I do not wish to leave him,

but if I go away, he should not be afraid.

He must grow strong and wise, make his people proud.

Sergeant, under no circumstances are you given leave to die.

That's an order,

one I expect you to obey for a change.

You're gonna make it.

Captain Indy. Captain Indy.

- What is that place? - A hospital, I hear tell.

Run by some bloody German.

Did you hear, Major? Dock the boat. We'll drop off the sick.

Ignore that last order, Mr. Sloat. Remain on your present course.

I'll not hand a single man under my command

- over to the Boche. - Sir, it's a hospital.

German hospital, Lieutenant.

- What difference does it make? - They could torture us for information.

If we don't stop, more of the men are gonna die.

Better that than the Germans getting a chance at those guns.

I'm giving an order, Captain.

I will not be defied again.

To hell with the Germans.

And to hell with you.

You heard me, Mr. Sloat. Head for the dock.

Captain Indy.

- Major Boucher's right. You're being... - Irrational.

Yeah, that's it, irrational.

"Dearest Emily, if you receive this,

"it will be the last time you ever hear from me."

Port Gentil. Port Gentil. Port Gentil!

Port Gentil! Port Gentil!

Port Gentil! Port Gentil!

Major?

Boat.

The boat.

Charges. Must bring charges.

Relax, Major. We made it. Once you're well,

you can bring all the charges against me you like.

No. Wire the boat with explosives.

Can't let the guns fall into German hands.

You're in command now.

It's up to you to get those guns through.

I won't let you down, sir.

Of course you will. You're soft.

Undisciplined. Not fit to command men.

What's wrong with him?

Oh, nothing a few solid meals wouldn't cure.

Excusez-moi, we are a little busy today.

Let's go tell the sergeant.

Sergeant, wake up. You have a visitor.

Barth�lemy?

Barth�lemy?

I'm sorry.

Please, you have to leave now.

He's gone.

- He's gone. - Was he the boy's father?

He was his friend.

Now the boy has nobody.

- You speak Ubangi? - Yes, I do.

Tell him that his friend loved him,

and he must never forget what his friend said.

"Don't be afraid.

"Grow strong and wise.

"Make your people proud."

Will you tell him that, Sister?

Poor little thing. Does he have a name?

Barth�lemy.

His name's Barth�lemy.

Colonel Pernod, our situation is desperate.

We must get those guns to East Africa,

and we need extra men to do it. I must insist.

You are in no position to insist.

Need I remind you this is French territory, not Belgian.

- Sir, you don't understand. - No, you don't understand.

Half this garrison is down with malaria.

The hospital cannot accommodate them all.

I can have your weapons loaded onto your boat,

but I can't assign you any men for the journey.

I'm sorry.

Is there anything else?

I have these letters. One to Belgium. One to Arabia.

- Would you see they're posted? - Of course.

Damn the French. Don't they know we are fighting on the same side?

We'll make do without them.

What are you talking about?

You're not seriously thinking of going back up that river.

We have our orders.

Mon dieu, you're insane! We're down to a dozen men.

Most of us can barely stand. We'll never make it.

Our troops need those guns.

Colonel Mathieu put his faith in me, so did Major Boucher.

I'm not gonna let them down.

Then go!

Throw your life away on a fool's errand. I'm staying right here.

Remy, you and I are friends, but don't forget that I'm your superior.

If you refuse to go,

I might be obliged to consider that an act of desertion.

I've gone through hell and mutiny at your side,

and now you're going to pull rank on me?

No. No, I won't pull rank on you, but I'm going, with or without you.

With me.

In that case, see that the French begin loading our boat

in preparation for departure.

That's an order, Lieutenant!

Yes, Captain, sir! Right away!

What was that?

Belgian salute.

Listen to me, sonny.

If you think you're gonna rig my boat with them fireworks,

you're as crazy as a rat in a tin can.

Tend to your duties, Mr. Sloat, I'll tend to mine.

Cast off, you heathens!

Cast off!

Cast off.

Furnace needs stoking, sonny.

Hop to it, lad.

Juba, come help me. Furnace needs stoking.

Juba?

He's dead.

Jiggers. I can feel them moving around under my skin.

Big rat bastards.

Why didn't you tell me?

I didn't want my feet accused of desertion, Captain.

Oh, my God, Germans!

Don't try to talk.

Slowly, slowly.

Now take this.

If I wanted you dead, I would have left you on the boat.

Go on, take it.

You're German.

You're perceptive.

Then I'm your prisoner.

Sorry.

I can't accept your surrender. We simply haven't the facilities.

My apologies to the Belgian army.

Now if you're done asking stupid questions, go back to sleep, huh?

What are you doing?

Back away, Fritz, I'm taking this boat and leaving.

In the first place, my name isn't Fritz, it's Albert.

And in the second place, you're not going anywhere,

I won't allow it.

If you interfere, I'll be forced to shoot you.

Don't bother with me, just shoot yourself.

You might as well.

In your condition, you will never survive your trip.

It's your health that concerns me.

I have my orders.

Young man, you wouldn't be doing yourself

or your orders much good by winding up dead.

I look at you...

You can barely hold that weapon.

Now come. Come back to the ward.

You need to recuperate.

I'll recuperate right here, thanks.

On the boat?

But I'm warning you.

If any German troops show up,

I'll set off these charges and blow this boat to kingdom come.

I hope they don't show up too late. The explosion would wake up my wife.

And kindly blow yourself up away from my dock,

I need it in one piece.

I'm Mrs. Schweitzer.

You can call me H�l�ne.

Albert told me you were down here.

I brought you some tea.

Now make sure you drink this.

Thank you, ma'am.

You're quite welcome.

You know, you shouldn't worry so much about your silly guns.

They've been here five days and nobody's bothered them.

- Five days? - Yeah.

I've been here five days?

Yeah, five days you had fever.

We are so glad you're feeling better.

Good morning, brave young captain.

How are we feeling today?

You should really stop waving that thing around.

Somebody could get hurt.

Why didn't you say something when you boarded the boat?

You seemed in no mood to listen.

Besides, I had more immediate concerns.

Like not being blown into small, bloody fragments

of my former self.

Of my former self.

I do apologize for punching your face so profoundly.

I'm dazed with regret.

It's all right. Forget it.

I'm greatly relieved.

You are to take this upon awakening.

Doctor's orders.

My God, where are they all coming from?

From near and far.

From all around.

Some travel many days to see Oganga.

What's Oganga?

Oganga is not a what.

Oganga is a who.

The doctor, of course.

Come, young captain.

Come and see.

Better, Captain. Better.

Captain Dynamite.

Scourge of the Kaiser.

I see you're still in one piece. How fortunate.

My men?

Five survived, including you, sir.

What about Remy? The other European officer?

He was asking for you, too.

I'll take you to him.

He'll pull through?

A miracle considering.

The man has got the constitution of an ox.

What about his feet?

Jiggers burrowed into the soles to lay their eggs.

Don't worry, he'll walk again.

I got the egg sacks out and I stopped the infection.

He lost only two toes. Lucky, really.

Good morning, Mr. Sloat. Glad to see you're still alive.

Oh, I'm not made for croc food.

I make those lovelies choke.

Remy?

You've got a visitor.

If you'll excuse me, my patients are waiting.

Figures I'd find you in bed.

What's this slacking off?

Doctor tell you I lost two toes?

That leaves eight.

More than enough to kick your butt up around your ears.

You're looking better.

He says you'll be up and around in no time.

Just don't ask me to dance.

I wouldn't think of it.

God knows how many toes I'd lose.

I'm sorry, Remy.

I was wrong.

He's a good fellow, that Schweitzer.

We owe him our lives, I think.

Bravo.

You play incredibly.

I usually play organ.

Bach's music is transcendent. It even survives my attempts.

My Albert is too modest.

Back in Europe, he was a renowned recitalist.

A little bit.

And lecturer.

He holds degrees in philosophy, theology and medicine.

He's written books on all those subjects.

H�l�ne, you're boring this young man to tears.

Me, as well.

He hates to brag, and so I must do it for him.

"J.S. Bach."

"Bach: Musician and Poet."

"Paul and his Interpreters."

I hope you don't mind me asking,

but what's a man like you doing out here in the backside of creation?

Running a hospital.

Yes, I can see that.

But why?

Because it's needed.

But it's so hopeless.

You just left Europe and came out here?

A man of your talents?

Must apply them in the service of humanity.

God gives us talents for that very purpose.

Not to use them is the gravest sin of all.

Moses must have left that one out.

You have a quick mind. Impertinent, but quick.

But...

But what can you possibly hope to accomplish?

This whole continent is festering with disease.

What you're doing it's... It's like trying to hold back a tidal wave.

I see it more as gathering pebbles on a beach.

I couldn't gather them all, of course, but I certainly can gather

a handful each day.

And each pebble I save has value and worth.

I saved you.

Do you play?

I had lessons. I wasn't very good.

Being good isn't necessarily the point.

Doing the best with what you have is.

And now, meine Damen und Herren, we present the finest duet recital

in the whole province of Gabon.

It's the only duet recital in the province of Gabon.

Exactly.

What is he saying?

These men are from the Pahouin tribe upriver.

They have been rowing all night, sent by their chief to fetch Oganga.

They beg Oganga to come with all haste.

The chief's son is dying.

They beseech Oganga to come.

They will take you upriver.

But how?

They're in no condition.

These men are exhausted.

It just so happens that I have a boat for hire.

Reasonable rates?

Wood for the furnace. It doesn't get much cheaper.

Done.

Civilization is collapsing all around us.

Because of the war?

No.

The war is not the cause, merely a symptom.

Would it ever occur to you to enter a stranger's home,

and slaughter all who live there and seize the houses he owned?

Of course not.

Why?

It would be wrong.

Your heart tells you this?

But yet when governments decide to invade a stranger's home

and commit murder, millions of men as moral and ethical as you

flock to the task, even at the cost of their own lives.

Why?

It's not the same thing.

But it's something you've been taught to believe.

Society doesn't want thinking men who arrive at their own convictions.

It wants servants who do as they are told.

People prefer society to do their thinking for them.

It's easier.

It takes away the need to make moral choices.

It leaves nothing but the simple obligation to obey.

Just imagine this world if...

If no person could rely on a country to justify his actions.

Just imagine if...

If every man had to give a personal account

for all he did.

The hope for a human future lies not in nations or governments,

or religions, not even in the stars themselves.

It lies only in the human heart.

Did we get here in time?

I think so.

Thanks to you.

What's Oganga mean?

Medicine man.

Healer.

Actually, the closest translation would be,

"Giver and taker of life."

"Giver and taker"?

These tribes have no understanding of anesthesia,

so when I put the patient under, they think I've taken his life away.

And when he comes out of it, after surgery,

they think I've restored life to him.

What's he saying?

"My pain is gone, my pain is gone."

He says, "Thank you, Oganga. Thank you for taking away my pain."

Now you must tell him something for me.

You've learned what it truly means to suffer

and have that suffering eased.

As one who has suffered, you must consider it your sacred duty

in this life...

...to ease the suffering of others, if you can...

...and never to cause it.

Can you look into this man's face and still ask me why I came to Africa?

The Chief inquires of the war in Europe.

He asks if many men have been killed.

More than three?

Yes, more than three.

As many as 10?

Yes. As many as 10.

He says,

"Such a costly war,

"why don't your chiefs meet for a palaver?

"How can your tribes afford to pay for so many dead men?"

What does he mean, "Pay"?

Here, when two tribes go to war, it is a rule that each side

pays the other compensation for the men that are killed.

Compensation?

Chickens, goats, pigs...

They place a currency value on human life?

That's barbaric.

At least they place some value on it, which is more than I can say

for my fellow Europeans.

If you wish to compare barbarities,

my father writes often of the war.

Most recently, he tells of a French effort

to capture a German position in the Lingenkopf,

which is a mountain nearby.

French sent wave after wave of men up the slopes.

The slaughter went on for hours.

By the time the French generals called off the offensive,

they had lost 30,000 men.

So these people can't comprehend 10 men killed,

so how do I explain 30,000 French boys

lying in heaps on the slopes of the Lingenkopf?

The result of a morning's battle.

Or the seven or eight million killed in the war so far?

What did he say?

He says the Europeans must be very rich to kill 10 men

in a battle.

It was on this very river, on a trip such as this,

that my thoughts drifted into a contemplation so deep

that I sank into my own heart and mind.

And in that harmony of thought,

there leapt unbidden to my mind a phrase,

"Reverence for life."

Everything I am or I ever shall be stems from it and leads back to it.

But what does it mean?

You value your life? You want to continue to live?

Of course, I...

That's the most fundamental trait of awareness,

one you share in common with all living creatures.

The desire for further life.

The thinking man looks into his heart and he recognizes this truth.

I am life which wills to live

in the midst of life which wills to live.

Look around you, soldier.

Life is everywhere.

It creeps,

it flies, it writes symphonies, it builds cathedrals,

but most of all, it wills to live and go on living.

The thinking man gives every life

the same reverence that he gives his own.

But,

sometimes taking life is inevitable.

To eat, I have to hunt.

To survive a leopard's attack, I have to shoot it.

If you want guidelines, you've come to the wrong place.

Reverence is a state of mind, not a set of rules.

All it requires is everything be done in deep awareness.

Good is whatever promotes life.

Evil is whatever destroys it.

From there, you make your own decisions.

- What's that? - Looks like a French patrol boat.

What's this all about?

Who's in charge here?

Captain Emile Rostand, French army.

Is Albert Schweitzer on board?

I am Albert Schweitzer.

Dr. Schweitzer, you will please step off the boat

and remand yourself into my custody.

Why? What have I done?

Do as I say.

Lousy, tick-infected, hump-backed,

weasel-faced, disease-bearing...

Indy, thank God.

Help me reason with these idiots.

H�l�ne, what's going on here?

It seems we are no longer welcome in French territory.

Explain yourself, Captain.

All German nationals currently in French territory

are to be deported back to Europe

by order of Senator Clemenceau.

We have been here four years, even since before the war began.

We never caused the French any trouble.

That is not my concern.

I am to escort you to the French garrison at Port Gentil.

As a prisoner of war?

Call it what you like.

Get them to the boat.

Flatulent French dog!

You'll have to go through me first!

Lieutenant...

I'll pound each man into a puddle of grease!

Lieutenant!

Stand down.

Captain, this man is doing nothing here but treating the sick.

He is German.

Our orders are very specific.

You may take the matter up with my superiors, if you wish.

Well, your superiors aren't here at the moment, are they?

If they were, I'm sure they'd see reason.

Step aside.

Look. I have a far more important task for you and your men.

You see that boat over there?

It contains a shipment of weapons bound for Lake Tanganyika.

I want you to forget this nonsense and provide me an escort east.

Are you insane? That would take months!

It's crucial these guns get through!

They're desperately needed in the offensive on Tabora.

Tabora has already fallen.

As of three days ago.

It appears your weapons weren't as crucial as you thought.

Now, stand aside and stop protecting this German,

before I am tempted to wonder where your allegiance lies.

Why are you giving me so much trouble?

You of all people should understand.

I have orders!

I'm a soldier, like you.

You're a petty bureaucrat with a gun.

Sergeant!

Restrain these men at gunpoint.

If they give us any more trouble, shoot them for treason!

Get the doctor and his wife onto the boat immediately!

No!

Bastards!

All aboard!

- What about them, Rostand? - Who?

The people back there.

The patients, the sick, the suffering.

What's going to happen to them?

They will go back to dying.

Cast off!

Clemenceau feels that security has been too lax in our territory.

I can't say I disagree.

But Schweitzer has done nothing wrong, he treats the sick.

If not for him, we'd both be dead.

Something must be done. An appeal must be made.

But there is nothing to appeal. The decision is firm.

He's German and he has to go. That's all there is to it.

Why won't you listen?

Why won't you understand? Those people were left to die out there.

We're talking about human lives, why isn't that worth something?

Why is this, all this paper, worth so much more than that?

Damn it!

Bureaucrats will be the death of us all.

One last thing.

As concerns your shipment of weapons,

your government has decided

those guns are more urgently needed in France.

You and your Lieutenant are to escort them back to Europe

by first available steamer.

The expedition.

All those lives for nothing.

That's not for me or you to say, Captain.

Orders are orders.

Doctor!

- Keep moving. - Corporal!

That's not necessary.

I don't have to take orders from a Belgian.

Do you enjoy chewing your food?

We wanted to say goodbye.

It was a pleasure meeting you both.

H�l�ne, why don't you go on? I'll be right there.

I'll help you with the bag.

Help the lady with her bags, you swine!

Didn't your mother raise you properly?

I tried talking to them. They won't listen.

So it goes.

And you? You are well?

Until I met you, I thought I was becoming a person I could respect.

Now I'm not so sure.

I feel sick in my soul.

That's a disease even I can't treat.

I'm afraid it's up to you to heal yourself.

I don't know where to start.

You already have, soldier.

I'll always think of your boat,

that floating arsenal ripe with the promise of death.

And yet we supplanted that promise, didn't we?

We used it to save a life.

A little subversion is good for the soul.

I'll be in the bar.

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